I do not wonder that this was the favourite companion of Confucius, especially when I reflect that with this reverend teacher, as with Buddha, the mood of meditation was invited and sought for, as the highest exaltation of human being. When I have chanced to while away an hour questioning this instrument, I must confess to the fascination that it has, how it grows upon one in an atmosphere of silence,—
It is so quiet there; a world apart
Where none intrudes. Serenely we enclose
A sanctuary, where in silence and repose
The gentle flow of sound soothes the tired heart.
There is a certain weirdness in the low tones that seems to tell of depths beyond possibility of present experience; exciting a quiet longing, heard with a listening ear for something beyond, which has been left incomplete; full of mysterious breathing like the soft “susurrus” of the wind dreamily stirring the leaves of the forest. If I say it seems to suggest to me that I should like to hear a movement from one of Beethoven’s symphonies or a Schubert’s played upon a “consort” of these simple instruments, do not laugh—I really mean it; for the sounds, faint as they are, gather about them an infinite suggestiveness of the unattainable, which is the behest of the highest music to evoke in our nature. We talk of “unheard music,” and the cynic smiles; but we well know what we mean, and I say that this music of the sacred Ch’in is the nearest approach to,—indeed, takes us to the very borderland of—the unheard.
The Sê is a larger instrument, is in fact the largest stringed instrument in use among the Chinese, and had originally fifty strings. Tradition goes that a certain professional young lady was one day performing, and attracted the attention of the Emperor Huang Ti. The music impressed him so sorrowfully that he forthwith ordered the number to be reduced one half. A sensible ruler was Huang Ti. If we could reduce our sorrows and vexations by one half on the same principle, what a wonderful relief it would be; probably to the extent of halving the insanity of the country. So the Sê now in use has twenty-five strings, and these are divided amongst five colours; but instead of colouring the strings, they colour the bridges,—five blue, five red, five yellow, five white and five black. For although the Sê, like the Ch’in, is an instrument to be plucked, the strings are not subjected to pressure to bring them to playing pitch; but are lifted on to bridges, one for each string, which bridges the player places according to judgment, to determine the various vibrating lengths under demand. The bridges are placed in a general order, but have not a fixed position like frets, since the tension of the string at the times of playing can be, and is made variable; so each bridge is moved to the point that satisfies the ear as to the particular pitch required for each string. On removal of the bridges the strings are comparatively slack, at all events are safely lowered in tension.
Four kinds of Sê are in use, they differ only in size, and in number of strings, the principle being the same; and it is customary that they should give the sound of two notes at the same time, generally octaves, so that on state occasions no doubt the effect is imposing, as the instruments possess considerable resonance. That which seems to be the most permanent variety has thirteen or fourteen strings only, quite sufficient for the modern skill and modern musical requirements. In this form it is preserved by the Japanese, with whom it is named the Taki-Koto. The example in my possession I have more than once made mention of, and recounted some of its beauties. Its breadth is 10in., its length 6ft. 4in., depth 1-3/4 in. The wood is nearly half an inch thick, both the upper and the lower planks; there is no thinning of the wood, but the upper one is made to arch over in its breadth by having the under side of it fluted. This fluting process is marvelously well adapted for the end in view; the thickness of the sound-board, as we immediately recognize it, is the opposite of that which we pursue in stringed instruments. The wood is of a beautiful mellow brown, and is a riven plank. No plane has touched it; it remains as it was riven from the tree, showing as it were an embossed fibre,—so clear it is, and so purely natural. It has splendid resonance, remarked by every hearer for lovely quality of tone. A thick silk cord is laid upon the end-bearing bridge, and the strings set on this cord, so that the vibration is communicated only through the moveable bridges belonging to each string. At the ends of the cord are silk tassels of a quiet green colour, with some strands of pale buff intermixed: all in perfect harmony with the inlaid woods and ivories. The strings are plucked by the aid of two little ivory plectra, shaped like a half filbert or almond, stayed upon the fingers by a narrow band of leather: thus the silk strings escape being affected by moisture.
The choice of thick wood intuitively by the Chinese is a lesson in acoustics for moderns. If we try woods of thickness with a tuning fork, the resonance obtained is often finer than any derived from thin cut pieces of the same.
The sonorousness of these large instruments marks by contrast the evident purpose of the designer of the Ch’in and concerning the latter there are yet some interesting particulars to mention to bring its nature clearly before those who have not had an example under hand.