My long tarrying with the musical instruments of Celestials has tended to bring very forcibly before me the great resemblance between the Chinese and the Greek systems of music. Wide asunder as these people are racially, yet in their development of the musical art they seem to have some close kinship, some common source of idea; and little traits of primitive lore constantly give suggestions of some early centre whence the two have diverged, or of some point where in the crossing of the pathways they have supplied themselves from the same fountain, although each traversed in a different direction its appointed course.
The possibilities, however, that I have in mind are of some far earlier impressions from intercourse, how and when constituting the problem; for the Greeks in their prime were but the infants of a day in comparison with the peoples under the great monarchies of Chaldæa, Assyria, Egypt, and China, whose rulers could be traced back two, three, four—aye five—thousand years before the first block was hewn for the foundation of the Parthenon, or ever a Venus stept in marble.
Van Aalst states that “the first invaders of China were a band of immigrants fighting their way among the aborigines, and supposed to have come from the south of the Caspian Sea” and the question remains, where was the earlier track of their wanderings? Is it not also curious that one of the early mythical Kings of ancient Persia had the name Houscheng? It was in his reign that the Persians became Fire Worshippers, adoring flame as the symbol of God.
Yet it is by way of Chaldæa and Egypt that our chief interests will be found, where relics of the musical arts had permanence not granted to them elsewhere. Persia and India yield us less as matter for enquiry, since it is the class of stringed instruments of light kind that their peoples have mostly favoured. Some problems are still left in India which we should like to have solved. The transverse flute is constantly found in ancient carvings in the hands of Krishna, who is popularly believed to have been its inventor; but how it came about that the double flutes should be found on the carvings both of wood and stone awakens curiosity. What historical significance had they? Not a survival of any kind is there in the usage of the present time. Only as it were yesterday, at the British Museum, I was looking over the series of very old carvings in wood,—friezes which have formed the risers of the steps to the Tope at Jumal-Garlic in Afghanistan, crowded with figures of men and women and animals in the uncouth style so characteristic of the land that was the home of Buddha. In these scenes, depicting the history of the great Renunciator, I found amongst the groups of players on instruments several instances of players upon these double pipes, the counterpart of those graven in the historical records of Babylon and Nineveh, and painted on vases by Etruscans, and carved in marble by the Greeks. What does it all mean? How have the races of mankind been affiliated? We find the double flutes in India; we do not find them in China. In that intermediate land of Thibet, has the Grand Lama any evidence or record of them? It is curious that the Chinese, although they have the earlier Pan’s pipes, have neither the double pipes nor the lyre—instruments of Greece—yet they have a system of music essentially the same as the Greeks, and (as will be shown you in the Sheng) a scale consisting of the two conjunct tetrachords, forming with an added tetrachord an octave and a fourth; the key-note being the fourth of the scale, equal to the Mese of the Greeks. The Chinese style of music though lacking the refined ideal of art is on precisely the same lines, vocal with recitative and instrumental interposed phrases; and if the hymns of the old Confucian temple be transcribed side by side with the fragments we have of the worship of Apollo only exacting criticism could determine the different origin. They are equally capable of being harmonized with effective dignity. Further, I would remark also that the Chinese notation, like the Greek, consists solely of added signs written beside the words of the hymn. All the details seem to point to a time in a far distant past when both races were in contact with one source; then came a day of sudden disruption—one race eastward, one race westward: each pursuing its own way. So the years rolled on, bearing their records on two distinct rolls of separate destiny.
The twofold destruction of the vast library of Alexandria by fire, the first time by accident the second time by fanaticism, has been an irreparable loss to music, for there, if anywhere, would have been treasured those records of the learned men of old, which would have told us so much that we want to know.
Now, beyond the paintings and the sculptures, all the knowledge that remains comes to us through the literature of the Greeks, the sole inheritors.
The descent of Music is in direct line from Egypt; and Egypt would in like manner have derived from some earlier civilisation the first elements of her own. There are words in an inscription in the Temple of Dayr-el-Bahari which I think may be taken as shewing Queen Hatasu’s traditional associations of thought in reference to the origin of her race. This famous Queen built that magnificent Temple, and dedicated it in part to Amen the God of Thebes, and in part to Hathor the Beautiful, the Lady of the Western Mountain, the Goddess-Regent of the Land of Punt. Hatasu is represented as suckled by the goddess, who is also the nurse of Horus. In this temple there is a wonderful series of bas-reliefs sculptured and painted on the walls, a panorama in stone of
“The five large ships she built in obedience to the will of Amen, King of the Gods, that they should traverse the Great Sea on the Good Way to the Land of the Gods.”
The stone pictures shew these vessels at their departure and return, with variety of details of loading and cargo, etc. On the mast of one of the ships a three string lyre or bow-harp is slung. In the description of one of these vivid pictures, are these words, written as the Queen Hatasu ordered, and probably taken from her own lips as what she wished to be set forth
“We sailed on the Sea, and began a fair voyage towards the Divine Land, that is to the coast of Arabia, and the journey to the Land of Punt was happily resumed.”