THE CERAMIC ART

By JENNIE J. YOUNG

WITH   464   ILLUSTRATIONS

NEW YORK
HARPER & BROTHERS, PUBLISHERS
FRANKLIN SQUARE
1878

Entered according to Act of Congress, in the year 1878, by

H a r p e r   &   B r o t h e r s,

In the Office of the Librarian of Congress, at Washington.

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IN writing the present volume, the author’s object has been to answer as tersely and lucidly as possible the more important questions in connection with the history and manufacture of pottery and porcelain, and to bring the results of recent research to bear upon some of the unsolved problems of the “science of ceramics.” The literature of the subject is formidable in dimensions. Authors have divided the field into sections, and have in many cases presented learned and exhaustive special treatises. Notwithstanding the solid learning and critical acumen reflected in their pages, their form and voluminous character, however, detracted from their value as books for familiar and speedy reference, and left the acquirement of a general knowledge of the ceramic art a matter for wide research and prolonged study on the part of every reader and collector. The attempt has here been made to condense the leading points of the subject, to arrange them after a simple and easily intelligible method, and thus to present in one volume a comprehensive history. No hesitation has been shown in drawing upon foreign authors. Many of the later developments of the art have also been touched upon, and the results of the more recent efforts of artists and manufacturers have been illustrated and described. In treating of America, the author has endeavored to convey some idea of its wealth in materials and of the present condition and tendencies of the industry, and to do justice to those who have laid the foundation of its claim to recognition in the world of art.{2}

The author has incurred obligations in many quarters for information and assistance. Mr. Samuel P. Avery, the Hon. Yoshida Kiyonari, Japanese Minister at Washington, General Di Cesnola, and the many private collectors whose cabinets are represented in the following pages, gave valuable aid both in obtaining illustrations and in other respects. Mr. Charles Edward Haviland, Mr. Theodore Haviland, and M. Bracquemond contributed many valuable hints upon technology and the manufacture and composition of different wares. The dealers of New York, Boston, Washington, Albany, and other cities took an active interest both in directing the author to collections and in furnishing specimens for illustration. Among American manufacturers, Mr. Thomas C. Smith, of Greenpoint; Mr. James Carr, of New York; Mr. Hugh C. Robertson, of Chelsea, Massachusetts; and Mr. J. Hart Brewer, of Trenton, are especially deserving of thanks for helping the author to a true insight into the past history, present condition, and prospects of the art in the United States.

In regard to the engravings, while it was, of course, found necessary in many cases to cull from the rich accumulations of ceramic treasures in Europe, in order to secure the proper illustration of the work, the preference has invariably been given to the collections of America. Such a course recommended itself for obvious reasons. It was thought that it would, in the first place, gratify those desirous of knowing where, in this country, the best representatives of the art of certain countries are to be found; and that, in the second place, it would direct artists where to study the best styles of decoration. One result of the author’s investigations in this matter has been the conviction that the American collector is cosmopolitan in his tastes, and that the American cabinet—in many instances the American tea-table—represents the amity of nations. The arts of all countries are found arrayed side by side in a profusion of which it would have been hard, a few years ago, to find a trace.

In choosing the pieces to be engraved, a threefold aim has been kept in view: the elucidation of the text, the representation of the{3} greatest number of different wares by characteristic examples, and the introduction of as many beautiful works of art as possible consistently with the accomplishment of the two previous objects. The requirements of the student of decorative art have been fully considered, and due weight has been given to the fact that these requirements can be met better by the pencil than the pen.

In procuring specimens, the author has acknowledgments to express both to private collectors and to the curators of public institutions. Among the latter may be mentioned General Loring, of the Boston Museum of Fine Arts, and Mr. H. C. Hutchins, of the Metropolitan Museum of Art in this city, both of whom admitted the author to a close inspection of the collections under their charge, and personally superintended the taking of sketches and photographs. Similar favors were received from the trustees and Dr. M‘Leod, of the Corcoran Art Gallery; from Professor Baird and Mr. Cushing, of the Smithsonian Institution, in Washington; and from the officers of the United States Geological and Geographical Survey of the Territories. Mr. Edward Bierstadt of New York, and Mr. T. W. Smillie of Washington, also granted facilities and volunteered courtesies which proved invaluable.

Casual reference is made in the following pages to the marks of factories and artists, but after due deliberation it was decided not to make them the subject of special treatment or illustration. Several good manuals are already in the hands of the public, and a book of marks should never take any other form. It is comparatively useless unless easily portable and handy. Then, again, marks are, and always have been, imitated to such an extent that they are not the most trustworthy guides to the parentage of specimens. Collectors who buy pieces for the sake of the mark they bear may be deceived; those who buy for the sake of beauty may occasionally be mistaken; but a cultivated taste can never be deluded into finding beauty in the unbeautiful. The art, and not the mark, should be studied; and the fact that many of the finest and most highly valued specimens—Chinese,{4} Japanese, Persian, Saracenic, Greek, Italian, and many modern wares—have no mark gives additional point to the observation.

If the present work should be found defective in certain points, it must be remembered that it could hardly be otherwise, considering its scope and limits. The author will be satisfied if, besides answering its primary purpose, it should increase the interest already awakened in the subject of which it treats, and lead students to appreciate and examine the collections at their command in this country.

J. J. Y.

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THE history of ceramic art carries us back to ages of which it has furnished us with the only records. Beginning almost with the appearance of man upon the globe, it brings us down through the intricate paths of his migrations to the time in which we live. Historically, therefore, the study of the art is not only replete with interest, but promises much benefit to the student. The forms under which it appears are so varied, the circuitous route it has followed leads to so many lands and among so many peoples, and the customs it illustrates are so distinctive of widely separated nationalities, that its history is co-extensive with that of humanity. In many cases it supplies us with information regarding nations whose works in pottery are their only monuments.

Were we, therefore, to attempt to find its origin, we might go back as far as written history could guide us, and then find proofs of its existence in a prehistoric age. It is curious to observe that, as we compare the earliest productions of different countries, we discover a similarity between the crude ideas to which they owe their origin.{20} It is equally remarkable—and the fact is worthy of notice as pointing to the great antiquity of the practice of working in clay—that all nations of whose early religious ideas we have any knowledge ascribe its inception to the gods. Daily habit demonstrated its utility, and gratitude found a cover for ignorance, in bestowing upon the heavenly powers the credit of inspiring man with a knowledge of the capabilities of the plastic clay.

Reason supplies an easy solution of the problem, but one not likely to occur to the unreasoning man of the primitive world. “On the day,” says Jacquemart, “when man, walking upon the clayey soil, softened by inundations or rain, first observed that the earth retained the prints of his footsteps, the plastic art was discovered; and when lighting a fire to warm his limbs or to cook his food, he remarked that the surface of the hearth changed its nature and its color, that the reddened clay became sonorous, impervious, and hardened in its new shape, the art was revealed to him of making vessels fit to contain liquids.” The reason of the nineteenth century conflicts strangely with old-world opinions of what was due to beneficent deity. Of this we can easily find abundant illustration. Let us take, as examples, China, Japan, Egypt, and Greece. We will find that each reverts to the misty boundary between legend and history, or to the earlier age when the gods had not deserted the world—the horizon of mortal vision or fancy, where heaven seems to touch earth. It is said that nearly two thousand seven hundred years before the Christian era the potter’s art was discovered in China by Kouen-ou. This was during the reign of the enlightened Emperor Hoang-ti. Of him it is recorded that after many labors for the good of his subjects, the amelioration of their condition, and the extension of their knowledge, he was translated to the upper sphere on the back of a huge and whiskered dragon.

The Japanese follow a precisely similar course. Having no real knowledge, they call imagination to their aid, and solve an historical problem by the creation of a legend. Turning back to a period long before history begins, they affect to find the inventor of pottery in Oosei-tsumi, a legendary being who lived in the age of Oanamuchi-no-mikoto, and conferred upon him the title of “Kami,” distinctive of deity.{21}

The Egyptians, more reverently, gave the art directly to the gods. Having a pantheon, they merely singled out that one of its occupants to whom the honor should be ascribed. As Osiris is their Bacchus, and Thoth their Mercury, so to the director Num, the first creature, they ascribe the art of moulding clay. Like the Hebrew Jehovah, he first made the heavens and earth, the firmament, the sun, and the moon, and, from the fact of his having made the rivers and mountains, would appear also to have evolved order out of the Egyptian chaos. Lastly, he made man. Turning the clay of the Nile upon his wheel, he fashioned the last and greatest of created things, and having “breathed into his nostrils the breath of life,” made man the cornerstone of the fabric of creation. Inspiration and monotheism apart, it would almost appear that the Jewish law-giver found in the hated “house of bondage” a foundation for his cosmogony.

In how many instances did the Greeks lay the honors due to some forgotten mortal at the feet of a god or a semi-divine hero? To them Inachus, who about 1800 B.C. founded the kingdom of Argos, was not the leader of a band of adventurous emigrants from Egypt, but a child of the sea over which he came, a son of Oceanus and Tethys. It was only when Gelanor, the last of the race of Inachus, was deposed by Danaus, that we find a Greek recognition of the early connection of that country with Egypt. Danaus was the son of Belus, and brother of Ægyptus, jointly with whom he occupied the throne of Egypt. Quarrelling with his brother, Danaus set sail, and, arriving at Argos, rose to the throne by the means above indicated. These statements are only of value to our present purpose as showing the close connection between Greece and Egypt, and pointing to the conclusion that Egypt dropped the germs of that art which Greece cultivated to such perfection that it won the admiration of the world. If we turn to the origin of pottery accepted by the Greeks themselves, we are confused by the liveliness of their teeming imagination. The exercise of fancy takes the place of an undeveloped historical sense. When Jupiter wished to punish the rash impiety of Prometheus by giving him a wife, Vulcan made Pandora, the first of mortal women, out of clay. Prometheus is one of the strangest figures in Greek mythology. He laughed at the whole Pantheon, cheated the great Jove himself, and was yet a benefactor of mankind, after he had created{22} the species; for to him also is ascribed the creation from clay of the first man and woman. Thus the gods and heroes were potters, and the art was practised by them before mortal life began. To two Corinthians, one Athenian, and one Cretan, the invention of the plastic art has been attributed; but, passing these by, let us turn, for philological reasons, to the legend of Keramos. The story of the adventures of Theseus is pretty well known. By the help of Ariadne, he killed the Minotaur of Crete, and escaped from the Labyrinth, and, having subsequently abandoned his fair assistant on the island of Naxos, she is said by some to have hanged herself in despair. Others, however, assert—and to their tale we must listen—that in the arms of Bacchus she found solace for her sorrows. Their son Keramos was the patron of potters, and to his name we owe our word “keramic” or “ceramic.” When the Argives pointed out the tomb of Ariadne, her ashes were deposited in an urn in one of their temples, so that by means of the art attributed to the son, the mother’s remains were preserved.

It is thus made clear that the practice of making vessels of clay had no origin to which we can now turn back. The art was born in the “twilight of the gods,” whose productions are now used in illustrating the pages of history. Even in these wild fancies there is a germ of truth. The first attempts at moulding in clay had a common origin in the necessities of man, and the promptings of nature to supply them. The material was on all hands ready for use; and why should the men of antiquity be held to differ from the children of after-ages, or those of our own time? To one the suggestion may have come from one source, to another it may have come from another; and unless we choose to bind ourselves to the narrative of the building of the great Tower of Babel, and the dispersal of races, we may be led to think that its origin may have been manifold, as its rudest attempts have certainly been discovered in places wide apart.

On the sea-shore the child builds its house and mill, giving by the help of water a certain consistency to the inadhesive sand. On the roadside, or by the pond’s rim, it shapes the oozy mud into the forms suggested to childhood’s imitative instinct. One of the earliest and most beautiful of the legends relating to the youth of Christ has reference to this very matter. He was engaged with his playmates in{23} making earthen birds. His efforts were clumsy and his art rude, and his companions jeered him, until the birds he had made became living things, and flew away. Let us by all means concede this to have been an impossible miracle, based upon an idle legend. Yet it proves that either in the early days of Galilee, or in those of the inventor of the tale, the habits of children differed in no degree from those of to-day. A kind of instinct would almost appear to lead them to model and imitate in clay; and putting primitive man upon the level of childhood, there is no reason for believing that the plastic art had not several independent origins.

The manner in which pottery illustrates history brings us to one of the most interesting features of the study (Fig. 1). While the connoisseur is deep in the history of the art itself, the student prefers to view it in its relation to that of mankind. It suggests difficulties, confirms deductions, and offers hints for the solution of the problems of history. The memory of extinct nations is perpetuated by the clay records which have survived their submergence in the tide of time. In these we may read, as in a book, of the gods they worshipped, of their daily life, of their death and burial. Historians now, in fact, consult the relics of the potter’s art with as much confidence and readiness as they would turn to the pages of an old-world chronicle. Migrations, intercourse, and conquest have all been{24} recorded in clay. One might in that way define with the utmost exactness the line bounding the vast empire of Rome. The bricks or tiles, placed over the graves of the soldiers or found in their camps, show the stations of the legions and the extent of conquest. Wherever

in England, Scotland, France, Germany, Jerusalem, or elsewhere, there have been found tiles or bricks stamped with the number of the legion or its distinctive appellation. The tragic end of Quintilius Varus is known to all readers of Roman history. A Roman proconsul of high birth, and enriched by the governorship of Syria, he was appointed to the command of the army confronting the hordes of Germany. Surprised by the German chief Hermann, or Arminius, his army was almost annihilated, and he, in despair, after the fashion of his time, sought death by his own hand. The Emperor Augustus wailed for months, “Varus, give me back my legions,” the legions which were lying on the field, at the farthest point to which the armies of Rome had penetrated, and also the farthest in that direction, at which any specimens of Roman pottery have been found. From the funereal urns of the Greeks we are enabled to tell how far they pursued their conquests in any direction. Other nations left, in the lands to which their arms were carried, similar mementos of their presence, which, on being exhumed, after lying for centuries covered thickly over by the dust time is continually spreading over the past, are transferred to the page of history.

A very forcible example of the historical value of earthen-ware is found almost at our very door. Irving relates, in his “Life of Washington,” that, not long after his birth, his father removed to Stafford County, near Fredericksburg. The house stood on a knoll overlooking the Rappahannock. This was the home of George’s youth. The meadow between the house and the river was his play-ground. But this home, like that in which he was born, has disappeared; the site is only to be traced by fragments of bricks, china, and earthen-ware. Another example may be taken from a paragraph which appeared in the daily papers very recently, in which it was stated that two amphoræ—the name given to the Greek two-handled, oval-bodied vases{25} (Fig. 2) with pointed base, which have been found wherever Greek commerce extended—containing fifty thousand coins of the Emperor Gallienus and his immediate successors, had been discovered at Verona. Nearly all were as fresh as when coming from the mint. Gallienus assumed the purple A.D. 260, and reigned for eight years before he was assassinated at Milan. For over fifteen hundred years, therefore, these vases preserved their numismatic treasures.

Fig. 2.—Greek and Phœnician (on right) Amphoræ. (Cesnola Coll., N. Y. Metropolitan Museum.)

Still another instance may be mentioned in which the close connection between history and its handmaid, pottery, is illustrated. Some time ago certain travellers in Egypt purchased a number of small jars (Fig. 3) of a kaolinic composition, which they were told had been taken from the tombs. They were evidently, from the style of decoration and the characters they bore, of Chinese manufacture; and the first conclusion was, that, as evidence was not wanting to show that one of them had been taken from a very old tomb on its being first opened, they were possessed of a highly venerable antiquity. Subsequent investigations, however, showed that they had been obtained from certain ports on the Red Sea, and were to be ascribed to a comparatively recent date. The discovery subtracted about two thousand five hundred years from their age. But how came these Chinese vases to find their way to the commercial cities of the Red{26} Sea? Before navigators had learned that the great highway between Europe and the East was round the South of Africa, intercourse was maintained either by the overland route or through the Persian Gulf. This accounts for the abundance of Chinese porcelain found in Persia. Some of the specimens may have been left on the western side of the Gulf, and have thence found their way across Arabia to the shores of the Red Sea, whence they were obtained by the fraudulent venders of Lower Egypt.

In this way the intercourse of nations may frequently be explained by the help of pottery. Not only, be it observed, may it be taken as an indicator of the movements or extension of the nations themselves, but of the manner and extent of their intercourse with the rest of the world.

As an exponent of the customs of antiquity, its aid is of the highest value. We learn, for instance, that among the Greeks the usual custom was to mix wine in one vessel, cool it in another, draw it from the latter into jugs, and from them fill and replenish the beakers or cups of guests. We can see anywhere to-day tiny tea-sets for the amusement of children. The Greeks had something closely akin to them. Vases were given to children, as toys are given now. Some of those discovered are so limited in their dimensions that they could not have been used for any other purpose, and on others are depicted the games in which children engaged. Of all the uses to which an earthen jar could be put, certainly the most singular was that discovered by Diogenes, when he chose one for his habitation (Fig. 4).{27} That such was the case there is strong reason for believing. This statement is one which may disconcert popular belief, and break off the association between the philosopher and a “tub;” but the authorities in favor of his home being a huge jar are tolerably decisive. A tub, moreover, scarcely seems to meet the requirements of the occasion, whereas it is easy to imagine a pithos satisfying the limited demands of Diogenes in the way of house-keeping. Nor was the whim of the philosopher without parallel. It is said that during the Peloponnesian war the Athenians lived in similar vessels. The pithos occupied by Diogenes was cracked and patched; and these vessels, when unfit for other use, were, long after his day, used as dwellings by the poor.

Vases were presented as prizes (Fig. 5) to the victors in the athletic games; and it is from these and other kinds deposited in sepulchres, that we derive the greater part of our knowledge of Greek ceramic art. Not only were they used—at least after the earliest days of Greece—to hold the ashes of the dead, but were evidently employed as tokens of respect or affection. Thus, the vases the deceased had most admired or used in life were placed in the tomb, along with others containing the remains of the funeral feast, and those employed in the last rites. The amphora was devoted to all kinds of domestic uses. The rhyton was a drinking-cup (Fig. 6). There were special vessels for oil and unguents; and the different kinds of wine-jars and drinking-cups present an almost endless variety of shapes, and, especially the latter, a most wonderful beauty of form. Of these, the kylix affords a good example{28} (Fig. 7). In this way we see that, from childhood to the grave, the customs of the Greeks are illustrated by their pottery. We pass by, in the mean time, with a mere reference the numberless mythic themes decipherable in the decoration of their vases.

We meet with a precisely similar state of things among the Chinese. We can only study the pottery of that people after familiarizing ourselves with their religion. How otherwise can we understand the quaint figures and designs which meet us at every turn—the God of Longevity, Pou-tai the God of Contentment, their manifold dragons, the Kylin, the Dog of Fo, or the Fong-hoang? Colors and shapes, as well as animals, are employed as symbols. As the crane symbolized long life, so were certain colors and forms distinctive of social rank. Let us take a vase and study it closely, observe its proportions and decoration, and these will guide us to its purpose and to the rank of the individual making use of it. Vases and images tell of both the public and private worship of the Chinese, and of the manner in which it was conducted. The excess to which the Chinese carry the duties of hospitality and courtesy has been frequently commented on. It would be hard to imagine anything showing better the refinements of which etiquette is capable, than their manner of decorating their reception-rooms, so that they may be filled with the mildest incense of flattery to the expected guest. Should he be a soldier, vases stand{29} on all sides, decorated with the warlike scenes best suited to his professional taste. Should he be a poet, war is changed to literature, and vases are chosen which recall the great names of the profession. After a manner similar to that in vogue among the Greeks, pottery and porcelain were used by the Chinese as media for the conveyance of compliments and good wishes, and as special marks of honor. They were conferred on the officer by his sovereign, and passed between friends at the customary times of rejoicing.

We approach Egypt, in this connection, with a certain amount of awe. We examine its early pottery with a sensation similar to that with which we view a mummy. It comprises relics of a civilization of so hoary an antiquity, that to study them is like peering into the secrets of the grave. It is, in fact, from the tombs that the treasures have been exhumed which enable us to trace Egyptian ceramic art. They tell of customs followed long before the Persian Cambyses

Some of the specimens date from the Third Dynasty, about four thousand years ago. There is now in existence a porcelain box bearing one of the names of Amasis II., the king whom Cambyses overthrew six hundred years before our era began. The earliest relics may be said to have been coeval with the invention of a written language.

Fig. 7.—Kylix, with Gorgon and Eyes.

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A very curious custom may be allowed to arrest our attention for a moment. In the tombs previous to the sixth century B.C., have been found cones (Fig. 8), having inscriptions on their base. From these we learn the occupants’ names and office, whether scribes, priests, or nobles. They served, in short, all the purposes of the inscriptions on the tombs of our day, or of labels for establishing the identity of the dead. Terra-cotta figures have also been found in some graves, bearing, like the cones, the name and title of the deceased. In the same connection may be mentioned the peculiar, and to us revolting, usage of devoting vases to holding the viscera of the embalmed body.

The multitudinous domestic uses of jars cannot here be enumerated. We know that they were devoted to purposes which would now be considered somewhat at variance with the legitimate object of the manufacture of earthen-ware. We might almost say that all the receptacles designed in modern times for domestic convenience, such as baskets, boxes, and tin utensils, have their counterparts among the earthen fabrics of the Egyptians. Nor must we stop there if we observe the many other purposes of ornament and religion to which their ceramic wares were devoted. The Egyptians had an idea that the physical wants of the deceased did not come to an end with life, and they accordingly placed in the tombs jars with meat and drink for consumption after death. Of these jars, many had unquestionably been previously employed in the household. From such and other sources we learn that earthen pots were employed in cooking, as those of metal are with us, that certain vessels were used for holding water; others for the juice of the grape, for butcher-meat or poultry, for cosmetics, and, stranger than any, for holding the flax while it was being spun. Manuscripts, or papyri, have also been discovered in them; so that it may easily be seen how important a part pottery played in the every-day life of the Egyptians.

If we turn to their glazed ware, or porcelain, as it has been called,{31} we find it much more extensively applied to decorative purposes. The unglazed was almost exclusively restricted to articles of a domestic kind. The glazed ware was employed in tiling, and inlaying coffins and boxes, and in the making of various vases and cups. Balls, presumably for the amusement of children, and other toys sometimes also made of pottery (Fig. 9), ear-rings, the pieces for a game akin to draughts (Fig. 10) or checkers, amulets, beads, necklaces, small figures of the gods (perforated), emblematic animals, finger-rings, and sepulchral figures, have all been found of this material. The extent to which such discoveries illustrate the customs of the Egyptians need not be enlarged upon.

Having thus brought forward China, Greece, and Egypt as instances, it is hardly necessary to pursue this line of inquiry further. It may be said, in the broadest language, that every nation of whose ceramic productions we have any specimens, have in them reflected their religion and customs, and thus furnished most important aids to the construction of their national history.

Literature has been enriched by figures drawn from the ceramic art. Some of the most effective similes of Biblical writers are thus derived. It is under the type of a potter that Jeremiah represents God as showing his absolute power over the Israelites: “Behold as the clay is in the potter’s hand, so are ye in mine hand, O house of Israel.” In a similar manner, St. Paul typifies the divine control over man. “Nay but, O man, who art thou that repliest against God? Shall the thing formed say to him that formed it, Why hast thou made me thus? Hath not the potter power over the clay, of the same lump to make one vessel unto honor and another unto dishonor?” It is this absolute “power over the clay” which led men to use it for the conveyance of their first conceptions of the beautiful. The pottery of all countries shows how religion stimulated art, by furnishing it with themes, and infusing into it a spiritual signification which all could understand. The pottery of the Greeks shows best how art may embellish religion and history, and perpetuate{32} the legends belonging to neither. To the above may be added the very effective simile employed by Plato in characterizing Socrates: “The outside of the vase is scrawled over with odd shapes and writing, but within are precious liquors and healing medicines, and rare mixtures of far-gathered herbs and flowers.”

And thus, by a short step, we reach the art represented in pottery. It supplies, beyond all question, the best means of observing the growth of intelligence and the expansion of artistic ideas. The very qualities of clay which led to its being used in the gratification of awakening necessities, led also to its being adopted for the expression of the first inspirations of art. When the Assyrian potter first ornamented the brick he had moulded (Fig. 11), the mechanical pursuit was elevated to the sphere of art. The same course was followed among all nations. When the discovery was reached, that clay could be made serviceable for building or for household vessels, decoration sooner or later suggested itself. Either forms were varied and became in themselves ornamental, or a superficial decoration was resorted to. The useful led to the beautiful, and their combination, as seen on the dinner-tables of our day, is the natural result of a universal process by which nations have advanced from rude and unskilful ignorance to art. The aboriginal American potter decorated his coarse vase with a few scratches made with a stick; his modern successor moulds his porcelain into graceful forms, and brings to its ornamentation a palette of bright colors, a trained hand, and a cultivated taste. The one is a relic of barbarism, the other a work of civilization, and both are the fruits of a combination to which all nations have been irresistibly led, viz., the useful with the beautiful. This course has been universally followed, and may, for that reason, be called natural. Man in every part of the world has given vent to his instinctive longing for that which, to him, represents beauty in the embellishment of objects in daily use. It is by the consideration of such facts that we learn to appreciate fully the bearing of pottery upon art and history. Upon this point Dr. Birch says: “By the application of painting to vases, the Greeks made them something more than mere articles of commercial{33} value or daily use. They have become a reflection of the paintings of the Greek schools, and an inexhaustible source for illustrating the mythology, manners, customs, and literature of Greece. Unfortunately, very few are ornamented with historical subjects, yet history receives occasional illustration from them; and the representations of the burning of Crœsus, the orgies of Anacreon, the wealth of Arcesilaus, the tributes of Darius, and the meeting of Alcæus and Sappho, lead us to hope that future discoveries may offer additional examples.”

This passage leads directly to the consideration of the permanency of ceramic works as compared with those of other branches of art. The “reflections of the paintings of the Greek schools” have come down to us in all the beauty they possessed on first leaving the artist’s hand. We may allow Mr. Ruskin to state the reverse case, and draw the conclusion. “It is surely,” he says, “a severe lesson to us in this matter, that the best works of Turner could not be shown for six months without being destroyed—and that his most ambitious ones, for the most part, perished before they could be shown. I will break through my law of reticence, however, so far as to tell you that I have hope of one day interesting you greatly (with the help of the Florentine masters) in the study of the arts of moulding and painting porcelain; and to induce some of you to use your future power of patronage in encouraging the various branches of this art, and turning the attention of the workmen of Italy from the vulgar tricks of minute and perishable mosaic to the exquisite subtleties of form and color possible in the perfectly ductile, afterward unalterable clay. And one of the ultimate results of such craftsmanship might be the production of pictures as brilliant as painted glass—as delicate as the most subtle water-colors, and more permanent than the Pyramids.” Both these writers thus refer to permanency as a feature of the potter’s art, which lends it a special importance. Whatever form the art may have assumed, it is, when applied to pottery, practically imperishable. By his allusion to the effect of time and exposure upon the paintings of Turner, Mr. Ruskin invests the results he contemplates with a certain kind of grandeur. He has in view the culminating point of ceramic art, the apex to which the works of the artists of all time lead up step by step. What process he would adopt, or what forms of the art he would discard, we need not now inquire. It will be sufficient to take our stand{34} at the point indicated—the perfection of form and decoration—and observe how the artists of the past have approached it, and to mark the ideas by which they have been influenced.

The ceramic is the union of two branches of art, the architectural and the graphic. It combines form and proportion with drawing and color. It is unnecessary here to define art in the abstract; but there are certain general principles which may help us to estimate the works of the ceramic artists of all countries. Of these, the first is thus stated by Ruskin: “The entire vitality of art depends upon its being either full of truth or full of use; and however pleasant, wonderful, or impressive it may be in itself, it must yet be of an inferior kind, and tend to deeper inferiority, unless it has clearly one of these main objects—either to state a true thing, or to adorn a serviceable one. It must never exist alone—never for itself.... Every good piece of art ... involves skill, and the formation of an actually beautiful thing by it.” The “statement of a true thing” referred to in the passage quoted is Similitude, one of the philosopher-critic’s essentials in the graphic arts. In the architectural arts, including pottery, he demands Skill, Beauty, and Use; in the graphic arts, Skill, Beauty, and Likeness. If, however, we keep in mind what Dr. Birch says of the vases of Greece being a reflection of the Greek school of painting, and also Mr. Ruskin’s desideratum of pictures upon exquisitely moulded porcelain, we shall see that the essentials of the ceramic art, as a special branch, comprise those of both the architectural and graphic divisions—Skill, Beauty, Use, and Similitude. In one respect, therefore, it may be said to be the highest of all the arts.

The rule thus laid down can be easily applied, and is capable of various modifications to suit the special object upon which it is brought to bear. Thus, a work of art may represent Skill alone. Add, to equal Skill, the second essential, Beauty, and the work will rank higher in art. Invest an object for Use with both Skill and Beauty, and it is raised still higher. If to these Similitude be added, the work will be estimated according to the degree in which it possesses the four essentials. It is obvious, however, that in the works of the ceramic artist, it is neither always possible nor desirable to aim at bringing the four essentials together; and this fact will receive ample illustration from what follows. The rule has been modified{35} by every nation according to its views of art and beauty. It is better to recognize the good in all, than to accept one standard and exclude all others. Catholicity of sympathy and breadth of appreciation are as necessary to the collector’s enjoyment as to the student-artist’s benefit. Should the one raise an inflexible standard by which to measure his admiration, or the other allow only one carefully defined style to kindle his emulation, both will shut out the greater part of the world of art. Every work of art is an expression of feeling, and, to appreciate it, it is necessary to make as near an approach as possible to understanding the sentiment it embodies. The form of expression varies with different nations and with different men; and to catch all the fine and elusive shades of feeling surrounding the art of different times and peoples, the cultivation of a keen and sensitive perception of beauty is better than voluntary slavery under a despotic and arbitrary rule. Art is the universal language in which humanity has couched its ideas of beauty. The form of expression varies, but the impulse is everywhere fundamentally the same. We have endeavored to put in words rather the common aim of all, than a rule by which to measure individual endeavor. It does not follow that all efforts are equal. Some have approached the common object by one route, and others by another, and some have approached it nearer than others; but in no case can one be singled out as the only correct course, to the condemnation of all others. The true artist will combine the best features of all achievements, and so win a place nearer the goal than his predecessors. If we find one artist excelling in form, and another in color, he who combines excellence of form with beauty of color will surpass both. The narrowness of schools and the vagaries of fashion have been a burden upon art; and the less we allow ourselves to be enthralled by either, the greater will be our enjoyment of artistic work. The more rigid our rule, the more precarious is its existence. The standard of yesterday is to-day looked upon with a feeling akin to contempt. Methods, models, ideals change; and the wise man is he who can see the merits and shortcomings, the beauties and defects, of all.

We have said that different nations have shown in different ways their sense of the aims and possibilities of ceramic art. The works of the Greeks indicate an absorbing admiration of elegance of form{36} and figure-drawing. Their vases mark the second step in the progress of decoration. Firstly came linear ornamentation, and then light and line, of which all the Greek vases are examples. If, then, the Greeks in their best days had only reached the second step in decoration, to what must we ascribe the wonderful influence of their art? Certainly it is not in the subjects they chose to illustrate that its charm consists.

Taking our stand in ancient Greece, we may glance along the whole line by which the art has progressed toward an approximate perfection, and at the same time see in what the Greeks were pre-eminent, and in what they were deficient. “To Greece,” says one writer, “was intrusted the cultivation of the reason and the taste. Her gift to mankind has been science and art.” Her highest idea was beauty. She left behind her canons of taste, beyond which, in their special application, we have not advanced, and have little hope of advancing. We are not, therefore, surprised when a writer on pottery reminds us that “to every eye familiar with works of art of the higher order, the cleverest imitations of nature, and the most elegant conceits of floral ornaments, whether exhibited in the efforts of Oriental or European potters, appear coarse and vulgar when contrasted with the chaste simplicity of the Greek forms.” If we would appreciate the full truth of this, we have only to make comparisons in any sufficiently extensive collection. The Greeks took the articles of daily use, and made them representatives of their ideas of beauty in both form and ornamentation. In this they followed the examples set them ages before. In accomplishment only they were alone. While, therefore, we study some as mere examples of skill, or curiosities of design, we study the Greek forms as embodying our highest ideal of beauty.

Let us now examine that in which they were deficient, and see how others have tried to remedy it.

There are branches of the art which the Greeks either did not study, or studied without success. They give little evidence of having been able to appreciate color or to understand its uses. They, as Ruskin says, painted anything anyhow—gods black, horses red, lips and cheeks white. They attained to a certain unsurpassable elegance of shape, and the beautiful outlines of their human-figure ornamentation{37} can at times hardly be sufficiently admired; but their coloring was purely conventional, and its application but little understood. Its changes may be noticed with some curiosity. At first the favorite ground was a pale cream-color, which, later, turned to a redder tint, and human took the place of animal forms. The vases in what is called the “old style,” show black figures and ornamentation in monochrome, with the exception of female faces, which are white, and eyes red. The effects of perspective are only occasionally tried. White was used for the hair and beard of old men. Coming down next to the highest art of Greece, the ground is black, the figures red, and the ornamentation white. Specimens belonging to this period show advance chiefly in the drawing and expression. We remark further, that, besides the use of conventional colors, the Greeks did not care to copy nature too closely, and thus in two distinct ways showed their indifference or inability to introduce into their art the element of likeness. When Jacquemart says that “no natural object, be it plant, bird, or animal, is rendered in its real form, or in its intimate details,” he gives expression to a fact which shows the distinction between Greek ceramic art and that in which a nearer approach is made to similitude by the use of correct drawing and color.

The Orientals went to the opposite extreme. They delighted in bright and gorgeous decoration to an extent that, but for their many intensely realistic works, would lead to the belief that the production of certain effects in color was the highest object of their artists. Their strength lies in their coloring. Nowhere else can the same skill be found in the harmonizing of shades usually deemed discordant, and nowhere else have colors the same brilliancy and depth (Fig. 12). The Japanese and Chinese, in particular, appear to have thoroughly grasped the true place of color in the{38} decoration of curving surfaces, from which the brilliant glaze reflects the light. The artists of Sèvres, anticipating in a manner Ruskin’s idea, embellished their vases with compositions similar to those on canvas. They made the mistake of thinking that the artist’s work is independent of the surface on which it appears, whereas perspective is altered and sometimes destroyed by the curvature of a vase and the brilliancy of the enamel. The artists of the Orient, on the other hand, either restrict themselves to subjects which can be treated upon a judiciously limited part of the surface, or throw aside compositions entirely, and trust to floral designs, isolated figures, repetitious decoration without unity of design, or to beauty of colors alone. Everything contributed to exalt their estimation of color for its own sake, and to it we accordingly find that they devote the regard entertained by the Greeks for form. Any ulterior use of color, as for picture-painting on the flat surface of porcelain plaques, does not appear to have occupied their attention to any very great extent. It is in isolated figures and flowers that we can best study the marvellous delicacy of the Chinese or Japanese brush, and the fidelity with which the suggestions of nature are followed. There is little absolute imitation. Color is paramount, and its beauty obscures the incongruities of Oriental art.

The Persians, like the Greeks, mingled the natural with the conventional. Their vases and tiles (Fig. 13) are ornamented with floral designs, in which, while some of the flowers can be distinguished, others are altered beyond recognition. Among the Mussulman Persians the enamels reached the highest point of gorgeous brilliancy: glowing red as a ground-color, dishes with bottoms covered with rich arabesques—everything set in tints of the most pronounced and striking kind. Their decorations are many-hued as the rainbow; and if at times they lack its softly melting shades, they appear at others as if{39} suspended in the clear and liquid glaze, as soft as the tints of early spring. White figures on a blue or yellow ground, or vice versa, are distinctive of much of the ornamentation of Persia. The mosque at Sultaneah (Fig. 14) is described as having its walls entirely “cased with enamelled tiles of deep blue, with yellow and white scrolls and devices.” The patterns are arabesque, occasionally mingled with animal and floral forms. The finest specimens of Persian tiling at the Museum at Sèvres are in blue and white, the latter forming the ground.

Fig. 14.—Mosque at Sultaneah. Cased, inside and out, with enamelled tiles.

These technical secrets, known centuries ago in Persia and the far East, have been coveted by ceramists down to the present day. They have been and are the most jealously guarded possessions of artists and factories, and history records many instances of the extreme precautions adopted to prevent their spread. The Japanese, for example, although indebted to China and Corea for the foundation of the knowledge upon which the magnificent structure of their subsequent art was built, guard with the utmost care the borrowed secrets in their{40} possession. In a native work on porcelain it is said: “The painting and decoration of vases is a secret that it is not permitted to reveal.” Similar instances present themselves on every hand. The production of any unusually beautiful color, although really only one-half of the difficulty with which the ceramic artist has to contend, is universally regarded as a triumph. Such were the efforts upon which the potters of China expended their skill, and upon which the emperors of the Flowery Kingdom bestowed rewards. There are dynastic colors, but no dynastic style of ornamentation with design. The ability to apply color to an artistic creation was a secondary matter, and went without recognition. The position of the artist and the workman were thus in a measure inverted, if we insist that the production of color is mechanical, and its application artistic. If the decoration be examined, its execution in detail will be found to be almost perfect—birds of brilliant plumage, flowers of richest hue, men and women draped in Oriental splendor (Fig. 15). In every case the colors used are those which produce the subtlest harmony. They gleam through the glaze like gems, or lie upon its surface like drops of pearl, ruby, or emerald. The drawing is precise and minute. A cylindrical Japanese vase, in Mr. J. T. Sutton’s collection, is decorated with a flock of cranes. They cover the upper part of its surface, flying, turning, diving, in every conceivable attitude—a perfect whirlwind of birds. The decorator has, with astonishing skill, seized upon the varied attitudes most suggestive of motion, and has produced what might be called “a study of cranes,” as far beyond the apprehension of a European artist as the minutiæ are beyond his skill. Elsewhere we may see a masterpiece of manual dexterity. It is reticulated, or articulated; or has its paste perforated, and then covered with glaze; or it may be a grotesque expression of Oriental humor. Others are decorated with designs in color, and their aspects have no monotony.{41} Should one side weary, the vase may be partially turned, and an entirely new effect is secured. In it, as in that described above, there is no repetition.

In Oriental work, as a whole, we therefore find skill in manipulation, similitude in drawing, and beauty in color; and the greatest of these is color. We have seen how it was regarded by the Chinese themselves, and our collectors follow their lead. They value one piece for the rarity of its prevailing green, another for the depth of its turquoise, a third for the clearness of its blue and the transparency of its white, a fourth for the harmony of its many tints, a fifth for the skill displayed in its quaint form and decoration.

We thus reach an interesting point where some instruction may be gained. On the one hand, are the Greeks pursuing beauty of form with assiduity and marked success; on the other, are the Orientals occupying themselves with mechanical skill and the beauty resulting from color. Both were right so far as they went. Men will admire Greek pottery so long as they have any sense of elegant proportion; they will admire Oriental pottery so long as they find any beauty in the changing colors of a kaleidoscope or in a gem. The aims and ideals of the two peoples were different, and the world has not yet seen the combination of a gracefulness of form equal to the Greek with the coloring of the Orient.

In other directions, especially in Europe, it is more difficult to unravel the lines of art, or to specify, without numberless exceptions and modifications, the distinctive aims of artists or schools. The example of the Orientals has led some manufacturers to choose the production of color as their great aim. They have no intelligent comprehension of its higher uses, as these might be studied in Chinese decoration. They form an exaggerated estimate of Oriental processes, and {42}seek to equal the wonderful coloring of the faience of Persia or Rhodes. If they fail, as is generally the case, they are in no way deterred from using their inferior colors as the Orientals used the riches of their palette. Instead of turning toward a new object within the compass of their lower skill, they appeal to the eye with works which, by suggesting comparison with the models that inspired them, are at once condemned. If a vase of Nankin porcelain should be placed side by side with a Delft copy, the force of this will at once be seen.

It is comparatively easy to assign a place to Palissy. His career deserves study as an illustration of the movement of art between the conventional and the natural. As we look back upon his works, we find that truth to nature, in both form and color, was the guiding motive in the production of his most remarkable pieces. We owe the romance of his life to his earnestness in attempting to solve the mysteries of enamel. “I thought,” he says, “that if I could discover the invention of making enamel, I should be able to make vessels of earth, and other things of beautiful arrangements, because Heaven had given me to understand something of painting; and thenceforth, without considering that I had no knowledge of argillaceous earth, I set about seeking enamel like a man who gropes in the dark.” The story of his trials, his failures and successes, his poverty, honors and persecutions, compose the great romance in the history of ceramics. What he attained was, first, a white enamel; then, jasper glaze of warm tints of blue, brown, and white; lastly, his Rustiques figulines (Fig. 17). The last was his crowning effort. We regard him both as the leading representative of French art in the sixteenth century, and as a great originator. He had made, after long struggle and endeavor, a great discovery in enamelling; but what we admire more than that is the ideal he had formed. He developed skill, and aimed at both beauty and likeness. Palissy was great because, having chosen a certain line of art, he adopted the only ideal by which he could possibly reach perfection, viz., absolute truth to nature, alike in form and color. He neither spared himself nor overlooked any detail. His moulds were formed from living specimens. We recognize every ornament—shells of the district round Paris, reptiles and plants from the same places, and fish from the Seine. He did not dare to improve or conventionalize. He preferred nature as he found her; and his wisdom was genius. What we wish chiefly to note is, that here was an artist{43} who used the beauties of enamel for the reproduction of the natural. He not only moulded the clay into the forms of living things, but reproduced the colors of his models. No better examples can be given of Similitude. It hardly seems possible that his was a branch of the same art that we have seen in the East and in Greece. The fact of its being so merely shows the wide scope of ceramic art, and the infinity of the forms it may assume.

Fig. 17.—Palissy Dish. (Soltykoff Coll.)

Having chosen representatives of three different components of what we have assumed to be the highest form of art, we may now glance at the end in view, and see to what extent the lower forms may be worthily followed. Let us suppose that a piece of pottery or porcelain has been painted, and that the action of the fire has made the coloring perennial, so that we find on it a portrait or a landscape everlasting as the ware itself. Let us suppose, further, that the tints are natural, that, in short, the portrait is all that we now understand by the word, and that in the landscape nature is displayed as on canvas—then we should have a specimen of the perfect union of the potter’s and painter’s art.

The lessening obstructions in the way of such a consummation may be referred to in brief. The colors are mineral, and change by submission to fire, different temperatures producing different tints,{44} even when the same pigment is used. The painter, therefore, in applying the colors, must take into account the change to be effected by the fire in endeavoring to produce a certain result. He has not merely, it will be observed, to lay on given colors, and have them made perpetual by glazing and firing. He must estimate and make allowance for the transformations effected in the process. We are now in a position to realize the difficulty attending the exercise of the combined skill of potter and painter. As a consequence, although many great painters have turned their genius to the decoration of earthen-ware, others have been deterred from doing so by the very facts here mentioned. They are unwilling to submit their work to processes unattended with certainty, and to have their artistic individuality obliterated by the fire. It is clear, therefore, that if by any means doubt can be changed to certainty, and the finish characteristic of the individual artist be preserved, artists of every grade will gladly avail themselves of the opportunity to place their works above the reach of the defacing fingers of Time. The ceramic art would be revolutionized. Artists, being at present less able to follow nature, make a virtue of necessity, and lose themselves among fantasies of tint and form. We find elaborately decorated pieces, the great virtue of the floral ornamentation of which is, that it is—not true, but—new. A new leaf or a novelty in flowers is a valuable discovery; and the répertoire of the potter is filled with designs in which nature has no part. If nature be brought within the artist’s reach, it will be followed more closely; and the result might be the realization of Ruskin’s idea—the rendition of absolute similitude in outline, color, and perspective.

The next question arising is, in view of the restraints upon artists, what styles of decoration are the best? The subject is worth considering at length. There may be a beauty of a certain kind in the ware itself. As a rule, porcelain should never be overloaded with gold or any kind of decoration or color less beautiful than its own enamel. It demands lightness of ornamentation and gracefulness of design, rather than brilliancy of decoration. We can, when these canons are observed, find something to admire in capricious floral designs, even although they may not be floral to the naturalist. The best rule is to adapt the decoration to the object upon which it is{45} laid. It would be a violation of good taste to demand pictures upon plates, or that a soup-tureen should resemble a sarcophagus. If an object be for use, let its usefulness be the primary consideration; if for ornament, let its beauty be its first; if it be meant to combine them, let the ornamentation be that best suited to the useful purpose.

When we come to consider color alone, a distinction must again be drawn between articles for different purposes. Ornamentation may address either the eye alone or the sensibilities through the eye. Restricting ourselves to the former, the article will be the most ornamental which, apart from shape, seems most brilliant, and reflects the most light. To illustrate this, we might reproduce an object in different materials—diamond, ruby, topaz, gold, iron, lead, sand, and plaster. Show it, in all these materials, to a savage, an ignoramus, an artist, a woman, and each will select the copy in precious stone as the most agreeable to the eye. The plaster would be the least likely to attract, and the person choosing it would be at once put down as devoid of taste. Suppose, now, that a vase is presented to us duplicated in different materials, we should find the turquoise of Japan or the red of China more pleasing to the eye than stanniferous enamel. It would, again, be like choosing between ruby and plaster. In this way a rule could be drawn up capable of universal application, one which would surmount all the advancing and receding waves of changing fashion.

In the shape which an object intended for ornament should assume, or in the style of its decoration, there is, as we have seen, no absolute rule. Individual taste is paramount, since ornaments are intended mainly to administer to the pleasure of the possessor, but one rule may be considered universal in regard to the decoration. If the object be a vase intended to brighten a house, then its ornamentation should never be of such an order that its greatest and best effect is perceived when it stands alone. What ought to be kept in view, is the extent to which it will increase the attractiveness of the room in which it stands. It is a very curious fact that the most perfect decoration demands isolation for the appreciation of its full effect, and that decoration of comparative mediocrity will frequently add more to an apartment. We are thus led to observe that decoration is not an end, but a way, a means to the beautifying of a home.{46} Every such object in a house should be a note, and from combination of all the notes comes harmony. Were each a tune complete, however perfect, the result would be a jarring discord. For that reason, a vase of one perfectly simple color may harmonize with its surroundings as well as, or even better than, another showing a masterpiece of painting. Such a color must, however, be as near perfection as possible, like that of a precious stone. A vase of turquoise-blue may produce in a room the effect of diamonds in the ears of a woman. Taste is not likely to lead her to carry pictures in her ears, nor to exclude all but picture-painted porcelain from her rooms.

Having thus seen how ceramic productions illustrate the art ideas of all nations, having touched upon the influence of pottery upon art in general, and having glanced at its present aims and possible accomplishments, it will not be forgotten, after what has just been said, that the combination of the useful and the beautiful is the great charm of the ceramic art, making between them a new beauty which finds its best place in the household. Let us look at the usual appurtenances of the table. They both reflect taste and form it. A wide range is before us from which to choose—from the vulgarity of overloaded glaring colors and gilt, to the most exquisite simplicity of design and perfection of workmanship. Every house-keeper ought to visit an extensive collection, and, by comparing and contrasting one style with another, learn in what the true beauty of ceramic decoration consists. The painting and moulding of pottery and porcelain are quite as important as oil-painting and sculpture. As we look at the pictures and statues in a gallery, we read the stories they tell, feel the sentiment they express, study the grace they embody, or linger lovingly over the evidences they present of artistic skill. A plate may appear{47} an humble thing to which to turn from them. But let us consider the intimate relations into which we are brought with its unobtrusive beauty. It is the daily contact that lends so comparatively lowly a matter its real importance, and daily contact with delicately painted and gracefully moulded cups, platters, and dishes cannot be without its influence upon taste. Or suppose the ceramic treasure be an earthen-ware jar. It presents us with green, its depth suggestive of a forest glade, shading off into blue like that of the sky. As we turn it slowly round, a leaf appears attached to a tiny stem, and still farther lies a flower, colored with the very hue of nature, and suggesting the perfume of a garden in summer. Art such as that is never out of place, and never thrown away. Or let our attention rest upon more purely ornamental representatives of the art. There are vases which, while offering for our admiration a beauty which is eternal, are yet invested with a chameleon-like power of change. They never allow monotony to break their charm. It may consist of a mere color. Take the old turquoise-blue of China. The eye can scarcely catch the fleeting shades, to determine whether the vase is blue or green. While daylight lasts, the blue is dominant, but when the lamps are lit in the evening, the blue gives place to a green of greatly increased brilliancy. The same thing may be observed in many flower-painted vases. They may be examined once without revealing a tithe of their beauty. The sky is overcast and the outside world gloomy, and the flowers, as sympathetic as though growing in the garden, look sombre and drooping. But let a ray of sunshine fall across the vase, and mark how the flowers are glorified. Their hues change and brighten, and, as if endowed with life, they smile, and lift up their heads in the face of the sun.{48}

IT will be necessary as we proceed to make use of certain terms, the meaning of which should be defined with as much exactness as possible. It may be premised that considerable confusion exists in the nomenclature of the art. This has arisen partly from the want of precision in the language employed by writers, and partly from diversity of usage. As an illustration, the word “porcelain” may be adduced. The material to which the Egyptians applied a glaze, and which was very largely used in making ornaments and small images, has been called, and is constantly spoken of, as Egyptian porcelain (Fig. 20). In reality the substance is not porcelain, having neither the transparency nor the hardness of that ware, but a compound between porcelain and earthen-ware. The word was also used by the Italians in the sixteenth century, to designate their finer qualities of majolica. An equally incongruous application of it is made in the case of Lambeth faience, which is described by the manufacturers as a “kind of porcelain.” Such words as faience, hard and{49} soft porcelain, majolica, stone-ware, etc., are in continual use by writers upon ceramic art, and a few of the more important will now be defined.

Allusion has already been made to the derivation of the word “ceramic.” Viewing the subject more prosaically, the name κεραμος was applied by the Greeks to pottery in general, and also to a large jar; and several derivatives were used for the designation of different vessels. The potter himself was called κεραμευς, and the pot-market κεραμεικος. Although the matter has been differently viewed, it appears probable that the root of all the above words is κερας, a horn. The horn was used at a very early period as a drinking-cup, and a more decided air of probability is thus given to the above assumption, since Bacchus was the reputed parent of [Greek: keramos κεραμος], or Ceramus. However philologists may ultimately settle this matter, the word “ceramic” is now employed to designate the potter’s art and its productions.

The word “pottery” is variously used. Its root is the Latin potum, a drinking-vessel. It is applied, according to general English usage, to all wares distinguished by their opacity from translucent porcelain. The French word poterie, on the other hand, is applied to all vessels, including those made of porcelain. The latter fact has led to a slight confusion in the use of the English word. One writer makes the assertion in one place, that the words “earthen-ware” and “pottery” have limited and distinctive meanings, the former applying only to vessels of the coarser qualities, the latter to the finest products of the fictile art, “including even porcelain.” In another place, he draws a distinction between pottery and porcelain, and in the latter course he is followed by the present writer.

Faience, fayence, or fayance, is a French word applied to every kind of glazed earthen-ware. According to the earlier French usage, the term included porcelain, but more lately it has been applied only to pottery.

The word “majolica,” as now employed, has almost the same meaning as faience. A more limited signification is attached to it by some. The writer of the article on pottery in “Appleton’s Cyclopædia” says it is used “to signify all faience of Italian manufacture. Lately the word has been used as almost, if not quite, synonymous with faience.” A more recent writer has said, “In its now common acceptation, the word is applied to all kinds of decorated pottery made{50} in Italy, or made in colors and styles imitating the old Italian work. But when you read a book on pottery written during the present century by an expert, you will do well to remember that the word in that book means exclusively Italian decorated pottery of the fifteenth, sixteenth, seventeenth, and eighteenth centuries, in the old Italian styles. It does not include Italian vases made in imitation of German, French, Dutch, or English wares.”

The changing meaning of this word is a good illustration of the careless use of the terms employed in treating of ceramic art. Originally, majolica, or maiolica, had a meaning different from any of those given above. The name is derived from Majorca, the largest of the Balearic Islands, between which and Italy intercourse is known to have taken place in the twelfth century; and two hundred years later, the commercial transactions of Majorca were of a very extensive kind. The evidence in favor of the above derivation of the word is conclusive. Scaliger says distinctly that the Italian pottery derived its name of majolica from Majorca, where the pottery was most excellent. Ferrari believes that “the use of majolica, as well as the name, came from Majorca, which the ancient writers called Majolica.” The “Dictionary della Crusca” adds weight to these authorities. Such being the case, it seems probable that the Italians derived part of their knowledge of making majolica from the place which gives it its name. Even admitting that the Saracens who settled in Sicily, and the Moors expelled from Spain who settled in Italy, initiated the Italians in the art, nothing is thereby detracted from the importance of Majorca. The fact is left unaffected that the intercourse with the Balearic group enabled the Italians to find a name for the ware they admired so much. On trying to imitate it, the ware called “mezza-majolica” was produced. The red clay was first thinly coated with white earth, upon which the colors were laid. After a partial firing, lead glaze was applied, and lustre pigments gave the ware the iridescence characteristic of real majolica. It was after this that tin enamel was used in place of a white slip; and the lustre pigments being applied as before, fine majolica was produced. It will thus be seen that the words “mezza-majolica” and “majolica” were originally applied only to wares showing the reflet métallique, or lustre. This limited use of the word was observed down to the middle of the sixteenth century. Piccolpasso,{51} writing in 1548, in no case applies the name to the painted and glazed wares of his own production. All the glazed earthen-ware of Italy was thereafter called majolica; and the application of the word has been growing wider ever since. Mr. Fortnum says, “We think, with M. Jacquemart, M. Darcel, Mr. J. C. Robinson, and others, that the word ‘maiolica’ should be again restricted to lustred wares.” Any such attempt must necessarily end in failure. The popular employment of a word is not to be controlled by its scientific application. The tendency is in the opposite direction—toward the establishment of a universal usage by which faience and majolica will become convertible terms.

The different kinds of ware, such as Lucca della Robbia, Palissy, Doulton, and Limoges, will be found described under the countries to which they belong.

Porcelain is composed of two ingredients, one of which—kaolin—is infusible, and the other—petuntse—vitrifies, and envelops the kaolin. It is translucid, and therein differs from pottery, which is opaque. As to the origin of the word, we have already seen that it was, in its Italian form, applied to majolica in the sixteenth century; and the word “pourcelaine” occurs two centuries earlier. It was used to designate Oriental china in the fifteenth century. Mr. J. F. Davis, in his work on the Chinese (1840), quotes Marsden to the effect that the word “porcelain,” or porcellana, was applied by Europeans to the ware of China, from the resemblance of its fine polished surface to that of the univalve-shell so named; while the shell itself derived its appellation from the curved or gibbous shape of its upper surface, which was thought to resemble the raised back of a porcella, or little hog. When porcelain was first invented in China is not exactly known. The combination was discovered in the province of Honan about eighteen hundred years ago; but the date cannot be more specifically fixed. From China it was introduced into Persia, Egypt, and Barbary, at a very early period, and was thence imported into Europe, where, however, it was not generally known until 1518. The first specimens of Oriental porcelain known to have reached England were given by Philip of Austria to Sir Thomas Trenchard, of Wolverton, in 1506.

To continue its history in Europe, it is necessary to observe that there are two kinds of porcelain—the natural, or pate dure, and the{52} artificial, or pate tendre. The latter cannot stand so high a temperature as the former, and can be scratched with a knife, which the hard porcelain resists. The soft-paste was the first to be discovered in Europe. Chemists, struck with the beauty of the Chinese porcelain, and impelled by a desire to imitate, began to experiment in the sixteenth century; and the first success, of which substantial evidences now exist, was gained at Florence in 1580. It is said that a Venetian potter made porcelain sixty or seventy years earlier; but no specimen known to be his is now in existence. After that of Florence, the next discovery was made by Dr. Dwight, of Fulham, England, in 1671; and in 1695 the secret was penetrated by M. Chicanneau, at St. Cloud, France. By that time the Florentine porcelain and process had been forgotten, and the English and French ceramists pursued perfectly independent investigations.

The problem of making a hard-paste porcelain resembling that of the Orient still remained unsolved. No chemistry could avail the experimenters so long as the materials were wanting. To the accidental discovery of a bed of kaolin, Europe owed its first hard porcelain. This important event took place about the year 1709, and the circumstances leading to it are full of interest.

John Frederic Böttger, or Böttcher, was a chemist’s assistant in Berlin, and having fallen under suspicion as an alchemist, he took refuge in Saxony, which was then under the electorate of Augustus II. The elector, having questioned him as to his researches in the forbidden science, placed him in the laboratory of a chemist who was in search of the philosopher’s stone. While working to that end, Böttcher surprised himself by producing something akin to Chinese porcelain. The course of his experiments was turned at once from the channel in which it had run. The king gave him every facility for continuing his experiments and working out his secret. He was first established at Meissen, then at Königstein, and last at Dresden. The first results were comparatively rude; then came a reddish stone-ware, and afterward a dull white porcelain. How long his experiments might have been continued, or what might have been their ultimate result, cannot be estimated, had not an accidental discovery brought the object at which he was aiming suddenly within his reach. John Schnorr, a wealthy iron-founder, riding one day in the vicinity{53} of Aue, near Schneeberg, Saxony, noticed that his horse lifted his feet with difficulty. On examination he found that the clay was very white and peculiarly adhesive. Schnorr, although rich, would gladly be richer, and avarice made him ingenious. Why not use this white earth in the making of hair-powder? was the question which occurred to him. The commodity was dear, and clay was a cheap substitute. He took a quantity with him, made the new hair-powder, and was successful in his venture. In due course, the new powder reached Böttcher, and he, in turn, found an original use for the white earth. Inquiring into the nature of the powder, he found it was earthy, and at once tried it in his laboratory. The powder was kaolin, and hard porcelain was discovered. A manufactory was established at Meissen, of which Böttcher was director until his death, in 1719.

In 1720, the manufacture was begun at Vienna, whither the secret was carried by an escaped foreman from Böttcher’s works at Meissen.

It is very curious to note that the first manufacture of hard porcelain in France was due to a chance discovery almost identical with that made in Germany. Kaolin had been found at Alençon, but the porcelain made from it was not pure in color. In 1765, the wife of a surgeon found near St. Yrieix a peculiarly soft earth of great whiteness. Being poor, Madame Darnet was also economical. Unlike Schnorr, her thoughts turned in the direction rather of keeping down household expenses than of adding to her income. The earth had a soft, oily touch, and the good lady thought that it might answer all the purposes of soap. Her husband sent a sample to a chemist, and it was soon afterward decided to be kaolin. The manufacture of hard porcelain was begun at Sèvres in 1769, the quarries of St. Yrieix supplying both the kaolin and petuntse. As illustrating the ingratitude of the world, it may be mentioned that the humble instrument by whose aid France reached its lofty eminence in the manufacture of porcelain was, for about sixty years, left unrewarded. In 1825, Madame Darnet, spending her old age in poverty, received a pension from Louis XVIII.

Biscuit is the technical term applied to both pottery and porcelain before they are enamelled or glazed. In this condition, porcelain is of a dead white, and is not very well suited to receive decoration in colors which require a glaze to bring out their full beauty.{54}

IN order to avoid repetitions and explanations, and for the sake of lucidity, tabulated views of the different branches of ceramics are here presented. The first is least detailed, but gives the salient points of a systematic arrangement.

The following is more full, and is to be ascribed to M. Brongniart:

{55}

If these tables be studied carefully, it will be found that in arranging the nine orders, a gradual ascent is made from the humblest ware—baked clay left unglazed—to the finest of artificial compounds. Its only objection—and it is one very likely to confuse an inexperienced student of the art—is, that, under the head of hard-paste pottery, are classed the soft-paste porcelains of England and France. The question is, also, very likely to suggest itself, why the distinction should be drawn between the soft-pastes of England and France, and the one called natural, the other artificial. The reason is that the paste of England is naturally soft, while that of France is made soft by the chemical action of certain of its ingredients. The classification has, on the other hand, the advantage of being in general use. Terms are employed in its construction which have a peculiar but well understood significance; and even in its errors there is a modicum of truth. Thus, although the artificial porcelain of France is invariably called pate tendre, or soft porcelain, it is not improperly classed under translucent hard-pastes. The error is in the distinctive name rather than in the classification. There is, in reality, very little difference in hardness between the hard-paste and the soft-paste; and although the glaze of the latter is not so hard as the body, the appellation soft-paste has been adjudged a misnomer. The question then came to be whether it might not be better to retain the old terms, with an explanation of their technical meaning, than to supplant them with something new. The latter course has been adopted, upon the ground of obviating meaningless and misleading distinctions. Both simplicity and a clear understanding of one of the most important practical divisions of our subject point toward a revision of the old system of grouping. Pottery and porcelain differ in one essential respect, and their varieties can also be classed according to the leading features of their composition, manufacture, or appearance. These differences have been taken as the basis of the following classification, against which, at least, none of the objections to that of M. Brongniart can be brought. It has been prepared by a distinguished French artist of the present time, and is offered in the hope that it may be intelligible, although it is not claimed to be either perfectly exact or altogether complete.

All wares are divisible into two great classes, viz., transparent porcelain and opaque earthen-ware.{56}

For convenience of reference, the same classification may be given in tabulated form:

Under the above arrangement, it will be observed that the distinction{58} between hard and soft porcelain and pottery is done away with. The first is divided into natural and artificial, the kaolinic paste being the only one coming under the former head, and the “soft-pastes” of both England and France coming under the latter. The subdivisions are made according to the glaze employed. The division of pottery into two classes, according to the nature of the body as revealed by fracture, is the most lucid and comprehensive. The subdivisions, as in the case of porcelain, are made according to the enamel or glaze applied to the ware. It is presumed that any one can distinguish between transparent and opaque wares, and thus tell porcelain from pottery, and similarly, tell whether the fracture of a broken specimen is vitrified or otherwise, and thus distinguish stone-ware, or grès, from ordinary earthen-ware.

In the matter of glazes, it requires a great deal of skill and long practice to tell one from another. All are transparent, with the exception of tin or stanniferous enamel. Felspathic glaze is that most readily recognized; but in the case of the others—the alkaline, plumbiferous, and boracic—they are very often only to be distinguished by their different effects upon the colors used in decoration.{59}

THE division of pottery and porcelain into two great classes, hard and soft, is based upon the difference of their composition, their hardness of surface, and their power of resisting the action of fire. The simplest test is scratching with a knife or other instrument. Hard porcelain and pottery resist the metal, while the soft is marked. The former will also stand a temperature in the kiln at which the latter would crumble or fuse.

To understand the composition of porcelain, it is necessary to bear in mind that it is a compound of kaolin and petuntse, the former of which is infusible, and the latter fusible at a high temperature. The former constitutes the body of the piece, the latter gives it its translucency. The word “kaolin” is derived from Kaoling, the name of a mountain near King-teh-chin, one of the great centres of the manufacture in China. Kaolin is simply the result of the decomposition of granitic rock, and silica and alumina are its chief ingredients. Petuntse is pure felspar. The conditions in which these materials are found in China may be briefly stated. They are either in the form of stone or sand, from which the unsuitable parts are removed by the action of water. When they are thrown into the water, the fine particles which do not sink are collected and dried. The paste, before being used, is again put into water and strained through a sieve, so that only the finest is preserved, and used in making porcelain. The{60} materials are obtained from different parts of the country, and blended according to their respective qualities, as ascertained by the most systematic investigation and experiment. The European process is similar, the kaolin being first washed clear of all argillaceous impurity, and then mixed with felspar and silicious sand. Of the further similarity between the two, MM. Ebelman and Salvetat say:

1st. The kaolin and petuntse used in making paste for Chinese porcelain are chemically identical with the materials used in Europe. The Chinese kaolin is evidently disintegrated granite. Chemically, petuntse resembles the pegmatite of Limoges; mineralogically, it is to be classed with petrosilicious felspar.

2d. The mechanical preparation of the pastes of China and Europe is based upon similar methods.

3d. The Chinese paste is the more fusible of the two.

4th. The Chinese glaze is also the more fusible, on account of the addition of lime to the petuntse, which the French use pure.

It may be added that the Dresden, Sèvres, and Limoges porcelains are baked at a higher temperature, and are harder than the Chinese.

The basis of the natural pastes of Germany and France is 46.66 parts of silex, 40 of aluminous earth, and 13.33 alkaline earth, although the proportions vary, and the following may be nearer an average: Silex, 66; alumina, 30; potash, magnesia, and lime, 4. In the glaze the proportions are different, the silica largely preponderating: Silex, 73.4; alumina, 15.7; potash, lime, and magnesia, 10.9.

The following table is given by M. A. Salvetat as the result of analyses made at different times by himself and others:

{61}

The English artificial porcelain differs from the natural paste of China and the European continent chiefly in one particular. At first the compound used was white clay, white sand, and glass, the latter being employed to impart the necessary transparency. More recently bone came largely into use, and is now one of the distinctive ingredients of English paste. The phosphoric acid of that material was found to produce, in combination with the other materials, a clear, translucent body, of less strength than natural paste, but less liable to sink. The following may be taken as the mean composition: Bone, 47; kaolin, 34; felspar, 19. The kaolin is found in Cornwall, where a very large tract is formed chiefly of decomposed granite. The purest rock having been selected, it is placed on an inclined plane, upon which water can be turned. It is washed down into a trench, and thence into a catch-pit, and again into lower pits, in which successively the impure ingredients are retained, the water laden with the finer particles running into tanks, and there depositing its fine silt. The clay is partially dried, and cut into blocks, and in that shape reaches the potters. The manner in which the kaolin is prepared bears a very close resemblance to that adopted by the Chinese, as previously described. The glaze is composed of felspar, carbonate of lime, borax, and white-lead. Sometimes the kaolin is mixed with the bone and felspar in the proportions above specified, and sometimes the bone is made, in combination with silex and pearlash, into a frit.

The artificial or soft porcelain of France, exemplified in the old china of Sèvres, was produced by a very intricate and ingenious process. A frit was made of saltpetre, sea-salt, burnt alum, soda-ash, gypsum, and sand. This mixture, having been purified by partial vitrification, was ground, and mixed with chalk and marl. The glaze was as follows: Litharge, 38; sand, 27; calcined flint, 11; and the carbonates of soda and potash, 15 and 9 parts respectively.

The composition called parian, in which the potters of England and America have executed much beautiful work, varies considerably. Analysis of one specimen resulted thus: Silica, 58.57; alumina, 21; oxide of iron, 1; lime, 0.14; magnesia, 0.5; potash, 11.40; soda, 5.08.

The clay from which common earthen-ware is made is composed to a great extent of silica and alumina, with admixtures of iron, lime, and magnesia. An average combination is 60 parts silex, 30 alumina,{62} 7 iron, and 2 lime. These proportions vary very widely, certain substances appearing in one place and not in another. In some, carbon is found; in others, quartz, sand, marl, or chalk, as the case may be. The work of classification, except in a very extended form, is thus rendered somewhat difficult. Possibly the following series of tables will serve our purpose most intelligibly.

In the following carbon does not appear, and the proportion of silica increases:

The Egyptian, compounded as above, is that which has been commonly known as Egyptian porcelain. Many of the better known wares of Europe and the East have a common characteristic in the calcareous nature of their pastes. The silica decreases and the lime increases, while carbonic acid appears as a new ingredient.

{63}

Of the potteries which hold a place between the hard and soft wares are the Palissy and Henri Deux. The composition of the former is 67.50 silica, 28.51 alumina, 1.52 lime, 2.05 oxide of iron, with a very slight admixture of alkalies. That of the latter is 59.10 silica, and 40.24 alumina.

From what has been said, it will be seen that the difference between earthen-ware, stone-ware, and porcelain is to be attributed to a few minor ingredients, to the preparation, and to the degree of heat to which they are subjected. The following table may be studied for the sake of making comparisons:

As to the glazes applied to clay or opaque ware, we have seen that they are broadly distinguished as translucent plumbiferous or alkaline, opaque stanniferous, and salt glaze. The distinction is also to be observed between glaze and enamel, although they are often confounded. Thus, according to M. Brongniart, there are three kinds of glaze—varnish, enamel, and couverte—all of which are vitrifiable. Varnish he describes as a transparent and plumbiferous material, melting at a lower temperature than that required for baking the paste; enamel, an opaque, generally stanniferous (containing tin) substance; couverte, a substance which melts at a temperature equal to that required for baking the paste. Birch, on the other hand, draws a distinction between glaze and enamel. In one place he speaks of “opaque glasses or enamels,” and again, “among the Egyptians and Assyrians, enamelling was used more frequently than glazing.” So, also, Fortnum, who, dividing pottery into soft and hard, subdivides the former into unglazed, lustrous, glazed, and enamelled. The glazed he again divides into silicious, or glass-glazed, and plumbeous, or lead-glazed, both of which are transparent. The word “glaze” is thus{64} more correctly applied to the covering, which does not alter the color of the body upon which it is laid, and “enamel” to that which obscures the body.

Glass, or silicious glaze, is formed by fusing sand with an alkali—potash or soda. When to this is added the oxide of lead, transparent plumbiferous glaze is the result; and when to both of these oxide of tin is added, we have opaque stanniferous enamel. The glass and plumbeous glazes may be colored with a variety of other oxides, without losing their transparency.

When or where glaze was first applied to clay is not known. Like many other branches of knowledge and many nations, it has its roots in the East, but whether we are indebted for it to India, Egypt, or Assyria, cannot now be decided. Upon this question Dr. Birch says:

“The desire of rendering terra-cotta less porous, and of producing vases capable of retaining liquids, gave rise to the covering it with a vitreous enamel or glaze. The invention of glass has been hitherto generally attributed to the Phœnicians; but opaque glasses or enamels, as old as the eighteenth dynasty, and enamelled objects as early as the fourth (B.C. 3000-2000), have been found in Egypt. The employment of copper to produce a brilliant blue-colored enamel was very early both in Babylonia and Assyria, but the use of tin for a white enamel, as recently discovered in the enamelled bricks and vases of Babylonia and Assyria, anticipated by many centuries the rediscovery of that process in Europe in the fifteenth century, and shows the early application of metallic oxides. This invention apparently remained for many centuries a secret among the Eastern nations only, enamelled terra-cotta and glass forming articles of commercial export from Egypt and Phœnicia to every part of the Mediterranean. Among the Egyptians and Assyrians enamelling was used more frequently than glazing, and their works are consequently a kind of faience, consisting of a loose frit or body, to which an enamel adheres after only a slight fusion. After the fall of the Roman Empire the art of enamelling terra-cotta disappeared among the Arab and Moorish races, who had retained a traditional knowledge of the process. The application of a transparent vitreous coating, or glaze, over the entire surface, like the varnish of a picture, is also referable to a high antiquity, and was universally adopted either to enhance the beauty of{65} single colors or to promote the combination of many. Innumerable fragments and remains of glazed vases, fabricated by the Greeks and Romans, not only prove the early use of glazing, but also exhibit, in the present day, many of the noblest efforts of the potter’s art.”

The use of oxides is also very ancient. The Egyptians employed that of copper for the production of their turquoise-blue, and possibly also for their green, manganese for violet, iron or silver for yellows, etc. The same processes were known in Babylon and Assyria. To the Persians and Arabians the application of metallic lustres was known at a very early period. Plumbiferous, or lead-glaze, was employed by the Babylonians, and the knowledge of its composition was in all probability imported thence among the Greeks, and by them may have been carried into Southern Italy.

The course of enamel is equally difficult of definition. Although used in Egypt, Babylon, and Assyria, it does not appear to have supplanted the lead-glaze; and for a long period all traces of it are lost, until it reappeared among the Arabs. We next meet with it as a distinctive characteristic of the potteries of Spain. It was also known to the Saracenic and Moorish potters of Sicily, and from either of these sources may have found its way into Italy.{66}

HAVING thus glanced at the different wares, and learned the composition of the leading kinds of paste and glaze, the attention is next attracted by the processes of preparing the materials, and the different methods of manufacture. The levigation of kaolin and making of porcelain have already been touched upon incidentally. The subject of the present chapter naturally divides itself into the following heads:

To what has been said about the preparation of English and Chinese kaolin pastes, little need be added. There is, however, a peculiarity about the Japanese custom not unworthy of notice. In that country the raw material, whether kaolin, quartz, or felspar, is reduced to a powder by a horizontal balancing pounder of primitive construction, and worked by water-power. Two long beams are joined together at one end by an iron-cased crossbar, and a trough is attached to the other. This frame is then erected near a stream, so that the water will fall into the trough. The weight of the water carries the trough down, and the other end is raised to a corresponding height. When the trough has fallen so far that, by reason of the{67} slope, the water runs out and thus takes off the weight at that end, the iron-shod beam at the other descends, and falling into a stone mortar in which the raw material has been placed, in a very short time pulverizes it. The above is the only machine employed by the Japanese. After being pulverized, the paste is sifted, mixed with water, and decanted, and the water is finally drained off through matting and sand. The fine clay to be used in making porcelain is deposited on the mat.

For the old Sèvres soft porcelain, the frit was crushed, cleared of salts, and ground in water. The paste was then mixed with the other ingredients, as previously given in the table.

To prepare clay for making earthen-ware or stone-ware, machines are now generally used. That for the coarser kind of wares, such as bricks or common stone-ware jars, is a pug-mill (Figs. 21 and 22). The clay, having been brought by water to a certain workable consistency, is put into the mill. This is simply a cylindrical box, with blades projecting from the inside, and having in the centre a shaft also armed with blades. By the revolving of the shaft the clay is worked into a perfect pulp, and in that condition issues from a hole in the lower end of the mill. Should any hard substance have resisted the knives, it is removed by hand.

For the finer kinds of earthen-ware, into the composition of which pipe-clay, kaolin, quartz, and felspar enter, the ingredients are mixed in a “blunger.” This machine is not unlike a steam butter churn, there being a shaft passing from end to end, in exactly the same way, and{68} armed with similar paddles. Water is added to the ingredients, and, as the blunger turns, these are all thoroughly mixed into a “slip,” which is drawn off at the bottom. It is then strained and finally passed through a pug-mill, and is ready for use.

Piccolpasso, or the Cavaliere Cipriano Piccolpasso Durantino, who wrote in Italy, in 1548, gives very minute information regarding the processes of the potters of his time and country. The clay was either washed down by rivers or taken from pits. In the former case it was taken from the river-bed when the water was low, and was placed in holes in the ground, either after or without being dried in the sun. The object of keeping it was to allow all impurities to pass off. Where there were no rivers, a series of pits was dug in any convenient hollow, and connected by a channel. The earth was washed down by the rain into these pits, and purified by the passage from one to another. In some cases it was found necessary to place the earth on sieves exposed to the rain, through which the finer particles were washed into receivers placed below. Instead of using a pug-mill, the Italian potters put the earth upon a table, where it was beaten with an iron instrument, and thoroughly kneaded and cleaned by hand.

The next process is the formation or shaping of the vessel. This may be done either by moulding or by “throwing” upon the potter’s wheel. Both of these methods are very ancient. The Egyptians used moulds in making bricks before they resorted to the use of fire for baking them. Their lamps, etc., also give evidence of having been moulded. The Greeks used modelling tools for their ornaments, and also for pithoi, or casks. Afterward moulding was resorted to, and by that means the potter made certain parts of the vases—the handles and feet, for example, and also the ornaments. The entire vessel was sometimes produced by moulding, such as the rhyta, or drinking-cups, with terminations in the form of animals’ heads. Amphoræ, cups, saucers, and vases of many shapes were formed by the same process.

We must refer to Piccolpasso again for the manner in which the Italian potters moulded. Like the Greeks, they appear first to have moulded the parts, such as the handles, which were fixed to the body after it was fashioned. They then, again like the Greeks, began to imitate metal vessels, and thus were brought directly to the process of moulding upon their models, or shaped pieces ornamented in relief.{69} The moulds were made of plaster of Paris, and, when ready, the clay was worked into a cylindrical shape, and sliced by drawing a wire across it. The thickness of the slice was regulated and made uniform by pieces of wood placed at either side of the lump of clay. A slice was then taken and pressed into the mould, and another for the other side into the other half of the mould. Any excess appearing over the edges was cut away. The feet were similarly moulded, and subsequently fixed to the body by means of a composition of clay and fine wool cuttings. In making vases or ewers, moulds were made for both sides, and joined at the front and back. A wire was used to cut off the superfluous clay, and the two pieces were joined together with the composition above mentioned. The handle was fastened on by the same means.

Moulds are at the present day used in every branch of the art, from the lowest to the highest. Drain-pipes are made in a cylindrical mould, with a smaller and solid cylinder inside. The clay is pressed between the two concentric cylinders. In making earthen-ware, the clay is sometimes rolled out and spread upon a block of the desired shape. In making plates, the clay is spread over a round block, and moulded by a form pressed down from above. When plaster of Paris is used, the process is very like that described by Piccolpasso. The mould is in two parts, into each of which the clay is pressed. The two pieces are then brought together, and the seams joined. Or a plaster mould may be used, into which the paste is poured in a liquid state. The absorption of the liquid by the plaster soon gives the clay sufficient consistency to take the necessary shape. Subsequent shrinkage allows its removal from the mould. After a partial drying, the ware is dressed or “shaved.” The process is a very delicate one, especially in the finer kinds of ware, in which a finely polished surface is necessary. The piece is placed on a lathe, and cut to the necessary thickness, and receives its ornamental lines, or has the mouldings applied. The handles are then attached, and, after drying, the piece is ready for the kiln.

The moulding of porcelain requires very great care, on account of the fragility of many of the pieces. In Japan, clay moulds were exclusively used until within the past three years. After being thrown or moulded, and slightly dried, the pieces are shaped by means of{70} sharp metal instruments in the same lathe on which the throwing is done. A coat of pure white clay is then laid on for the purpose of enhancing the beauty and heightening the effect of the color. This having been done, the piece is ready for the preliminary firing. When large pieces are made, the European method is to pour the necessary thickness of slip over the inside of the mould, against the side of which it is kept by means of forcing air into the interior, after covering the surface, or exhausting the air through the mould. When sufficiently dry to support its own weight, the piece is fired.

Fig. 23.—A Potter in Palestine.

The other method of forming the wares is technically called “throwing” upon the potter’s wheel, and is suitable for all circular{71} vessels, or those with modifications of the circular shape. The process is very simple. A piece of clay, large or small, as required, is thrown down on the revolving disk, and, as it whirls round, is formed by the potter’s hand into the requisite shape. The potter’s wheel is one of the oldest mechanical appliances in existence. Its invention was due to the desire of remedying the irregularities of handiwork, and as such was a valuable and in every way wonderful achievement. It brought symmetry and all the varieties of circular form within the potter’s reach. Its inventor is unknown. The prehistoric vases of Greece were made upon the wheel. It was used in Egypt at least four thousand years ago. In Assyria, and among the Jews, its use is attested by the frequent reference made to it in Scripture.

It is curious to find a modern traveller, Dr. W. M. Thomson, speaking thus in “The Land and the Book” of the potter of Palestine. “I have been out on the shore again examining a native manufactory of pottery, and was delighted to find the whole Biblical apparatus complete, and in full operation. There was the potter sitting at his ‘frame,’ and turning the ‘wheel’ with his foot (Fig. 23). He had a heap of prepared clay near him, and a pan of water by his side. Taking a lump in his hand, he placed it on the top of the wheel (which revolves horizontally) and smoothed it into a low cone, like the upper end of a sugar-loaf; then, thrusting his thumb into the top of it, he opened a hole down through the centre, and this he constantly widened by pressing the edges of the revolving cone between his hands. As it enlarged and became thinner, he gave it whatever shape he pleased with the utmost ease and expedition.”

Fig. 24.—An Egyptian Pottery. (From a Tomb.) a, e, i, p, the wheels on which the clay was put. (Fig. 1 forms the inside and lip of the cup as it turns on the wheel a. b, c, d are cups already made. (Fig. 2 forms the outside of the cup, indenting it with the hand at the base, preparatory to its being taken off. (Fig. 3 has just taken off the cup from the clay, l. (Fig. 4 puts on a fresh piece of clay. (Fig. 5 forms a round slab of clay with his two hands. (Fig. 6 stirs and prepares the oven, q. At s is the fire, which rises through the long, narrow tube or chimney of the oven, upon the top of which the cups are placed to bake, as in v. (Fig. 7 hands the cup to the baker, 8. Fig. 9 carries away the baked cups from the oven.

The entire process of making clay vessels in Egypt has been preserved in a scene depicted in a tomb (Fig. 24). The clay was first trampled underfoot to give it evenness of consistency and make it more perfectly plastic. It was then prepared for working by being rolled out, and was then put on the wheel. The latter was either round or polygonal and flat. It was placed upon a stand, and was turned with one hand, while with the other the potter shaped the clay, and, as he worked, sat either upon a low stool or upon the ground. Both the hollowing and external shaping were done by hand. The furnaces were hollow cylinders, about six and a half feet high, in which the wares to be baked were placed about half-way up. An{72} aperture at the bottom admitted draught sufficient to drive the flames out of the top of the furnace. Among the Greeks the wheel was also employed at a very early period, so early that its inventor or introducer is forgotten. One of the Grecian legends ascribes the honor to{73} Dædalus, an Athenian of royal descent, and inventor of the wedge, axe, and other mechanical contrivances. Another legend ascribes it to Talos, the nephew of Dædalus, whose murder compelled the latter to seek safety in flight. To whatever individual or city the credit may be due, the wheel was used by Grecian potters from time immemorial. They turned it with the foot—as did the Egyptians also at one period—and it appears that the turning was sometimes left to an assistant. The process was almost identical with that described above. The clay was placed upon the wheel and shaped by the hand, and when the vessel was of so large a size as to make it necessary, one hand supported and shaped the clay from the inside. In this way the body of the vessel was made, and before the clay dried, the feet, handles, and other parts were fixed to it. Before the wheel was known, the vessels were hollowed out and shaped by the hand, and the larger vessels were subsequently made in the same way.

It is said that the potter’s wheel was invented in Japan, in the year 724, by a priest named Giyoki, and the event at once raised the potter’s art into very high estimation. In Arita, the wheel consists of a fly-wheel and revolving disk, the latter placed about a foot above the former, and connected with it by a hollow wooden prismatic axle. In the centre of the working disk, and between the three sides of the prism, a hollow piece of porcelain is inserted. The whole is then placed upon a pointed stick fixed firmly in the ground, in such a way that the entire weight is supported upon the point of the upright wood. As that point comes in contact with the inserted porcelain, friction is reduced to a minimum. Vessels of any size can be thrown in this way—from the huge basin three feet in diameter to the smallest work which the potter’s hand has shaped. A driving cord is employed for turning the wheel when very large pieces are being made.

The Italians of the sixteenth century used the wheel in the same way, fashioning the clay with the hands and certain tools of wood and iron (Fig. 25).

It would thus appear that the potter’s wheel improved in due course of time. At first it was merely a horizontal revolving disk turned by hand; then it consisted of a three-feet shaft with the disk on the top, and a driving-wheel below to be turned by the potter’s foot; later still, it was turned by means of a foot-board, like that of{74} a turning-lathe or printing-press; afterward the driving-wheel was separated from the disk which it turned by means of a connecting rope or band, and was worked by an assistant; more recently, steam has been brought in to the saving of labor, and in many large factories is the chief power used.

It is almost unnecessary to add that when throwing was resorted to in place of moulding, the subsequent operations of shaving, polishing, and attaching the handles and ornaments were performed in the same manner as that described above.

We now reach the third process, that of baking or firing. Sun-dried bricks have been found in nearly every part of the world. They were introduced into Spain by the Arabs, and in the New World have been found from Mexico to Peru. In Egypt they represent the earliest works of the potter; and from that country, Assyria, and Babylonia, relics of the rudest stage of the art of working in clay have reached our own time. The climate of Egypt was such that unbaked bricks were sufficiently lasting for architectural purposes, and walls, tombs, and entire pyramids were constructed of them. The use of sun-dried clay was restricted in Assyria to bricks and small figures of an apparently religious character. In Babylon, as in Assyria, similar bricks were used as foundations for buildings. Among the Greeks sun-dried clay was widely employed. Many of their temples and the walls of some of their fortified cities were constructed of bricks dried in the sun. Even statues and models were made of unbaked clay.

The kind of furnace in use among the Egyptians at a very early period has already been described. No remnant of those used by the Greeks has been discovered, and all the information regarding them has been derived from representations on pottery or gems. A tolerably correct idea of the more ancient ones may be conveyed by describing them as tall baker’s ovens, into which the wares were pushed{75} and baked like loaves. There are several vases now in existence upon which furnaces of this kind are depicted. A kylix from Vulci, and now at Munich, is remarkable for the scene depicted on it. One of the epigrammata of Homer, entitled [Greek: ‘O Kaminos ‘Ο Καμινς]—“The Furnace,” has been translated by Cowper. The explanatory preface is attributed to Herodotus.

“Certain potters, while they were busied in baking their ware, seeing Homer at a small distance, and having heard much said of his wisdom, called to him, and promised him a present of their commodity—and of such other things as they could afford—if he would sing to them, when he sang as follows:

The scene on the kylix at Munich is supposed to represent Homer among the potters. The furnace is on the extreme right, and has a{76} tall chimney. The fire is seen below. In front of it is a man who has apparently been placing a vase in the oven, and behind him comes another carrying what may be a large jar on his shoulder. The next figure is that of Homer, holding a staff; behind him is a vase, and a youth carrying another vessel toward the furnace. The next group shows the operation of “throwing,” a boy turning the wheel while an old man shapes the vessel. On the left is a young man sitting and holding on his knees a vase to which he seems to be attaching the handle. The entire composition is interesting, since—assuming the old man with the crook to be Homer, and not the proprietor of the pottery—it illustrates a poem which shows how widely, even at the early age in which the poet lived, the various operations in making vases were understood. For our present purpose, however, attention is chiefly directed to the furnace.

The furnaces described by Piccolpasso as in use among the Italians were of three kinds, one for oxidizing the tin and lead, a second for baking glazed ware, and a third for majolica proper, or lustred ware. In the first the furnace was rectangular, and was divided into two parts, one of which was occupied by the fire, the other by the tray for the metals. The latter was raised to such a height that the flames could play upon the metals as they passed over them to the opening at the other side. The baking furnace was also rectangular, and was built of brick. It was divided by a perforated arch into an upper and lower compartment. In the upper division the wares were placed. It had four openings on either side and nine in the roof. Under the lower chamber was the ash-pit, and each chamber had a door at one end. At Castel-Durante the usual dimensions of a furnace were six feet in height and length, and five in width. At Venice their dimensions were sometimes double those above stated. The wares were arranged according to their quality. Seggars—circular or oval cases of infusible fire-clay, bottomed, but without covers, and perforated—were used for those of fine quality. The seggars, which may be seen piled one above another in Fig. 28 and on the lower right hand of Fig. 29, were placed as in the first of these engravings, the bottom of the one above acting as a lid to that next below; and the coarser wares were arranged in rows between the piles of seggars. The openings having been partially closed, the fire was applied{77} below, and kept up for about twelve hours, when the first firing was finished. The majolica furnace will be described hereafter.

Among the Japanese the kilns are arranged in a peculiar manner. That in which the first firing is done is a small furnace, used only previous to the painting. The oxide of cobalt, which is more extensively employed than any other, is laid upon the white clay coating, and the piece is then glazed, usually in a compound of felspath and wood-ashes. The second firing then takes place. The kilns are built in terraced rows of from four to twenty, and rise about three feet above each other, growing larger in size as they extend up the hill. The ground-plan is trapezoidal, and the walls rise vertically for a few feet, and are then rounded off into an arch. The front wall, looking toward the lower end of the row, is pierced with holes near the ground, and others are made in the back wall at about three feet above the ground, so as to open directly upon the floor of the next kiln above. The draught in this way rushes through the entire row toward the chimneys behind the largest and uppermost kiln. The fuel is thrown directly into the kiln, and not into a fireplace. It is arranged along the lower side in a narrow space divided from the rest of the kiln by fire-clay slabs set upright. The fire begins in a furnace attached to the lowest kiln. The hot air rushes through the air-holes into the next kiln, which is thus heated before its own firing begins, and so on throughout the entire range, the kilns furthest up the line having thus to stand the highest temperature. Each one has the benefit of the heat of all the lower ones. The Japanese do not make any extensive use of seggars. To keep the pieces free from dust or falling particles of the vault, the inside of each kiln is glazed before the firing begins. The pieces are placed one above another upon fire-clay stands. The small kilns for the preliminary firing are in the potter’s yard, but the kilns above described belong to the community, and are rented to the manufacturers.{78}

Fig. 28.—Porcelain Kiln.

The kilns in use in America and Europe vary very much in shape. M. Brongniart gives representations of three—that for common pottery (Fig. 26), that for hard pottery (Fig. 27), and that for porcelain (Fig. 28). Those used in England often take the shape of a low, vaulted chamber, with the fire at one end, the chimney at the other, and the firing chamber between. In the United States, the usual shape for both earthen-ware and stone-ware is conical, not unlike a ball-cartridge. The common pottery kiln is divided, by means of baked plates, into cells, in which the wares are placed. The length of time during which they are kept in the furnace varies according to the nature of the ware. It may be twenty-four hours or, as in the case of fine stone-ware, several days. For some wares, seggars are used in place of the open cells; and the arrangement of{79} the seggars may be seen in the porcelain kiln. When, in the case of non-vitrifying earthen-ware, a combination of firing and glazing in one operation is not practicable, the ware is kept at a white-heat for about thirty-six hours; and on the kiln cooling, the pieces then known as “biscuit” are removed for glazing. This operation consists of dipping it into the glaze, composed as previously mentioned, ground to a powder, and mixed with water until of the right consistency. The second firing melts the glaze, and covers the surface with a thin, transparent coating. The Italian potters gradually increased the heat for four hours, and allowed the ware to remain at a white-heat for twelve hours, and then to cool. Porcelain is fired according to its composition. For English porcelain, the first firing lasts about fifty hours; the second firing, after the glaze is applied, lasts about twenty hours or less, at a lower temperature. Soft-paste or artificial French porcelain takes from eighty to a hundred hours for the first, and thirty for the second, firing. The greatest caution is demanded in placing the pieces in the seggars and in regulating the heat. The chief peculiarity about the making of porcelain is that the glaze fluxes with the paste, and forms, with it, a translucent whole.

Mr. Isaac Broome, of Trenton, has invented a new kiln, of which an engraving is here given (Fig. 29). An equal distribution and perfect regulation of the heat are the features which commend it to attention.

Very little more need be said here about the preparation and application{80} of the glaze, and that little can be included in what requires to be added about the laying on of the colors. The Italians worked in the following manner: The biscuit having been dipped in the enamel bath, was allowed to dry, and was then painted and again dried. The piece was then dipped in the transparent glaze, and, having been for a third time dried, was ready for the final firing. Piccolpasso gives much minute instruction regarding the preparation of the colors and manner of painting, which must here be omitted. What he says about painting majolica, or lustred ware, is, however, interesting. The parts to receive the metallic-lustre pigment were sketched in outline, and left white when the other colors were applied. After the piece was fired the lustre pigments were laid on, and the piece was again placed in the kiln. For this purpose a special kiln was necessary. It was built with a square fire chamber intersected by two arches, on which was placed a circular chamber large enough to touch the four sides of the square kiln, but necessarily leaving the four corners uncovered. This chamber was perforated in all directions, in order to admit the flames to direct contact with the wares. Dry willow branches were used for the first three hours, and then dry broom was thrown on the fire, which was kept up for another hour. The kiln having cooled, the pieces were removed, soaked in soap-and-water, washed, rubbed dry with flannel, and then polished with wood-ash and flannel. The object of the process is obvious. The flames being allowed to play directly upon the wares, the carbon in the smoke decomposed the salts contained in the metallic oxide, and the metal was left glittering and iridescent upon the surface.

The Japanese porcelain painted under the glaze with the oxide of cobalt has been already described. Other qualities are painted over the glaze with colored enamels made from glass (or silica, litharge, and nitre) and white-lead. The coloring oxides are gold for carmine, copper, antimony, manganese, red oxide of iron, and oxide of cobalt. These are mixed and applied directly by the painter without any previous preparation, so that the colors do not show themselves until brought out by the fire. The method of decoration is peculiar. The design is first sketched in black lines, with strokes for the shades. When the enamel colors are opaque, they are laid on thinly; when translucent or resembling colored glass, so that the design appears{81} under, they are laid on more thickly. Occasionally a white opaque enamel—but containing no admixture of tin—is first applied, and the colors are laid upon it.

Stone-ware is very seldom glazed by a “dip.” The usual method is to combine the firing and glazing. When the ware has been exposed to the maximum heat for the necessary time, salt is thrown into the kiln. The heat vaporizes the salt, and of its constituent parts one, the chlorine, escapes; while the other, the soda, is, on coming in contact with the silex in the red-hot ware, formed into a silicate of soda, a perfectly transparent and intensely hard glaze.

In regard to the colors, the only ones now known which will bear the first firing—couleurs de grand feu—and are therefore put on before glazing, are blue from cobalt, browns from iron, manganese, and chromate of iron, green from chrome, and yellows from titanium and uranium. Between these and the more delicate couleurs de moufle, or enamel colors, are violets, reds, and browns from manganese, copper, and iron, which are designated as couleurs au demi grand feu. Beyond these, the colors used in decorating hard or natural porcelain are laid on the glaze, to which they adhere without incorporating themselves.

The great difficulties attending the manufacture of porcelain may now be estimated. The piece must pass through the kiln as many times as there are colors requiring different temperatures. Too much heat will blot out the delicate colors, too little will leave them dull. Those on artificial or soft porcelain sink into the glaze, and thus present a softness and creamy delicacy never seen on any other kind of ware.

The results are generally a sufficient reward for the difficulty of the process. This is altogether exceptional in the case of pate tendre. As its alkaline ingredients volatilize at a certain heat, the fire must be stopped before that temperature is reached. The glaze, also alkaline, is then applied in the form of dust, and not, as with hard porcelain, in the form of a dip. The second firing melts the glaze. If the heat be too strong, the alkalies will fly off; if too weak, the surface will be uneven. For a third time the same danger is incurred, when the firing for fixing the colors takes place.{82}

TO the Orient we look for the birthplace of man, and in it we also find the cradle of Art. How it spread eastward to China and westward to Egypt, we may not be able, with precise accuracy, to tell; but this we know, that in and between these two countries the ceramic art had been carried to a lofty eminence long before Europe had awakened from barbaric slumber. Western history was, in fact, scarcely beginning, when Eastern civilization was in one direction fading, and in another was tottering to its fall.

In beginning with Egypt, the most ancient relics of primitive art pass first in review. To that wonderful country, long hidden under a thick cloud of mystery, we must, in fact, first turn, no matter what may be the subject demanding investigation. It had reached antiquity before the oldest countries of the West were born. In the ceramic art, it appears as the centre from which radiated the two great branches, many centuries afterward converging in Southern Europe. On the one hand is the silicious-glazed pottery, which, after moving eastward, reached Europe in a slightly altered form; on the other{83} is the glazed and unglazed terra-cotta, which the Greeks took up and carried forward to a new and higher perfection. Egypt thus appears as the fountain-head of ancient art. The progress it made toward comparative perfection will be hereafter referred to. Meantime it may be pointed out, that, while fortunate in one respect, Egypt was unfortunate in another. The banks of the Nile gave a never-failing supply of pure and plastic clay, admirably suited to all the purposes of the potter. When the periodical inundations took place, they left a deposit of exceptionally pure silt extending from the banks of the river to the furthest margin of the flood. The material was thus ready to the potter’s hand. The counter disadvantage was the absence of the materials required for the finest ware, or their presence in such form as scarcely to suggest their combination. The Egyptians appear to have carried their ceramic art to a full development at a very remote stage of their history, or, in other words, they soon arrived at the point beyond which they never passed. The limitation laid upon them was that of material. The result of this is shown by the other directions in which their art branched off. It seemed impossible to accomplish anything in clay to vie with the precious metals and stones. For purposes of ornament, therefore, clay was discarded. It was worked by slaves (Fig. 30), and fashioned into domestic vessels and bricks; and when the nearest approach to porcelain was made, then only do we meet with ornamental works, or those of a more strictly artistic character.

Their religion also appears to have deadened their ambition to reach a higher excellence. There were two periods in their art history. In studying the works belonging to the first, the observer will frequently be impressed by the desire evinced to follow the forms offered by nature for imitation. Such is the most striking characteristic of what may be called the first school. It aimed at the reproduction of natural forms in the most literal manner. Afterward, when the emblematic school took its rise, the forms were still those of nature, with a religious or spiritual significance superadded. The idea is evidently fatal to art, that it can climb to nothing higher than the figure symbolical of a god. In their efforts toward the production of what was graceful and beautiful, the Egyptians are not, however, to be despised. Before foreign influences made themselves felt, the{84} Egyptian forms were simple, and frequently displayed ideas of beauty which, if ruder than those of the Greeks, are independent. The Egyptians were necessarily original. They had no predecessors whose works they could copy; and in appealing to nature for models, they took the only course open to them. From their originality the Greeks borrowed and improved upon their models, and it is in this view of{85} its being a starting-point for subsequent art that Egyptian pottery demands careful study.

Fig. 30.—Foreign Captives making Bricks in Egypt. 1, Man returning from carrying load; 2, 7, and 10 carry the clay, after it has been dug by 9, 11, 12, and 13, and throw it down at 7 and j, for the brickmakers, 8 and 16; 4 and 5 carry them away to the drying-place or furnace; 3 and 6 are taskmasters; 14 and 15 are carrying water from the tank, h. At c and a are inscriptions to the effect that the bricks were so made for the Temple of Amun-Ra, at Thebes.

It is indispensable, in order to understand the highest forms of the art in Egypt, that something should be known of its religion. In that strange land we find an answer—possibly the first—to the question,

According to Bunsen, “the mythological system proceeded from ‘the concealed god,’ Ammon, to the creating god. The latter appears first of all as the generative power of nature in the Phallic god Khem, who is afterward merged into Ammon-ra. Then sprung up the idea of a creative power in Kneph. He forms the limbs of Osiris (the primitive soul) in contradistinction to Ptah, who, as the strictly demiurgic principle, forms the visible world. Neith is the creative principle as nature represented under a female form. Finally her son, Ra Helios, appears as the last of the series in the character of father and nourisher of terrestrial things. It is he whom an ancient monument represents as the demiurgic principle creating the mundane egg.” At the head of this Pantheon stands Ammon, the concealed and invisible. The other figures are personifications of his attributes, and appear as separate and individual gods. In order to make the theogony intelligible to the people, these gods are represented by symbols. There is thus a regular gradation from the symbol to the divine attribute, and thence to the Unknown Greatest. It is the sublimity of paganism, presenting us with one god carrying on the infinite works of the universe by means of his various attributes. The symbols were chosen from nature, and are generally expressive, if not always dignified. Firstly, as to the symbols proper, the lotus and scarabæus may be mentioned as of most frequent occurrence. The former, the sacred flower, is often met with in connection with the figures of the divinities, and symbolizes the beneficence of nature’s revivifying powers, water and heat. The scarabæus (Fig. 31) is the symbol of creation, and when represented with out-spread wings, of immortality. It may appear singular that a loathsome insect should thus have been honored, but the explanation is simple. It is to be found in the habits of the insect itself. Placing its egg in a ball, it{86} buried the latter in the sand, where it was hatched by the rays of the sun, and the ball opening with the breaking of the egg, the young insect appeared. It was to the Egyptian a perfect symbol of creation, and hence of the creative god Phtha. When found with outstretched wings, it is an ornament of the dead, and symbolizes the apparent circuit of the sun setting at night to rise in the morning. Thus the sun of life sets in death to reappear in immortality, as the scarabæus, under the influence of its divine warmth, breaks from its egg into insect life. The sun was the symbol of Ra, the sun-god, “the father and nourisher of terrestrial things.” In representing the gods, the figures selected were to a great extent arbitrary. The Egyptians honored themselves by discovering that in the humblest form of nature there was something worthy of honor. They accordingly took the plants and animals of their land and wove them into their religion, by adopting a system of natural symbols too intricate to be here given in detail. The following may, however, be found useful:

The vulture was the symbol of divine maternity, because thought to conceive spontaneously; and hence Souvan, the mother of all, is represented with a vulture’s head. This single instance furnishes a key to the system. The symbol is chosen which most nearly represents the principle, and thus becomes a part of the embodied form of the deity possessing the principle as his or her peculiar attribute. The dog and jackal were emblems of Anubis, the guardian of the tombs, and the deity presiding over embalmment. The scarabæus was the emblem of the demiurgic god Phtha. The lion was also the emblem of Phtha and of the goddess Pasht. Cynocephali were emblems of Chous and Thoth.

Throughout the entire system, the birds, fishes, land animals, and plants of Egypt, the hawk, vulture, ibis, uræi snakes, the cat, pig, cow, and so on, are all used as symbols. It will be sufficient now to glance at the converse, and note the forms under which the deities are represented.{87} Ra, the sun-god, appears with the head of a hawk; Athor, the Egyptian Venus, with horns and ears of a cow; Anubis with head of a jackal; Thoth with head of an ibis; Amun-ra, a man with solar disk on head, and plumed; Mut, the mother goddess, crowned; Chous, sou of Amun-ra and Mut, with moon disk, occasionally hawk-headed; Phtha with scarabæus on head, sometimes with two heads, one of which is that of a hawk; Pasht, Bast, and Tafne are all lion-headed goddesses; Her has a lion’s head; Taur appears as a hippopotamus; Osiris sits enthroned with the cap of truth, and holds a staff and scourge; Isis, like the Roman Luna or Diana, appears in two forms, sitting as a terrestrial goddess, suckling Horus or kneeling, or sitting in her celestial character, with disk and horns, nursing her son Horus.

Fig. 32.—Egyptian Gods. (Way Coll., Boston Museum of Fine Arts.)

We are now in a position to give names to the group (Fig. 32), each piece in which is of the blue or green glazed pottery to be noticed hereafter. It may be said, however, that no engraving could give an idea of the exquisite finish of these pieces, especially of the two in the middle. The lower central figure is the plumed Amun.{88} It is turquoise-blue, and is one and three-quarter inches in height. The upper central figure is the lion-headed Pasht, surmounted by the solar disk and the asp. To the left is ibis-headed Thoth, a flat figure intended to be sewn into a mummy covering. On the right are Isis and Nepthys, with Horus between them. From the combination of symbols, the study of the mythology of the Egyptians as found illustrated on their pottery is of deep interest, and of great importance both to the ceramist and the student of the science of religion.

The ceramic productions of Egypt are divisible into two great classes, unglazed and glazed.

Unglazed Pottery.—This may again be divided into the unbaked, or sun-dried, and baked. Of these the former is unquestionably the more ancient, and Egypt is one of the three countries whose sun-dried pottery has lasted until the present time. Unbaked bricks are the oldest examples. Some of those discovered recall the bondage and wrongs of the Israelites under the “new king over Egypt which knew not Joseph.” The command of Pharaoh will be remembered: “Ye shall no more give the people straw to make brick as heretofore; let them go and gather straw for themselves.” The straw was used to bind them together. They were moulded generally in a rectangular shape, and were extensively used in the construction of pyramids of various ages. They vary in size in different edifices, and are marked according to their composition or destined use. In the former case, the marks were used merely to distinguish the quality; in the latter, the marks indicate either the individual’s tomb in the construction of which they were to be employed, or the king in whose reign they were made for public buildings. The whole process can be studied in the engraving (Fig. 30). The stamp for bricks was not used until the fifteenth century before the Christian era.

The vessels of unbaked clay which have been preserved are few{89} in number, and are either religious in character, or devoted to sepulchral uses. The ornamentation is of the simplest kind.

Egypt was exceptionally favored by nature for advancing in the potter’s art. The Nile mud was abundant and plastic, and was suitable for either moulding or throwing. Specimens of baked earthen-ware (Fig. 33) have accordingly been found belonging to a very remote period. They represent the second step in the manufacture, which was reached nearly three thousand years before our era. From the tombs of that period have been exhumed vessels of various kinds, such as were employed by the Egyptians in their households; and taking these as a starting-point, the art can be traced to its decline under imported ideas and foreign domination. This ware is mostly of a dull red color, verging at times toward purple or yellow, according to the temperature at which it was baked. The baked bricks were of the same red color. They were used, apparently, for purposes for which the less lasting unbaked bricks were not suitable, but were not generally employed. Of the same material coffins, although rare, have also been found. Many of the objects connected with the Egyptian customs regarding the burial of the dead were made of this clay. Among these were the cones (Fig. 34), with inscriptions in hieroglyphics stamped on the base, and giving the name of the deceased. They indicate the resting-places of many civil and ecclesiastical functionaries—clerks or scribes, priests, chamberlains, soldiers, and seldom of women. They appear to have fallen into desuetude in the sixth century before our era. Figures have also been found in the sepulchres of a later period. The vases for holding the entrails of the embalmed dead were of the same ware, and bring up for notice a very singular custom. The viscera were divided into four parts, and deposited in separate jars having the shapes of the{90} genii of the Egyptian Hades, Amset, Hapi, Tuautmutf, and Kebhsnuf. The ibis mummy pots belong to the same class. They were used for holding the embalmed body of the sacred bird, and are very frequently of a conical shape, with a slightly convex lid. Of domestic vases in this ware, the shapes and uses are very numerous. Great numbers have been found in the tombs, varying as much in size as in purpose. The latter may often be divined from the shape of the vessel: thus those for liquids are wide-mouthed for convenience in drawing the contents; those for bread and flesh-meats are wider and more shallow. Ointment pots and oil jars are also fashioned in view of their respective purposes.

Another kind of unglazed ware is of a light gray color, and was common to Egypt and some of the countries of Asia. Amphoræ have been found of this material, with long bodies ornamented with horizontal grooves. Of these the larger ones appear to have been intended for liquids, and the smaller ones, some of which are very diminutive, for solids. The bases of the former are pointed, while those of the latter are occasionally rounded. The handles are both small and large, and the necks open or contracted, according to their use. These are well deserving of notice for the sake of comparison with the amphoræ of the Greeks; and for the same reason reference may be made to the vessels with three handles, which were in all probability the prototypes of the Greek hydrai, and to others with only one handle, which were also reproduced in Greece. The former are very frequently oval-bodied, and the position of the handle is arbitrary. The latter were jugs of various shapes, with pointed bases. The further we come down, the more distinct become the proofs of Egypt’s having supplied models to the Grecian potters. It would be impossible to specify all the shapes, but reference may be made to those with handle arching the top from side to side, and of so small a size that they are thought to have been used by children as toys.

The larger vessels, which answered all the purposes of a modern meat-safe, have no handle, and have the usual pointed base for fixing them upright in the floor of the cellar. They taper gradually from the base upward, until their greatest girth is reached, when they curve more suddenly inward to a short neck. From these the forms vary through the intermediate shapes of oval jars, bottles with long necks,{91} and narrow oil vases, to wide bowls or dishes and plates. Reference was made in the introduction to the multitudinous purposes to which clay vessels were put by the Egyptians. They used their ware in many ways which to us appear very primitive and strange—for storing all manner of eatables and drinkables, for cooking and smelting. In fact, whatever one may think of their ideas of beauty in pottery, there can be no doubt that they took a very wide view of its infinite usefulness.

Decoration of a simple kind is occasionally found on both domestic and sepulchral vessels. Colored bands were the usual ornament, and very rarely the entire body was painted with a ground color upon which bands were laid, and the whole was then varnished. It is rarely that a leaf or lotus flower is found. The use of varnish points to a step in advance. It has not yet been determined whether it is really varnish or a glaze applied by firing, but in either case it is found upon the finer and harder kinds of ware. The body color is black, brown, or red, of different shades (Fig. 36). To this class belong the single and double cruses, generally of pale red paste, but sometimes black, used apparently for holding oil or ointment. The best examples of polished ware are red. They show both ornamentation of a higher order and more artistic shapes than the others. The shape of one of these vases resembles the goddess Isis suckling Horus, in the attitude previously mentioned; another is in the form of a woman playing upon a stringed instrument (Fig. 37); a third is shaped like a fish; and many domestic vessels, cups, jugs, and vases are of the same material.

The Græco-Egyptian pottery forms a distinct class, differing in paste, color, and decoration. The outside shows varying shades of{92} gray and red, and the ornamentation consists of lines and animal and floral forms, in colors capable of standing the kiln. At the same period was introduced the custom of making writing tablets of this ware.

Glazed Ware.—Leaving the unglazed and polished wares, there yet falls to be considered that with an undoubted glaze, to which belong the most artistic works of the Egyptian potters. This is the ware which has been miscalled porcelain (Fig. 38); and as the unglazed ware was never employed for purely ornamental purposes, so we find the glazed seldom used for domestic vessels. Contrary to what might be expected, specimens have been found as old as the Sixth Dynasty, or nearly two thousand years before the Christian era. The ware is not at all close in texture, and the silicious glaze was colored by metallic oxides, of the properties of which the Egyptians had an intimate knowledge. Chief among the colors thus produced are the blue and green, exemplified in some of the finest relics of Egyptian art. Their beauty is occasionally very remarkable, and led to their being highly valued both by the Egyptians and others, and to the ware itself being applied to special purposes of ornamentation. It is found, for example, in the form of tiles as a wall decoration, and as a material for inlaying. Tiles with figures in relief, having parts such as the hair, beard, eyes, or extremities inlaid with glazed ware, are among the most curious specimens discovered. Detached beards are not unlike spirally ribbed hose. Coffins, or mummy cases, are similarly inlaid. The forms the glazed pottery assumes, when employed for this purpose and for figures to be attached to other substances, are very numerous. The moulded ornaments and amulets of both the living and the dead were most frequently of the same material. These take the shape of finger and ear rings (Fig. 39), small images of the gods and of their symbols, and various other ornaments, such as bracelets, necklaces, and{93} hairpins. The nature of the paste leads to the belief that these were more generally devoted to sepulchral purposes, with a religious significance, than to any other. All the minute beads, in a net-work of which the dead were often encased, and also the pectoral or breastplates, were of this material (Fig. 40). In the lower specimen, Ra is represented by the scarab. In the barge, on either side, are Isis and Nepthys. This tablet bears the inscription, “He that is worthy goes over in the barge of Ra.” Of the upper specimen only one-half is preserved, showing the figure of Isis. In the hollow centre has been a scarab, probably of jasper, and in the borders colored stones or glass have been set. The lower border consists of a series of lotus flowers, and the wavy lines represent the water in which they grow. Above was the winged disk of the sun. Figures of the gods and goddesses and their emblems, and sacred animals and plants, which were deposited with the dead, afford some of the most exquisite examples of Egyptian glazed pottery. The images have either a perforated upright support behind, or are otherwise perforated for attachment to the necklaces of the mummies. The scarabæus is very often met with on the breastplates. All these symbols and images were employed for the supposed benefit of the dead, either to save them from evil, or as a direct means of bringing good, and can only be understood through an acquaintance with mythology. Rings of various colors appear properly to belong to the same category of ornaments of the dead. Other sepulchral figures were deposited with the deceased, besides those of the protecting gods. These were supposed to aid the departed in his labors in the future state, and are invariably small representations of a mummied figure, partially covered with hieroglyphics. Like many of the other figures and objects, they are generally of the beautiful Egyptian blue. In the example (Fig. 41) given on the following page, the figure of a bird with human head, appears upon the breast. It is{94} an emblem of the soul leaving or returning to the body. The more usual form is that seen in the central figure in the engraving (Fig. 42), with long beard, a pickaxe and hoe in either hand, and having a cord in the right hand which is crossed to the left, and allows the cord to pass over the left shoulder. At the end of this cord is a bag or basket, which is faintly discernible on the shoulder of the figure on the right. The hieroglyphics are passages from the Ritual, in compliance with which these figures were made. Balls, draughtsmen, and toys were also made of glazed pottery. All the figures and ornaments to which reference has been made were turned out of moulds, the friability of the paste not permitting its being thrown.

For the same reason the glazed vases are diminutive, but often very beautiful, and intended for purely ornamental purposes. They are of different shapes and sizes, generally a few inches in height, and some of them illustrate the peculiar ideas entertained by the Egyptians of personal beauty. One of their customs was that of darkening the eyes with a black powder, sometimes held in a small case resembling a series of reeds. The toilet is otherwise represented by a variety of boxes, jars, bottles, small vases, and oil flasks. The latter are unique, and sometimes elegant in shape, and supply good examples of the greenish glazed-ware to which reference has been made.

Many of the bowls evidently used by the wealthy are of a finer and closer paste, and bear very characteristic ornamentation of flowers, fish, hieroglyphics, or of lines only. Their uses can only be conjectured from their shapes. The inscriptions sometimes point to their owners, and at others to the place of fabrication.

The Egyptians also resorted to a process of glazing vases, figures, rings, and other articles for which pottery was usually employed,{95} made of a variety of hard schists. These, however, as not being properly potter’s ware, are here passed over.

It will thus be seen that the Egyptians did not carry the art to a very high point. They were, however, successful in creating a foreign demand for the productions of their potteries. From discoveries made in Eastern Greece, Nineveh, and elsewhere, it would appear that the fine pottery ornaments of Egypt were in considerable repute in neighboring countries; and, as we shall hereafter see, Egypt contributed its full share to the furtherance of the art by supplying suggestions and models.

One important matter remains to be disposed of. It has long been a subject of doubt whether or not Egypt possessed the secret of stanniferous enamel. It has been already intimated that the discovery of the use of tin for a pottery enamel is due to either that country or Assyria. The honor may probably be ascribed to Egypt. In the loan collection of the Metropolitan Museum of New York is a fragment (Fig. 43) of a vase exhibited in the Egyptian section, and referable to a very remote antiquity, covered with what is apparently tin enamel, bearing purple decorations. Should this be the case, then this solitary fragment will settle the matter, and we must believe that the Egyptians possessed this secret of the art four thousand years ago. In that event, the Assyrians probably acquired it from Egypt. The fact supplies us with the means of arriving at a very clear idea of the grand antiquity of that civilization under which a valuable art was practised, to which Europe was a stranger for more than three thousand five hundred years afterward.{96}

It is, as we have seen, long since the art purely its own reached its culmination. The Egypt of the nineteenth century in this respect scarcely suggests that of the Pyramids. If we were to take that country as it appeared at the Philadelphia Exhibition, we would hardly be prepared to look upon its ceramic products as those of a country in which the art has been practised for four thousand years. A few pieces exhibited were of light, slate-colored body, unglazed, and so brittle that dozens were broken in transit. The ornamentation was laid on the bare surface, and was, as a rule, bright to the verge of gaudiness. The greater portion of the painting was the work of an Italian artist resident in Cairo. Some of the red terra-cotta was more satisfactory; but all that can be said in favor of either kind is that it was, in its way, characteristically Egyptian. One specimen of pale green “porcelain” was sent by the Museum at Cairo. The last is mentioned because it represented the farthest point which the Egyptians reached on the way toward a true porcelain.{97}

Fig. 44.—Pottery found in the Tombs above the Palaces of Nimroud.

Although we have taken Egypt as our starting-point, there may have been a pottery antecedent to that we have considered. Looking farther east for the cradle of the human race, knowledge and art may have spread east and west from the Euphrates, the great river of Babylon. Egypt having been first inhabited by settlers wandering from the province of which that city became the capital, who found in the Nile a river resembling, in many respects, that which they had left, these colonists may have carried with them some knowledge of the uses of clay. However this may be, it is beyond question that the oldest pottery of which the age is known is Egyptian, and that the knowledge acquired from the East was returned with interest.{98}

Fig. 47.—Inscribed Seal. (Assyrian.)     Fig. 48.—Seal of Sabaco and Sennacherib.

Fig. 49.—Impression of Sabaco’s Seal, enlarged.     Fig. 50.—Back of Assyrian Seal, showing Marks of Fingers.

Fig. 51.—Fragment in Porcelain (?). (Nimroud.)

Fig. 52.—Box in Porcelain (?). (Nimroud.)       Fig. 53.—Enamelled Brick. (Louvre.)

Assyria and Babylonia are almost necessarily considered in conjunction. The latter having been a province of Assyria prior to its assertion of independence, we anticipate, what is actually the case, a close similarity between the ceramic productions of the two countries. In tracing the history of their pottery, we not only discover many points of resemblance between it and that of Egypt, but advance along an exactly parallel line. From sun-dried bricks we pass to burnt bricks, thence to unglazed pottery possessed of an artistic character, thence again to glazed specimens and enamel. In both countries unbaked bricks were made use of in the construction of mound-like foundations for buildings. Walls, houses, and tombs were built of similar materials. In Assyria, bricks were sometimes faced with marble, either externally, for the sake of strength, or to give greater beauty to an interior. Some were gilded and others colored. Small figures of both baked and unbaked clay, and of a religious character, were also made by the Assyrians (Fig. 45). From the stamped and baked bricks much has been learned of Assyrian history and topography, the sites of cities and names of{99} kings having been thus discovered or substantiated. By the same people writing tablets of rectangular, cylindrical, or prismatic shapes were very commonly made of terra-cotta (Fig. 46). They form a very curious remnant of ancient literature, which, thanks to the indestructibility of the material upon which it was written, is still open to the{100} study of the historian. All kinds of records have thus been preserved—religious, legal, and astronomical. The Assyrians and Egyptians both used seals (Figs. 47, 48, 49, and 50) of baked and unbaked clay, in the same way that wax seals are still occasionally appended or attached to documents.

Many of the vases discovered in the ruined cities of Assyria are clearly to be attributed to foreign occupants, and are therefore of comparatively late date. To this class belong many of the cinerary urns exhumed from the tombs. Ancient and really Assyrian vessels have been discovered of a pale brown clay (Fig. 44), unglazed, and of various shapes, but seldom painted. It is, however, difficult, in many cases, to discover the nationality of the potter or the age of the piece. Of terra-cotta figures of the gods, several have been found, although these must have existed in far greater numbers. Porcelain, or fine glazed pottery (Figs. 51, 52), is rarely met with, and the specimens found are inferior to the Egyptian. The several uses of the ware appear to have been the same in the two countries. For {101}a knowledge of glazing and enamelling, the Assyrians were in all likelihood indebted to the Egyptians. Bricks subjected to these processes, and ornamented with flowers, leaves, and animals, were employed in decorating interiors and even in building walls (Fig. 53). These bricks reveal the fact that the Assyrians were aware of the peculiar suitableness of tin for making a white enamel. The other enamels employed were yellow, brown, blue, and green, and were produced from metals almost identical with those employed by the Egyptians.

Fig. 56.—Terra-cotta Tablet, from Babylon. (British Museum.)

Like the Assyrian and Egyptian, the Babylonian bricks, whether unbaked or baked, were moulded, and the latter were stamped. Hundreds of these (Fig. 54) bear the stamp of Nebuchadnezzar, the sites where they were found indicating with tolerable exactness the bounds of his kingdom. The extensive use of bricks by the Babylonians may be taken as characteristic of a people inhabiting the country where the Tower of Babel was built (Fig. 55). In many respects the vessels found in Babylonia resemble those of Assyria, so closely, in fact, that they need not here be separately treated. As in the latter country,{102} the Babylonians used terra-cotta writing tablets. Several terra-cotta bas-reliefs have been discovered, of one of the more remarkable examples of which, now in the British Museum, we give the preceding engraving (Fig. 56). This tablet was found near Babylon. The dog is of the huge Thibet breed, and both figures have been modelled. The small size of the pieces would almost preclude their use as ornaments; and Dr. Birch ventures the conjecture that they may have been an artist’s studies for larger works. The fine paste is the same as that used for the writing cylinders.

In regard to the earthen-ware vessels and figures, the same difficulty in determining their age is encountered here that was met with in Assyria. They have been taken from the mounds in large quantities. To this class belongs the ram (Fig. 57) found at Niffer, on the supposed site of ancient Babylon.

Fig. 58.—Glazed Coffins, from Warka.

The Babylonian glazes resemble the Assyrian, and it may be particularly mentioned that the oxide of tin was employed in making enamel. These glazes are found upon both bricks and vases, and were applied extensively to architectural decoration. At Warka, identified with the ancient Ur of the Chaldees, thousands of coffins made of glazed ware have been exhumed, variously decorated with figures. Of these one specimen is given (Fig. 58).{103}

Fig. 59.—Earthen-ware Jars and Water-pots.

We now turn westward to Judæa, in order that, before penetrating farther into Asia and to the extreme East, we may glance at a country showing in its ceramic remains unmistakable signs of Egyptian teaching, but exercising in its turn no recognizable influence upon the art which from all sides of it was diffused over Southern Europe. The art never reached any eminence among the Jews. They preferred the richer beauty of the precious metals. Potters did, no doubt, exist among them in considerable numbers, and were acquainted with the different processes of throwing, firing, and glazing; but the formation of such a guild as that of which Scripture speaks is not of itself a proof that the occupation was held in high esteem. The few relics{104} which can be ascribed to a purely Jewish origin might be passed over as immaterial to observers of the progress of the art, were it not that everything pertaining to the land once called that of Promise, and now designated by all Christendom as Holy, possesses an interest altogether independent of its artistic merit.

For such earthen-ware vessels as they required, the Jews appear to have applied on the one hand to the Phœnicians, and on the other to the Egyptians. The manufacture among themselves was restricted to domestic articles. These resemble the Egyptian in both style and finish, the body being of a somewhat coarse paste, and the glaze of that peculiar kind which is hardly distinguishable from varnish or mechanical polish. A fragment now in the Louvre, of blue-glazed earthen-ware, resembling the finer ware of Egypt, and found in Judæa, further substantiates the close similarity between the pottery of the Jordan and that of the Nile. In ornamentation, however, the Israelites have some claim to originality and independence. Associating the lotus, papyrus, and the symbols of Egypt with idolatry, the Jewish potters substituted grapes, leaves, and pomegranates. In the description of the building of the Temple, in the First Book of Kings, the decoration within the oracle of “carved figures of cherubim and palm-trees and open flowers,” was repeated on the walls and doors; and on the chapiters of the pillars made by Hiram of Tyre were long rows of pomegranates. A similar style of ornamentation was adopted by the potters.

We have already seen that both Egyptian and Phœnician wares were imported into the country, and in addition to these there have been found at Jerusalem and elsewhere several examples of the red Roman, or Samian ware.{105}

THE antiquity claimed for the Hindoos as a people cannot, unfortunately, be elucidated either by the help of such chronicles as the granite records of Egypt, the terra-cotta tablets of Babylon, or the writings of China. The history of Indian art has been surrounded by a more or less impenetrable mystery. Two questions accordingly arise as to its ceramic productions: firstly, Did India possess any knowledge of the plastic art? secondly—that question having been answered in the affirmative—Was it original or borrowed? These doubts, in all probability, arose from the success of the Brahminical endeavors to invest every branch of Hindoo knowledge with a veil of secrecy, and from the geographical position of Hindostan. Occupying a peninsula about half-way on the route by sea between Eastern and Western Asia, Africa, and Europe, it became the recognized mart for the exchange of mercantile commodities. European traders found in it a convenient halting-place, even before they fully realized its actual commercial importance. Similarly, on the north, it intercepted a portion of the overland traffic, and ultimately became the centre toward which gravitated the productions of Persia and Arabia on the west, and of China and Japan on the east.

Travellers who did not stop to examine things very closely, accordingly declared India a stranger to ceramic art. Recognizing its importance as an exchange, from the abundance of imports from abroad, they did not pierce the commercial conditions which hid its productiveness and originality. Later researches have shown not only that{106} India was not dependent upon other countries, but that it had developed an exceptional skill in the application of porcelain to the embellishment of architecture. As if completely to subvert the statements of the first visitors to Hindostan, China, the great seat of the porcelain manufacture, has acknowledged its indebtedness to that country, and the extent to which it has imitated its styles. There is no reason for supposing that a country which had early shown a wonderful capacity for reaching the highest forms of architectural magnificence, and for executing work of the nicest delicacy in the precious metals and gems, lent to China alone its ideas of ceramic beauty. The absence of thorough investigation on the one hand, and the presence of a tendency to take refuge in secrecy in regard to both methods and results, rather than to court observation on the other, may, however, have had their effect in lessening the influence India might otherwise have exercised on the art. That she borrowed and adapted styles originating in both Persia and Japan, after her marts had been flooded with imports from these countries, there is every reason for believing, even when she preserved styles sufficiently distinctive to enable us to distinguish the foreign from the native work.

Of the more ancient forms of pottery, specimens exist which are upward of two thousand years old. The clay varies from red to a gray color, and the ornamentation, when used, is simple and chaste. A funeral urn of this class has a round body without decoration, short, thick neck, projecting lip, and is accompanied by a lid. Another, of the same red clay, instead of the rounded base of the former, has a wide, flat bottom. A band is drawn round the widest part of the body, from which it curves rapidly inward to the neck, and on this upper part, between the greatest circumference and the neck, a simple ornament is laid. Although rather clumsy in appearance, this urn does not lack a certain primitive symmetry.

Like the other ancient nations of which we have already treated, India was intimately acquainted with the processes of enamelling and glazing, and, better than that, brought a cultivated taste to bear upon their employment in both architecture and the decoration of pottery. Glazed bricks, of many colors, were used with great effect in the building of temples and other edifices. They are of much harder and finer material than the bricks of either Egypt or Babylonia. The application{107} of colors and glaze to terra-cotta was productive of the most astonishing and beautiful effects. The specimens preserved of a monumental character substantiate the right of the Indian potters to a very high rank. Not only is the coloring of their terra-cotta friezes brilliant, but the floral and animal forms, introduced either for their symbolical significance or by way of ornament, are masterpieces of art.

Arranging these products chronologically, the wares belonging to the second or third century before our era will take precedence. The buildings in which glazed bricks were used bring us down to from five hundred to upward of a thousand years later. After them come the specimens of glazed terra-cotta. Subsequently a kind of faience was made which has been very generally ascribed to Persia, but which may, from the internal evidence supplied by a comparison with purely Indian work, be safely attributed to India. Lastly, there is the faience of the present time, so intimately allied with the more ancient in both ornamentation and the prevailing shapes, as to be confidently pronounced its legitimate successor. Flowers and ornaments, incised or in relief, and grounds of blue, green, or yellow, are designed and mingled in the most artistic and effective manner.

The porcelain of India has been ascribed, on the one hand, to Persia, and, on the other, to China or Japan, while a closer examination would have revealed the fact that, though having many qualities in common with them, it is yet radically distinct. It seems probable that in several processes which the Indian artist borrowed, he followed Japan, without allowing himself slavishly to copy. The art of India as represented in porcelain manifests itself in a high technical skill, in the most exquisite delicacy, and in a close attention to all the minutiæ of detail. Indian figure-painting owes to these three qualities its superiority alike over those of Persia and of the extreme East. In the beauty consisting of delicacy and careful precision of finish, neither country makes even an approach to an equality with it. This truth is one, however, which can only be fully understood by actual comparison. A similarly painstaking care and conscientious literalness of interpretation characterize the floral ornamentation of Indian porcelain. Even when we find traces of Eastern inspiration in the Hindoo deep-blue or green, the Indian artist asserts his superiority in working out details. In many cases we detect more refined perception combined with a{108} greater technical skill. A deep bowl has floral decoration in green, blue, and red, on a white ground, the flowers being alternately red and blue. Another has a ground of pale green, divided into sections by arches of gold, immediately under the outward curving lip. Upon this are laid larger sections of a rich red color, and filled with flowers. The contrasts are strong, and the effect is magnificent. In one respect the Indian artists are particularly skilful, and that is in the use of gold. It is employed generally with reserve, and always with rich effect.

Fig. 61.—Washington’s “Indian” Porcelain Vases. Deep blue and gold.

A specimen of Indian porcelain (Fig. 61), of exceptional interest to Americans, as having once belonged to George Washington, formed part of the collection at Arlington House. It consists of a set of three vases, presented to Washington by Mr. Samuel Vaughan, of London. Their value, for our present purpose, is somewhat lessened by the fact that, though made in India, the vases were painted in London.

In Siam, a style common to that country with India is prevalent, and is the result of imitating cloisonné enamel in porcelain. The practice has had one result in both countries. It has led to a comparison of the native porcelain with native work in metal, and the originality of the decoration of the former has thus been substantiated and its source explained.{109}

Fig. 62.—Group of Chinese Porcelain. (From the Avery Coll.)

AS we approach China, we must prepare ourselves for the consideration of its ceramic products, by once and for all giving up the attempt to judge them by European or American standards. Whether or not art may have travelled to China eastward from the cradle of the human race, it certainly crystallized in China into distinctive{110} forms. This fact must be constantly kept in mind, if we would succeed in appreciating at its true value the art of the Celestial Empire. As in criticising a book, it is less essential to measure the difference between one’s own ideas and those of the author, than to look at the subject from the author’s stand-point, and to examine the result from the inside, so, in estimating art, it is equally essential to enter into the artist’s views, and to study not only the ideal he means to portray or the real he tries to imitate, but also what he considers essential to imitation and portrayal, and the intelligence to which he addresses himself.

We have seen that the Egyptians honored the gods through their works. The Chinese present us with a religion based, like that of the Greeks, Scandinavians, and many other nations, upon hero-worship. We recede from mankind backward to the time when heroes and gods are commingled, and reach the horizon where humanity and divinity are one. It is claimed for the Chinese that they are the only possessors of a correct, or at least an exact, chronology, but even it does not substantiate the existence of the first of human creatures, who is said to have lived well-nigh a hundred millions of years before the Christian era. Fou-Hi was the first man of whom we can take cognizance, and he lived B.C. 3468. Nearly eight hundred years afterward, Hoang-ti invented pottery and was translated, and the beginning of the manufacture may reasonably be fixed at that date. He did many other useful things besides inventing pottery; but what is now to be chiefly noted is that he was raised to the Chinese heaven for his beneficence. Behind this simple and almost universal hero-worship was a religion compounded of pantheism and a peculiar kind of spiritualism. Chang-ti bears some resemblance to the Egyptian concealed god Ammon, and those who choose may find similar counterparts to the creative and productive principles of the Chinese theogony. These were called the “yang” and the “yn,” and appear to be the active and passive principles personified in Ti and Che, the presiding powers of heaven and earth. In pottery, they frequently appear in connection with the Pa-kwa, or eight diagrams of Fo or Buddha, a series of combinations of three lines by which nature’s changes were represented. Thus on each side of a square vase are the yang and yn, with one of the diagrams above and one below. On another piece of porcelain the yang and{111} yn occupy the centre, round which, in a circle, the diagrams are arranged. With such a foundation Chinese religion is divisible into three component parts—that based upon the teachings of Lao-tseu, that of Confucius, and Buddhism. Lao-tseu and the legend of his birth are especially interesting to the student of Chinese ceramics. The story goes that, after a pregnancy of eighty-one years his mother brought him into the world, while she was a wanderer in the country. When born, his hair was as white as that of an old man, and hence his name, Lao-tseu, the old man-child. When he grew up, he became a recluse, and spent years in the study of abstract religion, out of which studies grew the “Tao-te-king,” an exposition of his views of religion and morality. His followers deified him, and in course of time he was regarded as identical with Chang-ti. In this form the potters represent him, and also as the God of Longevity. He is called alternatively Lao-tseu and Cheou-lao. As the God of Longevity he is represented (Fig. 63) with long white beard and lofty, conical, bald head. His face wears a broad smile, and in his hand is the fruit of the fantao, a fabulous tree symbolical of long life, because it was said to bloom only once in three thousand years, and to bear fruit a thousand years afterward. As Chang-ti, the supreme god, he is riding or leaning upon a deer, is dressed in yellow, and around him are clusters of the immortalizing agaric, ling-tchy.

Confucius, or Koung-tseu, who followed Lao-tseu, was a conservative philosopher, who led his countrymen back to old forms and ancestral hero-worship. He appears as the representative of Buddhism alternatively with Fo or Buddha, and as such holds a roll of manuscript or a sceptre in his hand.

Kuan-in (Fig. 64) was first taken to be the Chinese Venus. She is represented in various attitudes—standing with downcast eyes, or sitting, and holding either a child or a rosary.{112}

Pousa, or Pou-tai, the God of Contentment, is also styled the potter’s god. How he came to be the latter, or to be a god at all, is explained by a good story. The emperor for the time being demanded porcelain, the fabrication of which was represented to him as an impossibility. This information only served to whet his appetite; and to gratify his imperial whim, the workmen were oppressed by their overseers, and driven by threats and blows to make all kinds of sacrifices and exertions to reach the unattainable. At length one of them gave up the struggle, and in despair threw himself into the furnace. When the contents of the kiln were taken out, they were found to be all that the emperor desired, and the rigor from which the potters had suffered was abated. The workmen apparently concluded that such a result was due to some property unknown to alchemy in the body of their comrade. Gratitude led them to respect his memory, and in due course he became a hero and a god. Images of him abound in the workshops of King-teh-chin. Full of sensuality and good-humor, his face wears the laugh of contentment, and his heavy, corpulent body is supported by the wineskin upon which he leans. Without resorting to the explanation to be found in the story, one can readily understand why such a god as Pou-tai should commend himself to the slavish and impoverished potter.

In every collection of Chinese ware will be seen certain forms made use of for decorative purposes, and which have also a symbolical significance requiring explanation. Without going into the question of the origin of the wonderful dragons of the Celestials, their presence, in various degrees of hideousness, on vases and elsewhere, cannot fail to attract attention and suggest inquiry. They are many-shaped, as the devils which beset the good St. Anthony. There are the Long, dragon of heaven; the Kan, dragon of the mountain; Li, dragon of the{113} sea, and many others, scaled, winged, horned, and hornless. Under the form of a dragon many of the immortals are represented, and it only appears in our mundane sphere on some great occasion, when, for instance, Hoang-ti was called upon to join the powers above. As emblems, the dragons require attention, since their significance varies with the number of their claws. That with five claws is seen upon the imperial standard, and is the emblem of the emperor and princes of the first and second class. The four-clawed dragon is the emblem of princes of the third and fourth rank. The Japanese dragon is a tripedal representative of the species. Chinese princes of the fifth rank and mandarins have the four-clawed serpent, Mang.

Another figure very often seen upon Chinese vases, and now, alas! on some European vases also, is the Dog of Fo (Fig. 65). It frequently does duty as a handle, but occasionally it forms an ornament, either by itself or sporting with another of the species. In the latter cases its lion-like appearance degenerates into a hideous ugliness thoroughly Chinese, and illustrates the peculiar tendency of that people to bestow upon their fantastic monsters a massive breadth of jaw and cavernous oral capacity, such as we find in their dragons and in the Ky-lin next to be noticed. The Dog of Fo is the Buddhic guardian of temples and altars.

The Ky-lin (Fig. 66) is one of the most forbidding chimeras ever chosen as an omen of good. Its scaly body, its wide mouth fully armed with formidable teeth, its{114} dragon-like head and hoofed feet, make up a monster as horrible in aspect as it is gentle in disposition.

The Sacred Horse (Fig. 67) is preserved by the Chinese among their symbols, because by the marks on the skin of a horse which suddenly rose from the river, the philosopher Fo was inspired with his diagramic solution of the methods of nature.

Fig. 68.—The Fong-hoang.

The Fong-hoang (Figs. 68 and 69), the immortal bird, harbinger of good, very often resembles a peacock on the wing. When represented in front, its arching neck is turned to one side, and the long tail feathers are fantastically drawn high over its body. Formerly it was the imperial emblem; but on the adoption of the dragon it was relegated to the empress, whose emblem it became.

The symbols of longevity are the white stag, the axis deer, the bat, and the crane; of filial piety, the stork; of happy marriage, the mandarin duck. The months are represented as follows: January, tiger{115} February, rabbit; March, dragon; April, serpent; May, horse; June, hare; July, ape; August, hen; September, dog; October, wild-boar; November, rat; December, ox.

In China, almost every usage is regulated by a specific rule; and we are not astonished, therefore, to find that colors and shapes in porcelain and pottery are distinctive of the rank of the possessor, and have, besides, a symbolical signification. Thus one dynasty, the Tsin (A.D. 265), took blue as its imperial color; the Soui (581-618) took green; the Thang (618-907) took white; the Ming, green; the Tai-thsing, yellow. The colors thus frequently give a clue to the age of pieces. The first dynasty began B.C. 2205; the twenty-first, or Ming, A.D. 1368; and the twenty-second, or Tai-Thsing, in 1616.

Apart from the dynastic significance of colors, they enter largely into the complex system of Chinese symbolism. Thus the points of the compass and the elements are represented as follows:

The earth was figured by a square, fire by a circle, water by a dragon, mountains by a deer.

The form of a vase is also of value in determining its use. Besides the complimentary manner already alluded to, in which vases were employed, they were bestowed as rewards upon deserving public functionaries, and passed between friends as tokens of good wishes. They also occupied a prominent place in religious rites.

We may now proceed to a division of Chinese wares into pottery and porcelain.{116}

ALTHOUGH we may not accept without question the statement that pottery was first invented either by the Emperor Hoang-ti, or during his reign by Kouen-ou, it may at least be taken for granted that pottery preceded porcelain. To define the character of the earliest ware is not unattended with difficulty. One fact which had a great influence upon Chinese art may here be referred to. So soon as pottery was invented, it was taken under government supervision. Subsequently, when porcelain was discovered, the manufacture for many years made very little progress. It was not until it came under imperial protection and patronage that it rose to its greatest height. It will be seen hereafter that in Continental Europe also the best works in ceramic art were, as a rule, produced under the fostering care of the sovereign power.

The oldest Chinese pottery is very hard, opaque, closely akin to stone-ware, and covered with a partially translucent enamel. The latter called Céladon, and made by mixing the colors with the glaze, varies from the old, and now very rare, sea-green to a brown-gray. The term céladon was originally restricted to the sea-green variety, but was ultimately applied to all wares, of whatever color, made in the same manner. The most ancient specimens are of the coarse body above referred to. Occasionally they are decorated with incisions in the paste under the glaze, or with studs and other reliefs, or with flowered designs (céladon fleuri), and are called by the Chinese Tchoui. There is also a céladon of a deeper green than that last referred to, which, with that of the gray varieties, is very often covered with an inextricable net-work of cracks. This is the kind known as crackle. The process which the Chinese succeeded in bringing to the most exact precision in regard to the size of the cracks is not thoroughly understood. Several theories have been advanced to explain it. Examination shows that the paste or body of the ware and the glaze differed in consistency, the one being more or less expansive than the other. To perform the operation successfully, the vessel is{117} while hot, plunged into cold water, or brought suddenly into contact with cold air, when the glaze is at once broken up into the much admired net-work of minute fissures. From this it would appear that the desired effect is caused by the shrinkage of the glaze on being suddenly exposed to cold. Another explanation is that there are two layers of paste of different composition, and that the cracks appear in the outer one. When the piece is glazed, the cracks are covered over, and the surface made perfectly smooth, unless the cracks are very coarse and large, in which case they are perceptible to the touch. Through the cracks the fused paste or inner core appeared, and made them more distinctly visible; or, to reach the same effect, ochre, ink, or other coloring material was rubbed into the cracks. To produce them with the absolute precision to which the Chinese attained, they must have thoroughly studied the composition of the paste and glaze employed, as we frequently find different kinds of crackle on the same vase.

Steatite was sometimes mixed with the glaze, and had the same effect as a sudden immersion. It would naturally follow that no such ornamentation could be applied to porcelain, the paste and glaze being too closely allied in composition. To surmount this difficulty, the glaze was combined with materials destructive of its close affinity with the kaolinic paste. A simultaneous shrinkage being thus made impossible, the glaze cracked. Although both Chinese and foreigners place a high value upon good specimens of crackle, admiration of such a style of ornament involves a decided perversion of taste. It is safe to say that nine persons out of ten would, if left to exert their own uninfluenced judgment, condemn a crackle vase as devoid of all pretension to ornament. It is when we find that the deformity is the result of design, that the piece is a curiosity of workmanship, and represents the mechanical ingenuity of the potter, that it becomes an object of interest and a desirable possession. Crackle-ware has been made by the Chinese since the Song Dynasty, which extended from A.D. 960 to 1279, and probably from a much earlier date. Ornamentation is sometimes laid above the glaze. One very old style of decoration in relief upon the crackle (Fig. 70) consists of medallions and bands of a brown paste, of which imitations, having lions’ heads holding rings in the centre of the medallions, are abundant.

Pottery is used by the Chinese in the making of household vessels{118} and utensils of all kinds—as extensively, in fact, as by the Egyptians. They have earthen-ware reservoirs and basins, lamps, cooking-pots, water-filterers, teapots, and toys. Ornamental vases are also made of earthen-ware, and some specimens show that the Chinese lavished upon their comparatively humble wares—according to our ideas—ornamentation as beautiful and elaborate as that upon porcelain.

Their stone-ware, covered with porcelain, presents us with some of their most wonderful works. This ware is made into jars, seats, cisterns, and many other utensils and objects. It is said to have been in attempting to make plaques of this kind that Pousa or Pou-tai met with his tragic end as before told. The plaques, Licou-li, or glazed tiles, are devoted to the embellishment of imperial and religious edifices, and by the brilliancy of their many colors, yellow, blue, green, red, and violet, produce a dazzling and gorgeous effect. The famous porcelain tower of Nankin (Fig. 71), or, as it is alternatively called by the Chinese, Tower of the Licou-li, or Poa-en-ssi, the Convent of Gratitude, was covered with tiles of the above description. This building has been repeatedly destroyed and rebuilt. The original consisted of three stories, and was erected B.C. 833. Having been demolished, it was rebuilt A.D. 371-373. It was again destroyed, and again rebuilt by one of the Ming emperors, who, after nineteen years’ work, finished it in 1431. Once more it was demolished during the insurrection of the Taepings; and although travellers—including some Americans—have within the past twenty years been fortunate enough to secure a few fragments as relics (Fig. 72), nothing now remains to mark its site. It was this last tower which was known as the Convent of Gratitude. It consisted of nine stories, and was three hundred and fifty-three feet in height. It was covered with enamelled bricks of red, white, blue, brown, and green{119} colors; but whether the previous towers were so decorated is not known, so that the Tower of Nankin cannot be brought forward as proving the architectural use of enamelled stone-ware at a very remote age.

A material which is neither stone-ware nor porcelain, but resembles very fine pipe-clay, is used in making opium pipes. The bowl is enamelled, and decorated with flowers or other forms, and is not unfrequently almost perfect as a work of art. The Chinese boccaro remains one of the finest specimens of a grès known to ceramists, and far above any of the stone-wares of Europe. Some specimens are as perfect in their beauty as jewels. The paste is sometimes brown of a reddish tinge, sometimes a gray faintly colored with yellow. It is made into single pieces and services, occasionally of fantastic design. When covered with colored enamels, the boccaro is at once so delicate and brilliant as to be likened to nothing but a gem.

Fig. 72.—Enamelled Bricks from the Tower of Nankin. (N. Y. Metropolitan Museum.)

At a very early period the Chinese attained to that wonderful mastery of the secrets of color which made them the envy of the artists{120} of all subsequent time, and has led to the adoption of certain of their colors as universal standards of beauty and excellence. Combined with the certainty of their operations in crackle, their skill in color led to many remarkable effects in wares, the precise nature of which cannot be defined. Upon a rich golden crackle, white-and-blue figures are occasionally imposed (Fig. 73). In some cases the enamels used for this super-ornamentation are so transparent that the cracks can be seen through them. Possibly the most curious kind is that in which the vase is encircled by bands of crackle, some coarse and irregular, alternating with others fine and regular, and divided by stamped zones of brown ferruginous paste. Both Japanese and Chinese place a very high value upon the ancient specimens, the priority in point of time being accorded to the light blue. Besides the colors already mentioned, turquoise-blue, yellow, and a bright red are found upon crackle, to the first of which a special value is attached. The fine crackle, called by the French truité, is most frequently applied to vases of pale and olive-green not otherwise decorated. One cannot look at the exquisite coloring of some of the rare old pieces, without being led to the conclusion that the Chinese placed a value upon their ceramic productions not more than commensurate with the artistic skill developed among them.

{121}

Fig. 74.—Chinese Porcelain Lantern. (S. P. Avery Coll.)

Porcelain having been invented in the province of Ho-nan, during the Han Dynasty, between the years B.C. 185 and A.D. 88, was manufactured for upward of fifteen hundred years before it was generally{122} known in Europe. For about five or six hundred years the industry made comparatively little progress, but after A.D. 583 it advanced with great rapidity. In that year the imperial patronage was bestowed upon King-teh-chin, a city in the district of Fauling, and province of Kiang-si. There were here at one time, in 1717, three thousand furnaces. It is said by some recent authorities that all the kilns and potteries were destroyed by the Taepings, and that the entire city was reduced to ruins. According to the official catalogue of the Chinese department at the Centennial Exhibition, the city must have been rebuilt. Both the largest quantity and finest quality of porcelain are said still to be made at the imperial potteries at King-teh-chin, and out of upward of seventeen hundred and fifty pieces exhibited, all were from that city, with the exception of ten from Ningpo, Nankin, and Pekin. Some of the others, although painted at and sent from Canton, were manufactured at King-teh-chin.

All Chinese porcelain has been classed as hard. The only kind about which any doubt has been entertained is the white, variously ornamented in relief. To this ought, however, to be added certain rare but superb specimens which come from China as well as from Persia. The process by which they were manufactured is not known, but it seems clear that they belong to the same family as the pate tendre of France, that is to say, that their vitrification is due to an alkaline frit, and that the glaze is also alkaline.

Of the dynastic colors the azure-blue adopted by the Tcheou, in 945, is the most celebrated. It was very highly valued, and after the secret of making it passed out of sight, which it did at a very early date, it was never rediscovered. It is known as Tch’aï porcelain, and in color resembled the “blue of the sky after rain.” Under the Song Dynasty four very valuable kinds of porcelain were made. The first of these was the Jou-yao, a very fine blue, produced at Jou-tcheon, where crackle porcelain was also made in great perfection; the second (1107-1117) was the famous Kouan-yao, or porcelain for magistrates, of two shades of blue, with a slightly reddish tint; the third takes its name from the Tchang family of potters, and was pale blue and rice-colored crackle; the fourth, the Ting-yao, was of different colors—red, white, brown, and black, and was of great value. These, with the Tcheou blue, are the five ancient qualities held in highest estimation.{123}

There were many other kinds, too numerous to be here given in detail, including the “porcelain of concealed color,” so called because designed for imperial use, and others of varying tints of violet, brown, purple, and blue. At King-teh-chin jade-colored porcelain was made before the tenth century, and a hundred years later the entire empire was interested in the manufacture. With a mere reference, in the mean time, to the blue-and-white porcelain of the Youen Dynasty, we pass to that of the Ming, to which some of the porcelain most highly prized by collectors belongs. When, in 1369, a factory was started at King-teh-chin to supply the imperial wants exclusively—an event not to be confounded with the foundation of the King-teh-chin manufactory, which took place during the Song Dynasty, three hundred and fifty years previously—the vases of blue camaïeu, called Kouan-ki, or magistrate’s vases, were made in that city. These valuable works were probably intended to follow as nearly as possible the more ancient Tcheou porcelain, which had reached so great a value that even fragments of it were employed like precious stones. It will be observed that the earlier magistrates’ porcelain was made under the Song, and the explanation is given that the Ming Kouan-ki were so called to distinguish the porcelain made at the royal factory from those made for vulgar use. It may be added that the old turquoise blue was made from copper, and the sky-blue from cobalt.

The blue-and-white “Nankin” is a comparatively modern ware made at King-teh-chin. It takes its name from the place of export. It is, in the strict application of the term, not older than the beginning of the sixteenth century, when the Chinese began to use imported cobalt; but as now employed, it includes all Chinese porcelain with blue-and-white decoration. The folly of such an unmeaning subdivision finds its reward in the confusion of the student. The blue-and-white is not only the oldest of all Chinese decoration in colors, but is found upon some of the most interesting and valuable works.

The best pieces, whether ancient or modern, are distinguished by the purity of the white and the clearness of the blue. To this class belong the Kouan-ki already referred to as having been made soon after the middle of the fourteenth century at King-teh-chin. These productions frequently bear certain honorific marks, from which their destination can be inferred. The leading symbols are eight in number;{124} and when, as is very often the case, they have a ribbon attached, the pieces are designed for sacred use. Thus the pearl (Fig. 75) marks pieces destined for poets or literati, and is the symbol of talent. It varies slightly in form, being in some cases very small, with a conical top, and in others resembling a flattened sphere. The “sonorous stone” (Fig. 76) is for judges or magistrates, and was hung above their door or at the temple gates, to be struck by those seeking an audience. Pieces with this mark were, therefore, exclusively for the use of judges. The Kouei, or tablet of honor (Fig. 77), is the symbol of office. It was given by the emperor to his noble functionaries, who were required to hold it when discharging the duties of their office, and during an audience. The sacred axe (Fig. 78) is the mark of warriors. The cockscomb (Fig. 79) is the symbol of longevity. The “sacred things” or “treasures of writing” (Fig. 80) are the emblems of the learned, and consist of paper, pencil or brush, ink and pumice-stone. The outang (Fig. 81) is a leaf, the significance of which is not understood. It is frequently found on the bottom of pieces. The meaning of the univalve shell (Fig. 82) is also unknown. These marks and many others are found variously disposed upon blue-and-white porcelain. In the illustration (Fig. 83) the pearl, the sonorous stone, and the Kouei are seen in combination with others, and the inference is that the piece was intended for a man of letters, of noble rank, who also held the office of magistrate. The lace or lambrequin decoration round the border is exceedingly{125} rich and fine, and shows at once whence the artists of Rouen borrowed their favorite design. In other pieces the honorific marks are introduced in the design, or appear upon the neck of vases, or are so disposed as to constitute the chief ornaments. The latter arrangement is exemplified in a small vase, also in Mr. Runkle’s collection, where the symbols are suspended one above another.

There is in Mr. Avery’s collection a Ming bowl, or cup of “the learned,” which closely resembles one described by Jacquemart. The rim projects slightly, and in panels reserved in the border are the honorific marks. The author is represented seated at a table, deep in meditation, in the very throes of composition. From his forehead issues a scroll which expands into the semblance of a cloud, wherein are depicted by the artist the scenes of the drama which the poet is composing. This method of representing literary travail is in our time left to the caricaturist; but it is, nevertheless, a vivid way of giving artistic form to the thoughts passing in the brain of “the learned.”

The blue-and-white will{126} amply repay the most careful and critical study. This is absolutely necessary if we would distinguish not only the art which is Chinese, but the best of the Chinese—that emanating from King-teh-tchin—from the works of other factories. The influence of the imperial factory is felt throughout the empire. Its styles and methods are copied and adopted, but imperial patronage, and the resources of a factory carried on under the highest political auspices, make the work of provincial imitators difficult. Then, again, the blue-and-white of Japan is sometimes mistaken for that of China, and it must be confessed that the difference is not always easily detected. Close observation, however, shows that the white of the Japanese differs from the Chinese, and that the blue is less soft. The white of Japanese pieces is purer, and sometimes it is what we understand by the phrase “dead white;” that is, it resembles chalk, and lacks clearness. As a consequence, the color does not derive from the glaze the softness and transparency of the Nankin blue, but appears to lie upon the surface in harder outline and with less depth. Besides the Japanese, there are qualities of blue from India, Persia, and other countries, which require careful examination to prevent their being confounded with those of China.

An exceptional style of decorating blue-and-white Chinese porcelain is that in which a light buff, varying at times to a clear brown, is mingled with the blue. This is seen in bands surrounding the necks of bottles and similarly shaped pieces, and is also occasionally mingled with the blue on the necks of vases.

As to the forms and styles of decoration of blue-and-white porcelain, they are too varied to permit of classification. Some of the finest shapes are to be found in this class, and also some of the most unique and curious. Beakers, with gracefully expanding necks alternate{127} with clumsy pieces without any claim to beauty of form, and these, again, with such elegant shapes as the Lancelle (Fig. 85). The decoration includes every style known to Chinese art. On the Kouan-tse are dragons writhing in tortuous folds among the clouds or in the water, and flowers profusely scattered without any attempt at orderly disposal. On others are historical scenes, lang lizen—the long young ladies of Dutch traders—lace or lambrequin patterns, and many other designs. The palm-leaf is very effectively used. In a beaker in Mr. Runkle’s collection, the conical leaves are arranged round the body, whence they rise toward the top and descend toward the bottom, and thereby give emphasis to the shape as it expands to the lip and base. In such an arrangement the taste of the Chinese artist is infallible. The disposition of the decoration, which at first seems stiff and formal, is not only in harmony with the shape of the beaker, but is the only one by which its beauty of form could be fully brought out. When historical incidents are the subjects of the painting, the execution of the figures is admirable. It is in such pieces that we can best appreciate the accuracy of the artist, and his admirable control of his brush. He understands that a few judicious strokes may have a finer, and, by their suggestiveness, a fuller, effect than crowded detail and the most delicate shading. They show, further, that the art of decorating a vase with human figures consists in judgment as much as in execution. Thus, where the forms are distorted and the unity of the composition destroyed by the shape of the vase and the disposition of the figures, not only is the decoration unpleasing, but the artist fails in reaching the effect aimed at. These are faults of which the Chinese artists are seldom guilty, and their skill in overcoming the difficulties presented by the curves{128} or angles of the object to be decorated can be better studied in a collection of blue-and-white than among the porcelain of any other family. When it is considered that only one color is employed, the diversity of the results is wonderful. In many cases this is effected by apparently varying the application of the pigment, and laying it on more thickly in some places than in others. We have seen this exemplified on a vase where the ornamentation was chiefly floral, and the flowers were painted so thinly as to give the effect of a distinct and paler shade of color. We have also seen pieces where the differences of shade were so regular and striking as to leave little doubt that two distinct qualities of blue were used.

When the Chinese artist condescends to adopt a regular pattern, his attention is directed to relieving the monotony of repetition by diversity of detail. In the vase (Fig. 86) there are at least six distinct styles of edging, and a slight change in the arrangement of the same pattern on the body and neck gives all the variety of two distinct designs.

A well-known but rare pattern is that called Hawthorn (Fig. 87) by Europeans, on the lucus a non lucendo principle, since the so-called “hawthorn” is the blossom of certain fruit-trees better known to the Celestials. In this the blue is the ground-color, and in it the decoration, consisting of sprigs of bud and blossom, is reserved. The ground{129} is varied with dark blue lines, as if to simulate crackle, and the sections are shaded so as to have the appearance of overlapping each other. The irregular lines and changing tints not only relieve the ground of monotony, but enrich the general effect, and give the blue additional depth and transparency. The illustration gives a good idea of the freedom with which the spray is disposed, and the good taste with which its arrangement is adapted to the shape of the vase. The decoration is generally applied to vases and pots of the shape given above. Further examples are in the collections of Mr. Robert Hoe, Jr., and Mr. W. L. Andrews. There are also many smaller pieces, such as plates, narrow cylindrical beakers, and others, upon which it may be seen. These are represented in the collections of Mr. Francis Robinson and Mr. W. T. Walters. In such pieces as those last mentioned the ground is less broken up by lines, and in some cases the white is reserved in a ground of unbroken pale blue. In the second specimen (Fig. 88) the white blossom is used with a more sparing hand than in the others, and the eye more readily appreciates the wonderfully beautiful shading of the overlapping sections. The unevenness of surface is also more perceptible to the touch, and, to use a familiar illustration, resembles the overlapping of slates upon a roof.

Although not belonging to the same family, we may here refer to a rare vase (Fig. 89), which supplies us with a remarkably fine specimen of a kindred style of ornamentation. In this case the ground is black, and the “hawthorn,” or plum-tree, sprays, with white flowers, are wreathed gracefully over its surface. The green of the leaves would{130} lead us to class it with the Green family. The piece is, however, exceptional, since black is, as a rule, seldom introduced to any great extent in decoration. To what fabric or age shall we attribute it? It is possibly a specimen of the skill of Thang-kong, who lived between 1736 and 1795, and was director of the Imperial works. Thang not only reproduced some of the ancient colors, such as the dark-blue and red, but gave full sway to his own inventive genius. Among his original works are a purple, a black enamel, and a black enamel with white flowers, which suits the description of the unique specimen referred to. It is, in any event, by reason both of its graceful shape and decoration, deserving of attention.

To return to the blue-and-white, there are specimens, generally plaques, with flowers resembling asters, painted in blue (Fig. 90). One has some difficulty in bringing the formal arrangement of these flowers into accord with Chinese art as we find it elsewhere. The flowers are regularly disposed in the centre of the plaques, and repeated, in smaller size, in a single row round the rim. It seems more than probable that the style is borrowed or slightly modified, and one is strengthened in such a supposition by the fact that it is seldom, if ever, found upon pieces as pure in paste as the average Chinese porcelain. Possibly, with the intention of following his model more closely, the Chinese artist designedly resorted to an inferior body, such as might have reached China from Persia.

There are certain pieces of blue-and-white in which both Persian forms and Persian styles of decoration have been followed, and these introduce the general subject of Persian influence as felt in China. It first manifested itself as far back as the Siouen-te period (1426) of the Ming dynasty, and is further represented by pieces belonging to{131} the sixteenth and seventeenth centuries. The most easily recognized are those in which the Persian form is adopted, although the paste alone would lead one to ascribe them to China, as it is invariably finer than anything known to have come from Persia. There is in Mr. Runkle’s collection a ewer decorated with flowers in light-blue, resembling that of Tch’aï porcelain, the famous “blue of the sky after rain.” Real examples of this old blue must needs be rare, since the porcelain, variously called Tch’aï, Tcheou, and Tchi-tsong, was, like the old white, valued, even in fragments, as highly as jewels. A second from the same collection is given on the following page (Fig. 91). The panels are black, the flower and border decoration are in pink, green, and yellow, and show the variety and execution distinctive of Chinese work. There are many pieces of the same class in which the artist has attempted to follow the Persian styles more closely, but even a slight examination can leave little doubt of their Chinese origin. In connection with the blue-and-white decoration may be mentioned the vases of sea-green céladon, in which panels of white are reserved. On these are figures of men and animals, landscapes or flowers, in blue. A favorite form, and one well suited to this style of decoration, is a square bottle or vase, the sides of which enable the artist to paint the design in blue upon the flat.

Of the other blues which were used as ground colors, one of the most famous is the turquoise obtained from copper. It has all the clear depth of the stone from which it takes its name, a liquid transparency elsewhere unequalled. It appears on a great variety of pieces—gods, kylins, birds, dogs, and vases. The latter are very often graved in the paste, after designs more or less ornate. In the specimen given (Fig. 92), which is very finely{132} crackled, the leaves are bound together by a zone decorated with the Greek fret.

The lapis lazuli blue has a deeper tint, and is usually decorated with gold. It is used as a ground color, and fine specimens lead one to question the appropriateness of the name, as the porcelain so decorated has a brilliancy and depth far in advance of the comparatively dull stone. The color is occasionally employed in Persian decoration, and varies in shade.

The mazarine blue is similarly treated, and is also effectively heightened by a super-ornamentation of gold of different shades. There are many other tints to which it is hard to give even a distinctive name. They illustrate the extreme partiality of the Chinese for this color, a partiality which has never wavered for at least sixteen centuries. It has been the means of giving to the world a greater number of beautiful works of art than would otherwise seem to be within the reach of the most skilful manipulation and the most prolific fancy, when restricted to a single color.

The soufflé porcelain will be hereafter noticed, but in the mean time, to prevent misapprehension, reference may be made to the bleu fouetté, a style sometimes confounded with the soufflé. It is less deep in shade than the lapis lazuli, and has a mottled appearance. It is{133} used as a ground color, in which are sections of white, and on the latter are brilliant designs in red, green, and gold. The effect is rich, and the contrast between the panel painting and the more sombre ground color is very striking. There are also blues splashed over with spots of red and lilac, and many others, such as the “transmutation” or flashed glaze, illustrative of the magical dexterity of the Chinese workman. What on first sight seems the result of an accident in the kiln, will often prove to be that of a carefully conducted operation and deliberate intention.

We may now glance briefly at the various fabrics of the Ming Dynasty, in their chronological order.

The establishment of an imperial factory at King-teh-chin, as above stated, marked the beginning of the Ming, during which (1368-1649) the art rose to its highest level. After the blue Kouan-ki came vases and vessels of various colors and styles of decoration. Between 1403 and 1424, egg-shell porcelain, so called from its remarkable thinness, was first issued from King-teh-chin, and between 1465 and 1487 reached its greatest excellence and fineness. It was made as thin as paper, and was so favorably regarded by the emperors that they gave rewards to those making the finest pieces. Its gauzy transparent tenuity is effected by grinding it down after glazing. Vases, as well as cups, etc., were made of egg-shell, which at a later date was painted in colors. The fifteenth century saw the greatest triumphs of Chinese artists. From 1426 to 1435, the Siouen-te period, very brilliant blue, red, white, and veined crackle was made. Representations of crickets were a fashionable style of ornamentation. Afterward, between 1465 and 1487, although the colors deteriorated, the beauty of the ornamentation increased toward{134} its artistic extreme. With the sixteenth century, we have seen that foreign material for ornamentation began to be introduced; and although many original artists continued to appear, others restricted themselves almost exclusively to the imitation of ancient wares. Tcheou, who lived between 1567 and 1619, took particular delight in puzzling collectors by skilful counterfeits of the most famous, rare, and valuable old wares. According to a story told by Julien, he imitated the ancient Ting white, made from three to six hundred years before his time, so closely, that he duped the most acute collectors. More than a century later, between 1735 and 1795, Thang-kong, already referred to, displayed great imitative skill. It is, however, evident, and a matter of regret, that, from the beginning of the eighteenth century, the ceramic art of China declined. While the materials employed are still equal to the most ancient, the ornamentation after that date became, as a rule, manifestly inferior. To what extent a more intimate intercourse with foreigners and the more extended demands of trade resulting therefrom may have contributed to such a result, we need not now inquire. The greater rapidity of execution necessitated by increasing orders from abroad, and the influence of European models, had no doubt their effect. All the best pieces were retained for native use, and only the inferior qualities were exported. The estimation in which the Chinese hold the rarer pieces is further illustrated by the fact that specimens which have found their way to Europe have been sent back to China to be sold, because there they would realize higher prices. Many of the better kinds have never been seen in Europe; and when in addition to this it is remembered that, while skilled in production, the Chinese were equally clever in imitation with fraudulent intent, many other kinds are in all likelihood really unknown beyond the bounds of the Celestial Empire.

There are, besides the works of such an artist as Thang-kong, exceptional pieces of the Tai-thsing Dynasty, especially those of the Kien-long period, during which Thang-kong lived, that are in every way admirable. One example of this period (Fig. 93) has a ground color of light green, overrun with a graceful floriated design graved in the paste, and having reserved panels, in which are a landscape on one side and a tree and bird on the other. In another the ground is a delicate pink, and the figures are raised. Examples might be multiplied{135} to any extent, which show that, however faulty the later specimens may be, there is no lack of variety. The artists resorted to every style of decoration within the reach of their skill, and some exceedingly beautiful porcelain of various families will be found to belong to the Kien-long period.

The Tai-thsing Dynasty is also marked by the production of the vases called “Mandarin,” usually, but in our opinion mistakenly, ascribed to Japan. The history of China at this time is for our present purpose valuable. So long as the two dynasties were at war, art was neglected; and we therefore find that, for several years prior to the establishment of the Tartar Dynasty, the manufactories gave out no works of note. When the Tai-thsings were firmly seated on the throne the art received a new impulse. While Khang-hi reigned (1661-1722), Thang-ing-siouen was director of the imperial factory, and made two yellows, a green and blue. He was succeeded in 1722 by Nien, who was equally successful, and in 1736 was associated with the artist Thang-kong before mentioned. After Kien-long, the fourth of the Tartar Dynasty, the art went rapidly downward. It will be observed from these few facts that when the decline of Chinese art is spoken of as beginning with the eighteenth century, allowance must be made for the check experienced under Kien-long (1736-1795). When he ascended the throne there were, according to M. Julien, fifty-seven manufactories of porcelain in China, of which seven besides that of King-teh-chin were in the province of Kiang-si. Whatever condition art may have been in, there was plainly no stagnation in production.

And now as to the mandarin vases, which strictly reflect the history of China: the word “mandarin” is applied to all the public{136} functionaries of China, and, in the decoration of porcelain, includes all the figures with toque and vest seen on the vases of this period. When the Tartar Dynasty came in, one of the first imperial acts was to issue an order that certain new customs should be adhered to, and old ones renounced. Though politic, in tending to erase even the remembrance of the dethroned Mings, the act was in certain particulars a cruelty to the conservative Chinese. It involved in their eyes degradation to the level of the victorious Tartar; and rather than conform to the order requiring the head to be shaved, many were willing that it should be cut off. Conformity came in time, and the pigtail was an accepted necessity. Changes in costume were also gradually effected. Of these the most marked features are the rolled-up cap or toque and the short coat. To distinguish the nine orders of public officers, the most minute regulations were issued. These affected chiefly the button on the toque, the squares on the front and back of the coat, and the decoration of the belt.

The mandarin vases upon which these costumes are seen, are thick in the paste and frequently uneven on the surface. The hexagonal form, as well as the general features of the decoration, were followed and made familiar to Europeans by the potters of Delft. The decoration is so varied that the group is divided by Jacquemart into six sections. The chief colors are pink, lilac, green, iron red, Indian ink, gold and black. The painting is not executed after the usual Chinese fashion, and the faces in particular are finished with a minute care suggestive of an influence not felt before this period. What concerns us chiefly at present is the reason given by Jacquemart for assigning the entire group to Japanese workmanship. He says:

“The special character of this costume marks out perfectly the group of porcelain upon which it is to be found. It offers, besides, the advantage of rendering incontestable the Japanese origin of these porcelains. The artists of the Celestial Empire have never represented mandarins in their lacquer-work, carved wood or ivories, vases, bronzes, hard or soft stones; no authentic nien-hao piece has depicted anything besides the heroes of ancient times and the subjects of ancient history. It was left to neighboring nations, at the same time inquisitive and commercial, to multiply upon the vases this execrated costume, imposed only after a time by force.{137}”

Fig. 94.—Chinese Ming Vases. White Ground. In medallions, green and brown characters and figures. Darker part red and white, with green flowers. (Geo. R. Hall Coll., Boston Museum of Fine Arts.)

This appears rather a slight reason for giving the entire group to Japan. Let us look back to history. From the Wan-li period of the Ming (1619) to the final fall of the dynasty in 1647, or from the irruption of the Tartars in 1616 down to 1662, the Khang-hi period of the Tai-thsings, we know of no porcelain having been made; but in that period, as we have seen, the industry revived. It is then that we again find a director at King-teh-chin, and seventy years later Thang-kong was reviving the bright red and devising the gold ornamentation on black which we find on the mandarin vases. Jacquemart suggests “some years” after 1616 as the date when the Tartar costume was applied to vases. It is probable that it was at least from fifty to seventy years after that date, and that the best specimens belong to the Kien-long period, which began in 1736. After 1662 the imperial factory was apparently as much under the Emperor’s control as it had been under the Mings; in which case he could, it is presumed, order such paintings and figures in such costumes as he pleased. We know, further, that in 1698 two foreign artists—an Italian and a Frenchman—{138}were at the palace giving the Chinese several new ideas about art, especially, as we shall see, about perspective. This may, in part, account for the miniature appearance of the face paintings on the mandarin vases. There is, moreover, no ostensible reason for assigning to the Japanese the origination of a style of decoration at variance with everything else we know of the early traditions of their art, although they followed it afterward. We might rather look to India. We know, at least, that during the Kien-long period the Chinese incurred and acknowledged certain debts to India, and it is in the same country that we find the best miniature painting of the East. Such a supposition would also account for the unusual type presented by some of the mandarins with long pointed beards.