THE CHINESE THEATRE AND DANCES.
Although the Chinese are passionately fond of plays, yet they do not
possess a good fixed theatre in their chief cities; for those edifices
which are regularly used for this purpose are never of a good class, and
many of them are even considered disreputable. The cream of the
theatrical troupes are reserved for private entertainments; when a
number of people of the middle class desire a comedy, they club together
and engage a troupe. The upper classes, as already stated, have always
their private comedy company. They have also their private halls for
dramatic representations.
The Chinese, have like ourselves, Comedies, Tragedies, Farces, Ballets,
etc., and the music attached to them is always of the style of the play.
There is an excellent description of the ceremonies and social etiquette
used at a private dramatic entertainment, given by Du Halde.[130] He
says, ... “It was then, four or five of the principal comedians were
seen entering the hall, in rich costumes; they made a profound bow all
together, and struck the earth four times with their forehead.... They
arose and their chief addressing one of the principal guests, presented
to him a book composed of long tablets, on which were written, in golden
letters, the names of fifty or sixty comedies, which they knew by heart,
and any of which they were ready to perform on the spot if desired; from
this book they begged the guest to make a choice. The guest excused
himself and handed the volume politely to a second guest, with a sign of
invitation; the second guest passed it to the third with the same
ceremonies, the third to the fourth, etc. All excused themselves, and
finally the book was returned to the comedian, who yielded at last,
opened the book, and ran his eye over the list a moment, and then
decided upon a comedy which he thought would prove agreeable to all the
company. Should there be any inconvenience in producing any particular
play, the comedian-in-chief is expected to announce it; one of these
inconveniences would be, for example, that one of the chief characters
of the play bore a name similar to that of one of the guests. After the
choice the comedian shows to the guests the name of the play which he
has chosen, and each one signifies by a nod of the head, his approval.
The representation begins with some music which is essentially Chinese
and noisy. It is performed with metal basins, drums, flutes, fifes, and
trumpets. The play is often performed at a banquet, and after the guests
have finished their meal, the comedians take their places at the table;
after a short refreshment the guests are recalled and the play proceeded
with, or a new farce is chosen and performed as dessert.”
Many of the plays are not destitute of poetry and plot. It may not be
uninteresting to give a short sketch of the style of incidents woven
into their plays by Chinese authors.
The following is an outline of the plot of a play performed before the
English embassy, Lord Macartney’s, in the latter part of the last
century; it was given in a private theatre, by a private troupe.
“An emperor of China and his empress are living in supreme felicity,
when on a sudden his subjects revolt. A civil war ensues, battles are
fought; and at last, the arch-rebel, who is a general of cavalry,
overcomes his sovereign, kills him with his own hand, and routs the
imperial army.
The captive empress then appears upon the stage, in all the agonies of
despair, naturally resulting from the loss of her husband, and her
dignity, as well as the apprehension of that of her honor. Whilst she is
tearing her hair, and rending the skies with her complaints, the
conqueror enters, approaches her with respect, addresses her in a gentle
tone, soothes her sorrows with his compassion, talks of love and
adoration, and like Richard the Third with Lady Anne, in Shakespeare,
prevails, in less than half an hour, on the Chinese princess to dry up
her tears, to forget her deceased consort, and to yield to a consoling
wooer. The piece concludes with a wedding and a grand procession.”[131]
Engel, who quotes the above plot, well says[132] “how interesting would
it be to the student of national music, to possess an exact notation of
the music belonging to this scene ‘(the empress complaints)’ and to
ascertain in what manner the intense emotions and vehement passions
represented are expressed in the Chinese musical compositions.”
The above plot is curious in its Shakespearian resemblance, and seems to
be a drama of the superior order, for Lord Macartney was shown the
highest and best side of Chinese life and art; the comedies of the
people are less refined and of broader touches. We give as companion
piece to the above, a comedy plot which is a favorite one with Chinese
authors as well as the public.
The emperor Vouti, having lost one of his wives, whom he tenderly loved,
had recourse to a celebrated magician, who assured him that his spouse
was not dead as supposed, for she had bought of him the elixir of
immortality; she still existed, but lived chiefly in the moon from
whence the magician promised he could cause her to descend as often as
desired. The emperor caused to be erected, under the superintendence of
the magician, a very high tower, to facilitate her descent; he also
often assisted at the incantations of the wizard, but as the fair
immortal did not respond, the imposter, fearing the anger of his royal
master, invented a new stratagem to avert this unpleasant conclusion. He
wrote upon a piece of silk a counterfeit letter from the dear defunct
giving various pretended reasons as to why she could not return
personally to the royal lover; this letter is given by the sorcerer to a
cow, who is then led by him to the emperor to whom he confesses that
some involuntary crime has, for the present, interrupted his intercourse
and influence with the immortal beings, but that in the stomach of the
cow he has perceived something; Vouti commands that the animal be opened
on the spot, and the silken message is discovered; the magician is
already enjoying his triumph when it is perceived that the characters of
the communication are in his own handwriting. He is at once condemned to
death, and the emperor thenceforth renounces magicians, immortal
elixirs, etc., etc.[133]
It is well known that the Chinese often give, on the stage, a
representation of the life of the hero of the play from early infancy
(sometimes even _from birth_) to death, and these representations last
weeks in their performance; every action being done deliberately; for
example, if a performer smokes a pipe, he does not give a whiff or two
and then go on with the action, but calmly and placidly smokes it out to
the last puff.
Fairy spectacles, the Chinese also possess, in which Genii appear and
disappear, as well as birds and beasts endowed with the power of speech.
Their farces are of a much broader character, and often in these, the
clownish, awkward character is a European or an American; they heartily
enjoy all his mishaps, even his manner of lifting his hat and bowing,
being held up to ridicule; it is very much the same kind of pleasure as
we “western barbarians” enjoy in seeing such farces as “_Ici on parle
Francais_” or “The Perplexed Dutchman,” where the habits of a Frenchman,
and German, are the mirth-provoking element; or of a piece with the
character of Sir Hugh Evans and Dr. Caius, in Shakespeare’s “Merry Wives
of Windsor.”
There is another point of resemblance in Shakespeare, to the Chinese
drama: his following of the life of Henry VI. so closely and extensively
(through three parts) suggests the more extensive life-history-dramas of
the celestial empire. But the Chinese also give the “outside barbarians”
a thrust, _au serieux_; for in their plays the devil often appears,
dressed as a European.
In the music of their dramas, the Chinese are decidedly Wagnerian, for
not only do they use a great many loud instruments (chiefly of
percussion) but they illustrate with them the action of the drama; when
an actor enters into a combat at arms, the orchestra pound away at their
instruments with redoubled vigor. The characters often sing long _arias_
to the accompaniment of these voice-drowning instruments.[134] There is
much spoken action as well as song in these dramas, which therefore
approach more nearly to our _vaudevilles_ than any thing else.
Choruses are few in Chinese pieces, but sometimes the air is sung by
many voices, in order to emphasize it, and make it more plainly
perceptible above the racket of the orchestra.
The Chinese have also many tragedies and comedies wherein no music
whatever is employed. The actors in these, assuming the ordinary
conversational tone.
Conjugal infelicity and infidelity, form a staple plot with these, and
the same inappropriate and ludicrous entering into detail is apparent in
them.[135]
Movable scenes are not used, and the most infantile devices are used
when a rapid change is necessary; a general having to depart on a
distant expedition, mounts a hobby horse, or even a cane, and using a
small whip with one hand, imitates riding, (three or four times around
the theatre being sufficient) and then, announcing that he has arrived
at his destination, goes on with his speeches without any embarrassment.
This is but one example of the many where the dramatists draw heavily
upon the imagination of their audiences.
The actor on entering (in the play) begins by announcing his name and
telling the audience why and wherefore he has come; this is done to
simplify the following of the action, as in some dramas there are hosts
of characters and one player often assumes many _roles_.
Such puerility is caused partly by the small size of the stages, which
would not admit a host of performers, and partly by the fact that many
of the characters in a Chinese play are comparatively unimportant,
appearing once, and then vanishing forever; in fact at the end of some
of the Chinese dramas, one is considerably mystified as to the fate of
many of the characters, as the author, unlike the European and American
dramatists, who make everybody (except the villain) happy in the last
act, only deems it necessary to follow out closely the career of his
hero and heroine, and they being once dead, the other characters are
allowed to wind up in a very sudden and, to us, very unsatisfactory
manner. The musical part of these dramas is often quite long, and
whenever the actor desires to express much feeling, he falls into music.
Sometimes it is introduced in a most unnatural manner; in one tragedy, a
wife having murdered her husband is sentenced to be _flayed alive_;
after the execution of the sentence, she returns to the stage wholly
bereft of her skin, (this is depicted with true Chinese realistic
effect, the body of the performer being painted in exact imitation of
nature in such a hideous plight) and she then and there sings a song to
excite the pity of the infernal spirits. The song is full of screeches
and howls, and lasts half an hour.[136] Let us not be too hasty in
smiling at such absurd stage effects; there is an opera still performed
on our own stage, where an innocent Jewess is boiled in oil, as
_finale_, and as to the inappropriateness of a long song, under such
circumstances, there is a long chorus in a French opera of the last
century, where the mayor of the village having fallen into the water,
the anxious choristers sing for many minutes, that “he will he drowned
unless he is speedily helped out;” decidedly we must not smile too
broadly at the Chinese, as yet.
Sir John Barrow[137] speaks of the theatre, which he visited, as a mere
“Shed of Bamboo.” He says: “In the farther division of the building, a
party of comedians were engaged in the midst of an historical drama,
when we entered; but on our being seated they broke off, and coming
forward, made before us an obeisance of nine genuflexions and
prostrations, after which they returned to their labors, keeping up an
incessant noise and bustle during our stay. The heat of the day, the
thermometer standing at eighty-one degrees, in the open air, and at
least ten degrees higher in the building, the crowds that thronged to
see the strangers [this was in 1792, when Europeans were great rarities
in China] the horrible crash of the gongs, kettle drums, trumpets, and
squalling flutes, were so stunning and oppressive that nothing but the
novelty of the scene could possibly have detained us a moment.”
“The most entertaining, as well as the least noisy part of the
theatrical exhibition, was a sort of interlude, performed by three young
women, for the amusement it would seem of the principal actress, who sat
as a spectator, in the dress and character of some ancient queen, whilst
an old eunuch, very whimsically dressed, played his antic tricks like a
scaramouch, or buffoon in a Harlequin entertainment.”
“The dialogue in this part, differed entirely from the querulous and
nearly monotonous recitation of the Chinese, being light and comic, and
occasionally interrupted by cheerful airs, which generally concluded
with a chorus. These airs rude and unpolished as they were, appeared to
be regular compositions, and were sung in exactly measured time. One in
particular attracted our attention, whose slow, melancholy movement
breathed the kind of plaintiveness so peculiar to the native airs of the
Scotch, to which indeed it bore a close resemblance.” [We have before
spoken of this resemblance, which proceeds from both scales, Chinese and
Scotch, being pentatonic, or five toned.] “The voices of the women are
shrill and warbling, but some of their cadences were not without melody.
The instruments at each pause gave a few short flourishes, till the
music gradually increased in loudness by the swelling and deafening
gong. Knowing nothing of the language we were of course as ignorant of
the subject as the majority of an English audience is at an Italian
opera.” Thus speaks Barrow of his first impressions of a Chinese
theatre, but he probably fell into two errors; the _women_, whom he
mentions were in all likelihood, eunuchs; and the theatre itself, being
public, was of inferior style to those private establishments which are
the pride of the rich mandarin class.
It is singular, however, that the noise of the gong, tamtam, trumpet,
etc., are inseparable from all Chinese dramatic performances: although
the noise is deafening, and the voices of the actors are sometimes
drowned in spite of their shouting themselves hoarse, yet this
pandemonium only gives tranquil delight to the Chinese spectator whether
he be of high or low class. It is so extraordinary a fact that
physiologists and anatomists have endeavored to prove that the cause is
due to a peculiar formation of the Chinese ear.[138]
Certain it is that the Chinese are so passionately fond of the drama,
that they will sometimes pass many hours in succession in this noisy
entertainment.
There is a tremendous number of comedians in China; most of them are
purchased in early infancy by the chiefs of troupes, and by them trained
in music, singing, declamation, pantomime, and dance. It is a species of
slavery, not very unlike that of old Rome, but is not always life-long.
Some comedians, especially the chiefs, acquire large fortunes in the
exercise of their calling, but the caste is so looked down upon, by the
general public, and the facility of confiscating their fortune is so
great, that they seldom attempt to leave the profession, or make any
display of their wealth, lest it should be seized under any pretext by
some mandarin, in which case (in spite of the theoretical justice of
China) it would probably be beyond recovery.[139]
We may mention here, a peculiar mode of paying actors, in Cochin China.
The occasion described is an entertainment, the expenses of which were
borne by the Quong, or provincial governor. An Englishman who was
present, thus speaks of the affair,—“The Quong was there squatted on a
raised platform in front of the actors, with a small drum before him,
supported in a diagonal position, on which he would strike a tap every
time any part of the performance pleased him; which was also a signal
for his purse bearer to show a small string of about twenty _cash_ to
the actors. To my taste this spoiled the effect of the piece; for every
time the _cash_ fell among them, there would be a silence, and the next
moment a scramble for the money; and it fell so frequently as almost to
keep time with the discordant music of the orchestra.
The actors were engaged by the day, and in this manner received their
payment, the amount of which depended upon the approbation of the
_Quong_, and the number of times he encored them by tapping his drum. I
could see that many of them paid far more attention to the drum than
they did to their performance; though I suppose the amount thrown to
them is equally divided. Sometimes the string on which the _cash_ was
tied, unluckily broke, and the money flew in all directions; by which
some of the by-standers profited, not being honorable enough to hand it
up to the poor actors.[140]
This was a public performance and took place in a large shed, before a
numerous audience. Often the theatrical performances are allowed to take
place in the Joss-houses or houses of worship, the _bonzes_ or priests
being wise enough not to offer any obstacles to a mode of amusement so
thoroughly loved and appreciated by all the Chinese.
It is somewhat singular, and yet in keeping with the custom of the most
ancient nations, that the Chinese should at the same time enjoy the
drama so keenly, and despise the performers of it. The comedians are
kept as thoroughly within their caste as musicians were in Egypt, four
thousand years ago. Parents in China have almost unlimited power over
their children (filial love and obedience is the highest of Chinese
virtues,) they may sell them as slaves, or in some instances kill them,
but they are not allowed to sell them to the troupes of strolling
comedians, or to magicians. Any person so selling them is punished with
one hundred blows of the bamboo, and any go-between or middle-man, in
such transactions, receives a similar dose; any person of free
parentage, marrying an actor or actress, is punished in the same manner,
in spite of the precedent of several emperors. The crime of intimacy
with actresses is punishable with sixty blows, but this is easily
eluded, and the law seems to be obsolete. This punishment is not
attended with much infamy; the bastinado is in fact the lightest of
Chinese punishments. When the number of blows does not exceed twenty,
there is no disgrace whatever attached to the infliction: it is then
considered only a paternal chastisement; the emperor himself often
orders this correction to be administered to high officials for slight
faults, and afterwards treats them as if nothing had happened. After
such paternal punishment is inflicted, the victim goes on his knees to
the judge, bows his head three times to the earth, and _thanks him_ for
the care he has given to the education of his subject.[141]
It is significant that the “State Gazette” of Pekin, which will often
enter into details concerning the death of a private soldier, and give
eulogies to the military valor of the most humble, does not even mention
the decease of the most brilliant and well-known comedian, no matter how
much applause may have been accorded to him while living.
In such a country as China, it is easily imagined that there exists a
large troupe of “comedians to the emperor.” These although not more
superbly costumed than those of some rich mandarins, are clothed in a
peculiar manner. Of course it would not be allowable to turn their backs
upon the emperor, and yet often the action of the play, might demand
that they turn around. This dilemma is overcome by allowing them to wear
two masks, one on the face, the other at the back of their head, and
thus, Janus-like, they can always face the emperor. Their clothing is in
consequence different from that of ordinary actors, having two fronts
and no back.[142]
The _corps_ of singers, declaimers and musicians of all kinds belonging
to the Imperial court, is of course very large.
The dances of China, are as with all Eastern or ancient nations, purely
pantomimical, there are few pirouettes and skips as in our _ballet_. The
names and subjects of some of the earlier dancers, will show this
conclusively; “The labors of Agriculture,” “Joys of the Harvest,” “The
fatigues of War,” “The pleasures of Peace,” “The skill of Hunting,” etc.
These all show a primitive style of the art, and are not far removed
from the dances we shall find in vogue among the most crude children of
nature, such as the Australians, the Bushmen, or the Tasmanians. The
Chinese possess (as did the Egyptians) a number of gymnastic
performances similar to our clog, ballet, and comic dances, but these
come a long way after the dance proper, in the estimation of the people;
the word _ou_ which signifies dance, does not apply to them. We cannot
be surprised if from earliest times the regulation of the dance has been
a matter of State legislation.
The ancient emperor was allowed eight dances, with eight performers to
each, his full troupe containing sixty-four members. Kings of Provinces
had six dances of six performers, thirty-six in all; and thus through
all the upper ranks, literary doctors being allowed only two dances of
two performers each. Only certain instruments were allowed as
accompaniment, and the direction of the whole was always to be in charge
of various musical doctors. There also existed dances which were called
“little dances,” as they were taught to children at a tender age; the
names of some of these are interesting; “the Dance of the Flag,” danced
in honor of the spirits of earth and the harvests, so called because the
dancers waved small banners; “The Dance of the Plumes,” in honor of the
spirits of the four quarters of the world, in which the young dancers
carried a plume of white feathers, attached to a short stick; “The Dance
of the Foang-hoang,” which was danced to induce the assistance of the
mysterious bird (already described) in times of drought, and in which
the dancers held plumes of feathers of five colors; “the Dance of the Ox
Tail,” in which each dancer swings an ox tail; “The Dance of Javelins,”
where this weapon was brandished in honor of river and mountain spirits;
and finally, “the Dance of Man,” in which the hands were quite free, no
accessories being used.
The “Javelin Dance,” was not altogether pleasing to the great
philosopher Confucius. He condemns it as being too war-like, and the
gestures accompanying it, as too savage; as a whole he thought it liable
to inspire cruel sentiments. He preferred the “Dance of the Plumes,” as
containing all the chief elements of the “Javelin Dance” without
tendency to cruelty. In the palace, the sons of the emperor only, were
permitted to the “Dance of the Plumes.”
At the epoch, when these dances were at their zenith, the emperors had a
peculiar way of showing by them their approbation, or condemnation of
their viceroys. When the viceroy was presented at court, if his
administration seemed good to the emperor, he was welcomed by numerous
and lengthy dances; if, on the contrary his government seemed worthy of
censure, the dances were both short and few.
The following were the customs observed in presenting them:—Long before
the dance began, a drum was sounded “to dispel from the minds of the
spectators any thoughts unsuited to the occasion.” On the arrival of the
performers, they took three steps forward and put themselves in an
attitude, calculated to impress the beholders; a sort of _tableau
vivant_. The entrance was always accompanied with a slow movement of the
music, which gradually augmented both in speed and volume, until the
_finale_, when the climax having been reached, the music had attained a
presto movement, and the dancers retired with precipitation in order
that the interest might not have time to flag.
Sometimes the dancers carried a small shield with bell attached.
The Chinese sages deeply regret the loss of these ancient dances; (for
like all excellent customs the modern writers claim that they were at
their best in “the good old times,”) it seems that the ancient Chinese,
endeavored in the dance, to reproduce an easily-comprehended allegory of
the natural actions of men; the movements, gestures, attitudes, and
evolutions, all to be natural and easily understood by the spectators.
Since the days of Confucius, this simple style of dancing has fallen
greatly to decay.
In those days many of the emperors of China studied and understood the
art of dancing. History shows many such “Davids” (although not so well
known as Israel’s royal dancer) in the dynasties of the empire. Autumn
was the favorite season for the study of dancing, as the “feast of
ancestors” takes place in the Spring, and the pupils were ready to
exhibit their proficiency at that great event. The ancient practice of
imperial dancing, was continued even as recently as 1719, when one of
the sons of Kang-hi, of the age of twenty, performed before the emperor
and his court. There are also mandarins whose duty it is to dance before
the emperor; the pantomime of these is especially graceful and
dignified. They advance slowly two by two, their limbs and bodies moving
gently to the time of a tranquil music; they turn around without
quitting their relative positions, and after a series of gestures made
in perfect unison, and some symmetrical evolutions, they make the salute
of honor, and retire. This dance seems to be only a formal expression of
homage to the emperor. The dress of these officials is uniform, and
elegant, fine silk capes, caps, etc., the only difference of costume
being the buttons, with which the top of the caps are ornamented; the
different color of these being indicative of greater or lesser rank.
This _corps_ of dancers is recruited from the wealthiest and greatest
families of the empire.
In the dances, every detail is strictly systemized and observed; the
very positions are calculated according to the points of the compass;
thus one dancer is always placed at the north-west, another at the
north-east, the entrance is to be made from a fixed cardinal point, the
exit at another; all is rule and precision.
The number of dancers is not at present limited to that given above
(sixty-four for the emperor, thirty-six for viceroys, etc.) as the
ancient standard. At times of great festivity, the dancers of the
Imperial court are reckoned by hundreds. Such _grandes ballets_, are
almost always symmetrical and in concerted movements; but there are also
_solo_ dances; in these _pas seuls_ the dancer often accompanies himself
with both song and instrument. This proves how slow and majestic the
motions must be.
In dances, females very often appear, but in private only. Mandarins
frequently own female dancers and singers, whose performances are
reserved for their own families. It is but rarely, and as a mark of
especial honor, that they allow some intimate friend to view the dancing
of these slaves.
Spectacular pantomimes, such as delight the theatre-goers at Christmas
time in Europe and America, find also a congenial atmosphere in China; a
most beautiful one was performed in the presence of the emperor, and
Lord Macartney, in 1793. In this representation the object seemed to be,
to illustrate upon the stage, the wonders and fertility of the world, or
an allegory of the intermarriage of earth and ocean. The earth gave
forth in this pantomime, a large number of its animals, and products;
elephants, tigers, dragons, ostriches and eagles, as well as oaks,
pines, bamboos, and other specimens of vegetation appeared upon the
stage; while upon a lower stage, the ocean sent forth whales, dolphins,
porpoises, and also vessels, rocks, weeds, sponges, and coral. Each of
these creations was true to life, and in many of them were concealed
actors who represented the motions and habits of the animals in a manner
quite natural. After these products of earth and sea had performed
several evolutions separately, each division moving in a separate
circle, all united and came to the front of the stage, where a farther
series of movements was enacted; suddenly the entire mass of actors
divided, moving swiftly to the right and left in order to give place to
the whale, who seemed a sort of commander in chief. This immense fish
then advanced to the front of the stage, opposite the box in which the
emperor was seated; on arriving here, he lifted his head and spurted an
enormous mass of water, amounting to many barrels full, into the pit of
the theatre; where (holes having been bored to receive it) it swiftly
disappeared.[143]
This performance seemed to give the greatest delight to the Chinese part
of the audience. The music attached to this spectacle, was as usual of
the most deafening character.
Of the lower order of dances, such as tumbling, harlequinades, etc., the
Chinese have a vast variety; even puppet shows (_marionettes_) are
greatly used by them, and plays with simple plots, very skilfully given
by their means. This is the story represented at one of them;—An
unfortunate princess is kept prisoner in a castle surrounded by dragons:
to her comes a bold warrior, who after many combats with dragons, wild
beasts and other horrible creations, succeeds in killing, vanquishing
and dispersing them. He is recompensed by receiving the hand of the
grateful princess, and the whole concludes with processions, tournaments
and other festivities.[144]
As to the musical part of all these lesser performances, it is nearly
always present, and ever of the peculiar style which has filled every
traveller (so far as we know _without exception_), with utter distaste.
The juggling performances, of which there are many, both public and
private, are accompanied throughout with the above described orchestra.
Feats of skill, performed by troupes of children are especially admired
by the Chinese, and much sought for. The children begin their training
in these arts, very young.
Boat races have also their music, which is evidently intended to
inspirit the oarsmen. The following is a description of such an event,
(so far as it relates to music).
“On each side of the little mast that supports the national flag, are
two men, who leave off striking the tum-tum, and executing rolls upon
the drum, whilst the mariners leaning over their oars, row on
vigorously, and make the dragon junk, skim rapidly over the water.
Whilst these elegant boats are contending with each other, the people
throng the quays, the shore and the roofs.... They animate the rowers
with their cries and plaudits; they let off fireworks; they perform at
various points, deafening music, in which the sonorous noise of the
tum-tum, and the sharp sound of a sort of a clarinet, giving perpetually
the same note, predominate over all the rest. The Chinese relish this
infernal harmony.”[145]
We have dwelt with some detail upon the music of the Chinese, for we
consider these people, musically as well as ethnologically and
philologically a series of contradictions, and especially differing from
all our conceived notions of right and propriety: a nation where music
is heartily loved, and taught to youth,[146] and yet where musical
progress is almost unknown; where goodness and love are taught in the
most beautiful writings, and where greater cruelties are practised than
anywhere else on earth. They differ from us on almost every point. We
mourn in black, they in white; we respect crowns as badges of honor,
they the boots; we build solid walls, they make them hollow; we pull a
boat, they push it; we place the orchestra in front of the stage; they
behind it; with us children fly kites, with them, men; we scratch the
head when puzzled, they, the antipodes of it, etc, etc.[147]
A nation so strange cannot be judged flippantly or speedily; only a
short time since we held the Japanese in the rank of the semi-civilized;
now they are making giant strides on the highway of progress. Who dare
say that the Chinese may not yet experience a similar awakening? At
present their heaviest drawbacks, in music, as well as in all
civilization, seem to be, a senseless clinging to ancient usages; an
education of the head, and not of the heart; an etiquette which becomes
both ludicrous and burdensome in its requirements;[148] a totally false
position of woman; and a theoretically competitive, but practically
corrupt public service. There have recently been unmistakeable signs of
progress, and, once begun, it is more than probable that the reform will
be thorough and swift as it has thus far been with their neighbors. In
such case, China will be of far higher interest to the world than she
has been to us in our describing her as—a curiosity shop.