development of one man's thought and ingenuity. But although we possess such abundant means of enlightenment as a general principle, there yet remain some few subjects concerning which we vainly seek for this plenitude of information; they must be either so closely enveloped in mystery as to disappoint inquiry, or not of sufficient general interest to awaken it. To both these causes may probably be referred, in some measure, the doubt and uncertainty which attach to the earlier annals of the art of Lacemaking.

Although we possess no positive clue to the date of this invention, and have only conjecture to rely upon, there seems reasonable ground for attributing it to the most remote ages. The love of distinction in attire doubtless gave rise, at a very early period, to some attempts at adornment with the needle; as the power of execution advanced, the style and manner of the designs necessarily improved, and the various branches of embroidery are known to have attained among the civilised and luxurious Greeks to a remarkable degree of perfection. So skilled were the Phrygian women especially in the use of the needle, that opus Phrygianum was the general Latin term for curious and fine needle-work of every description, whilst Phrygiones was the common name given to the class following the occupation of embroiderers. It has been suggested by more than one author, that the delicate ornamental work introduced by the Phrygians to other parts of the civilised world, included the manufacture of lace; but it has been more generally inferred, from passages in Pliny and Plautus, to have consisted of embroidery merely. The most ancient description of lace, however, being worked entirely with the needle, was, after all, but a finer specimen of the older art; and there is probability, if not proof, that its existence dates from about the same period. It is certain that neither labour nor ingenuity was spared in the production of the magnificent borderings for robes, often worked in gold and silver and various colours, which are associated in our minds with the ancients on better grounds than mere tradition. What, then, is more probable than that, in the search for novelty and variety-as much an object of desire, no doubt, in that age as in our own-the idea should have presented itself to some tasteful eye of relieving the pattern of the fabric with occasional spaces, either left wholly vacant, or filled up with a web-like groundwork? This would, in reality, constitute lace, however much it might differ from the delicate material known by that name in the present day. Whether the introduction of lace is referrible to the classic ages or not, certain it is that a very respectable degree of antiquity may be claimed for it.

It must be borne in mind that real or hand-made lace is divided into two distinct classes: first, that worked with the needle, which has for ages been known by the name of point, and is but transparent embroidery; and secondly, that made on a hard cushion or pillow, by the interweaving of numerous fine threads wound on

wooden bobbins. The latter method of lacemaking is compara-tively of modern invention; so that in the early history of the fabric it must be understood as referring solely to the point. During the earlier periods at which the existence of lace is generally recognised, it was exclusively worked in conventual institutions, and applied to the adornment of church-furniture and the state-vestments of the priests. Had it been made in populous towns, and formed an article of commerce, more satisfactory information would have been here and there discovered; but of those old isolated convents in Spain and Italy, and of the habits and pursuits of their inhabitants, little beyond vague tradition has descended to us. There is every reason to suppose, that during the thirteenth, fourteenth, and two following centuries, the making of lace occupied the same important position in the daily employments of the nuns, as the arts of copying and illuminating manuscripts, amongst the monks and friars. At a time when it was deemed a religious obligation of the recluse to confine her interests and sympathies wholly within the narrow limits of her prison-house, and before the education of the young was allotted as her share of the social duties of life, it is easy to imagine the enthusiasm and unwearied industry with which her one secular occupation would have been pursued. We can fancy her heart and mind alternating between the cares of Heaven and those of her work, to which a kind of religious interest would be given by its intended destination; patiently labouring on from day to day, month to month, and year to year, but making such imperceptible progress in the rich massive fabric upon which she was engaged, that to any eye but her own it must have seemed like a second Penelope's web. Yet she no doubt found in it excitement as well as interest; the arrival at every fresh stage of her work would shine forth both in anticipation and retrospect as an event of no little importance in her monotonous career; whilst the idea of seeing the result of her labours devoted to the sacred service, from which it would have seemed nothing short of sacrilege to divert it, was comforting enough to inspire fresh energy in moments of weariness and discouragement. Yet even this small reward could by no means have repaid the industry of all, since the completion of articles of any size-of albs and altar-cloths, for instance-must have involved the incessant application of many lives.

It is singular that, in later years, the secrets connected with the manufacture of old point-lace have been lost to us; and that, although ingenious imitations are by no means rare, the authentic method of making it is quite unknown. The substratum used, or foundation,' as it is called, would appear to have been fine linen, though scarcely a thread is visible to the eye, from the heavy embroidery upon it, which here and there stands out in complete relief. The pattern consisted of small sections of fantastic and varying outlines: now a rather unnatural imitation of a flower, now some quaint arabesque or mechanical form, resembling

nothing in the world but itself. These being distinct from each other, were united by delicate fibres made with the still common button-hole stitch; and it is not easy for mere description to do justice to the beauty of the general effect. It seems wonderful that so perfect a result could have been attained by following the impulse of the moment; but still more difficult to believe that any design could have been invented so strange and capricious in character. As for the untiring patience displayed in the execution, we can only rejoice that it was believed to be in a good cause; that the pious nuns could not foresee the desecration to which, in the course of some few centuries, their cherished productions were to be subjected. When accident or necessity by degrees alienated the more valuable adornments of church-furniture, they were applied to secular purposes; and no doubt many a modern belle may have unconsciously displayed in a ball-room a lace-flounce which has adorned an image of the Virgin, or sought ineffectual protection from a draught by drawing around her a mantle of old point, which has witnessed from the shoulders of a cardinal many a grand and imposing ceremony. There are, of course, comparatively few specimens extant of this very antique lace, properly described as Spanish point; and these few have in most cases been handed down to their possessors as valued heir-looms from generation to generation; regarded with as much honest pride by the ladies of the line, as the more valuable portion of the family heritage by their matter-of-fact husbands. As the supply of old point can never be renewed, and competition can never affect it, its value naturally increases; and when it can be bought at all, it is only at a price that would be deemed extravagant by any other than a genuine lace-fancier.

It was not until the latter part of the fourteenth century, that the world at large was indulged with more than an occasional glimpse of the beautiful fabric when displayed in the great festivals of the Church; but by that time some knowledge of the art had crept out of its holy hiding-places, and had found its way amongst the merchants of one or two continental cities, to whom its novelty and beauty could not fail to recommend it as a subject of extensive and profitable commerce. It is true, we do not hear of it at once as being in general use; but Rome was not built in a day, neither was point-lace to be produced at a wish. The hands that made it had to be carefully instructed and exercised in their employment before any degree of perfection could be attained, and then long and unwearyingly had they to pursue it before even the wealthier classes of society, to whom alone it was attainable, could be adequately supplied. We meet with most frequent allusion to Venice, that great bazaar of the luxuries of the middle ages, as the chief seat of the point-lace manufacture in early times. As this city certainly monopolised the most skilful artisans in every branch of ornamental handicraft, and was the great emporium whence everything beautiful and costly was spread over the

world, it is by no means extraordinary that the establishment of lacemaking in other countries should be generally referred back to some wandering band from the city of the winged lion.

The character of the lace worn during the fifteenth and sixteenth centuries differed in some respects from the conventual point, if it may be so termed. It was less massive, and although, certainly, exhibiting no deficiency of work, did not display that superabundance of adornment which distinguished the chefs-d'œuvre of the holy sisterhoods. This is easily accounted for by the circumstance, that the one kind was made for money by those whose bread depended on the work of their hands, whilst the other was the chosen occupation of leisure hours, and an outward demonstration of heart-service. A tolerably true and correct idea of the lace made in 1587, is given in a curious old book published at Paris in that year by a Venetian. This is the first work connected with the subject that is to be met with, and its appearance is said to have given a new impulse to the trade, and to have exercised a universal influence on the designs represented for many years afterwards. It is entitled: Les Singuliers et Nouveaux Portraits du Seigneur Frédéric de Vinciolo, pour toutes sortes d'Ouvrages en Lingeries; chose non encore vue ni inventée, subjoins the author, by way of enhancing his own peculiar merits and achievements. The book comprises a collection of patterns for lace-work, but without descriptions or letter-press of any kind; and, it must be confessed, that these same strange designs lead to the conclusion, that the taste of M. de Vinciolo, if not of the age itself, must have been very much in its infancy. We gather but an imperfect idea of the method by which the work was executed, as the illustrative engravings are more like representations of cut paper than anything else. They are, however, valuable as evidence that more than one kind of lace was at that time in existence; for, although in many of the plates we see the familiar old point repeated again and again, there are some others which convey the impression of a net-work with square open holes or meshes, on which were sewn various patterns cut out of linen, or some equally thick and heavy material. This net-work would certainly appear to us nothing extraordinary in itself, but it is, nevertheless, noticeable, as a decided indication of a new and different method of manufacture, which has maintained its importance even to the present day; namely, the use of the pillow, on which I shall have occasion to enlarge in connection with the productions of our own age and country. A simple unornamented groundwork would naturally be the first thing to which the discovery would be applied, so here, no doubt, we see it in its earliest stage. Beckmann, in his History of Curious Inventions, claims the one in question for a country woman of his own---Barbara, the wife of Christopher Ultman, of St Annaberg, in Saxony-and fixes the discovery previously to the year 1561. He adds, that the mines of Saxony being at that time unproductive, the miners' families were chiefly

dependent for support on the exertions of their women; and that their ordinary occupation-that of making veils-having also declined, the new work was eagerly welcomed, as affording them employment. We are informed, in conclusion, that the honoured inventress died in 1575, in the sixty-first year of her age, surrounded by sixty-four of her descendants, children and grandchildren; so she would have had a goodly band of disciples, even had she found none out of her own family. A doubt suggested itself to Beckmann, as it might do very forcibly to ourselves, whether the merit of Barbara Ultman did not consist rather in introducing pillow-lace into her own country, than in originating it altogether. A discovery of this kind was far more likely to have emanated from the Flemings, already distinguished in the art, and with whom, being a staple article of commerce, its improvement and extension would naturally have been the unceasing object of study and ambition.

The inhabitants of the various provinces of the Low Countries seem from the first to have eagerly and generally adopted this outlet for industry, in which their successful cultivation and preparation of the flax-plant gave them so marked an advantage. When the enterprise and commercial prosperity of Venice, Genoa, and the other great Italian cities had declined, on them devolved the responsibility, and a very profitable one it was, of supplying Europe with this among many other articles of decorative merchandise. Flanders lace has perhaps a greater historical reputation than any other kind, because the ages with which it was peculiarly identified are not so remote from our own as to render interesting records of its existence at all scarce. We recognise it in the grand old portraits of mailed warriors by Velasquez and other masters, where the large falling collar, or full ruff of rich lace, lends a sort of grace to the stern panoply of war. Frequently, too, the lacemaker, bending over her pillow, is introduced into the much esteemed representations of homely Flemish life by Mieris, Terburgh, and Gerard Douw, and affords a subject of far more grace and interest than those to which the artists of that school generally devoted their wonderful powers of pictorial description. Again, we usually find honourable mention of Flanders lace in minute records of the gala dresses of courtly dames and cavaliers who graced the courts of Europe during the latter part of the middle ages; and if the sight of old point summons up many a strange vision of conventual shades, the name of its younger rival is not less rich in association with the pomp and grandeur of a very different phase of existence. That it always varied greatly, not only in quality but in character, there can be no doubt: each town in which the art of making it was cultivated, and every individual who contributed to its further development, would naturally give a characteristic peculiarity to their work, and bring to bear upon it improvements suggested by their own individual taste and judgment. Hence there were probably as