In the English county of Cornwall are great beds of what is
called “china clay.” You may take up a lump of this substance
and examine it in vain with the view of discovering anything
admirable or beautiful. But one day you may be traveling in
the English midlands, where you may be invited to inspect the
factories in which are made the exquisite Royal Worcester
porcelain or the equally precious Wedgwood ware. You will
be fascinated by everything you see. The same dead, cold,
repellent, ugly clay you saw in Cornwall you are now admiring
with ecstasy. It has been brought to the potteries, and touched
by the fire, and painted by the artist, so that it rivals even
the loveliest flowers in delicacy and beauty.
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