I will conclude this chapter with two quotations. The first is part of Sir Digby Wyatt’s advice in a Cambridge Lecture. “You can never hope (he says) to have the means of supplying yourself with what is beautiful unless you take pains to add to the production of that beauty. The colour which the decorative painter” (and the embroiderer also) “may cast around you is neither more nor less than an atmosphere in which your eye will be either strengthened or debilitated. If you accustom your eye only or mainly to contemplate what is satisfactory in colour and form to the highest tastes, it will gradually become allured to such delicacy of organization as to reject unintentionally all that is repugnant to perfect taste.”
Mr. Morris, in a lecture to the “Birmingham Society of Arts and School of Design,” says of ugly furnishings: “Herein the rich people have defrauded themselves as well as the poor. You will see a refined and highly educated man nowadays, who has been to Italy and Egypt and where not, who can talk learnedly enough (and fantastically enough sometimes) about art and literature of past days, sitting down without signs of discomfort in a house that, with all its surroundings, is just brutally vulgar and hideous. All his education has done for him no more than that.”
“You cannot civilize man unless you give him a share in art.” But the man must be civilized by education to accept that share of art that his life offers to him. It must be admitted that though a man may be educated enough to enable him to theorize, he may yet be too poor to furnish with taste. If he is able to act up to his theories, and to surround himself with what is refined, and fail to do so, and is contented not to stir in this matter, he is not truly educated.
“Now that which breeds art is art. Any piece of work that is well done is so much help to the cause.” “The cause is the Democracy of Art, the ennobling of daily and common work.”
FOOTNOTES:
[461] Odyssey, xxiii., l. 190.
[462] Layard’s “Monuments,” 1st series, pl. 77; see “Histoire de l’Art,” ii., Perrot and Chipiez.
[463] A bed may be absolutely without any hangings or tester, and yet carry embroidery, as in the curious funeral couch of a sepulchral monument in painted terra-cotta in the Campana Museum of the Louvre. Here the mattress is worked to resemble ticking, striped, and the cushions have embroidered ends; and are made in the form of bolsters. There is a similar sepulchral monument in the British Museum. Both of them were found at Cervetri, and are quaint examples of early Etruscan art. See Dennis’ “Etruria,” 2nd ed., p. 227.
[464] The thread embroideries in counted stitches were worked in an endless variety of beautiful designs, of which the collection in Franz and Frida Lipperheide’s “Musterbücher für Weibliche Handarbeit” is most interesting and exhaustive; including Italian and German “Lienenstickerei,” Berlin, 1883.
[465] Of the seventeenth century.