FIG. 2.
I beg to be allowed to postpone the nearer definition of the forms that occur in the three groups, which, however, on a closer examination all present a good deal that they have in common. Taking them in a general way, they all show a leaf-form inclosing an inflorescence in the form of an ear or thistle; or at other times a fruit or a fruit-form. In the same way with the stucco ornaments and the wall-paper pattern.
The Cashmere pattern also essentially consists of a leaf with its apex laterally expanded; it closes an ear-shaped flower-stem, set with small florets, which in exceptional cases protrude beyond the outline of the leaf; the whole is treated rigorously as an absolute flat ornament, and hence its recognition is rendered somewhat more difficult. The blank expansion of the leaf is not quite unrelieved by ornament, but is set off with small points, spots, and blossoms. This will be thought less strange if we reflect on the Eastern representations of animals, in the portrayal of which the flat expanses produced by the muscle-layers are often treated from a purely decorative point of view, which strikes us as an exaggeration of convention.
FIG. 3.
One cannot go wrong in taking for granted that plant-forms were the archetypes of all these patterns. Now we know that it holds good, as a general principle in the history of civilization, that the tiller of the ground supplants the shepherd, as the shepherd supplants the hunter; and the like holds also in the history of the branch of art we are discussing—representations of animals are the first to make their appearance, and they are at this period remarkable for a wonderful sharpness of characterization. At a later stage man first begins to exhibit a preference for plant-forms as subjects for representation, and above all for such as can in any way be useful or hurtful to him. We, however, meet such plant-forms used in ornament in the oldest extant monuments of art in Egypt, side by side with representations of animals; but the previous history of this very developed culture is unknown. In such cases as afford us an opportunity of studying more primitive though not equally ancient stages of culture, as for instance among the Greeks, we find the above dictum confirmed, at any rate in cases where we have to deal with the representation of the indigenous flora as contradistinguished from such representations of plants as were imported from foreign civilizations. In the case that is now to occupy us, we have not to go back so very far in the history of the world.
FIG. 4.
The ornamental representations of plants are of two kinds. Where we have to deal with a simple pictorial reproduction of plants as symbols (laurel branches, boughs of olive and fir, and branches of ivy), i. e., with a mere characteristic decoration of a technical structure, stress is laid upon the most faithful reproduction of the object possible—the artist is again and again referred to the study of Nature in order to imitate her. Hence, as a general rule, there is less difficulty in the explanation of these forms, because even the minute details of the natural object now and then offer points that one can fasten upon. It is quite another thing when we have to deal with actual decoration which does not aim at anything further than at employing the structural laws of organisms in order to organize the unwieldy substance, to endow the stone with a higher vitality. These latter forms depart, even at the time when they originate, very considerably from the natural objects. The successors of the originators soon still further modify them by adapting them to particular purposes, combining and fusing them with other forms so as to produce particular individual forms which have each their own history (e.g., the acanthus ornament, which, in its developed form, differs very greatly from the acanthus plant itself); and in a wider sense we may here enumerate all such forms as have been raised by art to the dignity of perfectly viable beings, e.g., griffins, sphinxes, dragons, and angels.