singular circumstances. It involves a bit of
chemistry, a bit of geology, a bit of national
rivalry and a bit of commercial enterprise.

How many thousands of millions of years
ago, according to Chinese chronology, the
inhabitants of the Celestial Empire have been
making porcelain, it would be hard to say;
but the Portuguese appear to have been the
first to render their productions familiar to
Europeans. As to the name, some derive it
from porcellana, the Portuguese name for a
cup; but it is just as likely that the cup was
named from the substance, as the substance
from the cup. The European collectors of
Chinese and Japanese porcelain were for a
long time puzzled to account for the composition
of the substance. The peculiar
translucency led them to think that egg-shells
were concerned in the matter, and a theory
was broached that porcelain was made from a
mixture of broken egg and sea-shells, which
had been buried in the earth during a great
number of years.

The Jesuits were destined to throw light
upon this matter. Francis Xavier d'Entrecolles
established himself in China as a
missionary; and, with the energy which has
generally distinguished the Jesuits, he
sought to discover useful facts, as well as to
make religious converts. He contrived to
elude the vigilance of the authorities, and to
insinuate his nose into the Royal Porcelain
Manufactory at King-te-Ching; he even
obtained specimens of the earths and clays
employed in the manufacture. He wrote a
circumstantial letter on the subject, which afterwards
appeared in Grosier's Description of
China: but the Jesuit did not very well
understand the technical parts of his
subject; and he threw but a dusky light on
the matter.

Two men, about a century and a quarter
ago, resolved, independently of each other,
to ferret out the secret of this Chinese porcelain.
They were Bötticher, of Saxony, and
Réaumur, of France. Bötticher was led to
the research by accident; Réaumur was led
by D'Entrecolles' letter. Baron de Bötticher,
an alchemist, made and baked some crucibles,
wherein to convert the philosopher's stone
into gold; and he observed that — whether
from some peculiarity in the composition or in
the baking — the substance of the crucibles
presented a remarkable resemblance to
Chinese porcelain. The baron wisely abandoned
the chimera of gold-making, and set about
a further examination of the crucible question.
He was working with Tschirnhaus
at the time, in the royal alchemical establishment
at Dresden; for kings were alchemists
in those days. When his discovery was
made, his royal master — who was King of
Poland as well as Elector of Saxony —fitted
up a laboratory for him at Meissen, provided
every comfort, and gave him a coach wherein
to travel to and from Dresden; but
Bötticher was everywhere accompanied by
an officer, so solicitous was the king that the
secret should not transpire. Bötticher and
Tschirnhaus worked hard and enthusiastically
and at length produced translucent
porcelain equal to that of China. The king
established a royal porcelain manufacture at
Meissen, of which Bötticher was made director;
and, at this establishment, has ever since
been produced what is known by the name
of Dresden china.

Meanwhile Réaumur was prosecuting an
independent series of investigations. He
procured specimens of porcelain from different
quarters, broke them, examined their internal
structure; burnt them, and observed how
they withstood the action of the fire. The
Jesuits had sent over from China specimens
of two kinds of earth, called kaolin and
petuntse, employed in making Chinese
porcelain; Réaumur experimented on these.
He found that kaolin resisted the action of
fire; that petuntse became fused; and
that a mixture of bolh assumed a porcellanic
appearance. Such being the case,
Réaumur had next to discover whether
France contained these two kinds of earth,
or others nearly analogous to them. The
search was successful; and, without originating
the celebrated porcelain works at
Sèvres (for they previously existed), it
enabled them to enter upon a career of
renown.

At the time when these researches were
being made in Saxony and France, the
English potters made very little else than
common coarse-ware; but, when Wedgwood
came upon the busy scene he made many and
valuable improvements. He introduced the
table-ware, dense, durable, well-glazed, and
cheap; then, the Queen's-ware: a superior
kind of table-ware, to which royal approval
was awarded; then terra cotta: a kind of
pottery with which Wedgwood was enabled
to imitate porphyry, granite, Egyptian pebble,
and other beautiful stones; then, basalt, or
black-ware, a black porcellanic biscuit, hard
enough to emit sparks when struck with
steel, capable of taking a high polish, and
having a power to resist the action of corrosive
acid and strong heat; then, white
porcelain biscuit, having a smooth, wax-like
appearance; then, bamboo biscuit, differing
from the last named chiefly in colour; then,
jasper, a white porcellanic biscuit of exquisite
delicacy and beauty: yet he did not
practise the art of making true porcelain;
at the time when the chief part of his labours
were carried on, the existence of the proper
kinds of earth in England was scarcely
known.

It was not by Wedgwood — it was not in
Staffordshire — that the porcelain manufacture
was first introduced in England. Porcelain
was made at Bow, and at Chelsea, before
Wedgwood's busy times; but the porcelain
he made was what collectors called soft, being
made of soft substances, unable to bear the