“Thread a needle with one of your own hairs, then draw the edge of the rent or tear together in this manner, darning it, as it were, very finely and carefully, for it is in this that the whole art consists.

“After this take a piece of cloth as near like to the stuff you wish to mend as you can obtain. Lay this piece on the rent so as to cover it, then damp it slightly, and press it down with a hot iron until the surface looks quite even.”

It may here be observed that, firstly, the thinner the thread used, so that it be only strong enough to hold, the less probability is there that the repair will show. For this purpose, for extremely delicate mending a human hair is almost invisible; for most work silk thread will answer. It is, however, more likely to cut through the edge than a hair, because the hair is more elastic.

Secondly, it may be observed that the so-called darning is really a kind of invisible weaving, and not a sewing together or a stitching close of edges, which latter, as it always puckers up or rises, must show the line of repair. The darning has its strength of attachment afar off, not close to the edges; it makes, as it were, a kind of network or a weaving together of the cloth—that is, the cloth is woven again into one piece by an invisible thread which hides itself in the thicker fabric. The laying down of a cloth of precisely the same texture as that mended, and then ironing it, is very ingenious, because one of a different kind would produce a different impression.

The friend from whom I received the above, Miss Roma Lister, adds that the Jewesses do this kind of work very well, but ask a franc or twenty-five sous for mending the smallest rent. However, when the torn shawl is once finished you cannot see where the hole has been.

Somewhat allied to this is the patient German method of mending stockings by reknitting; also that of spreading strong flexible glue on a patch of chamois. This is laid under the rent, the edges being carefully reunited over it. I would here suggest that if the tear be first carefully darned, even with human hair or finest silk, and the gummed leather then applied to the reverse, the mending would endure for a much longer time.

There is a stitch known in Germany as Kettenstich, or chain-stitch—though it is not that which is generally known among us as the “German chain-stitch.” It is peculiarly long and strong, and will hold together the edges of even soft leather, for which reason it is generally used in Turkey and Russia to sew together the many-coloured pieces of leather such as we see in Kasan work—slippers and boots—and cushions from Constantinople. This is a valuable stitch for close, invisible mending. It is allied to the lock-stitch of the sewing-machine.

A great variety of fabrics can be carefully adjusted and drawn together over a piece of strong, glazed muslin (of the same colour) covered with waterproof glue—e.g., indiarubber or glue and rubber cement—so that the mending will not be apparent. This process is very applicable to loose skirts, or to any garments on which there is no such severe pull, as, e.g., trousers or coat-sleeves. To effect these as well as all other repairs perfectly it will be necessary to experiment a few times. Unfortunately nearly all amateurs without exception make no experiment till it is necessary to repair something, and then, because they very naturally botch it, find fault with the recipe. Yet, strangely as it may sound, there are many cases in which mending or making fabrics can be executed far more neatly with a very strong cement, such as that of mastic and sturgeon’s bladder, than with needle and thread, the former actually requiring less margin to hold than the average width of a seam, for the least possible overlap suffices to bind where the adhesive is strong. This process of mending is little known, probably because there has been hitherto very little general knowledge of the immense strength and tenacity of certain cements, which have, indeed, only been discovered of late. For all ordinary mending, in fact, glue with glycerine, or glue and indiarubber solution in benzole, will answer as well as the far more expensive Turkish or Diamond cement.

If the reader will only reflect that a large proportion of all black and glossy silks are heavily gummed, sometimes up to their own weight, it will be understood that there can be no substance with which they can be more appropriately mended than with cement—a fact well known to many who employ postage-stamps or black court-plaster to heal their rents; but as this is generally very expensive, and as any old silk and glue or gelatine, or dextrine, answer just as well, the latter had better be considered.

There is much weaving of the most exquisite fabrics done in the East, and even among savages, almost entirely by hand; that is to say, the threads are simply attached to a rod, while the woof is worked in with a needle. Most fabrics can be mended by an analogous process, which is a remaking the cloth. Much depends on the proper finishing or dressing the surface by laying on it a piece of cloth and ironing it.

MENDING MOTHER-OF-PEARL AND CORAL

Mother-of-Pearl is the shell of the pearl-oyster (Avigula margaritifera), much admired for its beautiful texture and white colour, in which there is a peculiar iridescence or rainbow play of colours. The best, and by far the principal portion in commerce, comes from the islands of the Pacific. It has risen immensely in value of late years. Almost, if not quite, equal to it is the East Indian, from the Sulu Islands, Ceylon, and Aden, or the Persian Gulf. An inferior kind comes from the Eastern Mediterranean, also another from America.

The iridescent glaze, accompanied with more or less of the mother or solid substance, is found in a very great number of shells; e.g., the Peter’s Ear (Halyotis iris) of the Pacific; also in common mussels, especially the Unio, found in most clear streams or brooks in Europe and America where there is not much lime. These often yield pearls of great value.

Mother-of-pearl can be sawed without any great difficulty into plates, which are polished with fine sand and then with tripoli. Of late a great deal of small furniture inlaid with squares and triangles of this material has found its way from Turkey and Persia to London. These pieces are simply attached with cement made of sturgeon’s bladder, mastic, salmiac, or even glue. They can generally be obtained from dealers in Oriental goods. Abraham Sassoon, of Wardour Street, will supply them in any quantity.

Louis Edgar Andés and Sigmund Lehner, both experimental technologists, have given several curious recipes for imitating mother-of-pearl. From filing or grinding, the best mother-of-pearl shell becomes like a white metal, which can be combined with white of egg or pure white gelatine to a fine marble-like substance, which, however, lacks iridescence. Broken into very small pieces, which are set in a bed of glue and glycerine, and then covered, when dry, with another coating of the same, we have what its inventor, Lehner, assures us is a very good imitation of pearl-shell.

But there is scaled away from a variety of shells a coating of nacre, or coloured glaze, which when powdered still retains the pearly lustre. This may be taken even from the common American oyster or all mussels. According to Andés, who refers, I think, to this, it can be laid on any substance and covered with a gum-glaze. He also informs us that the pearl-like inner layers of oyster-shells, or of any other kind, reduced to powder and mixed with sturgeon’s bladder and spirits, painted on grey paper in several coats, present the appearance of nacre. I have seen specimens of such painting which were indeed very pretty, but the pearly iridescence was rather faint. According to the author, the pearly brilliancy is much increased by an addition of silver-bronze powder.

I conclude from this, not having in this instance experimented personally, save in carving pearl, that coarse powders of the highly coloured greenish and other nacres of tropical shells, as well as of the European mussel and some other shells, can be combined with binding-gums of a transparent nature so as to form a very admirable imitation of mother-of-pearl.

I may here remark, in connection with this, that the common American clam (Venus mercernaria) has a white shell of intense hardness, which, when polished, is as beautiful as porcelain or ivory; also that the purple spot in the American oyster-shell, from which the Indians made a very hard and beautiful bead, might easily be drilled out for buttons.

A very beautiful imitation of mother-of-pearl is made in Japan. It is not, however, iridescent. It is said to be made with rice. I conjecture that this is rice treated with diluted acid.

I have before me now a string of 400 imitation red coral beads, price twopence, such as are commonly sold everywhere. They are manufactured of vermilion powder, rice-flour, and gum, and, when they are carefully made, are extremely hard and durable, so much so that the composition may be used to mend broken articles made of red coral. Such objects in a fractured state are very common in curiosity shops, but the art of repairing them seems to be as yet unknown, though it is extremely profitable.

Of coral, Lehner tells us that celluloid in combination with different substances—e.g., white zinc or cinnabar—can be coloured from delicate rose to fiery vermilion, and forms a very close imitation of coral. A very good and much cheaper imitation can be made by preparing perfectly white paper-paste (vide Papier-Mâché), and combining it with vermilion, zinc, &c. From such artificial coral very beautiful cups, plates, and ornaments for inlaying, beads, pendants for jewellery, book-covers, &c., can easily be made. The colour can be varied to turquoise, emerald, ebony, ivory, &c., by simply changing the colouring-powders used.

There is a very cheap and common imitation of coral made by dipping vermicelli, twigs, &c., into a solution of red sealing-wax in spirits of wine. This is, however, extremely brittle. White marble-dust, or very fine white flint sand, combined with vermilion and silicate of soda, is said to produce a very admirable imitation of coral. The basis of levigated sand, or carbonate of lime, with silicate, can be varied with the dyes to imitate any gems, and is invaluable for mending pottery or stone-work.

Coral and several other substances are also imitated by combining about nine parts of very clear glue to one of glycerine. This is qualified with one equivalent of white zinc or dye-stuffs. Thus the glue basis is combined with colcothar, ochre-sepia, umber, ochre, or chrome. This is also a valuable cement for mending a great variety of objects.

Any fine white shells ground to powder may be combined with gum and a very little glycerine and vermilion to make artificial coral; also white glue or gelatine with glycerine. This may be made in quantity for casts of all kinds of objects, such as plates in inlaid work.

RESTORING AND REPAIRING PICTURES

“The restoration of disfigured and decayed works of art is next in importance to their production.”—Field, Chromatography.

I published in 1864 a work entitled The Egyptian Sketch Book, which began with the following abridged account of how oil pictures are cleaned:—

“Three young painters had often heard what the American Page has proved, that by carefully peeling the pictures of certain great artists, coat by coat, one may learn all their secrets of colour. So, having obtained an undoubted Titian, representing the Holy Virgin, they laid it on a table and proceeded to remove the outer varnish by means of friction with the fingers; which varnish very soon rose up in a cloud of white dust, and acted very much as a shower of snuff would have done.

“Then they arrived at the ‘naked colours,’ which had by this time assumed a very crude form, owing to the fact that a certain amount of liquorish tincture, as of Turkey rhubarb, or tinct. rhabarbara, had become incorporated with the varnish, and to which the colours had been indebted for their golden warmth.

“This brought them to the glazing proper, which had been deprived of the evidence of the age or antiquity by the removal of the patinæ, or little cups, which had formed in the canvas between the web and the woof.

“The next process was to remove the glaze from the saffron robe, composed of yellow lake and burnt sienna. This brought them to a flame colour, in which the modelling had been made. They next attacked the robe of the Virgin Mary, and having taken away the crimson lake, were astonished to find a greenish drab. When they had thus in turn removed every colour in the picture, dissecting every part by diligent care, loosening every glaze by solvents too numerous to mention—including alcohol and various adaptations of alkali—they had the ineffable satisfaction of seeing the design in a condition of crude, blank chiaroscuro. Blinded by enthusiasm, having made careful notes of all they had done, they flew at the white and black with pumice-stone and potash; when, lo and behold! something very rubicund appeared, which further excavation declared was the tip of the red—nose of King George the Fourth! The Titian for which they had sacrificed so much was a false god.”

The foregoing extracts were dictated by the late Henry Merritt, a very distinguished restorer and artist, the author of Pictures and Art separated in the Works of the Old Masters, and other works of which I can truly say that the name Merritt indicates that nomen est omen. I was often by him while at his work, and had the benefit of seeing the processes employed and the progress which he made in bringing to light the “buried beauties” of pictures by great artists. What I have since learned in addition will be found in the following pages.

Though it is simple and easy to describe the manner in which old pictures in general are restored, it must be borne in mind that, as regards a detailed and comprehensive description, the task would be the most difficult in the whole range of repairing; for when a picture has suffered so much that repainting is absolutely necessary, then nothing but the skill of the original artist himself would ever do full justice to it. In many cases we have pictures, like decayed works in wood, so far gone that only a mere hint or sketch of the original remains, so that they are generally deemed not worth keeping. In such cases the restorer or repairer may very well do his best. There is, and always will be, an immense field for every skilled repairer in this remaking of antiques, to great profit, because there is an unlimited supply of material, almost everywhere, wherewith to work.

To be a perfectly accomplished restorer of pictures one should be an expert in chemistry, and not only one very familiar with all the styles and schools of art, and gifted with great knowledge of the technique of great artists, but also no mean painter oneself. There is a very general, but very vulgar and stupid, popular belief that the restoration and cleaning of old pictures is a merely mechanical art, about on a par with house-painting as regards skill or intelligence; but this I earnestly deny, having found, since I have practised it myself, that it affords a wide field to ingenuity, and that the greatest artists living—I care not who they may be—can find in restoration tasks which would fully tax all their skill, knowledge, or genius.

Before proceeding to clean or repair a picture it is often advisable for the artist to make an outline sketch of it with great care, in order to correct and guide him in details. To do this, take very transparent tracing-paper—the recipe for making which is elsewhere given—then with a soft crayon-pencil, or a very black lead-pencil (from 3 to 4 B), trace the whole. If the paper be not transparent enough, then use thin glass, or, what is far better, sheets of mica, gummed together at the edges, which will not break even if dropped. Trace the picture on this with a fine brush and black oil-colour, or any black paint which will hold. Then make a tracing from this on transparent paper. To transfer crayon or lead pencil drawing to wood or paper, very slightly dampen the surface of the latter, lay the tracing on it face down, and rub the back of the latter with a burnisher or ivory paper-knife. It will thus be perfectly transferred. This making preparatory sketches or copies will be found in many cases extremely useful, as training the eye carefully to the work to be done.

It is not invariably true, though a great authority on picture-cleaning (Henry Mogford) has declared the contrary—that “pictures ... unquestionably enjoy their highest perfection at the first moment of production.” Many artists recognise the truth that a year, or even years, are needed to give a certain delicate tone, which is like the ripeness of fruit, to certain pictures; and the same is true of certain artists, though by no means in the same degree of all. But there are many persons who can associate the mellowing tones of age or the venerable grey of antiquity with nothing but dirt, decay, and poverty; as was the case with an Italian marquis, who, having heard that a distinguished artist4 had copied an old moss-grown wall or fragment of ruin on his estate, sent an apology to the latter, stating that if he had known that such a distinguished person intended to copy it he would have had it cleaned and lime-washed, not in glaring white (he knew better than that, he said), but in light blue! So I have known an American gentleman to be distressed at discovering the appearance of lichen on a corner of a “spick-and-span, brand-new villa,” which he at once declared must be cleaned and painted all over. People who suffer from this vulgar mania of over-scouring are apt to imagine that when they detect the least sign of age in a picture it suggests dirt and neglect, and hurry it off to the cleaner; unless, indeed (as is too often the case), they—with insufficient knowledge, and with “notions generally derived from guess-work, and suggested by the usual arrangements for taking care of other household objects”—attempt to restore the work themselves, which has been the cause of the ruin of thousands of great works of art.

It may here be observed that modern pictures, owing to the hurried processes of manufacture and the use of cheap materials in machinery-made paints, change so rapidly that many lose half their value in fifty years’ time. And, as if this were not enough, we have the sulphuric acids generated by coal-fires (especially that from anthracite coal in America, which even eats away the lime in chimneys), as well as the deleterious effects of gas, vapours from food, and, finally, the want of air and light in ever-curtained and shaded rooms.

The causes, in fact, which lead to deterioration in pictures are almost as many as those which produce diseases in man, and in not a few instances they will be found to be the same. These are, as I have said, foul air or malaria, or want of fresh air, dampness, the smoke of candles in churches, too long exposure to sunshine, the exhalations of charcoal, sulphur, sinks, &c.; “in short, all penetrating scents are injurious to painting, especially if it be new.” Owing to this prevalence of gas and coal smoke in houses, allied to the bad quality of paints, as now manufactured cheaply by machinery, it is, indeed, considered doubtful whether any of the pictures painted during the reign of Queen Victoria will exist in “half-visible” condition fifty or a hundred years hence. There is, as regards them, a grand future for the restorer. One need only look at most of Turner’s earlier pictures to fully verify what is here asserted.

The face of all old pictures long untouched will always be found covered more or less with what is simply dirt; that is, dust more or less dissolved by moisture. Now, dust consists simply of all kinds of substances, even invisible extinct animal organisms in vast numbers. The first step is simply to wash away this dirt with distilled or rain water and ox-gall. Use a very soft, clean sponge, and pass it over the picture many times. The last time wrap the sponge in a clean, white linen or muslin handkerchief to see whether the surface is quite clean. This and nothing more will often produce an astonishing improvement.

The next task will be to remove the varnish. Hot water attacks any varnish, reducing it to a dry powder; but, as M. Goupil remarks, this is très hasarde, or is very risky, because it may also attack and dissolve anything like gum or glue in the colours. M. Goupil, however, sanctions the use of cold water in cleaning even to mere abuse, in which he is in contradiction to Henry Mogford, whose work I regard as by far the best with which I am acquainted on the subject of cleaning and restoring pictures which I have read.5 On this subject he says:—

“During all operations of lining, and of picture-cleaning generally, saturation by water is attended with disastrous effects, and the use of it should therefore be limited to application by means of a squeezed piece of sponge, or, what is better, a piece of buff leather, soaked and wrung out. Water is a most dangerous enemy to pictures; it penetrates to the priming or ground, loosens them by promoting decomposition of the size with which they are worked, and thus lays the foundation for their eventual disintegration and decay. Imbibed damp will sooner or later cause the destruction of every woven material, and while our daily experience shows its lamentable effects on the walls of our dwellings, it will be well for us to remember that it is no less destructive to the canvas of our pictures, and to the materials which form its priming.

“All the pictures of the early masters of the Italian school, and those of Claude and William Vandervelde, which are painted on chalk and absorbent grounds, are in the greatest danger if washed with water. It penetrates through the small crevices which may exist in the paint, and often totally destroys the picture. If the painting be upon canvas, like those of the two latter-named masters, it breaks into a thousand small lines or cracks; and if upon panel, like the pictures of Raffaelle, Andrea del Sarto, or Fra Bartolomeo, it breaks up the paint by scaling it off in small points of the size of a pin’s head. If the picture, again, is of the Spanish school, and is painted upon the red absorbent grounds and upon a rough canvas, water not only breaks the unity of its surface, but from the canvas being of a coarser texture than the pictures of Claude or William Vandervelde, it often penetrates in a greater proportion, and frequently scales off pieces as large as a sixpence, especially in the dark shadows, or where the ground has not been sufficiently protected by a thick impasto (heavy coat or ground) of colour. At all times and to all pictures water is more or less dangerous, unless used with the greatest caution, and then it should only be applied by means of a piece of thick buckskin leather well wrung out, and left just wet enough to slip lightly over the surface of the picture. In the case of some masters, as with those we have specialised above, the free use of water may be regarded as next door to absolute destruction; and the warmer and drier the weather the more active and ruinous the operation. Instances have occurred in which an Andrea del Sarto, a Claude and a William Vandervelde, were destroyed in a few minutes by the injudicious use of simple water.”

I have given this quotation in full, because water is generally the first thing freely resorted to clean pictures by the ignorant. Thus I have heard of very valuable pictures being actually given to common servants or the washerwoman to scour clean, which was effected with soap and hot water and sand, to the speedy ruin of the work. Nor is it any great wonder that this should be done, when we find in Goupil’s work that, while he admits that cold water “infiltrates itself partially to the fissures of a painting and does great harm,” he declares that “hot water acts differently,” giving the impression that it may be very freely used, and declaring that “clean cold water harmlessly dissolves grease and dirt resulting from dust deposited by the air.” This is true, but he does not seem, like Mr. Mogford, to have fully understood the other side of the question. (Manuel Général et Complet de la Peinture à l’Huile, par F. Goupil.)

For first cleaning away impurities from a surface Mogford recommends ox-gall to be applied with a soft brush. This may be obtained in shilling or six-penny bottles from Winsor & Newton, or any other dealers in artists’ materials. “It is,” he adds, “an excellent detergent, which may be freely applied without fear. It must, however, be well washed” (i.e., wiped) “off with pure water, or it will leave a clamminess on the surface that may prevent the varnish, afterwards applied, from drying.” But a distinction must be carefully borne in mind between washing with water and letting it soak into a picture and simply wiping off the surface with a damp chamois or buckskin or soft old linen handkerchief. In fact, this latter is the first thing to be done before slightly cleaning the surface with the diluted ox-gall. It is very necessary that the skilled cleaner shall understand exactly the nature of varnishes, so as to know on what he is to work. Thus, according to the picture, he may employ “liquor potassæ, oil of tartar, spirits of wine, pure alcohol, liquor ammoniæ fortis, naphtha, ether, soda, and oil of spike or lavender. The very nomenclature of these powerful agents will at once show the great risk of their being injudiciously or carelessly employed.”

Great care should be taken not to allow an excessive or unequal quantity of cleaning fluid to gather in one place. Therefore all pictures should be laid flat while being restored, as streams, for instance of ammonia, would cut very irregularly into a surface. With pictures of any value, the process of cleaning is always very delicate, requiring much practice and very perfect knowledge of all the principles of the art.

Where the varnishes are tender and thin, such as mastic, Mogford advises the use of spirits of wine; but to be sure that no harm can be done by it, it is desirable that “the spirit, which is usually sold at 58° of strength, should be diluted by a fourth part of water, or by the same proportion of rectified spirits of turpentine, or it may be used with an addition of a sixth part of linseed oil, added to the diluted or pure spirit.” In every instance the mixture is to be “well shaken before taken,” or applied. Care should be taken to prevent oil from softening the paint, which it is apt to do. As a rule it is best to begin with the lightest or brightest portions of a picture—as, for instance, the face of a portrait—as these parts are always the hardest. Beginning by wiping the surface with white cotton wool and turpentine, observe if any varnish comes off on it, and as soon as it is seen change the part of the rubber used, else you will go on simply taking up “dirt” from one place and rubbing it into another. This is elsewhere explained as regards cleaning cloth or absorbing ink, that we must continually subtract from and not add again to the ground.

“Turpentine is a counteracting medium, which instantly arrests the action of the solvent spirit.” When all the varnish has thus been removed, the whole may be wiped over with spirits of turpentine, and then when dry revarnished, if nothing more be required.

Rubbing with the fingers, or powders, or any kind of dry cleaning must be avoided, or else practised with great care, since it produces an effect known as woolliness, which will begin to show very decidedly after some time. But when a picture has had no varnish it can only be cleaned mechanically, as by using tripoli, pumice-stone, or whiting. This method requires great skill. Sometimes a very fine-edged scraper or knife is used to thin the varnish before using turpentine.

“Solvents,” adds Mogford, “are only necessary to remove varnish.” Unvarnished pictures are best cleaned by carefully wiping with buff or chamois leather, damp, not wet, aided by a little powdered whiting.

Varnish, when not on a picture, may, however, be removed by rubbing it with the fingers, or palm, or leather, aided by powdered resin, or rosin. For certain purposes, as to make a panel of a piano thoroughly seasoned for heat, and, as it were, enamel it, a coat of varnish is applied, and when dry is rubbed down smooth with pumice-powder or resin, and this process is repeated many times.

If pictures are painted in oil, directly on canvas, without a ground, the paint sinks down in between the threads and lies thinly on them. Therefore if there is rubbing on the surface the grain of the canvas becomes very apparent. If oil-paint be laid directly on a panel of wood, the soft parts between the hard fibres, lines, or grain shrink away, drawing the paint with them. Old artists avoided this by laying on a strong ground of gesso or plaster of Paris mixed with glue or white of eggs.

The great task in cleaning is to remove the repainting or coats of paint which have been added by restorers. I have seen this done with extraordinary skill by the late Mr. Merritt, who was recommended by Ruskin, and who was the first and most truly artistic restorer of his time. I can recall his cleaning the most beautiful Carpoccio which I ever saw, and a magnificent Velasquez, both of which had been repainted again and again, and were in such wretched condition that even the painter of the latter had been mistaken. They bore about the same relation when untouched and afterwards that a dirty old rag has to a magnificent cashmere shawl. “Caustic, soap-makers’ lye, liquor potassæ, pure alcohol, and the scraper,” remarks Mogford, “are the ordinary means to take off repaints; all of them dangerous appliances if not closely watched and used without violence or carelessness.”

It is advisable to examine carefully the backs of old pictures for signatures, date, or documents, all of which are sometimes pasted over with other paper or canvas. Once, in Florence, I found in a small shop a portrait of Charles I., but differing in many respects from any which I had ever seen. I told the owner that it was by Vandyke, but he insisted on it that it was by an Italian with some such name as Guillermo or Gillonio, till I proposed that we should examine the back, where we found, after some investigation, the name of Vandyke. At which discovery the dealer promptly raised the price of the picture from one hundred to one thousand francs, and it was, indeed, cheap enough at that. A lady to whom I narrated the occurrence said, “Oh, why didn’t you buy the picture before you told the man who painted it?” To which I replied, “For the same reason that I did not steal a valuable ring out of the case in the shop when his back was turned.” Much is said about the shrewdness of dealers in antiques, but it has often happened to me to explain to them that articles in their possession were worth far more than they imagined; while, on the other hand, they will, surmising that a thing may be worth a great deal, charge a fearful sum for something that is merely cinque cento; e.g., a thousand francs for what is really dear at ten. I mention this in order that the reader may realise (which few do) what bargains may be picked up by any one who knows anything of art, and especially of the humble art of cleaning, mending, or restoring, which lets us into a world of secrets even in high art, and which is of more use to a picture-buyer than all the high-flown æsthetic culture in all the works of all the rhapsodists of the age.

The preceding remarks on cleaning were drawn chiefly from the manual by H. Mogford, and my own experiences. I add to them those of M. Goupil on the same subject. The intelligent leader will find no difficulty in collecting and drawing his own inferences from both:—

“When the picture is certainly in oil, steam may be used to remove the varnish. There is, however, the great risk of loosening the painting from its ground.”

But when a picture has been, instead of varnished, glazed with white of egg, we have a coating which, when old, cannot be dissolved by water or acids; for this other and specially elaborate detergents, or cleaners, are employed. There are few substances which so persistently harden with time as the white of egg, as does also the yolk when boiled.

Ordinary varnish, when dry and old, can be removed by mechanically scraping or rubbing with fine, dry powders, such as that of resin. The dust from the varnish itself aids in the operation. This process is slow and tiresome, but it is very often advisable to begin with it, after washing, as it does not injure the colours. It is needless to say that it requires great skill, care, and experience not to “cut into the colour.”

It may be remarked, as regards this, that in all cases where there is a difference of opinion between the French and English artist—as in the use of water—we must remember that both are, or may be, in the right as regards certain kinds of pictures. So varied are the methods of painters that it seems to me to be by far wiser to describe different methods than to attempt the impossible task of giving infallible rules.

“Varnish can be removed by means of spirits. To effect this, lay the picture on a table, and wet a small portion of it with spirits of wine. After a minute or more, wash the place with clean water and a sponge. Thus, little by little, clean the entire surface, taking care not to injure the paint, When quite dry, apply new varnish.”

Practised restorers, who can tell by examination and knowledge of the methods employed by painters what they can venture on, often use detergents which would ruin the picture if applied by a person without experience. These are alkaline salts, such as wood-ashes or lye, pearl and pot ashes, or salts of tartar, all of which, except the latter, are extremely hazardous for a tyro. Salts of tartar may be safely employed if we begin with a feeble solution, which may be gradually strengthened.

Wood-ashes, very finely sifted, are spread on the face of the picture, and delicately, or carefully and lightly, rubbed with a soft sponge. This must be carefully washed away as soon as the surface is cleaned.

Other detergents failing, borax dissolved in water may be employed. This works slowly but surely; but, as M. Goupil remarks, this lessive, like wood ashes, must not be left long on the colours, but be promptly wiped away with a sponge. Lime-water will serve as well as the solution of borax.

Soaps of different qualities are also used for cleaning, according to the state of the picture. It may be here again remarked that no exact rule can be given regarding an art specially founded on skill and experience. The beginner should first try his hand on a few common old pictures.

Soap made into a foam or lather with water will generally clean a surface, however dark it may be from smoke. Let the foam settle completely, and then wipe it clean with a damp sponge.

Essential oils, especially turpentine, or those of spikenard, lavender, and rosemary—of either two parts of spirits of wine to one of turpentine, &c.—are commonly used to clean pictures.

Pictures not varnished require great care and skill in cleaning. For these yeast with water, or flour mixed with lime-water, is employed; also spirits of wine or vinegar. Ammonia is also used. Goupil mentions that one of the most dangerous mediums for this purpose is the old one of urine, and that it should never be used.

When the canvas of a picture is very old and rotten, it may be replaced by a process requiring the utmost nicety. If only certain portions are injured, it will suffice to glue pieces of fine canvas on the back.

To completely transfer the painting, gum over its surface two coats of soft paper. Lay it on the face, and carefully remove the old canvas ground. This is effected by wetting every thread till soft, and then picking it away. A piece of pumice-stone and tweezers are also used. When all fibres are removed, carefully glue a canvas and apply it, pressing it well on the back of the paint. Before it is quite dry, press the picture with a warm flat-iron, not too hot. Then remove the paper carefully with a damp sponge and by tearing.

To transfer a picture on wood, the back is sawn into many small triangles or squares, which are carefully chiselled away one by one. Then with files and scrapers approach the paint till only a thin film of wood remains. The last remnant is wetted with a sponge, and picked or scraped away. First, use paper on the face and restore as before.

There is a great enemy to pictures in mould or mildew, which has quasi-equivalents in must, dry-rot, mucor, or robigo. It is divided by Goupil into apparent softening and actual softening or mildew. The former is mildew or mere superficial mould; i.e., a light vegetation which gathers on the surface from germs in the air. It can easily be wiped away, and is caused by dampness. Sometimes, when long rooted, it destroys the varnish, which must be replaced. There is also a mould which is properly decay, or a radical destruction of fabric, for which there is, in fact, no cure, save in renewing the canvas and retouching the picture.

Where a picture is painted by glazing, especially where varnish comes in instead of body, it is apt to crack or thread like a cobweb. In time these divisions will scale off in flakes. Wax dissolved in turpentine is used for the light cracks. Scaling must be treated by careful softening with oil and pressing down a warm iron. The surface must, previous to ironing, be covered with chalked paper.

It sometimes happens that a picture has been painted over, and I have seen a very distinguished restorer in such case succeed in removing the outer coat. This requires great knowledge of the chemical properties of the paint; also of solvents, and the different methods of scraping, absorbing, &c. Still, it can be learned with patience. Extraordinary results have been thus obtained. It has often happened that men with little or no knowledge of painting have fancied themselves capable of “repairing” very valuable pictures, and so smeared them over to utter ruin.

Before attempting to retouch an old picture, let the restorer make a copy of it. If he can do this very well he is qualified for his work, and not otherwise. The fraternity of picture-cleaners and menders may protest against this; but the vast amount—I may say the vast proportion, meaning the majority—of good pictures spoiled by bad retouching confirms the truth of my assertion.

It is worth remarking in this connection that very few amateurs, æsthetes, or “connoisseurs,” so called, appreciate the value of mere technique or practical work in art. They “swarm for the ideal,” and that is all. The great masters were wiser than this. It would do much good if very generous prizes on a large scale were to be paid annually for copies of great pictures. And I would have rewards given specially for pictures painted with colours prepared by the artists themselves from chemically pure and unalterable materials, according to the ancient recipes. I would like to see a society formed of artists who would produce such work. It would certainly find buyers—in time.

There are to be found in most curiosity shops in Italy panel pictures of the fourteenth century, earlier or later, with gold grounds, which can be had of all prices, from a very few francs upward. They are without name and of no great artistic merit, but very curious and interesting indeed as ancient relics painted “before oil,” and as inspired with the spirit of the Middle Ages. These generally require restoration. They were painted on wood of all kinds, very often on deal. The surface was covered with a thin coat of gesso or plaster of Paris, mixed with the white of egg, and on this the gilding and paint were applied. The latter was in white of egg and fig-juice, or encaustic—that is, wax and white of egg, which is the most ancient and durable method known; so much so that long after every oil-painting ever executed (if left to itself) will have disappeared, the ancient Egyptian, Roman, or Middle Ages pictures will be as fresh as if made yesterday.

If a panel be warped or bent, it is straightened by damping the concave side, and screwing to it crosspieces. If the ground be scaled away, supply it with powdered plaster of Paris mixed with gum-water. The repainting can be executed with water-colours mixed with white of egg, gouache, or even oil in small quantities, which should be rather rubbed in or glazed than painted in body.

A common panel picture of the fourteenth and fifteenth century, painted with white of egg, can be well enough restored with water-colour, or gouache, and then varnished. But the colour with gouache medium will not hold well, except on the gesso-ground. It is apt to scale off from any smooth, hard surface. Therefore it is difficult to restore them by painting on the old hard glaze. Most of the mediums which are sold to heighten water-colours—e.g., Winsor & Newton’s glass medium—will cause the colour to adhere.

A GROUND FOR WAX-PAINTING ON POROUS SUBSTANCES was made as follows:—

Melt the wax in a bain-marie, pass the solution through a linen strainer, and lay it on in successive coats on a wall which is first heated by a hand-furnace or brazier. To close holes in the wall use a putty made of wax, gum-animé, resin, and whiting.

Colours are prepared for wax-painting by grinding them with a gluten. They are the same in substance as those mixed with oil for oil-painting. The gluten is made as follows:—

A harder gluten can be made by substituting copal for the gum-animé.

There is a vast field for profitable labour in the cleaning and restoration of old pictures, as well as of antiques of all kinds, and thousands of young or even elder artists, whose life is a painful struggle towards becoming known, would do well to endeavour to raise the art of restoration to its proper place, instead of being ashamed to descend to it.

The restorer should make a point of studying varnishes, oils, and colours, with great care. Let him read what cyclopædia articles and books he can find on these subjects, and make all practical inquiries from manufacturers and dealers. He should, if he intends to seriously practise the art, study chemistry. I can imagine no better restorer than a skilful analyst. There is a great deal yet to be learned regarding colours, and most of it will come by the way of chemistry. A great deal is, however, actually being revived or arriving as new from training “the popular eye” to hitherto unaccustomed shades, tints, and tones. During the Middle Ages, when culture was exhausted in art and decoration, there was a marvellous development in this respect, even in most delicate details, though much of it now seems so “loud” or excessive to us. We have of late years learned a great deal from China and Japan as regards subdued colours. It may be that as in Oriental music even the tenth part of a note becomes as distinct to the practised ear as a natural one, so these blendings and subdivisions of hues may be as perceptible to people as the normal colours. All of this should be carefully studied by the restorer as well as the painter.

The restoration of a fine work of art which has become utterly dim, wrinkled with a thousand lines, and, it may be, utterly ugly to beauty and freshness, is so much like a resurrection or transfiguration to new life, youth, and beauty, that poets have not failed to use it as a simile for all that is expressive of renaissance. Thus Dean Hole, in his Memoirs, remarks that, “as when some beautiful picture which has been concealed and forgotten, removed in time of battle lest it should be destroyed by the enemy, is found after many years, and is carefully cleaned and skilfully restored, and the eye is delighted with the successive development of colour and of form, and the life-like countenance, the historical scene, the sunny landscape, or the moonlit sea come out once more upon the canvas; so in that great revival of religion which began in England more than half a century ago the glorious truths of the Gospel were restored.” Regarded in itself, the art of restoring beauty is both beautiful and noble, and deserves to be regarded as such.

GENERAL RECIPES

Recipe.—The word. A formula or prescription is a recipe, derived from the Latin word recipe, meaning take. An acknowledgment of money paid is a receipt, from receptus, or received. A description of the materials to be used in making a pie is not a receipt, but a recipe.—Familiar Errors.

To clean Woollen Cloth.—Rub it with sal-ammoniac and water till clean, then wash with pure water. This liquid is very useful, when any article of clothing has been stained by vinegar, wine, or lemon, to restore the original colour.

An old-fashioned but excellent method of cleaning greased silk ribbons or cloth is as follows:—Lay the ribbon on a wad or flat surface of cotton wadding, strew on this dried clay, or calcined magnesia, or whiting, and over this another layer of wadding. Pass over it a flat-iron not too warm. The oil or grease will be absorbed into the cotton. Repeat this till the cure is effected. If any spots still remain, paint them with yolk of egg, dry the stuff in a draught of air, and when quite hardened remove the yoke and wash with water.

Wine-stains can be removed by simply pressing on them pads dampened with cold water. This method will succeed, when wiping only spreads a stain. Salt alone is also employed.

“When a lady’s skirt of any material has had spilt on it gravy, wine, oil, or any light liquid, as distinguished from such substances as paint, pitch, or tar, do not attempt, as is usually the case, to wipe or wash it clean. Lay a linen sheet or even spongy white paper—wanting this, newspapers may be used—on a table; on this spread the soiled fabric very evenly. Then lay on the upper surface another clean white sheet, or white muslin cloth, or napkins or towels, and press on it till as much as possible of the fluid is sucked out. By changing the white cloths or paper, and pressing continually, the fabric can be very nearly cleaned. Then dust it well with calcined magnesia in powder or whiting. Where these cannot be had chalk will answer. This will generally absorb all that remains of the grease.”—Notes by a Housekeeper (MS.).

“Clean, dry blotting-paper laid on grease-stains is admirable for extraction. Apply pressure with a flat-iron or hand-roller such as is used for bread. There are blotting-paper rollers, made for ink, which are quite suitable for cleaning cloth; but the paper should be thrown away the instant it has received any grease; otherwise it will only spread the stain and make it indelible by rubbing it into the fibre of the threads. A good soft sponge will also be found to be almost equal to it.”—Notes by a Housekeeper (MS.).

Old woollen or silk garments can be very brilliantly renewed in the following manner:—They are steeped in sulphuric cupreous acid (copper or blue vitriol), oxide of lead, or bismuth oxide, or simply with their metallic oxides, and then exposed to steam, mingled with sulphuric acid gas. Another method is to steep the stuffs simply in a solution of sulphuric acid and copper or of oxide of bismuth. This is slowly heated, but the heating must be qualified according to the colour of the stuffs to be revived. The application of these requires great care and some knowledge or experience.

Ink for restoring inscriptions on metal of any kind, silver, zinc, or brass:—To one part of crystallised acetic acid, oxide of copper, one of ammonia, and half a part of soot from fir wood. Mix in a saucer with ten parts of water. This is said to resist exposure to the weather very well.

A very valuable aid to the restorer or mender of implements, when it can be obtained, is Raw Hide. This material dries as hard as any wood and is tougher than any textile fabric. Thus, if a broken wheel or any portion of a vehicle is tied with a thong of raw hide, firmly drawn, when the latter dries, shrinking a little, it holds better than iron. Raw or untanned ox-hide or similar skin, when dried, is in fact similar to parchment, and, like it, resembles horn in hardness. The strongest trunks in the world are made in America from raw hide. This material, when made into small objects, such as flasks, boxes, sheaths, or portable ink-stands, has often withstood the wear of generations. As it is cheap, easily moulded into form, or stamped, it is remarkable that it is no longer used as it once was.

Lead-pencil or crayon drawings can be preserved from rubbing by a light wash of gum of any kind, diluted varnish, or even milk. The latter is in most cases preferable. It is also preservative of handwriting, and, like all glazes, prevents fading.

Bases for beads and similar work can be made as follows:—Take mother-of-pearl dust, which can be bought cheaply at a turner’s, powder or levigate it finely, mix it with half its bulk of fine white barley-meal, and make it up with a weak solution of gum-mastic. Also take snail-shells, or the glaze of any large, hard sea-shells, washing them first in strong lye to clean them. Pulverise and make up with yolk of eggs and alum, or any other fine binder. The same can be done with rock-crystal or pure flint. Grind it to finest powder, and make it up with a well-incorporated mixture of the white of eggs and pure gum-arabic. This will, when dry, become hard as a stone, and more and more waterproof with age.

To pulverise Glass.—First put in the fire till red-hot, then drop it into cold water, after which reduce it in a mortar. Glass-powder thus made, mixed with almost any cement, renders it extremely hard. It is also mixed with paint.

Burnished steel or iron-work can be preserved from rusting by rubbing the article with oil of cloves or oil of lavender; also with a mixture of turpentine, oil of lavender or cloves, and petroleum. Mercurial ointment is commonly used for guns.

Rust can be removed from iron by rubbing it with oil of tartar (oleum tartari), using a woollen rag.

Brass-ware, when it has become dull or rusty, may be renewed and made to look like gold. Take sal-ammoniac, grind it in a mortar with saliva; rub this on the brass; lay it on hot coals to dry it well, and tub it with a woollen cloth. So says Johann Wallberger; adding: “With this art a certain man did once, in Rome, gain much money, inasmuch as he thereby did clean the brass lamps of the churches and other things of the same metal.” There is another preparation for the same purpose still more gold-like. It consists of sulphur, chalk, and the soot from wood fires. But as it soon disappears, the brass should be lackered or varnished.

The best cleaner for brass with which I am acquainted is a German preparation used by Barkentin & Krall, Regent Street, from whom it can also be obtained.

A very strong cement, and one good for luting, can be made by combining sturgeon’s bladder, dissolved in spirits, with finest pulverised flint or sand.

Glue, into which resin has been well infused by heat, combined with sand or ashes or clay, forms a strong cement, useful for all kinds of coarse work.

A very good, strong cement is made as follows:—To three-eighths of a pound of water add three-eighths of a pound of spirits and a quarter of a pound of starch; also, prepare two ounces of good glue in water, mixed with two ounces of thick turpentine, and stir well into the first composition. This is a very good bookbinders’ glue.

The tufa or soft stone which abounds in Italy and elsewhere is much used when reduced to powder and burned for building. It is also useful as a cement. An old writer says it can be brayed in a mortar, but that “there are many who, for lack of a mortar, take old baptismal fonts out of the churches, and in lieu of a pestle use the clapper of a church bell.”

A curious decoration may be made by drawing figures—for example, of animals—with glue or gum on a wall surface, and then powdering it with cloth-dust of appropriate colours. These figures can be stencilled.

As of all repairing and restoring that of human beauty is the most important, it may be worth while to give here a few recipes, which have held their own for centuries:—

To make Wrinkles and Freckles disappear.—This is more possible than is generally supposed, and I have known a lady, a great beauty, of whom all my readers have heard, who at fifty years of age had artificially and miraculously preserved her face in perfect smoothness, though I do not know by what means. The following is given by Wallberger:—“Take fine, pure alum, compound it carefully with the fresh white of eggs, and boil it gently in a pipkin, stirring it constantly with a wooden stick or spoon till it forms a soft paste. Spread this on the face, morning and evening, for two or three days, and you will soon see that it is free from wrinkles and freckles, and marvellously fair and pleasant to view. Frivolous souls may carry the sinful misuse of such beauty to their own account; the virtuous hold in horror all such deeds” (Zauberbuch, 1760).

Lemon-juice or the salts of lemon, or lemon-juice and salt, are of great service in whitening the hands and causing freckles to disappear.

Gum-benzoin dissolved in spirits may be had of every apothecary. Pour a few drops into a wine-glassful of warm water, and it will form a milk-white emulsion, which is a perfect and harmless cosmetic for the face, and serves as a delightful soap in washing. This is the lac virginis so much used two centuries ago.

Eau de Cologne mixed with water forms a white emulsion, which is much superior to any soap for delicate hands. It forms a perfectly harmless cosmetic for the face. Even a few drops of it in a basin of water will have a good result. Too much of it, or of any wash, will have a contrary effect, and dry the skin. If the mouth be rinsed with this emulsion of eau de cologne and water, it will purify the breath, and that for a long time if used as a gargle.

A strong marking-ink, or black dye, which will resist much exposure to the weather, is made as follows:—Take gum-arabic 10 lbs., logwood liquor (specific gravity 1.37) 20 fluid oz., bi-chromate of potash 2½ oz., with water sufficient to dissolve the bi-chromate. Dissolve the gum in one gallon of water, strain, add the logwood liquor, mix, and let the mixture stand for twenty-four hours; then stir in rapidly the bi-chromate solution, and add a little nitrate of iron and fustic acid. If too thick, thin with lukewarm water.

A very hard cement can be made by digesting fluor spar for some time in sulphuric acid, adding magnesium sulphate and stirring calcined magnesia into the mixture.

A red cement for iron or stone or luting is made of red lead and litharge in equal parts mixed with concentrated glycerine to the consistency of soft putty. When dry it is water and fire proof.

Silico enamel is a thin liquid glaze, finer than varnish, which is easily applied to all polished metals, as well as other substances. It may be obtained in bottles, price one shilling, with brush, of the Silico Enamel Company, 97 Hampstead Road, London, N.W.

Light-coloured gloves may be cleaned by rolling bread-crumb over them; also with indiarubber. Also by means of benzine. Several patent washes for this purpose are now sold.

Cleaning Marble.—“If ‘Sculptor’ will get some salts of wormwood, and dissolve in warm water, then mix with whiting into a moderate paste, and apply to stone or marble, and let it remain upon either for twenty-four hours—and if not successful the first time, apply again—he will draw all stains out of marble, and clear all lichen either from sandstones or oolitic stones. Thoroughly wash the stone with a strong soap (say, of Hudson’s No. 2 soap powder) and lukewarm water, and, when thoroughly dry, give a coat of sulphuretted oil. He can make his own oil. Boil in a bath one quart of linseed-oil for one hour, with half-a-pound of flower of sulphur gently and continually stirring same; then take off fire and let cool; then pour oil from sediment, using oil upon stone. No lichen will hurt his stone if out exposed to the air, for the rain will wash all clean every time. I have cleaned several statues with nothing but Hudson’s No. 2 and water.”—Work, April 2, 1892.

Calcined magnesia, or calcined and powdered bone, laid for some time on simply oiled or greased marble, which has first been well washed with soap and water, will often extract the stain. For ink use oxalic acid in weak solution with water.

Gum-dextrine, or gum substitute, is made from roasted flour. It forms, mixed with water, a gum not much inferior to gum-arabic, for which it is, as the name denotes, a substitute. It is very extensively used in many manufactures, and may be obtained of any chemist. It sometimes happens that it is too brittle after drying, and does not hold. In such case add four or five drops of glycerine to a teacupful of the dextrine in solution.

Mouth Glue (Mundleim) or Solid Cement.—This is sold by stationers in thin, flat sticks or tablets, and is used by wetting and rubbing it, chiefly for paper. It is made as follows for labels:—

The sturgeon’s bladder is first dissolved, the sugar then added, also a few drops of carbolic acid, which causes it to set more firmly, and also to resist mould in dampness, induced by the presence of sugar. This cement is applicable to glass, wood, or metal. Like the following, it has the advantage of being always ready to use, and requires no boiling. If it becomes too hard to use freely, let so much of it as is required steep for a time in water. Many think, from merely dampening it in the mouth when it is hard, and using it immediately, that it is a very weak adhesive, which is a mistake. A great deal of that sold by the stationers is, however, of very inferior quality, and made with very common glue.

Mouth glue in tablets:—

The glue, sugar, and gum are boiled in the water until a drop let fall on a slab hardens. It is then rolled and cut into flat cakes.

To mend or make Meerschaum Pipes.—Dissolve caseine in silicate of soda; stir into the cement fine calcined magnesia. By the addition of meerschaum powder a close imitation of meerschaum in the mass can be made.

Turkish cement of the strongest kind, and such as is used to attach gems to metal, is made as follows:—

The sturgeon’s bladder, shredded, is dissolved with spirits of wine while remaining in a warm place; the gum is also dissolved in spirit and mixed with the sturgeon’s bladder; the whole must be then carefully and slowly boiled to a syrup. Close with a cork, as it is sure to gum tightly.

To improve Corks.—When bottles contain substances which adhere to the cork and harden, the latter should be first steeped in oil or vaseline, or boiled in a mixture of both.

Armenian Cement.—This is much like Diamond and Turkish cements:—

I.

II.

The sturgeon’s bladder is dissolved in spirits of wine separately, the gum-ammoniac and mastic also, but with a minimum of spirit; the two are then combined.

A cement which will resist the action of spirits of wine will often be very valuable, as when large lids are to be fastened to jars containing anatomical preparations. One is made as follows:—

This must be freely used to make the cover adhere. When in time it shall become brittle, coat it over with a thick solution of asphaltum in turpentine or petroleum.

To seal bottles very securely, roughen the opening or mouth with a file or glass-paper, drive in a hard cork till half-an-inch below the top, and then seal it with silicate of soda mixed with marble-dust.

Chloride of zinc added to silicate of soda and oxide of zinc forms a very good cement, which will resist most influences.

Bread macerated with glue or gelatine, with a little glycerine, makes an admirable substance for artificial flowers, casts, medallions, &c. If worked with gum-arabic and a little alum, or dextrine, or common mucilage, we shall have the same result. It can also be worked with thin varnish or gutta-percha cement; also with diluted sulphuric or nitric acids to produce a hard substance. It may here be observed that bread is for certain work far superior to flour or starch paste, since the combination with yeast causes a development of cellular tissue, the result of which is a firmer and more wax-like substance. I was led to observe this at first, not from what I read of the action of acids on bread, but from observing the bread-flowers made by the Italian peasantry to adorn images of saints. I believe that in these there is a little vinegar mixed. They are quite wax-like. The bread used should be soft household bread, of course well kneaded with the acid and colours. Bread-paste would probably combine well with indiarubber in solution.

Of late, German illustrated newspapers have published patterns of small ornamental dishes made of dough or bread, intended to receive conserves of fruit and other edibles—the dishes themselves not being intended to be eaten.

Soft bread with a little varnish or any ordinary gum and a little glycerine, well worked, makes an admirable filler for cracks in wood. Combined with any gum, or even with tragacanth or peach or cherry gum, and lamp-black (or liquid Indian ink), it forms a cement which resembles ebony. The more thoroughly it is macerated the harder it will be. Casts of panels, &c., made with this are really beautiful. Rub with oil and the hand after it is quite dry. Add a few drops of glycerine and alum in solution to prevent cracking, or, better, a little indiarubber. Soft rye bread hardens to a rather tougher cement than wheat. Bread cement makes an admirable ground for gilding or painting. Bread macerated with lime and white of egg forms a very hard composition like ivory. Bread, glue, and glycerine, ditto.

Horse-Chestnut Paste.—This is called a cement, but it is properly a paste like that of flour. Horse-chestnuts are generally neglected, but they can be profitably utilised for paste, which admits of the same combinations as flour.

Waste tea-leaves from which the tea has been extracted can be macerated with gum and treated as rose-leaves to form artificial ebony. Carefully separate all the hard portions.

Gum for general use, like gum-arabic:—

Stir the lime into the warm solution of sugar and water. Keep it boiling and stir it often for one hour. Pour off the liquid from the lees of the lime. This gum also admits of modifications. One of these is the well-known Syndetikon, which is made as follows:—To fifteen parts of the sugar and lime solution add three of good glue, leaving them to soak for twenty-four hours; warm gradually, and frequently stir, till the glue is dissolved. Then let it boil for a few minutes. This makes a good plain cement, which serves to unite paper, leather, glass, or porcelain. It, however, spots or changes colour in paper, &c.

A general cement, which may be used for joining metal and glass, stone, tiles, &c., is thus made:—

The general mending cement so commonly sold consists of nothing but—

This must be mixed with water when used. It does not, however, resist the action of hot water.

A cement which resists acids is made as follows:—Indiarubber is dissolved in double its weight of linseed-oil, and kneaded to a dough with white bolus. Should the cement harden too quickly, add to it a little litharge.

Indiarubber cement for chemical apparatus:—

This does not resist high temperature, but is good against acids.

Scheibler’s cement for chemical apparatus:—

Sorel’s Cement.—This consists of oxide of zinc combined with its chloride. The chloride of zinc is in a heavy, syrupy form, which, combined with the white oxide, sets very hard. It is chiefly used for filling teeth, but is also applicable to making medallions and other objects of art. For this latter purpose it is mixed with powdered chalk, pulverised glass, &c. The process of preparing and combining the ingredients of this cement is, however, so tedious that it is most unlikely that the ordinary repairer will care to attempt it; the more so as there are many preparations far superior to it.

Glue for tapestry, &c.:—

This may also be applied in many ways.

To lute stills, &c.:—

To be well mixed with water.