colours, and its designs copied from the old
Japan productions. There are the stone
wares from China and Japan, which
frequently serve as a coloured base for raised
ornaments of soft porcelain. There are the
various Wedgwood wares, comprising the
Queen's and the Basalt, the Jasper and the
Onyx, and other kinds. There are the old
Chelsea china, Rotherham china, and Derby
china. There are the Dresden china and the
Bötticher ware and the Sèvres china. In
short, if the reader knew how eagerly
collectors look out for the different varieties of
old pottery and porcelain, he would have
some clue to the origin of that desire which
exists to imitate in some degree those
productions: not to imitate for dishonest
purposes; for he must be a shallow judge who
would mistake modern decorated glass for
old painted china. How the connoisseur
distinguishes the poteries à pâte-tendre from the
poteries à pâte dur; the poterie matt from
the poterie lustrée; the poterie vernissée from
the poterie emaillée; the fayence Anglaise
from the fayence Française; the Wedgwood,
the Bötticher, the Palissy, the Della Robbia,
the Majolica, the Sèvres, the Dresden—how
he learns to know these one from another, is
a part of his business as a collector and
connoisseur; but it may be worth knowing that,
from the nature of the process, some of these
varieties of ware are wholly unfitted to be
imitated on glass.

The imitative art to which the long Greek
name is given bears no analogy to that by
which these several kinds of ware are coloured
and adorned. Some of the coloured wares
have metallic figments mixed with the clay
whereof they are formed, which imparts
a uniform colour to the whole substance;
while, in other cases, colours are mixed with
oils and turpentine, and are applied to the
surface of the ware with a pencil of camel-
hair, the fixture of the colour being ensured
by a subsequent process of fixing in a small
kiln or oven. Nor does the art resemble
that of the glass-stainer; for this skilful
artist, after having sketched his design on
glass, has a most elaborate series of processes
to attend to: his mineral colours must be so
chosen as to form a sort of enamel with the
glass by the aid of heat; and he must so
select the components of his colours that
whatever they may appear like when opaque,
they must appear brilliantly transparent
when applied to the glass.

No; the potichomania, the jar frenzy, the
imitation of porcelain and pottery, must not
claim to rank either with porcelain-painting
or glass-staining. There is nothing chemical
about it,— nothing that requires kilns, or
muffles, or ovens,— nothing for which our
leading artists will be called upon to contribute
designs. Nevertheless, there is no reason
why it should not constitute a pretty lady-
like employment, susceptible of considerable
variety of application.

There have not been wanting imitations of
old Dutch china manufactured in wood. The
wood was turned in a lathe to the shape of a
jar, or urn, or vase; the wooden counterfeit
was painted with oil colour; flowers or
ornaments were cut out of coloured printed calico
or linen; these were pasted on in their proper
relative positions; and the pseudo-Dutch or
Japanese production received its finishing
touch by means of a coat of varnish. But
this varnish had a tendency to crack, and it
seldom presented such a surface as could well
imitate the smooth glossy exterior of a real
product of the plastic art. Hence it is that
the inventors of the new process pride
themselves on the higher philosophy of their
modus operandi.  They say, virtually if not
verbally, " See, our exterior is the real thing;
the exterior of a porcelain vessel is a veritable
glass, for all enamel and glaze are true glass;
and our products exhibit a real glass exterior,
untouched by colour or varnish of any kind,
—ergo, our imitations are better than their
wooden predecessors." The validity of this
ergo depends upon the whereabouts and the
manner in which the coloured adornments
are applied. So long as sheets of paper or
cloth alone could be used, it may be doubted
whether the new art could have been
practised to any satisfactory degree; because
there is a solidity or opacity about them
which interferes with anything like
translucency of effect. Every one knows that very
pretty sheets of gelatine are now made, which
receive colours of considerable brilliancy, and
have a semi-transparency, which adds greatly
to their ornate effect. Gold, too, may be
combined with the colours in a rich and delicate
degree; and it is these qualities which
seem to have suggested the employment of
such a substance in the imitative art now
under notice. As to the manufacture of the
gelatine sheets themselves, it is one of the
countless examples afforded by modern
chemistry of the production of useful substances
from that which is either refuse, or at most
a very common and cheap article. It is an
illustration of the Penny Wisdom which has
already received a little attention in Household
Words.* Glass being transparent, while
wood is opaque, and gelatine sheets being
more transparent than sheets of coloured
paper or coloured linen, we see at once the
basis on which the new art claims to have
some superiority over its predecessor. The
coloration is effected inside the glass: this
alone is sufficient to ensure a smooth exterior.
One of the novelties of late years has been
the production of brilliant globes and vessels
of glass, in which the brilliancy results from
the use of coloured glass coated behind with
a layer of silver. The new art has no direct
analogy with this; but the one may serve, in
some degree, to show how the other may
produce softly-beautiful effects by the