of music no doubt I would have
comprehended her singing better, and, however uncomfortable, I should
no doubt have remained to the end of the entertainment.

While writing this chapter it happened that the following news from New
York was published in the local papers in Shanghai. It should be
interesting to my readers, especially to those who are lovers of music.

"'Yellow music' will be the next novelty to startle and lure this blase
town; amusement forecasters already see in the offing a Fall invasion
of the mysterious Chinese airs which are now having such a vogue in
London under the general term of 'yellow music'.

"The time was when Americans and occidentals in general laughed at
Chinese music, but this was due to their own ignorance of its full
import and to the fact that they heard only the dirges of a Chinese
funeral procession or the brassy noises that feature a celestial
festival. They did not have opportunity to be enthralled by the
throaty, vibrant melodies--at once so lovingly seductive and harshly
compelling--by which Chinese poets and lovers have revealed their
thoughts and won their quest for centuries. The stirring tom-tom, if
not the ragtime which sets the occidental capering to-day, was common
to the Chinese three or four hundred years ago. They heard it from the
wild Tartars and Mongols--heard it and rejected it, because it was
primitive, untamed, and not to be compared with their own carefully
controlled melodies. Mr. Emerson Whithorne, the famous British
composer, who is an authority on oriental music, made this statement to
the London music lovers last week:

"'The popularity of Chinese music is still in its childhood. From now
on it will grow rapidly. Chinese music has no literature, as we
understand that term, but none can say that it has not most captivating
melodies. To the artistic temperament, in particular, it appeals
enormously, and well-known artists--musicians, painters, and so on--say
that it affects them in quite an extraordinary way.'"

Chinese music from an occidental standpoint has been unjustly described
as "clashing cymbals, twanging guitars, harsh flageolets, and shrill
flutes, ear-splitting and headache-producing to the foreigner." Such
general condemnation shows deplorable ignorance.[2] The writer had
apparently never attended an official service in honor of Confucius,
held biennially during the whole of the Ching dynasty at 3 A.M. The
"stone chimes", consisting