In view of its design, it certainly, simple as it is, is a most perfect instrument, and its simplicity is its beauty. The upper surface, from end to end, is not round, but presents a hollow curve, being rounded only across. But as no bridges are employed in playing the instrument, this curve is finely laid, so that wherever the strings are pressed, they nowhere else touch, and are free to vibrate to the pluck of the finger. At the wide end, at the extreme length of the strings, there is a fixed bridge, generally for all the strings, which is of solid form, arched; behind it the strings pass through to the back, where they are attached to the drilled wood stems, from which long scarlet silk tassels depend. The strings do not conform to their primary limit; some wise philosopher increased their number to seven. The instrument which I possess has seven strings, and I have had it many years, as also had its former possessor; and the nacre studs are arranged, not in the formal relation here depicted, but at distances corresponding to the half of the string, to two thirds, to three fourths, to four fifths, and so on. Any division of the string can, however, be made at the pleasure of the performer, these studs serving only as guides; for the strings are tuned at will, and kept taut only by tying on two large pegs fixed in the back. The back, half an inch in thickness, seems to be of camphor wood, and it still sends forth its fragrance inherited from generations long ago. [Illustration: _The Ch’in or Kin_ _Fig. 41._] Now comes a curious detail in the fitness of the instrument to its design, which I have not seen noted at all. The upper surface consists of thin wood, black japanned, and under this a layer of cork. It was a scholar’s lute, for meditative hours, for no other hearers,—the playing upon it being almost in the nature of religious exercise—secluded from the world, alone. This was Confucius’s idea of its purpose, and it is the recorded tradition that he was so enraptured with its tones that he could neither eat nor drink; lovesick with melody, he lived for weeks shut up in his room listening to the music that had a voice for him alone, and spoke only under his own fingers. 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.