we find that the instrument has been further improved by attaching a gourd to the bow, and thus providing it with a permanent resonating body. To achieve greater musical results, it would appear that somewhere in Africa (in the West, I suspect) two or more small bows were attached to a single gourd. I have, so far been unable to trace this particular link in Africa itself, but, curiously enough, this very form has been obtained from Guiana. It may be thought that I am applying a breaking strain to the chain of evidence when I endeavour to work an instrument from South America into an African developmental series. But, when we recall the fact that evidence of the existence of indigenous stringed instruments of music in the New World has yet to be produced, coupled with the certain knowledge that a considerable number of varieties of musical instruments, stringed and otherwise, accompanied the enforced migration of African natives during the days of the slave trade, and were thus established in use and perpetuated in many parts of the New World, including the north-east regions of South America, we may, I think, admit with some confidence that in this particular instance from Guiana to Guinea is no very far cry, and that the more than probable African origin of this instrument from South America gives it a perfect claim to take its place in the African sequence. I still anticipate that this type of instrument will be forthcoming from some hinterland region in West Africa. Were no evidence at all forthcoming of such a form, either in past or present, we should be almost compelled to infer that such a one had existed, as this stage in the sequence appears to be necessary to prevent a break in the continuity of forms leading to what is apparently the next important stage, represented by a type of instrument common in West Africa, having five little bows, each carrying its string, and all of which are fixed by their lower ends into a boxlike wooden resonator. This method of attaching the bows to the now improved body of the instrument necessitates the lower attachment of the strings being transferred from the bows to the body, so that the bow-like form begins to disappear. The next improvement, of which there is evidence from existing types consists in the substitution of a single, stouter, curved rod for the five little "bows," all the five strings being serially attached to the upper end of the rod, their lower ends to the body as before. This instrument is something rare now, and it may well be a source of wonder to us that it has survived at all (unless it be to assist the ethnologist), since it is an almost aggressively inefficient form, owing to the row of strings being brought into two different planes at right angles to one another. The structure of this rude instrument gives it a quaintly composite appearance, suggesting that it is a banjo at one end and a harp at the other. This is due to the strings remaining, as in the preceding form, attached to the resonating body in a line disposed transversely, while the substitution of a single rod for the five "bows" has necessitated the disposal of their upper

attachments in a longitudinal series as regards the longer axis of the instrument. Inefficient though it be, this instrument occupies an important position in the apparent chain of evolution, leading on as it does through some intermediate types to a form in which the difficulty as regards the strings is overcome by attaching their lower ends in a longitudinal series, and so bringing them into the same plane throughout their length, In this shape the instrument has assumed a harp-like form—a rude and not very effective one, it is true, but it is none the less definitely a member of the harp family. The modern varieties of this type extend across Africa from west to east, and the harps of ancient Egypt, Assyria, Greece, and India were assuredly elaborations of this primitive form. The Indian form, closely resembling that of ancient Egypt, still survives in Burma, whilst elsewhere we find a few apparently allied forms. In all these forms of the harp, from the rudest Central and West African types to the highest ornate, and many-stringed examples of Egypt and the East, one point is especially noteworthy. This is the invariable absence of the fore-pillar, which in the modern harps of Western Europe is so important, nay, essential, a structural feature. In spite of the skill and care exercised in the construction of some of the more elaborate forms, none were fitted with a fore-pillar, the result being that the frame across which the strings were stretched was always weak and disposed to yield more or less to the strain caused by the tension of the strings. This implied that, even when the strings were not unduly strained, the tightening up of one of them to raise its pitch necessarily caused a greater or less slackening of all the other strings, since the free end of the rod or "neck" would tend to be drawn slightly towards the body of the instrument under the increased tension. One can picture the soul-destroying agonies endured by two performers upon these harps when endeavouring, if they ever did so, to bring their refractory instruments into unison, while, as for the orchestral music of the old Assyrian days - well, perhaps we had better not attempt to picture that! The mere addition of a simple, strut-like support between the free end of the "neck" and the "body" would have obviated this difficulty and rendered the instrument relatively efficient and unyielding to varying tension. And yet, even in Western Europe, this seemingly obvious and invaluable addition did not appear, as far as I can ascertain, until about the 7th or 8th century A.D.; and even then it seems to have been added somewhat half-heartedly, and a very long time had yet to elapse before the fore-pillar became an integral part of the framework and was allotted its due proportion in the general design.

I have purposely selected this particular series for my illustration, not because it is something newindeed, it is already more or less familiar, and may be has even some merit in its lack of newness, since, in accordance with a popular dictum, it may urge a greater claim to be regarded as true -nor because it

is specially striking, but rather for the reason that it illustrates suitably several of the points upon which I wish briefly to touch. Even in the severely condensed form in which I have been obliged to present this series of developments from bow to harp, there is, I think, demonstrated the practical application of several of the general principles upon which is based the theory whereby Colonel Lane Fox sought to elucidate the phenomena of human progress.

Correspondence.

DAMMING THE THAMES.

During the last two or three years various proposals have been put forward for construction of dams or solid weirs across the Thames. These plans generally include sluices, overflow outlets, or other adjuncts. Some of these have been advocated or sought to be justified under the notion of economising the waters of the river, and, mainly, with the object of enlarging its scope for pleasure purposes. These seemed to be the chief motives on behalf of the scheme for constructing a huge dam across from Putney to Chelsea, which not long ago caught on with mere popular opinion. No serious public examination of these schemes has yet been undertaken (so far as I am aware); but now the Society's Journal, of September 2nd (see ante, p. 783), puts before us-transferred from the proceedings of the British Association, held at Cambridge-a grand project, by far the most ambitious, not to say heroic, yet broached. This gives definite specifications for construction of a huge masonry dam, or "barrage," across the river from Gravesend to Tilbury. The objects of this stupendous scheme are the largest possible: and, in themselves, worthy to invite support from the highest sentiments of patriotism, alike metropolitan and national. These comprise-Control of the enormous volume of commerce flowing into and out of the Port of London; a perennial supply of fresh water, without going to Wales; clearing away the foul-smelling mud banks that now disfigure the river; and, above all, providing a harbour of refuge for our (retreating) fleet, and our arsenals, now at the mercy of an enemy, at Woolwich and Chatham, thus providing an absolute protection against invaders.

Well, this is magnificent; but my humble wish is to raise the previous question-Is it business? The only excuse for "putting in my oar" is that, during many years, my attention has, now and again, been drawn to the ever open subject of the navigation and most effective utilisation of the manifold facilities afforded by the tidal river system of the Thames. But, being a layman, in view of the various engineering questions that arise, it behoves me to keep,

mainly, to interrogative suggestions. It may be a taking idea to "control" the floating commerce of our metropolitan seaport; but what must be the effects of "controlling" the great rise of tide on what its access depends? and what other physical results must follow from checking the natural scour of the river which keeps the estuary open? And what will be done to protect or regulate the lines of the banks, more so on the southern side? Mr. Casey will point to his sluices and overflow outlets; but what engineer will define the relation between the absolute artificial obstruction of such a big deep dam, and the present natural force of the outflowing tide and river itself? Then as to consequences that may arise below the dam to the estuary itself from this attempt to "control" the incalculable forces of the tides in and out? What gigantic dredging operations can compensate for the rapid silting that must occur to the natural mouth of the river itself? What would be the value of the large artificial "pool" if ocean liners and our retreating fleet (save the mark!) could not get into it, should "the proposed depth of 30 feet" be shallowed even for a day or two, to 25 or it might be 20 feet? As to the effect on the river bed above the dam when the natural scour should be abated, would there not soon be widening mud-banks which would baffle the wits of the Thames Conservancy to control? As regards this aspect of the matter there is one minor initial question which does not seem to have been yet answered, namely, what proportion or percentage of the natural flow of the river has been checked or restricted by the moderate interruption caused by the Richmond weir and the Tower-bridge piers?

However, this note of interrogation or warning may suffice to challenge the opinion of experienced harbour, and other civil engineers. To myself, as an outsider, this bold and ingeniously devised scheme seems at variance with the old maxim, "Nature is to conquered by obeying her laws," whereas this begins by defying her. W. MARTIN WOOD.

Weybridge, Sept. 23.

General Notes.

HISTORIC HOUSES.-Messrs. Knight Bros. have produced a series of picture post-cards illustrative of twelve London houses which have been the residences of eminent persons. Eleven of these are houses which have been distinguished by Society of Arts tablets, and were associated with the names of Lord Byron, Sir Joshua Reynolds, Dr. Johnson, Michael Faraday. Robert Browning, Mrs. Browning, Keats, Sheridan, Sir Robert Walpole, David Garrick, and Hogarth, The twelfth is the reputed birthplace of Lord Beaconsfield, in Theobald's-road.

a thin glaze without and within. And so throughout long ages the art developed, use

THE MAJOLICA AND GLAZED
EARTHENWARE OF TUSCANY.
BY PROF. R. LANGTON DOUGLAS, M.A.
Lecture I.-Delivered April 25th, 1904.

I. THE MAJOLICA OF SIENA.

Of all the arts that of the potter is one of the most ancient and most universal. It is, moreover, one of the most artistic and one of the most human. It is one of the most artistic; for it does not rely for its effect on the costliness of its materials. Earthenware at least, glazed or unglazed, is made from clay from an inexpensive material—and all its beauty is due to the constructive imagination of the artist and his skill of hand. It is one of the most human of the arts, in that, like architecture, it springs directly out of social needs. It is not less true of styles of pottery than of styles of architecture that they grow out of their social environment just as a tree grows out of the soil, and are conditioned by their social environment just as a tree is conditioned by its physical environment. For this reason, the study of ceramics is scarcely less important to the sociologist and the historian than to the connoisseur and the student of æsthetics.

At first men fashioned vessels of coarse, unselected clay, and rude in form, which were hardened by drying in the sun. Then they took to ornamenting them with simple scratched lines, straight or curved. Subsequently it became customary to harden earthenware by baking. Later on the vessels were made less porous by covering them with

until in Greece men were able to make vessels lovely in form and in decoration, and withal durable.

The branch of the potter's art of which I propose to tell a portion of the story in these lectures, is that known as majolica. The term majolica in its present significance connotes all glazed, or partially glazed, or enamelled wares. That it once had a narrower meaning is, I think, certain. It was first applied to the wares that came from Malaga, Valencia, and Majorca, or, as it was then called, Maiorica or Majolica. And, just as in England of the thirteenth century, all Italian bankers, whether Sienese or Florentines, Venetians or Milanese, were called Lombards, so all Hispano-Moresque pottery was given the name of one of its places of origin. A protectionist law passed in Venice in the year 1437 forbade the importation of all pottery ware except those "from Majolica." Thirty-seven years later in a decree of the republic the word majolica was applied to the wares themselves, and we read of "Majolica di Valenza." And in the year 1477 we find, in a similar measure promulgated by the government of Siena, the term maiorica" obviously applied to the glazed and lustred wares of Valencia and Malaga.

Some think that the term majolica ought again to be confined to glazed and lustred wares. But such a reform is impossible. In England or Italy the term majolica is now universally applied to glazed and enamelled earthenware.

When, where, and in what way the process of glazing pottery was first discovered it is impossible to say. Speaking generally, three kinds of glaze are known to us-the vitreous, the plumbeous, or lead glaze, and the stanniferous, or tin glaze. Of these glazes the vitreous was the first to be invented. It certainly originated in the East, and probably in Egypt, Babylonia, or Phoenicia. In the art of the potter, as in architecture, necessity is the mother of invention. Men felt the need of making their vessels less porous. The discovery of glass suggested to some potter the means of attaining this end. Clay vessels were dipped in the liquid glass. It was found, however, that the vitreous substance would not adhere properly to the clay. Ultimately this difficulty was got over "by mixing with the clay siliceous sand, aluminous earth, and

probably," says Drury Fortnum, "a small portion of alkali." Thus, the body became of a more kindred substance to the glaze, and glaze and body firmly adhered to each other.

The vitreous glaze was translucent. When these early Eastern wares began to be decorated with colour, the pigment was applied to the piece before it was dipped into the glaze. It was in this way that the beautiful turquoise blue tiles and vessels of Egypt were coloured by the application of an oxide of copper.

The first or vitreous glaze was subsequently made more fusible by the addition of oxide of lead, and thus was obtained the lead or plumbeous glaze. This plumbeous glaze was certainly known in the East, having been found in Babylonian tiles that have been subjected to analysis; but it never came into general use in the Orient. In the south of Europe and in the western part of Asia Minor, a lead glaze was freely used, and it was probably brought into the west by Greek and Oriental potters. Its use, however, had not spread far in Italy before the general decay of art under the later Empire affected ceramics. And it was not until the twelfth century that a revival of the art began in northern Italy, probably under Byzantine influences. In the following century its progress was accelerated by an important change in the process of decoration. The natural colour of the clay-a buff, dull red, or brown colour-was not, it was felt, a suitable background for colour ornamentation. The practice was, therefore, adopted of covering the body of the piece with a white slip. A white, argillaceous earth was carefully ground and refined, and then mixed with water. The vessel was dipped into this and then dried in the sun. A pattern was then scratched through this white surface to the buff, or dull red, clay underneath. The vessel was then covered with the translucent lead glaze and fired. The ware that has a covering of white slip was styled mezzamajolica. When covered with incised ornament it has been styled sgraffiato ware.

Small bowls, or bacini, made of this ware, were used in the decoration of palaces and churches. Almost all known examples of these bacini are of Italian origin. But for my part I see no ground at all for calling in question the old tradition that the first bacini so used were trophies brought from the Balearic Isles by the Pisan seamen after their victories over the Moors. It is an undoubted fact that of this

practice of adorning buildings with small bowls and plates Pisa was the chief centre. Pisa was a great maritime power, in constant communication both with Spain and with the Orient; and in her architecture are to be seen other traces of Oriental influence. It is, moreover, an undoubted fact that one of the bacini found in the church of St. Cecilia was of Oriental origin.

The third and latest form of glazing was the stanniferous. It was discovered that the plumbeous glaze, by the addition of a small quantity of oxide of tin, became white and opaque, and afforded a beautiful surface for the application of colour ornament. The vessel to be decorated was dipped in this stanniferous glaze, which was dried. Upon this absorbent surface the painter executed his decoration. The piece was then fired, and the firing both fixed the colour and liquified the glaze.

This white or stanniferous glaze was known in Persia in the time of Darius, and has been found on Babylonian bricks, but it was never generally adopted in the East. Probably it was merely used there as a white pigment. It was in the Moorish potteries in Spain, and in the Balearic Isles, in the thirteenth century, that the stanniferous glaze first came into general use. At the same time, the Hispano-Moresque potters generally adopted the practice of decorating their finer wares with metallic lustre. This lustre was produced by the reduction of certain metallic salts in the reverberatory furnace; which process left a thin film of metal on the surface of the piece. Lustre, like the stanniferous glaze itself, has been found on very early pieces in the East, as well as on specimens supposed to have been produced by Oriental potters in Sicily. But it was in Valencia, Malaga, and Majorca, in the early part of the fourteenth century, that this process of metallic decoration first reached perfection in Europe.

In the fourteenth century, there grew up an important trade in majolica between Italy and Spain. Plates and vessels from Majorca and Valencia were admitted free of duty, and were much prized. The free trade in this ware spurred on the Italian potters to improve the quality of their own products, and to seek to learn the processes in use in the fabbriche of Valencia and the west. Quite early in this age they adopted the stanniferous glaze; towards the close of the next century the lustre process began to be practised at Diruta and Pesaro.

Throughout the fifteenth century some fab

briche had continued to make large decorative pieces of mezza-majolica, and the earliest plates decorated with metallic lustre are of this ware. But the knowledge of the lustre process acquired by the potters of these cities east of the Apennines, was only partial. The potters of Spain guarded jealously the mysteries of their art. And it was not until Galgano di Belforte, a potter of Siena, had, by strategy won his secret from a master potter at Valencia, that the process was fully understood in Italy. Then Maestro di Giorgio of Gubbio raised the art to the greatest height it attained in the peninsula. And in the same period such masters as Niccolò da Urbino, the Mazzaburroni and Bernardino di Matteo of Siena, and Maestro Benedetto produced unlustred wares of consummate beauty.

Having given this brief account of the rise of the art in Italy, I will relate the story of one of the most ancient and important of Italian potteries, that of Siena. There was a time when it was denied that Siena had a place amongst the historic centres of the art. Urbino de Gheltof asserted that there had never been a factory of artistic wares at Siena. Professor Argnani, a most patriotic Faventine, declares that the Sienese pottery was a lateborn off-shoot of Faenza. Drury Fortnum surmised that the fabbrica of Siena took its origin from Cafaggiolo, a private pottery of the later Medici.

Some years ago, in an article in the Nineteenth Century, I demonstrated that Siena was one of the oldest and the most important of the centres where artistic wares were produced. Since that article was published, I have collected a good deal of evidence which corroborates my conclusions. It can now be shown that the fabbriche of Siena in which the most beautiful pieces were made were large potteries employing many craftsmen, and that a great variety of artistic wares was manufactured in this city, amongst which were multitudinous copies of classical vases, as well as lustred pieces.

It was only natural that Siena should become an early centre of this art upon its revival in Italy. The country round the city produced excellent materials for the potter. From the clay obtained near Siena could be made a body of good hard quality, whilst in the neighbourhood was also found the white terra di Siena, most prized of all the substances that were used by Italian potters as a slip to cover the surface of the mezza-majolica, before its

decoration and the application of the transparent glaze. We are not surprised, therefore, when we find this manufacture the subject of regulation in the great Sienese statute of 1262. "No Sienese," the clause runs, "shall have or hold, within the city's walls, any furnace in which pottery is baked." This stringent prohibition was, however, soon relaxed; for fifty years later we find many potters the owners of furnaces within the walls, and ultimately there was a large colony of these artists near the San Marco Gate, in the south-west corner of the city.

In

That some of these potters produced artistic wares can no longer be doubted. In certain Sienese inventories of 1291 and 1293, published by Professor Zdekauer in his Vita privata dei Senesi, we find mention of painted wares. a document, too, of the year 1298, in the Archives of Siena, there are allusions to glazed and painted earthenware. Fragments of mezza-majolica have frequently come to light in the city, and the contado, and several of these are now in my possession. I have recently found at Orgiale, near the site of the great castle of the Imperial Counts, a small decorated tazza of the Dugento, which is at least of equal artistic merit to the pieces of this date that have been unearthed at Faenza and other Italian cities. Moreover, at the Spedale di S. Maria della Scala are three jugs of the trecento, made by the vasaio to the hospital, which prove that at that early date, as in a later age, the wealthy hospital employed ceramic artists of the first order. And in pictures of Duccio and Ambrogio Lorenzetti, painted in the first quarter of the fourteenth century, there are representations of beautiful jugs, vases, and pots, bearing in some cases Oriental designs.

A distinguished connoisseur, Mr. Henry Wallis, whilst admitting that some of these pieces may be of Sienese origin, will not allow that any of the finer vessels in these pictures were of Oriental design, or of local manufacture. I believe that further research will prove this conclusion to be mistaken. A great art movement always begins with imitation. For even in art, the most dynamic thing in the world, there is no such thing as spontaneous generation. There has never been an artistic Melchisedech. Chaucer began as a translator and an imitator. The young Raphael was the ape of Perugino. An artist likes to think that artistically he is a kind of aristocratic Topsy. It is not so. His art was born in a respectable, commonplace way. It has its hereditary