From the days of Helen down to the latest revelations of the divorce court we have grown used to the idea of extreme beauty in woman being an abundant breeder of trouble; and yet we are apt to consider it as none the less desirable. Beauty in art, less piquant than that supreme example, when once established and settled in place proves herself more domestic, but finding the correct environment to please her high majesty is sometimes also rather troublous. A gorgeous tapestry, a wonderful Aubusson carpet demand fit companionship, and when we descend to the more ordinary settings for our lives we are still likely to find conflicts and disagreements. Yet it is a great game - this search for beauty - and it is well worth while.

In previous sections it was noted that great care must be exercised to avoid conflicting patterns in the textiles used. In order that the reader should readily apprehend the cause of this conflict in design (beyond that in scale and movement) he should know of the three classes into which design naturally falls.

Naturalistic Ornament

One of them is that in which nature is copied as closely as may be, and the instance most usually cited is that of a carpet covered with roses. It seems nearly as brutal to walk upon these flowers, pictured so closely after nature, as to tread upon actual blooms - so we may easily appreciate the theoretical inappropriateness of naturalistic ornament. But note the use of the word "theoretical". It so happens that the beautiful Aubusson carpets previously mentioned contain in portions of their design flowers almost as naturalistic as those first referred to, and yet the inappropriateness is not nearly so marked. And why is it less unseemly to sit in the lap of an empress of China, embroidered upon a chair-covering, than to tread upon mere flowers? It all appears at first glance very confusing; but there is a reason for all things.

In the first place the rose-bedecked carpet is usually vulgar; its hues are florid, and it is of cheap quality and shows its class. More vulgar yet are the mats containing lifelike portraits of huge dogs. In the French carpets, on the contrary, and in the beautiful silk and velvet textile shown in Plate 13, the naturalism is infused with art: the colours are in soft tones beautifully blended, the workmanship is exquisite. To anyone familiar with Chinese art the use of human figures and numberless natural objects upon fabrics needs no apology.

Do we not, therefore, come out of our dilemma at about this point? - that it is not always so much what is done as how it is done! The truth is that mankind has always loved Nature and has continually gone to her for his inspiration. As we shall soon see he has done better when he has infused a greater part of his own individuality into his product and has used her as inspiration rather than followed her literally; but just now we are still concerned with naturalistic design.

In the embroideries of Renaissance days, used as coverings, we continually find the figures of saints and potentates, cavaliers and ladies; the periods of Louis XV and Louis XVI, so full of beauty, are noted for their great use of naturalistic ornament of all kinds; oriental design is full of pagodas, bridges, birds, bats, butterflies, peacocks, and the like. What shall we say? That all this is wrong, inappropriate; that it is not art? It seems to the present writer that we should be a trifle cautious in "pontificating" on such matters. Mankind loves interest and, like nature herself, "abhors a vacuum". Pattern should not be overdone, and there should not be too much of it; but pattern we will have! Where naturalistic ornament is treated with art we may pretty safely say that it is not bad art: but the amateur is not advised to embroider all sorts of objects from nature upon sofa-pillows - the art might perchance be lacking.

Let us go one step further. Why are the old samplers, with houses, trees, figures and lettering, frequently so pleasing? Because they are primitive, naϊf, and (shall I borrow a word from the women writers on household art?) "so quaint"; and because they are worked with the cross-stitch. Now here, at last, we have reached one main explanation of so much naturalistic art not being bad art - for the reason that the materials and methods employed impose a certain degree of conventionalisation: weaving and embroidery do take the design a certain distance from absolute naturalism, and when these processes are artistically handled the result is satisfactory.

But, beyond this conventionalisation imposed by processes, so-called naturalistic ornament is seldom entirely that, seldom a direct transcript from nature: almost always is there some arrangement on the part of the designer - as in the textile referred to. And this brings us to the second division of the subject.

Conventional Ornament

Man, in his eternal search for beauty, has not always been content to copy; he is a restless animal, always working for improvement - whether or not he quite accomplishes it - with the itch for creation always in his brain and his fingertips. He is not satisfied unless he can put something of himself into the labours of his heart and head and hands. So he has taken Nature as his inspiration, his source, his motif - call it what you will - and has moulded her works to his own ends. He has often travelled very far afield and, strange as it may seem to some who have not gone deeply into art, frequently these productions are his best.

In pictorial art, which many mistakenly suppose should be as direct a copying of nature as is possible, there are numerous conventions; and even so called naturalistic painting is Nature seen through the artist's temperament, or it is worthless: whereas the modern school often relegates her to an entirely subordinate place. Leaving such debated matters quite out of the present question, certain it is that the best decorative art is decoration, and not nature literally copied.

The artist then takes some form - say a vine, with leaves and flowers. The stem describes many curves; but these curves may not be graceful in their proportions or in their relations to others; or, in their "movement" they may not proceed in the direction he prefers. He arranges them on his drawing or his loom to suit his purpose. So with the leaves and flowers: he is not copying Nature, he is not pretending to, he is using her as an inspiration, and he does her no violence by his action. The shape of the leaves, or of some of them, may not please him, may not be just as he wishes for his purpose; they are of many hues and some are in strong light, others in shadow. He wishes to confine himself to but a few tones and - now we see that he knows what he is about - keep his design flat, so that it will lie back in its place - on a chair-back, perhaps, for which it may be intended. So with the flowers: when he has done with them they possibly have little resemblance to those before him. He has, briefly, made a design, a decoration; not a photographically accurate representation.

Consider the joy of the man who made the first design, who had done something new under the sun, who had put his own skill, had put himself into his work! Such is the pleasure of every man who makes a new decoration and sees that it is good! Is it wonderful that the art into which he has put his own soul is better as decoration than a literal transcription of the object that was not primarily created for that use? was not created, to put it boldly, to be literally transferred to a chair-back?

It would seem as if almost every object under heaven had been seized upon by man as his own property and to use for his own ends. Why not? Were they not given to man by their Creator?

Abstract Ornament

But he has done still more: he has gone so far from nature that, while his design suggests nature, it is difficult to say precisely what natural object, if any, he had in mind; and he has also created outright. The "pear" design in oriental rugs is also called by the names of several other objects, because it is doubtful which was its inspiration: likewise the "fish" motif in Feraghan and other weaves. And he has created decorations often linear in character and of numerous forms frequently taking a geometric character (See the sofa-cushions in Frontispiece).

We now understand that it is not always so easy a matter as separating bad from good design, for there are kinds of goodness; - either bad or good may exist in three characters; and often indeed there is a blending, or a composition containing two or all three of these. The invention of man knows no end; and the more he does the more he can do. There may be a medallion - a form created by man - accompanied by other designs, some more conventionalised than others. And, though this sounds unpromising, the result may after all not be bad - if it is an artist who is arranging the design. Plate 13, second illustration, shows a combination of motifs.

But generally the character of ornament in a textile is well marked, and we can readily see that a strictly geometrical decoration does not properly in immediate juxtaposition accompany one with flowing, graceful lines - there is no likeness, no congruity in the motifs employed. Common-sense also shows us that the agreement or disagreement of designs of naturalistic and conventionalised natures depends upon the degree of either quality. If each is strongly marked in its own direction, if - to reintroduce the human element - their dispositions are too different, we should not be surprised if that difference resulted in the usual family jar!

As those whose temperaments are antagonistic have no opportunity to disagree if they remain widely apart, so abundant space between two designs of different character is often sufficient to keep the peace.

Considering the bewildering variety of design contrived by man, it will be seen then that after all we have but few qualities to bear in mind in debating the friendliness of one toward another - scale, character, movement, separation, and intensity.

In the securing of beautiful surroundings, textiles play a most important part, perhaps the most striking of any. The householder should fully realise the necessity of employing attractive and appropriate fabrics upon his furniture: by these, the house is transformed from a bare and dreary series of rooms to a home abounding in comfort and delight. Our modern methods of manufacture enable us to revel in charming fabrics reproduced from notable designs of the past and present.

In all this wealth of decorative material, colour is a prolific source of interest, but second only to that quality is the loveliness of design. To suit the multitude of conditions to be met in modern furnishing, decorative textiles for furniture, walls, and floors are produced in a choice of colour schemes for each pattern. So, if suitable patterns are found for the textiles in a room each pattern may generally be had in an appropriate colour harmony to suit any scheme.