aspect
of an aspen or other tree of light and liberal leaf; whether still or in
motion the aspen and the free-leafed poplar have the alertness and
expectancy of flight in all their flocks of leaves, while the oaks and
elms are gathered in their station. All this is not Japanese, but from
such accident is Japanese art inspired, with its good luck of
perceptiveness.

What symmetry is to form, that is repetition in the art of ornament.
Greek art and Gothic alike have series, with repetition or counter-change
for their ruling motive. It is hardly necessary to draw the distinction
between this motive and that of the Japanese. The Japanese motives may
be defined as uniqueness and position. And these were not known as
motives of decoration before the study of Japanese decoration. Repetition
and counter-change, of course, have their place in Japanese ornament, as
in the diaper patterns for which these people have so singular an
invention, but here, too, uniqueness and position are the principal
inspiration. And it is quite worth while, and much to the present
purpose, to call attention to the chief peculiarity of the Japanese
diaper patterns, which is _interruption_. Repetition there must
necessarily be in these, but symmetry is avoided by an interruption which
is, to the Western eye, at least, perpetually and freshly unexpected. The
place of the interruptions of lines, the variation of the place, and the
avoidance of correspondence, are precisely what makes Japanese design of
this class inimitable. Thus, even in a repeating pattern, you have a
curiously successful effect of impulse. It is as though a separate
intention had been formed by the designer at every angle. Such renewed
consciousness does not make for greatness. Greatness in design has more
peace than is found in the gentle abruptness of Japanese lines, in their
curious brevity. It is scarcely necessary to say that a line, in all
other schools of art, is long or short according to its place and
purpose; but only the Japanese designer so contrives his patterns that
the line is always short; and many repeating designs are entirely
composed of this various and variously-occurring brevity, this prankish
avoidance of the goal. Moreover, the Japanese evade symmetry, in the
unit of their repeating patterns, by another simple device--that of
numbers. They make a small difference in the number of curves and of
lines. A great difference would not make the same