had, for groundwork principles, exactly what the most recent of Western arts owned. The eye is thus focused on the whole design, or rather on the point of the whole design; for two sides of the triangle are longer than the third,—I need not say that a mathematical measurement is not taken of the material before it is used,—and the eye does not wander vaguely all over the group, seeking the motif.
Roughly speaking, and simply put, one takes three sprays of the chosen branch or flower, or three, in all, of the combination of plants to be used, and places the longest one in the middle, its end curved over like a bow. Then on one side is put another piece, about half its size, while on the other side is placed the third spray, half as long again as the second, and therefore half-way between the two others in length. Now, as I say, this is roughly speaking, for, although here is the fundamental principle, no stiff or angular design will pass, and the composition must be, above all things, free and natural-looking. No one would believe, who had not tried it, how difficult this is of attainment. One does not merely ‘stick in a few twigs’ by any means. To get just the curve one wants (or ought to have!), the branch may have to be heated gently over a brazier so as to make it more pliable, and to allow it to be bent, without breaking, into the desired attitude. Then stiffer sorts of plants have little notches
