In these cases only a partial transmutation had taken place, affecting the glaze alone. But the idea of transmutation in the fire was carried farther in the Chinese imagination, and stories grew of cases in which "the vessel throughout was changed and became wonderful." Su Tung–p´o has, for instance, left a poem on a vase organ, in the preface of which it is related[288] that in the year 1100 A. D., "while they were drinking at a farewell banquet to Liu Chi–chung, they heard the sounds of an organ and flute," and that on investigation "it was discovered that the sounds came out of a pair of vases, and that they stopped when the meal was over." Another story of the Sung dynasty tells of a wonderful basin in which the moisture remaining after it had been emptied displayed, when frozen, a fresh pattern every day. At first it was a spray of peach blossom, then a branch of peony with two flowers, then a winter landscape, "with water and villages of bamboo houses, wild geese flying, and herons standing upon one leg."
The story of the "self–warming cups" told by an early Sung writer[289] evidently belongs to the realm of pure fiction: "In the treasury of T´ien Pao (742 A. D.) there were green (ch´ing) ware (tz´ŭ) wine cups with markings like tangled silk. They were thin as paper. When wine was poured into them it gradually grew warm. Then it had the appearance of steaming, and next of boiling. Hence the name 'self–warming cups.'"
Scarcely less marvellous is the incident recorded in the Yü chang ta shih chi, written about 1454.[290] "At the time when the temple of the god (of pottery) was in existence, an Imperial order was given to Ching–tê Chên to make a wind–screen; but it was not successful, and was changed in the kiln into a bed six feet long and one foot high. At the second attempt it was again changed and became a boat three feet long. Inside the boat were the various fittings all complete. The officials of the prefecture and district all saw it. But it was pounded to pieces with a pestle, for they did not dare to let it go to court." Another story[291] tells how Chia and I (John Doe and Richard Roe) when hunting were led in pursuit of a wounded hare into an ancient tomb in the mountains, where they found a large jar containing two white porcelain vases and an ink slab. Chia broke one of the vases, but I stopped any further vandalism and carried the other specimens home. He used the vase for flowers, but for several days he noticed "an, emanation from within issuing from the Yin yün (generative power of nature) like a vapour of cloud." Being puzzled, he tried plucking the stalks of the flowers, and "found that they contained no moisture, and yet the plants did not wither. Moreover, the buds kept strong, as if they had rooted in the clay of the vase. So he began to be astonished at the vase, regarding it as a kind of yao pien. One day, during a great storm of wind and rain, suddenly there was a flash and a peal of thunder, and the vase was shaken to pieces. I was very much alarmed and distressed."
The Yang hsien ming hu hsi speaks of instances in which the Yi–hsing teapots were affected in a peculiar way, the ware changing from drab to rosy red when filled with tea; and we have already seen that Hsiang Yüan–p'ien illustrates in his Album examples of this, which he solemnly assures us he would not have believed had he not seen it happen before his eyes. In all these cases the ware was supposed to have been completely changed in the kiln and to have acquired supernatural properties. "The magic of the god had entered into the ware in the firing and had not left it."
CHAPTER XI
PORCELAIN AND ITS BEGINNINGS
THE reader will have noticed that the word porcelain, which was avoided in the discussion of the earlier periods, has insensibly crept into the chapters which deal with the Sung wares. It was no longer right or proper that it should be excluded, and it is high time that our attitude on the interesting question of its origin was defined. Unfortunately, that attitude is still—and must necessarily remain—one of doubt and uncertainty, but we can at least clear away some of the existing misapprehensions on the subject.
The myth which carried back the manufacture of porcelain some eighteen centuries before our era has been definitely discredited, and the snuff bottles supposed to have been found in ancient Egyptian tombs which gave rise to the idea are now known to be of quite modern make. The more modest computation which placed the invention in the Han dynasty (206 B. C. to 220 A. D.) might have been almost as lightly dismissed had not Dr. Bushell, after disposing of the theory in his Oriental Ceramic Art[292] in 1899, seen fit to reverse his decision in later publications.[293]