THE Prince of Ch'u said to his prime minister,[1] “What have you done that should cause the officers and people of this State to abuse you so clamorously?”
“Abuse me indeed they do,” replied the minister; “but pardon my boldness, and I will explain. A stranger was singing in one of our villages the other day, and this was the subject of his lay:―There is the music of the masses; there is the music of a narrower circle; that of a narrower circle still; and lastly, the classical music of the cultured few. This classical music is too lofty, and too difficult of comprehension, for the masses.[2]
“Among birds there is the phœnix: among fishes, the leviathan. The phœnix soars aloft, cleaving the red clouds, with the blue firmament above it, away into the uttermost realms of space. But what can the poor hedge-quail know of the grandeur of heaven and earth? The leviathan rises in the morning in one ocean to go to rest at night in another. But what can the minnow of a puddle know of the depth of the sea?
“And there are phœnixes and leviathans, not only among birds and fishes, but among men. There is the Sage, full of nervous thought and of unsullied fame, who dwells complacently alone. What can the vulgar herd know of me?”
- ↑ Sc. to the writer.
- ↑ It is vulgarly believed that the Chinese have no music―worthy the name. That they had what they themselves were pleased to call music, a thousand years before Christ, is beyond all doubt; and an idea of its æsthetic value may be gathered from the following extracts from the Tso Chuan (see p. 5):― They sang to him the Odes of Chou. “Admirable!” said he; “this is the expression of earnest endeavour, without any resentment.” They sang to him the Odes of P'ei. “Admirable!” said he; “here are those who sorrow, and yet are not distressed.”They sang to him the Odes of Pin. “Admirable!” said he; “they are expressive of enjoyment without license.” They sang to him the Odes of Wei. “Admirable!” said he; “what harmony! Here is grandeur with delicacy, like a defile, dangerous, yet easily traversed.” Their ancient music, however, disappeared, and with it the Canon of Music which was formerly included among the Six Classics (now Five), at some period subsequent to the campaign of Alexander the Great in Central Asia. The music of Greece took its place; “cette fille ailée,” said Professor Chavannes, “du génie hellenique erra jusque chez les Chinois qui furent émerveillés de sa beauté, mais qui ne surent pas lui conserver sa pureté native.”