There is perhaps but one other ornament that is worthy of the profoundest study, the radiating ornament of the Greeks, known as the Greek honeysuckle. This ornament is full of subtle devices, in the elegant graduation of its forms, in the proportioning of the masses, in its even distribution, and in the making of the different curves enhance the value of one another. There is often, too, a suggestion of horizontality or verticality introduced, that gives the highest value to the composition; all showing the intimate acquaintance with nature that the Greek artists possessed. Many of the Greek running patterns are both original and effective, and in some of them tangential junction is distinctly avoided, to attract attention to the ornament. The Greeks, too, were pre-eminent in knowing the use of restraint and the value of plainness. When the sculptor had carved his ornament on an architectural monument he seemed to say, “Better this if you can!”

The Byzantines understood the value of gradation, and when they wholly ornamented a profile, they made some parts in bold, some in low relief, and engraved or sunk other parts. The Saracens learned this art from them, and so improved on it, that the general effect of their best work resembles Greek art; at the proper distance the subordinate ornament looks like a mere difference of texture.

Saracenic ornament affords the only instances of complete floral decoration without the figures of man or animals; and although it is inclined to be monotonous, and geometrical forms are too predominant, it is, when coloured and gilt, saved from monotony by the magical change of the patterns on the beholder shifting his position. This effect is obtained by trifling differences of level in the planes of the ornament and by gilding. Its floral forms, however, are usually coarse and poor, and have no refined graces.

There are a few points not touched on in the book which it may be well to mention. One is a device that was, I think, only used by the Byzantines, i. e. bossing out ornament to catch the light. Constantine the Great, when he had the Church of the Holy Sepulchre at Jerusalem built, had the capitals of the sanctuary columns made of silver, and doubtless the silversmiths in working them hammered out some bosses to catch the light. This device was seized on by the sculptors of Sta. Sophia at Constantinople, and used in the marble capitals of its columns and pilasters (Figs. [A] and [B]).

I may also draw attention to another Byzantine device, which charmed Mr. Ruskin at St. Mark’s—the leaves of capitals caught by the wind and blown aside. Capitals with a similar device existed in Sta. Sophia at Salonica, some of which were partly calcined by the late fire. The propriety of using such an incident in the conventional stone ornaments of a supporting member may be doubted, still we must admire the observation and genius of the sculptor; and there are many opportunities of using such an incident when the ornament is not on a supporting member. I point it out to show what fresh resources for the ornamentalist are to be found in nature, when he has the industry to observe and the talent to create.

There are cases where architectural features have to be reduced, and at the same time to be emphasized too. No better example of this is to be found than in the Caryatid temple attached to the Erechtheum. Its entablature was below the main one, and so had to be smaller, and yet was wanted to be important

Figs. A and B.—Byzantine Capitals from Sta. Sophia at Constantinople, showing the bossing out of the ornament.