The fact is, you can only make out all the world to be designers by reducing design to what all the world can do. And that is not much.

There is a point of view from which it does not amount to design at all.

The study of design forms part of the education of an embroidress, not so much that she may design what she works, but that she may know in the first place what good design is, and, in the second, be equal to the ever-recurring occasion when a design has to be modified or adapted. If, in thus manipulating design not hers, she should discover a faculty of invention, she will want no telling to exercise it. A designer wants no encouragement to design--she designs.

There would be no occasion to insist upon this, were it not for the prevalence at the present moment of the idea that a worker, in whatever art or handicraft, is in artistic duty bound to design whatever she puts hand to do. That is a theory as false as it is unkind; let no embroidress be discouraged by it. Let her, unless she is inwardly impelled to invent, remain content to do good needlework. That is her art. Her business as an artist is to make beautiful things. Co-operation in the making of them is no crime.

And what, then, about originality? Originality is a gift beyond price.

But it is not a thing which even the designer should struggle after. It comes, if it is there. There is a revengeful consolation for the pain we suffer from design about us writhing to be up-to-date, in the thought that its contortions tell what pain it cost to do. The birth of beauty is a less agonising travail; and the thing to seek is beauty, not novelty. Whoever planned the lines of the border in Ill.u.s.tration 91, or treated the leaf.a.ge in Ill.u.s.tration 92, was not trying to be original, but determined to do his best. Artists and workers of individuality and character are themselves, without being so much as aware that originality has gone out of them.

[Ill.u.s.tration: 91. RENAISSANCE ORNAMENT.]

To a.s.sume, then, that every needlewoman is, or can ever be, competent to design what she embroiders, is to make very small account of design. How is it possible to take design seriously and yet think it is to be mastered without years of patient study, which few workwomen can or will devote to it? Any cultivated woman may for herself invent (if it is to be called invention) something better worth working than is to be bought ready to work. And that may do for many purposes, so long as it does not claim to be more than it is; but in the case of really important work, to be executed at considerable cost not only of material, but of patient labour, surely it is worth giving serious thought to its design. The scant consideration commonly given to it shows how little the worker is in earnest. Or has she thought? And is she persuaded that her artless spray of flowers, or the ironed-off pattern she has bought, is all that art could be? It would be rude to tell her she was wasting silk! How should she know?

The only way of knowing is to study, to look at good work, old work by preference; it is worth no one's while to praise that unduly. And if in all that is now so readily accessible she finds nothing to admire, nothing which appeals to her, nothing which inspires her, then her case is hopeless. If, on the other hand, she finds only so much as one style of work sympathetic to her, studies that, lets its spirit sink into her, tries to do something worthy of it, then she is on the right road.

Measure yourself with the best, not with the common run of work; and if that should put you out of conceit with your own work, no great harm is done; sooner or later you have got to come to a modest opinion of yourself, if ever you are to do even moderate things.

[Ill.u.s.tration: 92. LEAF TREATMENT IN APPLIQUe.]

But the "best" above referred to does not necessarily mean the most masterly. The best of a simple kind is not calculated to discourage anyone--rather, it looks as if it must be easy to do that; and in trying to do it you learn how much goes to the doing it. Good design need not be of any great importance or pretensions. It may be quite simple, if only it is right; if the lines are true, the colour harmonious; if it is adapted to its place, to its use and purpose, to execution not only with the needle but in the particular kind of needlework to be employed.

There has of late years been something of a revival of needlework design in schools of art, and some very promising and even most accomplished work has been done; but in many instances, as it seems to me, it is rather design which has been translated into needlework, than design clearly made for execution with the needle. A really appropriate and practical design for embroidery should be schemed not merely with a view to its execution with the needle, but with a view to its execution in a particular st.i.tch or st.i.tches--and possibly by a particular embroidress.

To be safe in designing work so minute as that on Ill.u.s.tration 93, one must be sure of the needlewoman who is to execute it.

[Ill.u.s.tration: 93. DELICATE SATIN-St.i.tCH--WORKED BY MISS BUCKLE.]

My reference to old work must not be taken to imply that design should be in imitation of what has been done, or that it should follow on those lines. Design was once upon a time traditional; but the chain of tradition has snapped, and now conscious design must be eclectic--that is to say, one must study old work to see what has been done, and how it has been done, and then do one's own in one's own way. It is at least as foolish to break quite away from what has been done as to tether yourself to it. And in what has been done you will see, not only what is worth doing, but what is not. That, each must judge for herself. For my part, it seems to me the thing best worth doing is ornament. Any way, this much is certain (and you have only to go to a museum to prove it), that there is no need for needleworkers, unless their instinct draws them that way, to take to needle painting, to pictures in silk, or even to flower st.i.tching.

The limitations of embroidery are not so rigidly marked as the boundaries of many another craft. There is little technical difficulty in representing flowers, for example, very naturally--too naturally for any dignified decorative purpose. Embroiderer or embroidery designer will, as a matter of fact, be constantly inspired by flower forms, and silk gives the pure colour of their petals as nearly as may be. But, though the pattern be a veritable flower garden, the embroidress will not forget, to use the happy phrase of William Morris, that she is gardening with silks and gold threads.

Let the needleworker study the work of the needle in preference to that of the brush; let her aim at what stuff and threads will give her, and give more readily than would something else. Let her work according to the needle: take that for her guide, not be misled by what some other tool can do better; do what the needle can do best, and be content with that. That is the way to Art in Needlework, and the surest way.

EMBROIDERY MATERIALS.

Embroidery is not among the things which have to be done, and must be done, therefore, as best one can do them. It is in the nature of a superfluity: the excuse for it is that it is beautiful. It is not worth doing unless it is done well, and in material worth the work done on it.

If you are going to spend the time you must spend to do good work, it is worth while using good stuff, foolish to use anything else. The stuff need not be costly, but it should be the best of its kind; and it should be chosen with reference to the work to be done on it, and _vice versa_.

A mean ground-stuff suggests, if it does not necessitate, its being embroidered all over, ground-work as well as pattern; a worthier one, that it should not be hidden altogether from view; a really beautiful one, that enough of it should be left bare of ornament that its quality may be appreciated.

[Sidenote: STUFFS.]

It goes without saying, that for big, bold st.i.tching a proportionately coa.r.s.e ground-stuff should be used, and for delicate work, one of finer texture; whether it be linen, woollen cloth, or silk, your purpose will determine.

Linen is a worthy ground-stuff, which may be worked on with flax thread, crewel, or silk, but they should not be mixed. Cotton is hardly worth embroidering. Of woollen stuffs, good plain cloth is an excellent ground for work in wool or silk, but it is not pleasant to the touch in working. Serge, if not too loose, may serve for curtains and the like, but it is not so well worth working upon. Felt is beneath contempt.

The n.o.bler the material, the more essential it is that it should be of the best. Poor satin is not "good enough to work on;" it looks poorer than ever when it is embroidered.

Satin should be stretched upon the frame the way of the stuff, and it should not be forgotten that it has a right and a wrong way up. If it is backed, the linen should be fine and smooth: on a coa.r.s.e backing, the satin gets quickly worn away, as you may see in many a piece of old work that has gone ragged.

"Roman satin" and what is called "_satin de luxe_" (perhaps because it is not so luxurious as it pretends to be) are effective ground-stuffs easy to work upon; but there is an odour of pretence about satin-faced cotton.

A corded silk is not good to embroider; the work on it looks hard; but a close twill answers very well. Silk damask makes an admirable ground beautifully broken in colour, if only it is simple and broad enough in pattern. Generally speaking, you can hardly choose a design too big and flat; but something depends upon the work to be done on it. In any case, the pattern of the damask ought not to a.s.sert itself, and if you can't make out its details, so much the better.

Brocade a.s.serts itself too much to form a good background. There is a practice of embroidering the outlines, or certain details only, of damask and brocade patterns. That is a fair way of further enriching a rich stuff; but it is embroidery merely in the sense that it is literally embroidered: the needlework is only supplementary to weaving.

Tussah silk of the finer sort is easy to work in the hand. The thinner and looser quality needs to be worked in a frame, and with smooth silk not tightly twisted.

[Sidenote: THREAD.]

With regard to the thread to work with: The coa.r.s.er kinds of flax are best waxed before using. The crewel to be preferred is that not too tightly twisted. Filoselle is well adapted to couching, and may be laid double (24 threads). French floss is smooth, and does well for laid work; for fine work bobbin floss, or what is called "church floss," is better; the slight twist in filo-floss is against it; very thick floss may be used for French knots.

For couching gold, a very fine twisted silk does well. Purse silk, thick and twisted, lends itself perfectly to basket work. Working in coloured silks, one should take advantage of the quality of pure transparent colour which silk takes in the dyeing. The palette of the embroiderer in silk is superlatively rich.

[Sidenote: GOLD.]

The purest gold is generally made on a foundation of _red_ silk.

j.a.panese gold does not tarnish so readily as "pa.s.sing," which is in some respects superior to it. For st.i.tching through, there is a finer thread, called "tambour." Flat gold wire is known by the name of "plate," and various twisted threads by the name of "purl."

[Sidenote: CHENILLE.]

A not very promising substance to embroider with is chenille. It came into use in the latter half of the 17th century, and was still in fashion in the time of Marie Antoinette. The use of it is shown in Ill.u.s.tration 75, where the darker touches of the roses are worked in it.

Chenille seems to have been used instead of smooth silk, much as in certain old-fashioned water-colour paintings gum was used with the paint, or over it, to deepen the shadows. The material is used again in the wreath on Ill.u.s.tration 76. It is worked there in chain-st.i.tch with the tambour needle: it may also be worked in satin-st.i.tch; but the more obvious way of using it is to couch it, cord by cord, with fine silk thread. There is this against chenille, that its texture is not sympathetic to the touch, and that there is a stuffy look about it always. Nor does it seem ever quite to belong to the smooth satin ground on which it is worked.

[Sidenote: RIBBON.]

[Sidenote: SHADED SILK.]

There is less objection to embroidery in ribbon, which also had its day in the 18th century. It was very much the fashion for court dresses under Louis Seize--"_Broderie de faveur_," as it was called, whence our "lady's favour"--_faveur_ being a narrow ribbon. Some beautiful work of its kind was done in ribbon, sometimes _shaded_. Shaded silk, by the way, may be used to artistic purpose. There is, for example, in the treasury of Seville Cathedral a piece of work on velvet, 13th century, it is said, rather Persian in character, in which the forms of certain nondescript animals are at first sight puzzlingly prismatic in colour.

They turn out to be roughly worked in short st.i.tches of parti-coloured silk thread. The result is not altogether beautiful, but it is extremely suggestive.

[Sidenote: RIBBON.]

The effect of ribbon work is happiest when it is not sewn through the stuff after the manner of satin st.i.tch, but lies on the surface of the satin ground, and is only just caught down at the ends of the loops which go to make leaves and petals. The twist of the ribbon where it turns gives interest to the surface of the embroidery, which is always more or less in relief upon the stuff, easy to crush, and of limited use therefore.

[Ill.u.s.tration: 94. LEATHER APPLIQUe UPON VELVET.]

An effect of ribbon work, but of a harder kind, was produced by onlaying narrow strips of card or parchment upon a silken ground, twisted about after the fashion of ribbon. These, having been st.i.tched in place, were worked over in satin-st.i.tch. The work has the merit of looking just like what it is. But neither it nor ribbon embroidery is of any very serious account.

Pa.s.sing reference has been made to other materials to embroider with than thread. Gold wire, for example, and spangles, coral and pearls, which have been used with admirable discretion, as well as to vulgar purpose. Jewels also were lavished upon the embroidery of bishops'

mitres, gloves and other significant apparel, and in default of real stones, imitations in gla.s.s, and eventually beads (or pearls) of gla.s.s, in which we have possibly the origin of knots. Bead embroidery is at least as old as ancient Egypt. Even atoms of looking-gla.s.s, sewn round with silk, have been used to really beautiful effect (barbaric though it may be) in Indian work. The question almost occurs: with what can one not embroider? In Madras they produce most brilliant embroidery upon muslin with the cases of beetles' wings. In the Mauritius they use fish-scales; in North America, porcupine quills; and everywhere savage tribes use seeds, sh.e.l.ls, feathers, and the teeth and claws of animals.

To return to more civilised work, there is embroidery in gold and silver wire, allied to the art of the goldsmith, and on leather (Ill.u.s.tration 94), allied to the art of the saddler. It would be difficult to set any limit to the directions in which embroidery may branch out, impossible to describe them all. Happily, it is not necessary. A skilled worker adapts herself to new conditions, and the conditions themselves dictate the necessary modification of the familiar way.