"The willow-pattern that we knew
In childhood. with its bridge of blue,
Leading to unknown thoroughfares."
----Keramos, Longfellow.
Peradventure some who read these rambling paragraphs may be the
fortunate possessor of a few pieces of that willow-pattern, blue
or pink china table ware which was but too lightly esteemed when
it was a common heritage of English and American families. If
not, a vivid remembrance of the ware and of the fancies which it
inspired, must be little less prized by those who cherish such
associations with home and childhood. We are tempted here to
recall some of our own reminiscences of old china, which the
impatient reader may excusably skip for more serious matter.
From the semi-aquatic summer-house with roof curving upward like
an inverted umbrella, imprinted upon a favorite tea-plate, we
often sallied forth in fancy to explore the Chinese world as
portrayed in blue or pink upon earthen table-ware of the olden
time. And what a world! How artfully adapted to childish
notions, how convenient for bird's-eye views, this arrangement of
lofty mountain peaks, deep gorges, and rocks of fantastic forms,
tangled up with examples of nature subdued by Chinese art in
landscape gardening and ornate architecture. In the near distance
(far and near are the same in Chinese art), we behold a slender
streak of waterfall descending from mountain peaks a thousand
feet or height by comparison; a broad flight of stone stairs
leading up to a palace or temple of intricate construction and
marvellous ornamentation; a majestic river a mile or two in
width, winding serenely by these wonders of nature and art, but
submitting to be spanned by a single arch of bridge, perhaps
thrice the length of the Chinaman advancing over its camel-humped
back, who placidly regards from under his ruffle-edged umbrella
the pleasure boats floating beneath him. A little group of high-
born Chinese ladies in holiday attire are seated in a garden of
potted plants on the river's bank, drinking tea, flirting their
fans, and doubtless talking over the latest Court gossip. Nearby
is a willow, not the stiff, ugly tree now seen upon tame and
degenerate imitations of real old China pottery, but a graceful
weeping-willow, whose drooping branches sweep the opposite
shore, as sublimely indifferent to distance as the untrammeled
artist himself.
No hint here of imperative human toil, or of human need, or of
anything but present enjoyment and rest; it is a picture of
contented, comfortable existence, for dreamy contemplation, amid
a grouping of art and nature that calmly defies probability and
challenges the impossible.
But perhaps the Chinese artist had more justification for his
incredible fancies than we have imagined. Strange contradictions
occur in China, judged by our conventional standards, and there
are surprises and incongruities even in their actual landscapes,
which are unsuspected by thousands of our intelligent countrymen.
Some examples of such departure from our notions of natural and
of artificial scenery are given in the illustrations of this
work.