Chapter XVIII: Conclusion

On bringing this little book to an end the author feels sadly aware of its many deficiencies. Time does not allow for either very strict revision or much elaboration of the papers which formed the foundation of it.

There are many points of interest connected with the subject of Church needlework which have been purposely touched upon as briefly as possible, that the student may not be obliged to wade through a quantity of extraneous matter in order to find the practical information required.

There are others omitted for want of time and space (such, for instance, as illustration and explanation of the various symbols, &c., used in Church embroidery from the earliest times to the present day: special characteristics of different styles, periods, and countries, &c. &c.)

But there is one point I find I have not mentioned in its proper place (Chapter VII), which I am unwilling to pass over altogether because it involves a matter of principle. It is concerning the practice of _painting_ the faces instead of working them in figure-embroidery.

It seems to me no more legitimate than it would be actually to embroider the robes of a painted portrait!

If figure-embroidery is beyond the ability of any individual worker, let her get someone else to do the faces while she contents herself with the robes and background, or apply her powers to other work. There is plenty of beautiful embroidery to be done without employing figure-work at all.

I have seen faces painted into embroidery so exactly simulating needlework that it is almost impossible to tell the difference. This obviates the objectionable clashing of the two distinct arts as far as _appearance_ goes; but it seems to me morally worse, inasmuch as it is an intentional deception. One branch of art does not need to imitate another. Each should seek perfection in its own special way, and sincerity is one great essential in all.

This brings me to my parting word. Be true and your work will be beautiful. Let everything that is done for the Church be done for the Glory of God, and there will be no trickery possible, no attempt to make anything appear better than it is. The simplest work done in honest materials is more essentially lovely than the most elaborate of ‘shoddy.’

‘Whatsoever things are true,
Whatsoever things are honest,
Whatsoever things are pure,
Whatsoever things are lovely,
Whatsoever things are of good report,
If there be any virtue and if there be any praise think on these things.’

FOOTNOTES

[1] It is a mistake to be over-timid in attacking floss-silk. It requires a light but firm hand, and should be pulled fairly tight to get it to lie smoothly—a sort of little secondary jerk after drawing the needle through to the back.

[2] _Line and Form_, by Walter Crane, i. 1.

[3] This is the smallest quantity that can be made satisfactorily, twice this quantity is easier to manage. A moderately heaped tablespoonful is about equal to 1 oz., and a _small_ teaspoonful to 2 dr. Ordinary water _filtered_ instead of distilled will do if it is soft.

[4] This method, called _a’or nué_, the Florentines seem to have got from Flanders, where it had long been in use.

[5] Vasari says: ‘The figures are no less admirably executed with the needle than drawn by Pollaiuolo with the pencil, and thus we are largely indebted to one master for his design, and to the other for his patience.’

[6] _Art in Needlework_, p. 130.

[7] To the present day our sovereigns offer upon the altar at their coronation a ‘Pall of Silk’ in accordance with old custom.

[8] The name _orarium_ to denote a stole is still used in the Eastern Church for the deacon’s stole (ὠράριον), although it has passed out of use in the Western church altogether, I believe.

[9] There is a beautiful coloured reproduction of it in the ‘Art Worker’s Quarterly,’ January 1906.

[10] ‘In the famous triptych of the Seven Sacraments, by Van der Weyde, now in the Antwerp Museum, the central compartment shows a missal upon the altar at Mass with a _sudariolum_ hanging from it. It would seem by no means impossible that the string to which this napkin was attached was used as a book-marker. The Bishop’s maniple still serves the same purpose in the book of the Gospels at the beginning of Mass.’—Rev. H. Thurston, S.J., ‘Vestments of Low Mass,’ ‘The Month,’ October 1898.

[11] Appendix C.

[12] Howsel—Husel = Saxon name for the Eucharist.

[13] ‘White shining vestment of fine linen common to all clergy.’—Council of Narbonne A.D. 580.

[14] At Sarum in 1222 there were nine girdles of silk and twelve others mentioned in the Inventory. There was one of gold tissue found upon the body of St. Cuthbert at Durham.

[15] Hence the derivation, to which some writers refer as evidence of its being at one time an under garment, points exactly the other way, the pellice being a long lambskin dress worn by the English clergy from very early times. See Matthew Paris, _Vit. Abb._, p. 53.

[16] Perhaps the red and blue cassocks sometimes to be seen nowadays may justify their existence by the example of these coloured albes frequently mentioned in old documents and depicted in illuminated MSS.

APPENDICES