perceive that the laws of composition for textiles
quoted from M. Blanc, apply perfectly to designs on the flat, and to
outlined sketches in black and white, as well as to the most
elaborate compositions for pictures, either historical or "genre."
They are rules which should be understood and employed by the man who
draws for a wall-paper or an area railing; and certainly by him who
makes patterns for our schools of design.

It may therefore be laid down as a general rule, that all designs for
embroidery should be considered first as outlined drawings, covering a
flat surface, and then filled in with colour. The outlines should as
little as possible overlap one another, as flatness is one of the
first objects to be remembered; and this, of course, will be disturbed
by the parts passing over or under each other. Indian designs in
flowers have invariably a wonderful flatness, in the absence of all
light and shadow; joined to a naturalistic suggestion of detail, which
is accounted for by their traditional mode of copying from nature. The
branch or blossom to be copied, is laid on the ground and pegged down
with care, to eliminate every variety of surface, and every branch and
twig so arranged that they may not cross or touch each other. This
conventional composition is then drawn, and every natural distinction
in the form carefully copied. I would suggest that this idea should be
accepted as useful for imitation among ourselves in certain
conventional compositions of vegetable forms. Perhaps it is our Aryan
ancestry that has given us a prevailing taste for such decorations;
and it is worth while to consider how best to manipulate them.[89]

Clinging as we do to these floral designs, we can see that they are
the only ones that bear repetition, whether covering the surface of
the material in the rich irregularity of the flowers in a field, or
conventionalized into a form or a pattern.

The eye is never shocked or fatigued by such repetitions in orderly
confusion, or trained by the hand into artistic shapes or meanderings
of tracery. But when embroidery or weaving attempts to represent
animals or typical human figures, repetition immediately becomes
tiresome. A Madonna surrounded by angels, comes in badly, repeated
over and over again as a pattern, broken up by folds, cut up by a
seam, dislocated in the joining, and repeated in tiers. Such a design
is figured in Auberville's book.[90] The drawing is beautiful, but by
repet