HISTORY OF CHINESE MUSIC.[87]
In Brande’s dictionary of arts and sciences, under the head of “Chinese
music,” the whole fabric of Chinese music is swept away in one short
sentence, at the close of which, the compiler curtly says,—“We ought,
perhaps to apologize for saying _so much_ of it.”
No right minded and just reader will echo so flippant an opinion; a
nation which more than four thousand years ago, had studied music as an
abstract science and which understood the laws of musical proportion
centuries before Pythagoras was born, certainly deserves more than a
passing notice from the musical historian, no matter how barbarous its
present music may seem.
The Chinese life and character, while apparently full of fancy, is in
reality quite emptily rational and pragmatic. In all the scientific
facts relating to music, the Chinese made early and thorough
investigations, but in that inventive inspiration which is the soul of
art, they seem to have been deficient. They possess a very full account
of their music both of modern and ancient days. Their musical history
teems with facts, and anecdotes, dating back far beyond every other
nation except the Egyptian. Their literature contains a vast number of
treatises and comments on the musical art, many of which are, however,
couched in very mystical and ambiguous language. In the Imperial library
at Pekin, there are four hundred and eighty-two books on this subject
exclusively.[88]
The invention of music, is ascribed by the Chinese to supernatural
beings.
The emperor Chi-hoang-che, who reigned in the time of the spirits, is
said to have invented the rules of pronunciation, the written characters
of the Chinese language, and finally music.[89] A mythological character
named Tong-how composed the earliest songs.
Kai-tien-chi, the ninth emperor of this spiritual dynasty, is credited
with many of the earliest songs. He also invented eight kinds of
instruments (which will be described later) the names of which are
certainly poetical enough,—
1. Love the people. 2. The black bird. 3. Don’t cut the trees. 4.
Cultivate the eight different grains. 5. Chant the celestial doctrines.
6. Celebrate the merits of the sovereign. 7. Imitate the virtues of the
earth. 8. Recall the memory of all existing things.
These names were probably given to the instruments from the special
songs which each accompanied.
Tcho-yung, a successor of the preceding emperor, is said once to have
listened to the songs of the birds, while the empire was in a state of
profound peace, and their singing caused him to invent a music which
penetrated every where, speaking to the intelligence, calming the
passions of the heart, causing perfect equilibrium in the emotions,
facilitating and improving the use of all the senses, and prolonging the
life of man.
The name of this music was _Tsie-ven_—“Temperance and mercy.”
This beautiful legend of the birds, seems almost Greek in its poetry,
but there exists yet another mythological bird in the Chinese tales,
which is extraordinarily like the Egyptian Phœnix. The _Foang-hoang_ was
a bird whose nest and abiding-place was wrapt up in mystery; it appeared
in China only at the birth of a good ruler, and its coming was always a
happy presage to the nation. The Chinese mythology, so far as it relates
to music, is evidently a traditional history, and poetically relates
actual occurrences, showing that, in all probability, their music
existed, and was highly esteemed in pre-historic times.
The authentic history of Chinese music may be said to begin with Fo-hi,
the first of the Ty dynasty, and the founder of the Chinese empire. He
reigned about 2950 B. C.[90] All good qualities seem to have been united
in this beneficent ruler; in all ways he sought to benefit his race.
It was not as an amusement, but as a means of popularizing his thoughts
on all sciences, that he regulated and arranged the system of music. His
first song celebrated his triumph over ignorance and barbarism; soon
after he composed the “Fisher’s song” in which he relates how he had
taught modes of fishing to the natives. He invented the kin, a stringed
instrument in the style of the modern zither, but with cords of silk,
and in it he symbolized all manner of things.
He rounded the upper part to represent Heaven; he flattened the lower
part to resemble the earth; one part of the instrument was called “The
abode of the dragon” (representing the breezes of Heaven); another part
was entitled “The nest of the Foang-hoang” (to betoken the seasons of
the year). By means of this instrument he could regulate his heart, and
curb his passions.[91]
“Those who would play the Kin,” says the Chinese commentator, “and draw
sounds from it which can charm, must have a grave countenance and well
regulated interior, they should pick it lightly, and give a tone neither
too high, nor low.”[92]
Many Chinese writers attribute some of the inventions which are credited
to Fo-hi, to his wife Niu-va, a supernatural personage who was regarded
as a holy and miraculous virgin in the Chinese annals.[93] The truth
about Fo-hi seems to be that he was a remarkably good man and a
benefactor to his race, and therefore many useful inventions, and
wonderful adventures are attached to his name, which cannot be
authenticated. Some writers consider him a myth, which is scarcely a
tenable position; others have endeavored to prove him to be neither more
nor less than the Noah of the Bible. There is little doubt that he made
improvements in Chinese music, and, by exaggeration, was called its
inventor. A Chinese writer in giving to the invention a greater
antiquity, beautifully says “Music had its cradle in the heart of man.”
Chin-noung, successor of Fo-hi, was also a good ruler; his chief works
in music seem to have been some alterations in the _Che_ (a sort of
_Kin_) and he was able by his playing to turn the heart of man, from
intemperate life, to celestial truth.
Hoang-ti, the next emperor, had music scientifically investigated and
established natural rules to the art. The reign of Hoang-ti is supposed
to have been about 2,600 B. C. In his day music though practised, was
not understood in its natural elements.
The Chinese even at that day, based all other sciences on music, and
sought to make this art (in a mystical and hyperbolical way) the
foundation of all others. The emperor therefore ordered Ling-lun to give
his attention to the development of the laws of music. The fables on the
subject of his researches are innumerable; he travelled to the
north-western part of China and took up his abode on a high mountain,
near which was a large growth of bamboos. Ling-lun took a bamboo, which
he cut between two knots; he removed the pith, and blowing in the tube,
a sound resulted which was of the exact pitch of the human voice when in
its normal state. Not far off was the source of the Hoang-ho, and
Ling-lun found that the tone of his tube was similar to the sound given
by the waters of that river in bubbling from the earth; thus was
discovered the first _Lu_, (or Li) the fundamental tone.
Ling-lun was pursuing his investigations further, when the Foang-hoang
appeared with its mate and perched upon a neighboring tree. The male
bird sang in six different tones, while the female also used six, but
different from the preceding. The first note of the mystical
Foang-hoang, was precisely in unison with the reed which Ling-lun had
cut from the bamboo.
On ascertaining this, the fable continues, Ling-lun cut twelve pieces of
bamboo and pitched them according to the notes of the two songsters; he
found by alternating the sounds of the male with the female bird, that
he had a chromatic scale. The six tones of the male were called the
_li-yang_ (masculine tones) the other six _li-yn_ (feminine tones), and
throughout all Chinese music, the distinction between the male and
female tones of the scale still exists. This was the first Chinese
discovery of the proportions of sound, the first step in the science of
Acoustics, and though covered over with fable and allegory, it really
preceded the discoveries of Pythagoras by many centuries; Ling-lun went
back to the emperor’s court and there measured and fixed the pitch of
the Chinese scale forever. Bells were also made of the official pitch,
that it might easily be perpetuated.
Hoang-ti also had immense trumpets made which imitated “the voice of
dragons,” and drums which sounded “like thunder.” This monarch was as
great and good in all arts and sciences, as he was in music. He seems to
have been a Chinese “king Alfred.” After him, came Chao-hao, at whose
accession the Foang-hoang again appeared, intimating thereby another
prosperous reign in this line of good and musical emperors. Chao-hao
invented the idea of marking the divisions of the night by strokes of a
drum, and also had founded a set of twelve copper bells, to represent
the twelve months of the year. He used all his efforts to make music
popular, and invented new modes of playing, making the _yang_ and _yn_
less distinct from each other, that is uniting the more powerful tones
(male) with the weaker (female). It is said that he first introduced
songs in honor of the ancestors, which play a very important part in
Chinese music, and that these hymns were performed for the first time,
in honor of the amiable emperor Hoang-ti.
The emperors next following, all protected and encouraged music. The
first songs, that is of a secular style, were composed about 2456 B. C.
At this time also, many new instruments were invented, and old ones
improved. With the reign of Yao, 2357 B. C., the chronological record of
Chinese emperors and their doings becomes much clearer. Under this
emperor, China had a season of great peace and prosperity. He invented
the instrument of musical stones, called the _king_, (to be described
later) and received the stones specially adapted to its manufacture, as
tribute from various provinces.
Chun, who succeeded him, though of low birth (he was nominated to the
throne by Yao) continued to advance the progress of music, and used it,
as the Greek philosophers did later, to prepare himself for public
business.
“It was to the sound of the _kin_,” says the Chinese historian,[94]
“that the great emperor Chun prepared to deal with the affairs of the
empire, and to the melody of the _kin_ is due the love and care which he
constantly gave to his people.” Chun composed the following song, words
and music, on the above instrument; it may be taken as a specimen of
very early Chinese improvisation.
“The breeze of midday brings warmth and dispels sorrow; may it be the
same with Chun; may he be the joy and the consolation of his people. The
breeze of midday causes the grain to grow, which is the hope of the
people; even so Oh, Chun! be thou the hope and the wealth of thy
subjects,” etc.
Chun also wrote a song in praise of agriculture. In the year 2284 B. C.,
he established uniformity of weight and measure, as well as a fixed
diapason throughout the empire, and endeavored to have all the bells
made in just proportions to each other. He also caused to be composed, a
melody celebrating the nine principal virtues; it was accompanied with
dances, in nine parts and contained nine modulations; it was named
_Siao-chao_ from the instruments which the dancers held in their hand.
Chun established five grand ceremonials, in each of which music bore a
part. First, a ceremony of rejoicing, in honor of Chang-ti (the supreme
being) and of the celestial spirits. Second, a festival in honor of the
ancestors. Third, a military celebration, in honor of the former
dissensions of the empire having given way to a tranquil peace. Fourth,
a feast dedicated to courtesy, when the beauties of concord and goodwill
were sung. Fifth and last, a ceremony in which the inter-dependence of
man was remembered, and the manifold blessings accruing by mutual
beneficence, chanted.
Chun also appointed a superintendent of music, who was to see that the
art was always exercised in its proper direction.
Kouei was appointed censor, and the instructions of the emperor to him,
are full of good sense. “Music should follow the sense of the words.”
“It should be simple and unaffected.” “Music is an expression of the
soul of the musician;” such sentiments as these show a keen appreciation
of the art, which seems all the more singular when we think of the
peculiar music to which it relates. The music of the time of Chun, is
rapturously eulogized by Confucius.
Yu, the great, only followed the example of his predecessors in setting
to music the most moral precepts and praising virtue, in song. It may
perhaps have been this association of high thoughts and ideas, the noble
character of the poetry, which gave music such a charm in the eyes of
the ancient Chinese. Yu made use of some primitive instruments, in a new
and very laudable manner;[95] desirous of being easily accessible to all
his subjects, he caused to be placed at a gate of his palace, five
instruments of percussion, which were to be struck by any applicant,
according to the nature of his business with the emperor.
A large bell announced a person who desired to complain of an injustice;
a drum signified a communication respecting the manners of the empire;
and a small bell, private or confidential business; a _tam-tam_, a
public or private misfortune; a tambourine, an accusation of crime which
was appealed from some lower tribunal to the adjudication of the
emperor.
This kindly emperor, regulated what was still deficient in music, and
did it so thoroughly that no further changes were necessary until the
Hia dynasty became extinct. The last of the above mentioned dynasty was
(for a change) a most vicious emperor. Kie was, according to the
chroniclers, a sort of Mongolian Caligula, and his memory is execrated.
The next dynasty, called Chang, after a prosperous series of emperors,
also ended with an atrocious tyrant called Tchow, who invented a
luxurious style of music, and is said to have first established the
feast of lanterns. He was deprived of throne and life by violence.
Ou-wang a later ruler, is chiefly celebrated for his military music, for
which he seems to have had a _penchant_ and of which he composed
considerable. One of his pieces was intended for performance while the
army formed itself in order of battle.
In his day, the discipline of music was very thoroughly attended to.
Every ceremony and rite had its appropriate music attached; the
musicians had to undergo two examinations each year, and all innovations
either in composition, or in the shaping of musical instruments was
jealously guarded against. No special features appear in the musical
history of China during the next few reigns.
In the reign of Koang-tsee, a valuable treatise on music was published,
which is still highly esteemed. At this era also were established
Mandarins of music and of the dance. At this epoch flourished the great
Kong-fu-tsee, or Confucius, the leader of Chinese thought and
philosophy.
This sage’s name was simply Kong, but his disciples added the title,
_fu-tsee_, which makes the meaning of the whole, Kong, the instructor,
or master. This was Latinized by the Jesuit missionaries into Confucius.
This philosopher cultivated the study of music and seems to have
esteemed it as highly as the Greek philosophers did a century later. He
revised and arranged many of the old books on musical ceremonies and
rites. He learnt the art in a distant province, as in his native place
music was but little known.
While in the kingdom of Tchi, Confucius heard some of the ancient music
of the days of Chun performed. The effect on him was so marvellous, that
for three months he scarcely could eat, for thinking of it. “I should
never have believed,” he said, “that composers could reach such a
pinnacle of perfection.”[96]
It is also said that Confucius was an excellent performer on the musical
stones of the _king_. Once while playing on this instrument a passer by
struck with the beauty of his performance, paused to listen, and
exclaimed “surely one who can play thus, must have his soul occupied
with great thoughts.”
In the later days of his wanderings, when he was reduced to the
extremity of poverty and starvation, he sang and played as usual,
showing no signs of depression or despondency. One of his disciples
ventured a reproach, asking how he could sing when they were all
famishing; he replied; “the wise man seeks by music, to strengthen the
weakness of his soul, the thoughtless one uses it to stifle his fears.”
The facts relating to Confucius, his wanderings and life are full of
anecdotes relating to his extreme love of the art, and are probably
authentic. The family of Confucius still exists in his native province,
having passed intact through sixty-eight or sixty-nine generations; they
are honored by special privileges and distinctions and are the most
notable hereditary aristocracy of China. It may be mentioned here, that
all the philosophers and literati of the empire were musicians as well:
in this respect strongly resembling the sages of Greece.
The theatre began to progress greatly in this era, (sixth century B.
C.), and one emperor was censured for devoting too much time to his
comedians, and too little to the worthy celebration of the ancestral
feast. The arts received a severe check when the Tchin or Tsin dynasty
obtained control of the entire realm. These were in reality the first
who united the various provinces under one rule, and who bore, with
right, the title of Hoang, or emperor. It is from this dynasty that
China takes its name (Tchina or Tsina). One of this set of conquerors,
Tchi-chi-hoang-ti, desirous of obliterating the memories of former
glories, which might prove prejudicial to his own, attempted, in 245 B.
C., a proscription of all science and art.
He commanded all ancient books to be burnt, and especially caused strict
search to be made for the books which Confucius had collected and
revised. Only works on agriculture and medicine were to be spared. A
large number of literary persons who had concealed part of their books
were put to death; yet many continued to risk their lives to preserve
the fruits of ancient culture. Books were hidden in walls of houses, in
tombs, and buried in the earth, whence they were long afterward
recovered. The emperor in proclaiming this war on literature gave as his
reason that the ancient books did not suit that era, that they were a
hindrance to progress, that they caused the people to neglect
agriculture which was the only substantial happiness of a nation, and
that they gave to the people liberty to censure the sovereign, and by
consequence, fostered disobedience and rebellion. Of course in this
universal persecution, music did not fare better than the other arts.
All instruments were ordered to be destroyed and made over after new
models. The bells which had given the standard pitch up to that time,
were melted down, and many of them used for the purpose of founding
colossal statues to deck the entrance of the imperial palace. But,
according to La Fage,[97] it was much easier for the musicians to evade
the emperor’s decree, and save their instruments, than for the literati
to save their precious books. There were few instruments and they were
less rigorously sought after, and it was an easy matter to conceal bells
or the _kings_ (musical stones) by burying them in the earth whence they
could be exhumed intact at any later period. Therefore in spite of the
exertions of the emperor, the ancient traditions and arts could not be
wholly extinguished; a spark still remained from which the torch of
science and art could be re-lit.
It was this despotic emperor, however, who built the _Wan-li-chang_ or
great wall of China, therefore his influence upon the empire was not
wholly exerted for evil, but rather directed towards the establishment
of himself and descendants as permanent rulers of China. The rule was
short however, for in 206 B. C. the _Han_ dynasty governed the empire.
The first of this family, named Kao, endeavored to repair the ravages
made in the field of learning by the Tsin despots.
He caused extensive search to be made in order that the ancient pitch,
division of tone, and system of modulation might be discovered. It was
partially unavailing, for we learn that though music was established in
all its splendor under the subsequent reign of Vow-ti, yet many writers
of that era (about 140 B. C.) assert that the art of regulating the
heart by means of music, was irretrievably lost, and that it only seemed
to inflame the baser passions.
In fact at this time, music was chiefly an adjunct of the theatre, and
each day brought forth new comedies, concerts, or ballets. A terrible
scandal was created in the reign of Tching-ti (an emperor who reigned
shortly after) by that sovereign taking one of his beautiful _corps de
ballet_, to wife.
These ballet dancers seem also to have been talented singers, and were
of similar station, though far inferior in talents, to the _Hetaræ_ of
ancient Greece. In the time of the last named ruler, there were found on
the bank of a river, sixteen ancient musical stones or _kings_, and the
fact that the sovereign esteemed this one of the most glorious events of
his reign, shows how earnest and persistent was the endeavor to reclaim
the old school of music from oblivion.
Between the years A. D. 8, and 23, many books relative to music were
written; the Chinese, however, assert that all of these were founded on
a false system and contained many errors. About A. D. 60, the president
of the tribunal of rites and music, made great efforts to collect the
remains of ancient knowledge, and place music once more upon its old,
pure basis. The work written by him was highly esteemed by the literati
but unfortunately, the musicians had become used entirely to the newer,
and less pure style of music, and were too lazy to care about learning
any new modes; therefore all manner of difficulties were placed in the
way of Pao-yé, and the reform was unsuccessful.
Tching-ti, A. D. 280, had at his court ten thousand women, who were all
proficient singers and players. Ngai-ti, one of his successors, tried to
remedy the luxury and effeminacy which had crept into every department
of music. He dismissed all his musicians, except those who performed at
sacred rites, or in military music (these being countenanced by ancient
usage) and all the troupes of singing girls were also broken up. The
poor musicians thus thrown out of employment numbered four hundred and
forty. The singing girls were yet more numerous.
These reforms seem to have been of short duration, for almost always,
after an emperor who enthusiastically attacked these abuses, came one
who with equal fervor, protected them.
One sovereign, A. D. 289, had at his palace five thousand actresses, and
the fourth successor of the reformer who dismissed his musicians, named
Tsin-ou-ti, although a lover of music, was also a great lover of luxury.
His greatest delight was to enervate the officials of high rank by
inviting them to carousals which he would extend far into the night, and
when the censors remonstrated with him on his course, he heard them
patiently; he would then invite them to dinner for the same day, and
there cause them to drink so copiously that they had to be carried
home.[98]
An emperor who reigned about 503 A. D. banished comedy and music from
the palace, and also established the funeral festival in honor of
Confucius, in which sacred music played a part.
Tay-tsung, who ascended the throne A. D. 626, was an active and thorough
reformer in music as in all other arts which needed his helping hand. In
the year 640, he turned his attention, after having brought the empire
to a state of peace, to bringing music back to its ancient and pristine
glory. In pursuance of this design, he ordered that everything relating
to ancient music, books as well as instruments, should be sent to his
court. An immense quantity of books, fragments, memoirs, old and new
instruments, etc., were discovered and collected, which were handed over
to a committee of _savans_, whose duty it was to retain the good, reject
the bad, and systematize the whole. Much was discovered by this means;
books were printed and the art of music received a strong impetus; but
still the Chinese held that the full beauty of the ancient art could not
be unearthed, perhaps because they could find nothing in it equaling
their expectations: but Tay-tsung for his efforts in the matter, was
ever after held in the highest esteem by the Chinese, who rank him with
the great and good rulers, Hoang-ti, Yao, etc.
Tay-tsung also composed, or caused to be composed, a war dance,
accompanied with the appropriate music; it was intended to inspire the
soldiers with virtue and courage, and to make them emulate heroes.
Under the emperors who came immediately after, comedy and theatrical
representations flourished. The musicians were always kept within the
limits of their caste however. A chief comedian once permitted himself
to make an allusion to state affairs, in a play; the emperor listened to
him with much attention, (the Chinese politeness is such that they will
accord the most respectful attention to a person whom they would like to
strangle,) but after the performance called the actor aside and told him
that he kept his troupe to amuse, not to advise him, and sent the poor
fellow into exile.
Another time a very talented musician committed a murder, and was
sentenced to death therefor; several officials endeavored to obtain his
pardon, and a number of musicians presented a petition to the emperor
acknowledging that the culprit was very guilty and fully deserved his
fate, but that his talents in music could not be replaced, and that
therefore his life should be spared. The emperor’s reply was a worthy
one, “you fear damage to the art of music” said he, “but I fear damage
to the laws and government of the empire.” The sentence was executed.
One emperor dared to raise a musician to special rank, and thus defied
the strong respect for caste, which existed in China.
Y-tsung, the causer of this great scandal, had in his service a great
performer, named Li-ko-ki, who was an especial favorite. One day when
Li-ko-ki had composed a specially agreeable song, the emperor, without
considering his profession, gave him the post of captain of the guards.
It caused an immense excitement among the sticklers for etiquette, for
all previous emperors, when they gave office to their musicians, first
caused them to renounce their profession, while Li-ko-ki still continued
in the practice of music; the emperor however carried his point. Y-tsung
also showered other unusual honors upon the members of this profession,
for it was his custom to give a dozen festivals each month, when the
musical _corps_ were allowed to eat at his own table.
In traveling, of which he was very fond, he rarely took along less than
five hundred musicians.
Under the last prince of the Tang dynasty there came many disasters upon
the Chinese empire, and the successful inroads of the Tartar invaders,
were most of all prejudicial to music; at one time the emperor was
forced to fly from the capital, his palace was pillaged, and the musical
instruments in it, either destroyed, or carried off to Tartary. When
peace had been concluded and tranquillity reigned again, there was an
earnest effort made to manufacture new instruments, but in doing this,
great obstacles had to be surmounted, the models were dispersed or lost,
and the official pitch was uncertain. A great search was made for the
set of bells which represented the authorized ancient scale, but in
vain; large sums were offered to the Tartars if they would make
restitution of those which had been carried off at the sacking of the
imperial palace, but these savages, after long delays, replied that they
could not ascertain what had become of the captured instruments.
Thus another disturbing influence was imported into the Chinese music;
but it was still as highly-prized an art as of old, for soon after these
calamities came rulers who were passionately devoted to it;
Tchowang-song, gave two provinces to a pair of favorite musicians; and a
subsequent emperor (_a la Nero_) took to the stage himself, in spite of
the horror of his remonstrating censors.
Music and art took a new impetus under the Song dynasty (A. D. 960 to
1279), and very many books were written, on music especially, but alas!
there was now so much uncertainty in the field of ancient (and therefore
in Chinese eyes correct) music, that the commentators fell into the same
pit which engulfed the modern decipherers of ancient Greek music, i. e.,
they speedily came to all kinds of varying and irreconcilable
conclusions. One thing they resolved however, which was that the bells
which gave the official scale were not correct; they therefore founded a
new set, which were so satisfactory to the emperor and his advisers,
that the former ordered his own official bells to be given to the
founders for recasting. The musicians were very ill pleased with the new
system, although obliged to conform to it, and yet determined that all
trace of the ancient scale should not be lost. They managed by
connivance with some officials to save a complete set. The bells were
indeed removed from the tribunal of music and rites, but instead of
being thrown into the furnace, they were with the tacit consent of high
authorities, buried in a court-yard of the palace, and long afterward
exhumed.
Tsai-yu, one of the later emperors, studied deeply to place music on a
secure footing,[99] and it is remarkable that his researches into the
proportions of tones, led him to the same results that were _afterwards_
discovered by the best acousticians of Europe.
Kang-Hi, in the year 1678-9, worked for the art in an extraordinary
manner; he founded an academy of music, and made his third son president
of the institution; he wrote a work, “The true method of the Ly-lu,” in
four books, and had a fifth added “_concerning European music_.”[100] In
a proclamation concerning the diminution of the number of
court-musicians, Kang-hi says, “Music has power to quiet the heart, and
therefore was beloved by our sages. They also could while enjoying
themselves at its practice, benefit themselves, because the fundamental
principles of government are contained in the art of music. But such a
comparison scarcely is suitable to virtuosity. Why, therefore, expend
money on it? I approve of the action of Ngai-Ti, (a former emperor) in
discharging them.”
The knowledge of European music, which this emperor attained, in
opposition to all previous custom in China, came through the Jesuit
missionary Pereira, a Portuguese by birth; and Grimaldi, a missionary of
the Propaganda. He found it (contrary to the custom of the Chinese)
quite to his taste.[101] He was particularly astounded by the ability of
Father Pereira to set down in notes, and sing any melody, after a single
hearing. He begged his two guests to prepare a work containing the
elements of European harmony, and on their completion of it, he had it
printed at his palace in a sumptuous manner, and as an especial honor,
he had his own name added to it as their coadjutor. He now forced his
musicians to learn and to play French, German and Italian music; they
did so quite exactly, but most mechanically and with much unwillingness,
for it was contrary to all their ideas of art or propriety. Kang-hi saw
that the effort would be useless unless he used severe measures in
enforcing his reform, and like a wise man he yielded and allowed his
performers to return to their own beloved style of music. But the spirit
of reform was yet in him, and so far as he was able, he introduced many
innovations and many alterations into all departments of Chinese music.
He made a proclamation saying that the old instruments though very good
were quite worn out, and that as new ones were necessary, he had
prepared a list of the ones required. One of these _instruments_, can
scarcely be called a musical one, as it was simply a flag, which was to
be displayed during the continuance of the musical performance.
Kang-hi is spoken of with much rapture by the Jesuit missionaries, for
he was not only European in his taste for music; he not only tolerated,
but greatly favored Christianity, and at one time it was feared by his
court, that he was about to embrace that faith. The real secret of his
intimacy with the Catholic missionaries, seems to have been only a great
desire on his part, to acquire new information.
He was greatly interested in the mechanism of a clavichord, which the
fathers brought with them to China, and ordered two of his musicians to
take lessons from them, upon the instrument; the pupils made very little
progress, as they were rather unwilling students.
It was not only in the emperor’s court, at this epoch, that European
music began to be known; many persons throughout all the empire, sought
to pave the way to Imperial favor by studying the new art. The method of
Father Pereira had been sent into each province by the emperor, and the
ancient _Li_ were for a time eclipsed by the _Do, re, mi_, etc., of the
“western barbarians.” It might have been a permanent reform, but for the
fact that the Chinese had always been accustomed to associate their
music in a peculiar manner, with virtue and morality; each tone
represented some moral precept, each species of the eight varieties of
sound represented to their mind some high thought or noble virtue; it
was this association of ideas, which evoked the eulogies of Confucius,
and it was this time-honored custom which prevented European music from
obtaining any foothold among them. When, a short time after, Amiot
endeavored to ingratiate himself with the Mandarins by means of his
music, he failed utterly, through the same cause.
He thus relates his effort:—
“I understood music passably well; I played the traverse flute and the
clavichord; I used all these little talents to make myself welcome to
the Chinese. On different occasions during the first years of my stay in
Pekin, I never failed to endeavor to convince those who heard me, that
our music, excelled that of their own country.”
It is to be remembered that these were educated persons, able to compare
and to judge; persons of the first rank, who honoring the French
missionaries with their kindness, came often to their abode to entertain
themselves with them, with various matters relative to the sciences or
arts cultivated in China.
“The cyclops,” “The savages,”[102] the most beautiful sonatas, the most
melodious airs of the flute, none of these made any impression on the
Chinese.
“I saw upon their countenances only a cold and vacant look, which
announced to me that I had not touched them in the least. One day I
asked them how they liked our music, and begged that they would tell me
frankly what they thought. They answered in their politest way, that
_our melodies were not made for their ears, nor their ears for our
melodies_, it was not therefore surprising, they could not find beauties
in our melodies, as they could in their own.”
“The melodies of our music,” said a distinguished doctor (in the service
of his majesty, the emperor); “the melodies of our music pass from the
ear to the heart, and from the heart to the soul. We feel them, and we
understand them; those which you have just played, have no such effect
upon us. The airs of our ancient music were something quite different;
one needed but to hear them, to be ravished with them. Our books give to
them the most pompous eulogies; but they tell us at the same time, that
we have, in a great measure, lost the excellent method by which the
ancients produced such marvellous effects.”[103] It is interesting to
place these remarks beside the reiterated opinion of many writers that
the Chinese music is not worthy of being called “music” at all; and then
to turn to that most proper definition of the art,—“Music is the art of
moving the feelings by combinations of sounds.”
The same obstacles exist to-day against change in the music of the
Chinese, as in the days of Kang-hi.
This emperor, in his later days added to the long list of his musical
efforts, a volume treating of dances, and also a collection of the most
celebrated ancient songs. The missionary who mentions this latter
work,[104] assures us that he dares not translate it, lest he should be
accused of placing the sentiments of the most noble psalms in the mouth
of the Chinese.
During Kang-hi’s reign the flute became quite fashionable in China, the
people becoming infatuated with it; Kang-hi himself became proficient in
its use, but on finding, later, that he had not benefited himself in any
way by its use he gave up the practice.
Young-tching, his successor, published new rules for music and assigned
a special music in honor of agriculture and husbandry, which was to be
performed each year. He did not take to the Jesuits as kindly as his
predecessor, for from A. D. 1724 to 1732 he was busily engaged in
expelling them from China.
Khian-long, his son, succeeded him in 1736. There is nothing remarkable
in the history of Chinese music from his day to the present time.
Lord Macartney’s embassy (1793) took place during the long reign of this
emperor. Many persons were attracted to the embassy’s rooms by the
European band which each evening gave a concert. Among the most
assiduous of these visitors was the chief of the emperor’s orchestra;
charmed with the sound of some of their instruments, yet absolutely
refusing to accept of them as a present, he sent several painters to
take designs of them on paper. These artists laid clarinets, flutes,
bassoons, etc., on immense sheets of paper, on which they traced the
exact shape and size of each, while underneath they wrote remarks giving
the exact dimensions of each aperture, valve and tube.
The chief announced his determination of making similar instruments from
these models, but in different proportions, which he proposed to fix for
himself. The result of the experiment is unknown.
The later emperors have all had long reigns, and left music in _status
quo_, the last emperor Hien-fung being only remarkable for his constant
drunkenness. Let us now examine more minutely the order of music which
has inspired such disgust to European ears, and such rapture to the
Chinese from the earliest ages down to the present time.