- duction. They are poor in both respects—material and, when figured,
design—as may be seen at pp. 27, 28, 33, 36, 123, 124, 126, 219, &c.
Oriental ancient silks and textiles have their own distinctive marks.
From Marco Polo, who wandered much over the far east, some time during the thirteenth century, we learn that the weaving there was done by women who wrought in silk and gold, after a noble manner, beasts and birds upon their webs:—"Le loro donne lavorano tutte cose a seta e ad oro e a uccelli e a bestie nobilmente e lavorano di cortine ed altre cose molto ricamente."[1]
Out of the several specimens here from Tartary and India, during our mediæval period, we pick one or two which show well the meaning of those words uttered by that great Venetian traveller, while speaking about the textiles he saw in those countries. The dark purple piece of silk, figured in gold with birds and beasts, of the thirteenth century, No. 7086, p. 137, is good; but better still for our purpose is the shred, No. 7087, p. 138, of blue damask, with its birds, its animals, and flowers wrought in gold, and different coloured silks.
What India is, it has ever been, famous for its cloud-like transparent muslins, which since Marco Polo's days have kept till now even that oriental name, through being better than elsewhere woven at Mosul.
The Syrian school is well represented here by several fine pieces.
The whole sea-board of that part of Asia Minor, as well as far inland, was inhabited by a mixture of Jews, Christians, and Saracens; and each of these people were workers in silk. The reputation of the neighbouring Persia had of old stood high for the beauty and durability of her silken textiles, which made them to be sought for by the European traders. Persia's outlet to the west for her goods, lay through the great commercial ports on the coast of Syria. Setting, like Persia used to do, as it were, her own peculiar seal upon her figured webs, by mingling in her designs the mystic "homa," to the European mind this part of the pattern became, at first, a sort of assurance that those goods had been thrown off by Persian looms. By one of those tricks of imitation followed then, as well as now, the Syrian designers for the loom threw this "homa" into their patterns. This symbol of "the tree of life," had no doubt been a borrow by Zoroaster from Holy Writ.[2] Neither to the Christian's eye, nor to the Jew's, nor Moslem's, was there in it anything objectionable; all three, therefore, took it and made it a leading portion of design in the patterns of their silks; and hence is it that we meet it so often. Though
