The sound of metal is embodied in the various kinds of bells, which are arranged in many different series, sometimes after the patterns of the king, while sometimes they are played separately.

The sound of clay, or baked earth, is given by a kind of round egg made of porcelain—­for that is what it amounts to—­pierced with five holes and a mouthpiece, upon blowing through which the sound is produced—­an instrument somewhat suggestive of our ocarina.

The sound of silk is given by two instruments:  one a kind of flat harp with seven strings, called che, the other with twenty-five strings, called kin, in size from seven to nine feet long.  The ancient form of this instrument is said to have had fifty strings.

The sound of wood is a strange element in a Chinese orchestra, for it is produced in three different ways:  first, by an instrument in the form of a square wooden box with a hole in one of its sides through which the hand, holding a small mallet, is inserted, the sound of wood being produced by hammering with the mallet on the inside walls of the box, just as the clapper strikes a bell.  This box is placed at the northeast corner of the orchestra, and begins every piece.  Second, by a set of strips of wood strung on a strap or cord, the sound of which is obtained by beating the palm of the hand with them.  The third is the strangest of all, for the instrument consists of a life-size wooden tiger.  It has a number of teeth or pegs along the ridge of its back, and it is “played” by stroking these pegs rapidly with a wooden staff, and then striking the tiger on the head.  This is the prescribed end of every Chinese orchestral composition, and is supposed to be a symbol of man’s supremacy over brute creation.  The tiger has its place in the northwest corner of the orchestra.

The sound of bamboo is represented in the familiar form of Pan’s pipes, and various forms of flutes which hardly need further description.

And finally the sound of the gourd.  The gourd is a kind of squash, hollowed out, in which from thirteen to twenty-four pipes of bamboo or metal are inserted; each one of these pipes contains a metal reed, the vibration of which causes the sound.  Below the reed are cut small holes in the pipes, and there is a pipe with a mouthpiece to keep the gourd, which is practically an air reservoir, full of air.  The air rushing out through the bamboo pipes will naturally escape through the holes cut below the reeds, making no sound, but if the finger stops one or more of these holes, the air is forced up through the reeds, thus giving a musical sound, the pitch of which will be dependent on the length of the pipes and the force with which the air passes through the reed.

Other instruments of the Chinese are gongs of all sizes, trumpets, and several stringed instruments somewhat akin to our guitars and mandolins.  Neither the Chinese nor the Japanese have ever seemed to consider the voice as partaking of the nature of music.  This is strange, for the language of the Chinese depends on flexibility of the voice to make it even intelligible.  As a matter of fact, singing, in our sense of the word, is unknown to them.