with a vengeance; and only shows the vagaries
to which the uncultivated workman will resort
for the purpose of mere novelty. Compare
such an object with some simple vase in fine
dark red or buff terra-cotta, its form elliptical,
if for cut flowers, and less elongated if
for bulbous or growing plants. Its subdued
tone of colour, throws back, as it were, nature's
more brilliant hues, and its conventional ornament,
if ornament there need be, contrasts fitly
with the exuberance and infinite variety of
Nature's outlines.

Apart from the facts, that the same geometrical
principles and the same materials are as
open to the modern as to the ancient potter, we
greatly question if mere servile copies of
antique specimens would ever suit the chief
purposes of modern art, particularly that part
of it which lends aid to floral decoration. The
larger portion of the ancient fictilia which
has descended to our time was fabricated for
funeral purposes, and, with this object in view,
its forms were severe and its tones of colour
subdued. There is also much reason to think
that the taste for flowers was rather an
expression of their poets, so far as it went, than a
fact of daily life. Floriculture is almost a
modern taste, engrafted on the old Teutonic
predilection for the open country and its
products; and, therefore, it is with this newness
of facts and ideas that the artistic potter has to
deal. He must use and adopt the old outlines
and their variations, because they are elementary
in form; but he will vitalise these to the
necessary purposes in view, if he be a true
artist. He will avoid highly glazed surfaces
and gaudy colouring, except minutely and in
the way of ornament; and once having
conceived the work he has to do, as a whole, he
will trust to taste, and to spontaneous feeling,
for that which he will express in ornament,
whatever be its amount or kind. It was this
method which enabled the Lombardian workers
in terra-cotta to give to their productions the
force and character of a fine art.

In this country, as on the Continent, the
workers in these cheap, yet fine materials, are
gaining ground every day. The English,
taking the side of utility, as they ever do, excel
in architectural ornaments and adjuncts; the
Neapolitans in statuettes of a pale red colour;
the Swiss make red terra-cotta flower-vases,
and were the first to introduce red suspending
vases. In Germany are many manufactories
of terra-cotta, where ornamental articles in red
and buff are made; and in Belgium and Holland
porous biscuit vessels and ornaments in
red ware are common, particularly flower-vases.
The French likewise excel in terra-cotta; and
some of the largest and most magnificent works
of a sculptured class have been produced at
Toulouse, as also architectural ornaments of a
buff colour, and many fine imitations of Etruscan
works. Exceedingly beautiful models of
statuettes in buff and red terra-cottas are also
made in France; and many of these are so well
proportioned and perfect as to serve as models
in public schools of art.

Ornamental works of the highest character
are produced in England, but owing to the
want of what we may call a better dispersive
machinery, they are comparatively unknown,
and not easily seen or procured. It is one
thing to make a fine set of vases for the
lawns and terraces of Windsor Castle,
Burleigh House, or Trentham Hall; and another
to reproduce them in a smaller and cheaper
form for the multitude. Yet important and
honourable as the one commission is to the
manufacturer, the other is far more so, not
only so far as profit goes, but in a national and
artistic point of view. Art must be infiltrated
unconsciously, as it were, into the home life
of the people, and to effect this he must do
what Wedgwood did a hundred years ago,
build up fine art on useful art and make the
flower-pots, vases, and little ornaments for
humble homes, pay by their large and ready
sale for the cost in modelling the fine bas-
relief and life-like bust. What seems essential
to this is a better dispersive machinery. It
ought to be seen by dealers that pottery
must be brought to men's doors, or nearly so,
if it is to sell. People will not go far out
of their way to seek things in good taste.
Good pottery must stand forth in the markets
if it is to meet the eye of the multitude. The
"missis" on her Saturday night's peregrinations,
"father" on his way home from the
"shop," Smith or Brown in search of some
present for his "young woman," with a sixpence
or may be a shilling to spare, will not enter shops
to make inquiries. The very number and prettiness
of the goods scare them, to say nothing of
that chronic bashfulness which belongs to the
more respectable of their class when not
"cleaned up" or in their best attire. But they
can chaffer with the keeper of the street stall.
And if the eye has been attracted, a purchase
is sure to follow.

It may be hoped, that when Covent Garden
is rebuilt on a wider area, and the growing
wants of the metropolitan and suburban districts
are met by good and well-constructed markets,
provision will be made for this indirect culture
of the taste and refinement of the great masses.
If they can buy a plant, or a few sweet flowers
for a penny, let there also be in a near
neighbourhood, the cheap yet elegant vessel wherein
to place them. And if dealers of a better class
would take this question up in an enlightened
spirit, and not, as now, burden the markets
with the refuse goods only of the Staffordshire
potteries—but import from abroad— from Italy,
Germany, Switzerland, France, Belgium, and
Holland, those cheap and beautiful forms
which mark many of the ordinary branches
of the potter's art in those countries, such as
statuettes, vases, hanging baskets, salt cellars,
tea and coffee services, jugs, and other useful
and ornamental, yet cheap and simple goods, a
boon scarcely to be over estimated would be
conferred on all classes of society, for it would
vitalise the truths of art through the acceptance
of the people. It would allow comparison to
be made between the fabrics of different countries;