WE may here conveniently say something of the marks found on Chinese porcelain. We do not propose to give any systematic account of these marks—this is a subject indeed to which a disproportionate amount of space has perhaps been devoted in some works on porcelain—but rather to collect a few notes on points of interest.

Tang-ying in his report to the emperor on the manufacture of porcelain, from which we have lately quoted, tells us that during all the processes of turning on the lathe, painting and glazing, a solid bar is left at the base of the vase by which it is conveniently handled. This bar or handle is at length cut off short, and the base of the stump is scooped out to form the foot of the future vessel. It is at this stage that the inscription is written by a special artist on the centre of the base, and then brushed over with a coat of the glaze, which does not extend over the rim to join the rest of the glazed surface. Thus we see that the writing of the inscription and the glazing of the base are subsequent to and independent of the decoration of the rest of the vase. In whatever style this decoration may be, the inscription is generally written in cobalt blue under the glaze.

There are many varieties of Chinese writing. We pass from the oldest ‘tadpole’ forms, by way of the chuan or seal character, to the kai-shÛ, which takes the place roughly of our ordinary printed letters. Of this last, the square detached strokes pass when written with a brush into the more flowing ‘grass’ character. The kai-shÛ style is the one most frequently found on porcelain, or at least a form something between it and the grass hand. The seal character, however, was much favoured by the Manchu emperors, and since the time of Kang-he has been practically the only one used for the imperial nien-hao (Pl. A. 10-12).[72]

The Chinese have two methods of indicating a date: first, by a cycle of sixty years; second, by the name given to the whole or part of the reign of an emperor. With the first we are not concerned, it is found so rarely on porcelain.[73] The other, the imperial date or nien-hao, has been in use ever since the time of the Han dynasty (say roughly from the beginning of our era). Very early dates of this kind are often found on bronzes, where, however, they are no more to be relied on than in the case of porcelain. The inscription occurs in two forms:—first, the six word form where the emperor’s name is preceded by that of the dynasty, thus: Ta Tsing Kang-he nien chi,—‘Made in the reign of the Emperor Kang-he of the great Tsing or Manchu dynasty’ (Pl. A. 8); or second, the first line with the name of the dynasty may be omitted, leaving only the emperor’s name and the words nien chi, ‘year made,‘—for example, Cheng-hua nien chi (Pl. A. 3).

The name by which we know the emperor of China was not his personal or family name, but was assumed on ascending the throne, and in old times was frequently changed. But from the time of the Sung dynasty such a change has only once occurred. This was in the case of the unfortunate Ming emperor Cheng-tung, to whom we referred on (p. page 93. We rarely find the name of any emperor of an earlier time than the Ming dynasty on porcelain, and the few instances that do occur are obvious forgeries. Perhaps the earliest date on Chinese porcelain with any claim to authority is the nien-hao of Yung-lo (1402-25), in quaint ‘tadpole’ characters engraved in the paste beneath the glaze. This inscription occurs on the thin bowl of Ting ware in the British Museum, described on page 67 (Pl. A. 1).

We have said before, and we cannot too strongly impress this fact upon the reader, that the vast majority of the Ming marks so frequently found on Chinese porcelain are of no value. They teach us nothing themselves, and when we can accept them it is on evidence derived from other sources. As Franks observed many years ago, all we can say is that a piece of porcelain is not older than the date which it bears.

When we find the date inscribed in a horizontal line round the neck of a vase, as is not infrequent in later Ming times, especially in the reign of Wan-li[74] (1572-1619), more reliance may perhaps be put on it, as regards ware of Chinese origin at least, for the Japanese were very fond of decorating their blue and white ware with Ming inscriptions placed in this position.

We have innumerable vases in our collections undoubtedly made in the reign of the great Kang-he (1661-1722),[75] but his reign-mark is comparatively rarely found. The absence of this nien-hao is usually explained by a proclamation, issued in 1677, which has been preserved in the Chinese books, forbidding the inscription of the imperial name on porcelain. With this proclamation the empty double ring of blue often found on the base of vases of this time may perhaps be connected. Many of the finest pieces, however, bear no mark of any kind.

In place of these date-marks we may often find an inscription stating that the piece was made at a certain Tang—for example, Shun ti tang chi—literally ‘Cultivation virtue hall made’ (Pl. B. 17). We have here translated the character tang by the somewhat vague word ‘hall,’ but it is doubtful whether the inscription should be rendered ‘made for the Shun-ti pavilion,’ i.e. for the imperial palace, or rather, ‘made at the Shun-ti hall,‘—that is to say, at the studio or factory of that name, presumably at King-te-chen. The best authorities, however, are in favour of the latter rendering (Bushell, p. 78 seq., and the Franks Catalogue, p. 213), and they regard these so-called hall-marks as more or less equivalent to the signature of the manufacturer. The character tang is sometimes replaced by other words, as tsuan, a balcony; ting, a summer-house; or chai, a studio. This last word is the Japanese sai, which so often forms a part of the adopted names of Japanese artists, as for example Hoku-sai, which means the ‘northern studio.’ The Japanese potter often signs his work, and even in China we find in a few cases a name, that of the painter, inscribed in the field of the decoration,—we have already mentioned some instances of signatures found in this position ((p. page 108).

Of another kind is the inscription found on certain egg-shell cups of the time of Wan-li (1572-1619). These cups, of which we have no specimens unfortunately in our collections, were made by a famous poet-potter who signs himself Hu yin tao jen, or ‘the Taoist hidden in a pot.’ The reference is to a Taoist recluse (what the Japanese know as a Sennin) who when disinclined for society was in the habit of retiring into his gourd-bottle. At the same time, as Dr. Hirth has pointed out, the words form an excellent motto for an artist—the true expression of whose genius we seek in his works.

There is a third class of marks which celebrate the beauty of the vessel on which they are inscribed or, more rarely, refer to the subject of the decoration. A large number of these are illustrated in Franks’s Catalogue of Oriental Porcelain. We will merely quote as examples ‘A gem among precious jewels of rare jade’ (Pl. B. 16), and, with reference to the decoration, which in this case includes some red fishes, ‘Enjoying themselves in the waters’ (Pl. B. 44). Such rather tame sentences do not teach us much. More suggestive is the inscription we find on a cylindrical vase for holding writing materials: ‘Scholarship lofty as the hills and the Great Bear’ (Pl. B. 15)—a fit motto for the desk of the student.

The Emblems or Devices that so frequently occur in lieu of inscriptions on Chinese porcelain are well illustrated in the British Museum catalogue. They are, however, of little or no value in classifying or dating the pieces on which they are found—they can seldom be connected with any known manufacturer or artist. Such devices are generally symbolic, above all of long life, riches, and honours, the three things desired by a Chinaman, and I suppose that they are more or less vaguely expected to bring to the owner the good luck that they suggest.

Some of these devices remind us of the ‘canting’ charges and badges of our heraldry. Thus a bat (Pl. B. 19 a.) is in Chinese called fu, but the same word also means happiness; so again a peach is shu, but shu means also long life. The characters for happiness (Pl. B. 23) and long life (Pl. B. 19), we may mention, are of constant appearance, the first usually as a mark on the base, the second as an integral part of the decoration, on both Chinese and Japanese porcelain. Such interest, then, as can be found in these marks is derived rather from the light they throw upon the working of the Chinese mind than from any information they give us about the porcelain on which they are inscribed.