its peculiar decoration remained in
possession of the descriptive name "palmated," though it is difficult
to discover in it any likeness to the palm branch or tree, unless it
is supposed to resemble it as seen from above.

The toga triumphalis was also called the toga picta, because its
precious purple fabric was covered with gorgeous embroideries. After
it had been worn at the triumph or festival, by the victorious
general, the distinguished noble, or the Emperor, it was laid by and
dedicated in the temple of Jupiter Capitolinus. Thus these palmated
triumphal patterns, and their traditional decorations, having by their
dedication to the gods assumed a religious character, were woven for
Christian ecclesiastical use during the dark ages, and were repeated
in Sicily and Spain down to the beginning of the fifteenth
century.[545]

I have elsewhere spoken of the "cloud pattern," which is very ancient,
Chinese, Indian, and mediaeval. Its use has always been for celestial
subjects in embroidery, either isolating or supporting spiritual
figures. This was appropriated by ecclesiastical art, and we find it
nowhere else in Europe.

This sketch of the history of ecclesiastical needlework, (necessarily
incomplete from want of space), is founded on the works of Semper,
Bock, Rock, and the comparison of many specimens in collections and
exhibitions in London and elsewhere. Auberville absolutely places
before us the materials as well as the patterns of the weaving of the
Christian era, as well as fragments of Egyptian textiles, in his
beautiful book on Tissues.

For forms and patterns we cannot do better than study Bock's
liturgical chapters and their illustrations, as well as Dr. Rock's
"Church of our Fathers."

The stitchery of Christian art has been discussed in the chapter on
stitches, and I repeat that there is nothing new in the treatment of
solid embroideries, (lace stitches having been the only innovation of
the last 400 years), though many of the ancient stitches have lost
their distinctiveness, and fallen into a pitiful style by gradual
descent which reached its lowest point in the early part of this
century, as is shown by the robes embroidered for the coronation of
Charles X. in the museum of the Louvre.

In the commencement of this our nineteenth century, there was a total
cessation of embroidery, which had, for nearly 2000 years held its own
as an art, apart from all others; perhaps a secondary one--yet mixed
up