Also
it is interesting to observe in this connection the influence of tea
on Chinese ceramics. The Celestial porcelain, as is well known, had
its origin in an attempt to reproduce the exquisite shade of jade,
resulting, in the Tang dynasty, in the blue glaze of the south, and the
white glaze of the north. Luwuh considered the blue as the ideal colour
for the tea-cup, as it lent additional greenness to the beverage,
whereas the white made it look pinkish and distasteful. It was because
he used cake-tea. Later on, when the tea masters of Sung took to the
powdered tea, they preferred heavy bowls of blue-black and dark brown.
The Mings, with their steeped tea, rejoiced in light ware of white
porcelain.

In the fifth chapter Luwuh describes the method of making tea.
He eliminates all ingredients except salt. He dwells also on the
much-discussed question of the choice of water and the degree of boiling
it. According to him, the mountain spring is the best, the river water
and the spring water come next in the order of excellence. There are
three stages of boiling: the first boil is when the little bubbles
like the eye of fishes swim on the surface; the second boil is when the
bubbles are like crystal beads rolling in a fountain; the third boil
is when the billows surge wildly in the kettle. The Cake-tea is roasted
before the fire until it becomes soft like a baby's arm and is shredded
into powder between pieces of fine paper. Salt is put in the first boil,
the tea in the second. At the third boil, a dipperful of cold water is
poured into the kettle to settle the tea and revive the "youth of the
water." Then the beverage was poured into cups and drunk. O nectar! The
filmy leaflet hung like scaly clouds in a serene sky or floated like
waterlilies on emerald streams. It was of such a beverage that Lotung, a
Tang poet, wrote: "The first cup moistens my lips and throat, the second
cup breaks my loneliness, the third cup searches my barren entrail but
to find therein some five thousand volumes of odd ideographs. The fourth
cup raises a slight perspiration,--all the wrong of life passes away
through my pores. At the fifth cup I am purified; the sixth cup calls me
to the realms of the immortals. The seventh cup--ah, but I could take
no more! I only feel the breath of cool wind that rises in my sleeves.
Where is Horaisan? Let me ride on this sweet breeze and waft away
thither."

The remaining chapters of the "Chaking" treat of the v