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                       ART-STUDIES FROM NATURE,

                         As applied to Design:

                           _FOR THE USE OF_

               ARCHITECTS, DESIGNERS, AND MANUFACTURERS.


                      COMPRISED IN FOUR PAPERS BY

                     F. E. HULME, F.L.S., F.S.A.;

                         J. GLAISHER, F.R.S.;

                     S. J. MACKIE, F.G.S., F.S.A.;

                          ROBERT HUNT, F.R.S.


               REPRINTED FROM THE ART-JOURNAL.


                _WITH NUMEROUS ILLUSTRATIONS ON WOOD._


                                LONDON:
             VIRTUE & CO., 26, IVY LANE, PATERNOSTER ROW.
                                 1872.


                                LONDON:
                      PRINTED BY VIRTUE AND CO.,
                              CITY ROAD.




PREFACE.


Nature may be studied in many aspects; her wealth of service and beauty
is freely open to all who seek; and while the man of science, by patient
study and assiduous toil, may learn something of her mystery, and gather
from her not unwilling hands rich treasure of knowledge for the benefit
of humanity (for without the midnight watch and the elaborate
calculation of the astronomer navigation would yet be in its infancy;
without the enthusiasm of the botanist as he toils in the tropic forest
the virtues of many a healing plant would be unknown; without the keen
perception of the geologist the miner’s task would be in vain), so the
man of art in no less degree may find in her study richest elements of
beauty, loveliest suggestions of colour, forms of infinite grace. A
delight in the study of Nature, a desire to realise something of its
grandeur, is a source of unbounded pleasure to its possessor, for to him
no walk can be a weariness, no season of the year dreary, no soil so
sterile as to be barren of interest:--

    “The meanest flow’ret of the vale,
     The simplest note that swells the gale,
     The common sun, the air, the skies,
     To him are opening Paradise.”

The lichen on the rock, the wayside grass, the many-coloured fungi, are
no less full of beauty than the forms that more ordinarily attract
attention, and are no less worthy of study. “The works of the Lord are
great, sought out of all them that have pleasure therein;” and Nature
has ever to the devout mind, from its own inherent beauty and its
testimony to Him its creator and sustainer, been a study of the deepest
interest. Some who glance over these opening remarks before entering
upon the search for such material in the body of the book as may seem
available for their immediate purpose, may consider that this view of
the subject is unpractical; but we would remind such that all art,
pictorial, sculptural, decorative, or what not, is only noble and worthy
of the name so far as it affords food for thought in the spectator, and
testifies to thought in the artist, and that the nobility of the work is
in direct proportion to such evidence of inner life. Art that is
æsthetic and sensuous, though pleasing to the eye, must ever in the
nature of things hold a subordinate place to that art which is symbolic,
to those forms in which an inner meaning may be traced; and though one
work of art may perhaps necessarily contain less of this reflected
thought than another, yet this proposition we think will hold good, that
no work of art that does not in some way testify to this can be
altogether satisfactory, for while pleasing for a time to the eye, it
yet leaves the mind unsatisfied: the reverse will equally hold good, and
we may safely repeat that in proportion to the thought bestowed and
expressed by the artist will be the enjoyment and profit to be derived
by others from it. The true artist will not consider with how small
expenditure of trouble he may attain his end; he will, on the contrary,
have a heart full of sympathy with all that is beautiful. This will
become a wealth of knowledge, will prove a precious possession to
himself, and the result must be visible in his work, and stamp it with
Promethean fire. To the artist then who is worthy of the name, nothing
can be too petty for regard, nothing that the Creator has pronounced
“very good” too insignificant for notice; for in Nature beauty is
scattered with a lavish hand, and the fungus that passes through all the
stages of its existence during a summer’s night, and the snow-flake
still more transient in its duration--

    “Frail, but a work divine:
     Made so fairily well,
     So exquisitely minute,
     A miracle of design”--

have a charm of their own no less than the higher forms, while to give
but one other example from the many that present themselves, the
_Foraminifera_--animal remains met with in chalk cliffs--though only
visible with high microscopic power, have the curves of their shells as
graceful, designs as varied, markings as intricate, as perhaps any other
natural objects whatsoever. We therefore appreciate the quaint fancy,
the studied thought of the designer who in some old glass that we have
noticed at Ockham Church, in Surrey, while making some of his quarry
designs of columbine, rose, and other lovely forms, chose for one of
them a little fungus surrounded by cup moss, and springing from the
turf; frail creatures of a day, meet emblems--like the withering grass,
the fading flower--of the short estate of man, the transience of all
his glory.

In the endeavour to suggest something of these humbler types of beauty
to the artist, the designer, the architect, and the manufacturer, the
following papers have been collected from the pages of the
_Art-Journal_, the periodical in which they originally appeared, and
after careful revision by their several writers, have been published in
this detached form, in order that they may be still more commonly
accessible.

The first article is an endeavour on the part of the author to indicate
something of the profusion of beautiful form that may be met with in our
hedges and skirting our roadsides, to point out the source from whence
the mediæval artists gathered their inspiration, and to plead for its
greater use by their successors, that by a like loving appreciation we
too may create like forms of beauty.

The second essay deals with marine forms of vegetable life, and dwells
on the immense variety of form that may be met with in the sea-weeds
that surround our shores, and the applicability of many of the species
to the varied purposes of the designer. It is curious that these
wonderful forms should not have been employed more largely in the
decorative work of any people. With the exception of the singularly
waved and bossed foliage seen in the stone carving and metal-work of the
later years of the Decorated period of Gothic, and which may possibly
have been originally suggested by the _Fucus vesiculosus_, one of our
commonest shore weeds, we know of no instance of their introduction into
ornamental art. Hence here at once a wide field is open to the
designer, and this essay cannot fail to be full of valuable material.

As the first and second articles have striven to illustrate the
beautiful forms that inhabit the land and the sea respectively, so the
third article, leaving

    “The deep’s untrampled floor
     With green and purple sea-weeds strewn,”

and the more familiar forms of earth, deals with those delicate forms of
the air, the flakes of falling snow, and points out the immense variety
of graceful forms afforded by their crystals.

Symmetry and geometry are both so commonly met with in ornamental art,
and are also so conspicuously present in the forms of snow crystals,
that the application of those forms to design cannot fail to follow when
once their beauties are brought under the notice of the designer and
manufacturer.

Symmetry shows itself in a general beauty of proportion, and balance of
masses in a composition; or, in the more limited sense in which we now
use the word, in the likeness of one half or part to another in the unit
of design. We speak of a design being bi-symmetrical or tri-symmetrical,
or if it goes beyond this, as in snow crystals and in many other cases
where the ornament may be bounded by a circle, it is termed
multi-symmetrical. Bi-symmetrical arrangements will be found most
appropriate for the decoration of upright surfaces, as wall-papers or
curtains, which will always be seen one way, while multi-symmetrical
star-like forms are more suitable for floor-cloth or carpet patterns,
because a star-like pattern on the floor looks equally well from all
parts of the room; while a design having its halves merely alike can
only be viewed to advantage from one point. It is curious to observe
that in Nature the rule seems to be that the lower forms shall be
multi-symmetrical, made up of several similar parts, while the higher
forms of life are bi-symmetrical: thus in the first class we get snow
crystals, sea-anemones, star-fishes; and in the second, the more
advanced forms of animal life--insects, birds, quadrupeds, and man
himself. There are numerous exceptions, however, to this: thus we have
flowers multi-symmetrical, and their leaves only alike in their halves,
though undoubtedly the flower, in view of its functions in vegetable
physiology, and also from the ornamentist’s stand-point, cannot be
considered lower in the scale of creation than the leaf. The charm
produced by the mere repetition of parts may be well seen in the
kaleidoscope, where a series of irregular pieces of glass develop into
various ornamental forms, owing to their symmetrical arrangement and
radiation from one centre--an effect still more clearly and beautifully
seen in the crystals of snow, where the unit is itself of pleasing form.

The influence of geometry upon design has in almost all periods of art
been very marked--in some styles, as the Early English Gothic, and the
Italian of the thirteenth century, much more so than in others; but in
no style is it altogether ignored. Whether we study the examples of
decorative art produced in our midst, the result of modern skill; or
turn to the remains of Egyptian and Assyrian ornament, the brain-work
and handiwork of men who toiled thousands of years ago, or whether we
contrast the delicacy of much of our English work with the rude carving
or pottery of the South Sea Islander, we still cannot fail to notice
that amidst much that is very marked and distinctive in comparing one
period with another, or the handiwork of one race or nation with
another, this one great principle of the adaptation of geometry to
ornament is exhibited more or less prominently in all. Where a sense of
flatness is desirable, as in designs for floor-coverings--as mosaic,
tile-work, carpeting, &c.--the use of geometrical forms appears
especially appropriate, since the feeling of flatness is easily
obtainable, and yet, accompanying this essential feature, almost any
degree of complexity and richness of effect. These remarks upon the use
of geometry must, however, be considered to apply more especially to the
simpler kinds of design, to those intended to fill but a subordinate
place. As we rise higher, geometry, though still valuable in the setting
out and defining of leading lines and masses, gives place to higher
forms, those based on animal or vegetable life. In a fourteenth-century
diaper the part we admire is not the geometric basis of the design, but
the delicate filling in of oak or maple, buttercup or ivy, though we
unconsciously admire this the more on account of the enclosing straight
lines--lines that we should at once miss if they were removed as
superfluous.

The fourth essay of our series deals with the suggestive ornamental
forms so freely met with in organic remains. As in the previous essay we
found in the clouds above forms of beauty well adapted for our needs as
ornamentists, so in this one we delve beneath the surface of our earth,
and again have the lesson impressed upon us, that in every situation
forms of beauty abound, that the world is full of suggestive material
for the student of ornamental art, and that in what at first sight
appears a barren and profitless waste, fresh proof is given of the
universal reign of law, order, and beauty throughout the whole range of
creation. These four essays, then, should prove a welcome addition to
the ornamentist’s store of material, since (though no book-work can take
the place of actual observation) they may at least suggest to him other
forms, and cause him to turn his attention in fresh directions. With
this hope, then, we conclude, trusting that our efforts thus to
illustrate in some degree the wealth of Nature may not have been
altogether in vain.

F. E. H.




CONTENTS.


I.                                                                  PAGE

THE ADAPTABILITY OF OUR NATIVE PLANTS TO THE
PURPOSES OF ORNAMENTAL ART. By F. EDWARD
HULME, F.L.S., F.S.A.                                                  1

II.

SEA-WEEDS AS OBJECTS OF DESIGN. By S. J. MACKIE,
F.G.S., F.S.A.                                                        91

III.

THE CRYSTALS OF SNOW AS APPLIED TO THE PURPOSES
OF DESIGN. By JAMES GLAISHER, F.R.S.                                 133

IV.

THE SYMMETRICAL AND ORNAMENTAL FORMS OF ORGANIC
REMAINS. By ROBERT HUNT, F.R.S.                                      177




I.

THE ADAPTABILITY OF OUR NATIVE PLANTS TO THE PURPOSES OF ORNAMENTAL ART.

BY EDWARD HULME, F.L.S., F.S.A.


In this series of papers it will be our desire to direct the attention
of the architect, manufacturer, and designer, to some of the beautiful
forms of nature, which, though easily accessible, seem to have scarcely
received the consideration they deserve; to give a brief account of the
habits, peculiarities, and localities of the plants as they come before
us; to cite from time to time examples, either English or foreign, of
their use in the ornament of the past; and generally to add such details
as may directly or indirectly tend to create an interest in the plant in
question. We find, on looking back at the past history and practice of
ornamental art, in the midst of many marked differences of style, one
principle very generally observed--the use in the ornament of any given
country of the plants familiar to the people. Hence, the Egyptians
exclusively used in their ornament the plants of their own land; we see
the palm branch, the papyrus, and the beautiful lily of the Nile
constantly recurring. We find the Greeks and Romans employing the
acanthus, olive, and vine; the Japanese, the light and graceful bamboo;
and in our own Gothic styles and those of the Continent--French, German,
or Spanish--we meet with more or less conventionalised representations
in the carvings, paintings, illuminations, fabrics for dress, hangings,
&c., of the familiar forms of our hedgerows, streams, and meadows, such
as the wild rose, oak, maple, iris, buttercup, and many others. It is
then with the desire to awaken our decorators to the fact, that
beautiful as the Greek _anthemion_ and other allied forms are, they by
no means represent the limit available in ornamental art, that the
following papers have been prepared, since we are persuaded that if once
the inexhaustible riches of nature were sought after by our architects,
and their beauties brought before the eyes of the people in their work,
architecture would thus be taking one long step nearer to the sympathies
and appreciation of many to whom it is now a matter of indifference. The
works of a few of our leading architects owe at least some of their
beauty to their recognition of this truth; and we would desire, while
acknowledging the services rendered to architecture by such men as
Pugin, Collings, Street, and Gilbert Scott, to add our mite to the
revival going on around us.

Botany, or the study of plants (Gr. _botane_, a plant), is capable of
many subdivisions: thus we have one department which, from its dealing
with the vital functions of the plant, we term physiology (Gr. _physis_,
nature--_logos_, science); another which, from its more especially
dealing with the organization and structure of the plant, is called
organography, or structural botany; while a third great division,
systematic botany, derives its name from its teaching how the
multifarious forms of vegetable life may yet be classified into genera,
and these again into orders and species from certain points of
resemblance in the plants thus classed together. Botany, in itself a
science in the ordinary use of the term, may, however, render valuable
service to art; and it is this phase of the subject which we more
especially propose to develop, treating only of the more exclusively
scientific points so far as we find them necessary for our present
purpose; and in this we think we are fully justified, for though numbers
of excellent works are accessible to the student who desires to study
botany as a science, but few fully recognise its importance in a
modified form to the art-student, and more especially to the designer.
To the ornamentist a knowledge of the laws of plant growth is of really
the same importance as the study of anatomy to the figure-painter or
sculptor, and the absence of this knowledge is to the initiated, in
either case, as readily detected. Many who are now content to forego
this precise knowledge are no doubt partly debarred by the
technicalities which meet them at every sentence in ordinary botanical
works. Bearing in mind, therefore, the special requirements of our
readers, we shall endeavour to avoid as far as possible the use of terms
which, though scientifically valuable, and in fact essential to correct
and true description, are not such as we may reasonably assume our
readers, without special botanical study, to be familiar with. A
knowledge of these terms is, however, very desirable, since their
conciseness renders them valuable, and more especially, also, because
many excellent works, which it will be of advantage to