name of an example which might be out of the ordinary, or be able to tell where it was made. Ask of them what a “Mecca” is, and they will stammer in their varying answers. And yet the Armenians who handle most of the rugs in this country are often highly educated, and fully appreciate the beauty of their wares. Their taste, however, is not always our taste, and all the Orientalists seem to retain their barbaric fondness for crude and startling colours. When we would turn to books for information in the matter we find that the authorities are not many. They might be numbered on your fingers and thumbs. These few books, moreover, have been published only in limited editions at high prices, and are not easily obtainable. One of the most important of such works is the sumptuously illustrated, elephantine folio, issued in Vienna in 1892 by the Imperial and Royal Austrian and Commercial Museum. And, elaborate as this authority is, the modest editor, by way of apology, says in the preface that “no pretensions are made toward perfection owing to the little information that we can fall back upon.” A recent authority on the subject is John Kimberly Mumford, and his volume on Oriental Rugs, published in 1900, has thrown much light on the subject. Too great praise cannot be given to this work and to his later studies in the same field.

Still, no one knows it all, and the mystery of Oriental rugs only deepens as we try to learn. The little that any one may really know of them through experience, through questioning and elusive answers, through conversations with obliging and polite vendors, and through foreign travel even, is, when all is said, only a patchwork of knowledge. Consider how stupendous and hopeless would be the task of one who would dare endeavour to analyze, criticise, classify, and co-ordinate the paintings of the past five centuries, were no names signed to them or no appreciable number of pictures painted by the same known artist.

He who would write of rugs has a like condition to face.

And alas! also, whoever would write on this subject must now treat of it principally as history. The characteristic rugs, the antique rugs, the rare specimens, are seldom to be bought. They are in museums, or in the hands of collectors who hold them in even a tighter fist.

Twenty years ago the warning was given that the choice old rugs were growing scarce; the years following found fewer still upon the market. Two or three years ago one of the largest wholesale houses in New York, carrying a stock of half a million or a million dollars, had no antiques to show. In the autumn of 1902, another large New York importer who had just returned from Persia, Tiflis, and Constantinople admitted that he had not brought back one valuable antique piece.

Nevertheless, the true enthusiast need not be discouraged. From wandering dealers, in odd corners, at the unexpected or by chance, one may happen on a choice specimen.

The very word “Persian” is a synonym for opulence, splendour, gorgeousness; and “Oriental” means beauty and wonder and the magic of the “Arabian Nights.” From the Aladdin’s cave of the mystical East, therefore, we may still hope to gather treasure and spoil.

GENERAL CLASSIFICATION

Chapter II

GENERAL CLASSIFICATION

Most of the rugs of commerce in this country come from Persia, Turkey, Asia Minor, Turkestan, the southern part of Russia, Afghanistan, and Beluchistan; a few also from India. The rugs are named from the provinces or cities where they are woven, and to the uninitiated, the names seem to have been as fearfully and wonderfully made as the rugs themselves. They are spelled one way on the maps and every other way in catalogues and advertisements. In enumerating the most familiar ones it may be well to write their names as nearly phonetically and conventionally as possible. A few rugs have trade appellations only, without regard to topography; and, often, unknown towns are called into requisition for fanciful titles to please the purchaser.

Of course the names of rugs may mean nothing to your man-of-all-work, whose duty it is to chastise them upon the lawn. But there is poetry in the names of the roses, and you cannot half enjoy their beauty unless you know a Mabel Morrison from the Baroness Rothschild; Cécile Brunner from the Earl of Dufferin; or can give the proper rank and title to Captain Christy, General Jacqueminot, and Maréchal Niel. And who would dare to talk of laces that could not give a French or Dutch or Irish name to them? Or, when painted pictures instead of woven ones were under discussion, who would venture to admit that he had heard for the first time the names of some of the Old Masters, or did not know any of the Flemish School, or could not at least touch his hat to a Gainsborough or a Romney? There were “old masters” in wool as well as on canvas, as the Gheordez rugs most particularly prove, and though the artists’ signatures are missing or meaningless, their classification is important. Once learned, and then difficult to remember withal, rugs answer to their names like old and familiar friends. If Homer catalogued the ships, surely the masterpieces of the Eastern loom are worthy of brief nomenclature.

The Persians come first, and perhaps in the following order of excellence: Kirman, Sehna, Kurdistan, Khorassan, Serabend, Youraghan, Joshghan (Tjoshghan), Feraghan, Shiraz, Gulistan, Mousul, etc. The rug dealers frequently speak of a “Persian Iran,” but as Iran is the native expression for Persia, the name is as tautological as are the dealer’s laudatory adjectives. So far as the term “Iran” can be differentiated, it is now applied with some propriety to rare old Persian rugs of fine weave only, whose proper name may be in doubt.

Among the Turkish rugs, which are mainly those from Asia Minor, the Yourdez (or Gheordez), the Koulahs, Koniahs, and Ladiks are by far the finest, and then come the Bergamas, vying often for like high honour, the Melez, and many others which are vaguely classed as Anatolians.

From Turkestan come the numerous Bokharas and the more uncommon Samarkands; from Afghanistan, the Afghans and the Khiva, and Yamoud-Bokharas. But the two rugs last named seem to have a doubtful paternity, and should perhaps be classed with the other Bokharas.

Beluchistan sends but one type, which is generally unmistakable, although Afghans, Bokharas, and Beluchistans all have a family likeness.

To Caucasia in Russia are credited the Kabistans, Shirvans, Chichis (Tzi-tzis), Darbends, Karabaghs, Kazaks, and Gengias, also the Soumacs, or so-called Cashmeres. The first four of these are somewhat similar in character, and not many years ago were generally sold in this country under the indiscriminate title of Daghestans. We are more specific in our knowledge now, and can classify and differentiate an old Baku rug, or a Kuba, which is a Kubistan, and therefore what we used to call an antique Kabistan.

India provides us only with some fine large carpets mostly of modern make, and also with many imitations of Persian rugs, made in