Now, the translation states that this baby or supreme lord "of whom no further description is given, =left there his lute= and lyre. It says that =his lute= and lyre are in this canyon." MUSIC IN THE GRAND CANYON? It is absurd to imagine for a moment that a =sucking= infant could own, or could be really supposed to own, a =lute=. The Chinese text does not say that the musical instrument is "his." And yet, curiously enough, it does declare that the baby-prince left or abandoned (=k'i=) a Lute or Lyre in the Canyon. Why should such a matter be mentioned? Supposing that a fiddle was left behind, or a drum, or a rattle, why should the trivial fact be gravely recorded? If a Lute was left in the mighty chasm, its remains might be there still. But how could an infant be said to leave or abandon a Lute? Would he not try, so well as our memory serves, to first get it into his mouth? Would not his chubby hands, quite stout enough for destructive arts, tear the strings apart and feed the music to the nearest cat? Would it be a lute at all when ultimately relinquished? And if the babe derived pleasure from ill-treated and squalling strings, why should he leave the lute behind? As well say that the suckling abandoned there a fishing-rod! Would not a milk-bottle be a much readier fount of ecstacy than either a lute or a flute? Why, neither one nor the other =could be heard= within the Canyon. A Chinese commentator, however, relieves us from the necessity of seeking for a literal lute between the resounding jaws of the mighty chasm (note 23.) He says it is erroneous (=ngo=) to suppose that the baby emperor (=ju ti=) grasped (=ping=,) or left behind (=chi=) or abandoned in the place of midnight darkness (=huen=) any lutes or lyres (=kin seh=.) In hyperbolical language (=wu wu=)--which is never true when taken literally--a clear limpid river (=shuh=) would be the lute (=kin=.) But how could a clear stream serve as a lute? The running water might produce limpid notes. Thus Moore, in his ode on "Harmony," uses the following words: "Listen!--when the night-wind dies Down the still current, =like a harp= it sighs! A liquid =chord= in every wave that flows." Here is a current of water likened to the string of a harp, and the playing of winds compared to music. Mrs. Sigourney calls Niagara a "Trump," and we accept the assertion (although literally it is quite untrue.) But if the Chinese account placed a Trump in the Ontario chasm there would be considerable difficulty in finding it. Fortunately, in the case immediately before us, it is a Chinese author who tells us that we are to seek for limpid streams rather than for literal lutes or lyres. The mention of the latter would probably imply that the sounds of some stream or streams in the Great Canyon are of a remarkably soft and musical character.