thereupon dismissed, each man returning to the bosom of his own family.
The Power of Music.
When Kua Pa only thrummed his lute, the birds danced and the fishes capered around. Wen, the Director of Music in Chêng, having heard of this, left his family and attached himself to Shih Hsiang—another famous lutanist—following him whithersoever he went. For three years he was never without his lute in his hand, and yet at the end of that time he was unable to play a single air. Shih Hsiang thereupon said to him, "I think you had better go home again." The Director flung aside his instrument with a deep sigh. "It is not that I cannot thrum the strings," he exclaimed; "it is not that I cannot learn a tune. What I pay attention to has nothing to do with the strings; what I aim at is not mere sound. If a man's heart is not in it, he will never be able to interpret his feelings on any instrument. Therefore it is that I do not venture to put forth my hand and strike the strings. Let me take only a short leave; we will see how I get on when I come back."
In a few days he returned, and went to see his teacher, who said, "Well, and how are you progressing with the lute?"
"I have succeeded," replied the Director of Music.
"Well, let's hear what you can do," rejoined his teacher. Now, it was the time of spring. The lute-player struck a chord, sounding the second note in the scale, harmonising with the lower fifth, when suddenly the wind blew chill and the plants and trees bore fruit. It was autumn! Then he struck the third note, setting in motion the second lower accord; and gradually a warm wind fanned their faces, and trees and shrubs burst into exuberant foliage. It was summer! Again, he struck the fifth note of the scale, harmonising with it the first upper accord; whereupon hoar-frost appeared and snow began to fall, and the streams and pools froze hard. It was winter! Once more, he struck the fourth note of the scale, setting in motion the fourth upper accord; whereupon the sun