The Imagery of Sound and Music: An Interpretation and Inquiry into the Discussion of Musical Imagery in Xunzi: On Music

By: Xuanji Editorial Department

Original Text:

The imagery of sound and music: The drum is grandly beautiful ($\text{dà lì}$), the bell is comprehensively substantial ($\text{tǒng shí}$), the chime stone is pure and regulated ($\text{lián zhì}$), the yú and shēng and xiāo are harmonious ($\text{hé}$), the guǎn and yuè emit fierceness ($\text{fā měng}$), the xūn and chí are expansive and ample ($\text{wēng bó}$), the sè is easily good ($\text{yì liáng}$), the qín is pleasingly feminine ($\text{fù hǎo}$), song is purely exhaustive ($\text{qīng jìn}$), and dance combines the intent of the Dao of Heaven ($\text{yì tiān dào jiān}$).

Is not the drum the sovereign of music$1 Therefore, the drum resembles Heaven, the bell resembles Earth, the chime stone resembles Water. The yú, shēng, xiāo, guǎn, and yuè resemble the stars, the sun, and the moon. The rattle drum (táo), the striking block (zhù), the beaters (fǔ), the drumstick (gé), the wooden clapper (qiāng), and the notched stick (jié) resemble the myriad things.

How is the intent of dance known$2 It is said: The eyes do not see themselves, the ears do not hear themselves. Yet, they regulate bending and stretching, rising and falling, advancing and retreating, slowing and hastening. None is without clear regulation ($\text{lián zhì}$), exhausting the strength of sinew and bone, in order to meet the measures of the bell and drum’s convergence ($\text{fǔ huì zhī jié}$), and there is no contrariety. The multitude accumulates intent, profoundly harmonious ($\text{zhōng zhōng hū}$)!

— Xunzi, "On Music" (Yue Lun)

Chapter One: Introduction: The Imagery of Music—How Sound and Music Possess "Imagery"

Section 1: The Denotation of "Xiàng" (象): The Original Context of the "Xiàng" Concept in the Pre-Qin Period

Anyone studying the pre-Qin classics, encountering a character that demands prior semantic clarification, must place the character xiàng ($\text{象}$) at the forefront. Modern usage of xiàng often defaults to "image," "symbol," or "trope," yet these meanings are all products of later semantic differentiation and do not represent the original denotation of xiàng in the pre-Qin era. To understand the four characters "The Imagery of Sound and Music" ($\text{shēng yuè zhī xiàng}$), we must first trace the initial meaning of xiàng to avoid imposing later interpretations onto the ancient text.

The most ancient meaning of xiàng is found in the Oracle Bone script. In the Oracle Bone script, the character xiàng is the depiction of the actual elephant—long trunk, large ears, four legs—a pictogram derived from a concrete object. Although the Shuowen Jiezi ($\text{Shuōwén Jiězì}$) is a Han dynasty work, its character explanations often retain vestiges of ancient usage. Xu Shen states in his definition of xiàng: "Long trunk and tusks, the great beast of Southern Yue." This is the primary meaning of xiàng: the concrete elephant. But how did xiàng, the name of a specific animal, evolve into such a crucial category in pre-Qin philosophy$3

The key to this evolution lies in the meaning of "taking as a model" ($\text{qǔ fǎ}$) inherent in xiàng. Due to its immense size and distinctive form, the elephant left a profound impression on the ancients, leading to the extension of xiàng to mean "form" or "appearance." The Book of Documents ($\text{Shàng Shū}$), in the chapter "Command to Yue" ($\text{Shuō Mìng}$), records: "Studying the ancient teachings one gains attainment; affairs not modeled on antiquity cannot last for eternity; it is not merely what is heard in discourse." Furthermore, there is the phrase, "Heaven hangs forth its xiàng ($\text{xiàng}$), revealing misfortune and fortune." Here, xiàng is no longer the concrete elephant but rather astronomical phenomena—the visible forms and omens presented by Heaven.

In the Changes of the Elder/Yijing ($\text{Zhōu Yì}$), the Great Treatise ($\text{Xì Cí}$) states:

"The Sage perceives the intricacies of the world, models them according to their likenesses ($\text{xíngróng}$), and indicates their appropriate suitability ($\text{wù yí}$), which is why it is called xiàng."

It also states:

"Thus, there is no imagery ($\text{fǎ xiàng}$) greater than Heaven and Earth, no transformation more extensive than the four seasons, and no clarity hung forth ($\text{xiàn xiàng}$) more illuminating than the sun and moon."

"When established in Heaven, they become xiàng ($\text{chéng xiàng}$); when formed on Earth, they become xíng ($\text{chéng xíng}$); the transformations are thereby revealed."

These passages capture the essence of pre-Qin discussions on xiàng. Xiàng is not merely external appearance, nor is it purely subjective conception; it is the collective term for the naturally presented forms, laws, and omens of Heaven and Earth and the myriad things. When the Sage "observes the xiàng" ($\text{guān xiàng}$), he perceives the inner principle through the visible forms of all things. Xiàng serves as the bridge connecting the inner and outer, form and spirit, phenomenon and essence.

The trigrams ($\text{guà xiàng}$) and the lines ($\text{yáo xiàng}$) of the Yijing use limited symbols (Yin and Yang lines) to simulate the infinite transformations of the myriad things. The establishment of the eight trigrams—Qian for Heaven, Kun for Earth, Zhen for Thunder, Xun for Wind, Kan for Water, Li for Fire, Gen for Mountain, Dui for Lake—are all xiàng. This xiàng is neither an abstract concept nor a concrete object; it is an "analogous imagery" ($\text{lèi xiàng}$) situated between the two, using the characteristic of one thing to represent the common nature of a class of things.

So, when Master Xunzi speaks of "The Imagery of Sound and Music" ($\text{shēng yuè zhī xiàng}$), how should this xiàng be understood$4

The xiàng in "The Imagery of Sound and Music" continues the tradition of "taking imagery" ($\text{qǔ xiàng}$) established since the Yijing. Master Xunzi is not referring to the "shape" of sound and music—sound is formless and invisible—nor is he referring to "symbolism"—that is a later extension. The xiàng Master Xunzi speaks of refers to the qualities, the dispositions, and the effects presented by sound and music; that is, the intrinsic characteristics conveyed through acoustic sound that can be perceived, understood, and internalized. Here, xiàng is the "virtue" ($\text{dé}$), the "nature" ($\text{xìng}$), or the "character" ($\text{gé}$) of sound and music, expressed in the most concise language to delineate the character presented by various instruments and musical performances.

Why use the term xiàng instead of directly saying "The Nature of Sound and Music" or "The Virtue of Sound and Music"$5 This question is highly significant. "Nature" ($\text{xìng}$) and "Virtue" ($\text{dé}$) emphasize the intrinsic essence of things, whereas xiàng encompasses both the inner and the outer—it is the external manifestation of an inner quality, and simultaneously, the inner quality hinted at by the external form. The wonder of sound and music lies precisely in its presentation of intrinsic character through external acoustics, conveying inaudible meaning through audible sound. The use of xiàng precisely captures the unique nature of sound and music as "conveying meaning through sound" and "indicating virtue through resonance."

Furthermore, the use of xiàng implies a cosmological dimension. The text immediately follows by stating, "the drum resembles Heaven, the bell resembles Earth, the chime stone resembles Water," establishing a grand system where the lineage of musical instruments corresponds to the cosmological diagram of Heaven and Earth. This is no accident. In pre-Qin thought, xiàng was the intermediary connecting human affairs with the Dao of Heaven. The Great Treatise ($\text{Xì Cí}$), Second Part, states:

"In antiquity, when the Lord of the Five Classics ($\text{Bāo Xī}$ Fuxi) reigned over the world, he looked upward to observe the xiàng in Heaven, and looked downward to observe the models ($\text{fǎ}$) on Earth. He observed the patterns of birds and beasts and the suitability of the Earth. He took lessons from his own person and drew far from external things. Thus he first established the Eight Trigrams, to communicate the virtue of the spiritual light ($\text{shén míng zhī dé}$) and to correspond to the feelings ($\text{qíng}$) of the myriad things."

The observation of xiàng by Fuxi served as a medium to communicate the "virtue of the spiritual light" and the "feelings of the myriad things." Master Xunzi’s title, "The Imagery of Sound and Music," similarly uses the xiàng of sound and music as a medium to bridge the acoustics of instruments with the Great Dao of Heaven and Earth. This line of reasoning permeates the entire passage.

Section 2: Why "Sound and Music" ($\text{Shēng Yuè}$) is Distinguished from "Sound" ($\text{Shēng}$) and "Music" ($\text{Yuè}$) Alone

In pre-Qin texts discussing music, the characters shēng ($\text{shēng}$, sound), yīn ($\text{yīn}$, tone/pitch), and yuè ($\text{yuè}$, music/harmony) are frequently used. Here, Master Xunzi links shēng and yuè together as "Sound and Music" ($\text{shēng yuè}$), rather than using the common compound yīnyuè ($\text{yīnyuè}$, music) or speaking of yuè alone. Is there a distinction here$6

The Book of Rites ($\text{Lǐ Jì}$), in the chapter "Record of Music" ($\text{Yuè Jì}$), offers a crucial distinction:

"The origin of all sound ($\text{shēng}$) comes from the human heart. The stirring of the human heart is caused by external things. Moved by external things, it manifests in sound ($\text{shēng}$). Sounds correspond, thus producing changes ($\text{biàn}$). When changes form a pattern ($\text{fāng}$), it is called tone ($\text{yīn}$). When tones are arranged together and enjoyed ($\text{lè}$), along with shields, feathers, and plumes, it is called music ($\text{yuè}$)."

This passage establishes a strict hierarchical distinction among shēng, yīn, and yuè:

• Sound ($\text{Shēng}$): The primal acoustic emission resulting from the heart being moved by external things. Unorganized, unsystematized. Any natural noise or human cry can be called shēng.
• Tone ($\text{Yīn}$): Sound that has undergone transformation and organization into a systematic structure; it "forms a pattern" ($\text{biàn chéng fāng}$) by adopting a certain format or mode. The system of the five notes (palace, horn, angle, beam, wing) and the twelve pitches falls into the category of yīn.
• Music ($\text{Yuè}$): Tones organized into a complete artistic presentation, accompanied by ritual instruments and dance (the gān qī yǔ máo), forming an integrated performance.

If this is the case, why does Master Xunzi connect shēng and yuè into "Sound and Music" ($\text{shēng yuè}$)$7

A careful examination of the original text shows that "The Imagery of Sound and Music" covers: drum, bell, chime stone, yú, shēng, xiāo, guǎn, yuè, xūn, chí, sè, qín—these are all instruments, belonging to the category of yīn or yuè. It also includes song ($\text{gē}$), which is human vocal music, situated between shēng and yīn; and dance ($\text{wǔ}$), which is the highest form of yuè, involving bodily action. By using the combined term "Sound and Music" ($\text{shēng yuè}$), Xunzi encompasses all content discussed: shēng emphasizes the acoustic aspect (including instrumental sound and song), while yuè emphasizes the comprehensive artistic form (including dance).

This is not an arbitrary collocation but a precise generalization. Xunzi’s discussion touches upon the qualitative characteristics of various instrumental sounds (the level of shēng), as well as the overall significance of musical performance and dance (the level of yuè); thus, the combined term $\text{shēng yuè}$ is the most suitable.

Why not use the character yīn ($\text{yīn}$)$8 In the pre-Qin context, yīn tended to focus on already organized, systematic acoustic structures—such as the five notes and twelve pitches—a relatively technical concept. Xunzi’s discussion here is not about the technicalities of pitch systems, but about the disposition and aura ($\text{qì xiàng}$) of sound and music. Therefore, using shēng instead of yīn aligns better with the meaning of xiàng.

Moreover, the entire purpose of Xunzi: On Music is to argue for the social function and educational value of music, not to discuss musical technology. Master Xunzi is not concerned with how the five notes interact or how the twelve pitches cycle through keys; he is concerned with how the overall character presented by sound and music corresponds to the Dao of Heaven and Earth and relates to human affairs. Titling the section "The Imagery of Sound and Music" perfectly serves this purpose.

Section 3: The Position of On Music within Master Xunzi's Philosophical System

Master Xunzi's philosophy is centered on "Ritual" ($\text{Lǐ}$), based on "Group" ($\text{Qún}$), and utilizes "Transforming Nature and Cultivating Artifice" ($\text{huà xìng qǐ wěi}$) as its method. To grasp the deeper meaning of the "Imagery of Sound and Music" passage, one must first clarify the position of On Music within Xunzi’s overall thought.

Master Xunzi argues for the theory that "Human Nature is Evil" ($\text{xìng è}$). The chapter On Human Nature states:

"The nature of man is evil; his goodness is the result of artificial effort ($\text{wěi}$). Of man’s nature, that which is good is acquired effort. Now, man’s nature being what it is, if he follows his nature and indulges his disposition, contention and strife will arise, and faithfulness and sincerity will disappear. If he follows his nature and indulges his disposition, they will arise, and propriety and righteousness ($\text{lǐ yì}$) will vanish. If he follows his nature and indulges his disposition, they will arise, and licentious disorder ($\text{yín luàn}$) will emerge, and the patterned distinctions of propriety and righteousness will be lost." (Xunzi, Xing E)

Among human natures, there is "a fondness for fine sound and color" ($\text{hǎo shēng sè}$). If one follows this desire unchecked, "licentious disorder will emerge, and the patterned distinctions of propriety and righteousness will vanish." Does this mean that sound and music—activities that directly satisfy the desires of the ears and eyes—should be rejected in Xunzi’s thought$9

The answer is no. Master Xunzi does not negate sound and music; rather, he insists that they must be guided and restrained by $\text{Lǐ yì}$ ($\text{propriety and righteousness}$), transforming them from means of indulgence into tools for moral cultivation. Xunzi: On Music begins by stating:

"Now, music ($\text{yuè}$) is enjoyment ($\text{lè}$), an essential aspect of human feeling that cannot be avoided. Therefore, man cannot be without enjoyment. If one enjoys, it must manifest in sound and movement, taking form in action and stillness. In man’s way, sound, movement, action, and stillness encompass all transformation of nature and method. Therefore, man cannot be without enjoyment; if one enjoys, it cannot be without form. If form is not guided by the Dao, disorder will surely ensue. The former kings hated disorder, and thus they established the sounds of the Ya and Song ($\text{yǎ sòng}$), employing them to guide the Dao." (Xunzi, Yue Lun)

This passage has several important implications:

First, "Music is enjoyment" ($\text{yuè zhě, lè yě}$)—Music is pleasure, an inevitability of human nature, and cannot be eliminated. This stands in direct opposition to Mozi’s doctrine of "Against Music" ($\text{fēi yuè}$).

Second, "Therefore, man cannot be without enjoyment" ($\text{gù rén bù néng wú yuè}$)—Man must have pleasure, and pleasure must be manifested. This acknowledges the natural demands of human nature.

Third, "If form is not guided by the Dao, disorder will surely ensue" ($\text{xíng ér bù wéi dào, zé bù néng wú luàn}$)—If the manifestation of enjoyment is not guided by the Dao, chaos will inevitably follow. This critiques pure indulgence.

Fourth, "The former kings hated disorder, and thus they established the sounds of the Ya and Song, employing them to guide the Dao" ($\text{xiān wáng èr qí luàn yě, gù zhì yǎ sòng zhī shēng yǐ dào zhī}$)—The former kings created the music of Ya and Song to guide human enjoyment and bring it into accordance with the Dao. This is the civilizing function of sound and music.

Therefore, in Master Xunzi’s thought, sound and music have a dual nature: they are both the satisfaction of natural human desire and a tool for cultivating the human heart. The key lies in using $\text{Lǐ}$ ($\text{Ritual}$) to restrain and guide them. The chapters On Music and On Rites are corresponding sister chapters in Xunzi’s work, together forming his complete theory of "transforming nature by means of rites and music ($\text{yǐ lǐ yuè huà xìng qǐ wěi}$)."

Xunzi: On Music further states:

"Music is that which the Sages delight in, and it can improve the hearts of the people. Its influence on men is deep; it can transform customs and change behavior. Therefore, the former kings guided men with rites and music, and the people achieved harmony and concord." (Xunzi, Yue Lun)

"Its influence on men is deep," and "it can transform customs and change behavior"—the power of sound and music lies in its direct impact on human emotion, subtly transforming human disposition. This is far more profound than mere legal prohibition. Rites regulate human behavior externally; music influences the human heart internally. The two complement each other.

What is the position of the "Imagery of Sound and Music" passage within the entire On Music chapter$10 This passage appears in the latter half of the chapter, coming after Xunzi has discussed the social functions of music and refuted Mozi’s "Against Music" doctrine. He then turns to describing the qualities and cosmological interpretation of the specific content of sound and music—various instruments, song, and dance. This is the crucial juncture where the discussion shifts from the "Use of Music" ($\text{yuè zhī yòng}$) to the "Substance of Music" ($\text{yuè zhī tǐ}$), and it is the most poetic and philosophically profound section of the entire chapter.

Section 4: Research Perspectives and Methodology

This essay will proceed from the following three perspectives:

First, Textual Exegesis. A word-by-word analysis of the original text of "The Imagery of Sound and Music," distinguishing the precise meaning of each instrument’s described quality, and tracing its linguistic and cultural background. This foundational work is indispensable.

Second, the Confucian Perspective. Taking the musical theories of Masters Kong and Xun as the main thread, this essay will explore the inherent ritualistic thought ($\text{lǐ yuè sīxiǎng}$), civilizing concepts ($\text{jiào huà lǐ niàn}$), and theory of social order contained within the "Imagery of Sound and Music." We will extensively cite original passages from the Analects ($\text{Lún Yǔ}$), Mencius ($\text{Mèng Zǐ}$), Xunzi, Book of Rites: Record of Music ($\text{Lǐ Jì: Yuè Jì}$), Rites of Zhou ($\text{Zhōu Lǐ}$), Book of Rituals ($\text{Yí Lǐ}$), and the Zuo Zhuan ($\text{Zuǒ Zhuàn}$) as supporting evidence and resonance.

Third, the Daoist and Ancient Perspectives. Using the musical theories of Masters Laozi and Zhuangzi as reference points, this essay will explore the relationship between sound and music and the Dao. Simultaneously, it will delve into the background of ancient mythology, shamanistic traditions ($\text{wū xí chuán tǒng}$), and sacrificial rituals to trace the original cultural significance of various instruments and explore the primitive connection between sound and music and the spirits of Heaven and Earth. We will reference passages from works such as Classic of Mountains and Seas ($\text{Shān Hǎi Jīng}$), Songs of Chu ($\text{Chǔ Cí}$), Zhuangzi, and Annals of the Warring States ($\text{Lǚ Shì Chūn Qiū}$) for reference.

When citing classical texts, this essay adheres to the principle of "resonance" ($\text{hū yìng}$) rather than "comparison" ($\text{bǐ jiào}$). "Resonance" refers to the intellectual echo, reverberation, and mutual generation of ideas between different texts, rather than a simple comparison of similarities and differences. Although the various masters of the pre-Qin period had distinct aims, they shared a common cultural tradition, and their ideas often possess deep correlations. This essay seeks to uncover these correlations rather than manufacture oppositions.

Chapter Two: A Line-by-Line Interpretation of "The Imagery of Sound and Music": Ten Instruments, Ten Virtues

Section 1: General Overview: The System of Ten Instruments and Ten Virtues

The passage "The Imagery of Sound and Music" uses extremely concise language to describe the qualities of ten instruments (drum, bell, chime stone, yú, shēng, xiāo, guǎn, yuè, xūn, chí, sè, qín) plus song and dance—a total of twelve items—describing the character of each. These twelve items can be grouped as follows:

The arrangement of these twelve items is not arbitrary but follows an inherent logic. Generally speaking, the passage moves from percussion (drum to chime stone), to wind instruments (yú, shēng, xiāo to xūn, chí), to string instruments (sè, qín), concluding with song and dance. This sequence closely corresponds to the pre-Qin classification of the "Eight Tones" ($\text{bā yīn}$).

The "Eight Tones," as recorded in the Rites of Zhou ($\text{Zhōu Lǐ}$), Spring and Autumn Festivals: Grand Master ($\text{Chūn Guān: Dà Shī}$):

"All are spread forth by the Eight Tones: metal, stone, earth, leather, silk, wood, gourd, and bamboo."

Metal refers to bells, stone to chime stones, earth to xūn, leather to drums, silk to qín and sè, wood to the striking block (zhù) and the tiger scraper (yǔ), gourd to shēng and yú, and bamboo to xiāo, guǎn, yuè, and chí. Although Master Xunzi does not strictly follow the order of the Eight Tones, the instruments discussed cover the majority of these material categories.

More noteworthy is that Xunzi’s description of each instrument’s quality is highly precise and inherently suggestive. We will proceed with a line-by-line interpretation.

Section 2: "Drum is Grandly Beautiful" ($\text{gǔ dà lì}$) — The Imagery of the Drum

"The drum is grandly beautiful" ($\text{gǔ dà lì}$)—This states that the drum’s quality is both "grand" ($\text{dà}$) and "beautiful/adhering" ($\text{lì}$).

In the pre-Qin context, "grand" ($\text{dà}$) does not merely refer to physical size but also carries the meaning of sublime, magnificent, and supreme. The Yijing, in the commentary on the Qian Trigram ($\text{Qián guà}$), states:

"How grand is the Origin of Qian! The myriad things begin with it, and it embraces Heaven." ($\text{Dà zāi qián yuán, wàn wù zī shǐ, nǎi tǒng tiān}$.)

This use of "grand" describes the sublimity and vastness of the Dao of Heaven, incomparable to the mere "bigness" of size. Master Laozi also states:

"There is something mysterious and complete, born before Heaven and Earth. Silent! Empty! Standing alone and unchanging, revolving and never wearying. It may be taken as the mother of Heaven and Earth. I do not know its name, so I label it the Dao, and label it the Great ($\text{Dà}$)." (Laozi, Chapter 25)

"I label it the Great" ($\text{qiáng wéi zhī míng yuē dà}$)—The name of the Dao is "Great," using this character to denote that which is unspeakable and indescribable ultimate existence.

The "grandness" ($\text{dà}$) of the drum perfectly aligns with this meaning. The drum’s sound is deep, full, and earth-shaking, resembling the vastness of Heaven or the sublimity of the Dao. The drum is physically the largest of the instruments (large drums could be several feet high, and the jiàn gǔ and fēng gǔ were monumental), and its sound is the loudest and most far-reaching, hence its naming as "grand."

The meaning of "beautiful/adhering" ($\text{lì}$) requires closer scrutiny. Lì in pre-Qin texts has multiple meanings:

First, the meaning of "adhering" or "attaching to." The Yijing, in the commentary on the Li Trigram ($\text{Lí guà}$), states:

"Li ($\text{Lí}$) is adherence ($\text{lì}$). The sun and moon adhere ($\text{lì}$ $\text{yú}$ $\text{tiān}$) to Heaven; the hundred grains and grasses adhere ($\text{lì}$ $\text{yú}$ $\text{tǔ}$) to the Earth. When accumulated brightness adheres ($\text{lì}$) to what is correct, then the world is transformed."

This "adherence" ($\text{lì}$) means attachment or dependence. The sun and moon adhere to Heaven, and the grains and grasses adhere to Earth; the light of civilization adheres to the correct Way, thus transforming the world.

Second, the meaning of "illumination" or "splendor/beauty." The character lì incorporates the radical for "deer" ($\text{lù}$); the antlers of the deer are majestic and splendid, so lì is extended to mean splendor or brilliance.

Third, the meaning of "pairing" or "alignment." Lì shares the meaning of lì ($\text{俪}$), meaning to form a pair or alignment.

The "adherence" ($\text{lì}$) of the drum should incorporate the first two meanings. First, the drum’s sound is grand, adhering like the sun and moon to Heaven, radiating brilliance, making it the crown of all instruments, thus $\text{lì}$ carries the meaning of splendor and beauty. Second, the drum is the "sovereign" of music (as stated below), and all other instruments adhere to the drum’s rhythm to form the structure; the drum sound unifies the whole, and other instruments depend on its tempo, thus $\text{lì}$ carries the meaning of dependence and overall command.

Combining "Grand" ($\text{dà}$) and "Beautiful/Adhering" ($\text{lì}$), the drum's character is one of sublime greatness, splendor, and unifying command. This aligns perfectly with the subsequent statement "the drum resembles Heaven"—the character of Heaven is precisely "grand" ($\text{dà}$) and "adhering/brilliant" ($\text{lì}$): Heaven’s vastness is "grand," and Heaven’s sun, moon, and stars are its "adherence/brilliance."

Why does the drum alone merit this designation of "Grandly Beautiful"$11 Physically, the drum is covered with leather and hollow, struck by a mallet to produce sound. Its sound is deep and resonant, with a large amplitude and low frequency, enabling it to penetrate the sounds of other instruments and be perceived by the listener. In an ensemble, the drum sound forms the fundamental rhythmic skeleton, and all other instruments move according to its rhythm. Just as Heaven is the greatest and most sublime entity for the myriad things, the drum is the greatest and most sublime of instruments.

Culturally, the drum held a unique and esteemed position in ancient society. Drums were used in sacrifices to communicate with the spirits, in warfare to boost morale, in court to issue decrees, and in communal gatherings to harmonize host and guest. The Rites of Zhou, Office of the Earth: Drum Master ($\text{Dì Guān: Gǔ Rén}$), records the system of six drums used for different occasions, demonstrating the drum’s omnipresence in pre-Qin social life:

"They beat the Thunder Drum for divine sacrifices, the Spirit Drum for altars, the Road Drum for ghostly offerings, the Fèng Drum for military affairs, the Ráo Drum for public service, and the Jìn Drum for the metal music."

The six types of drums were used for distinct rituals, showing the drum’s significant political and ritual role. The "Grand Beauty" ($\text{dà lì}$) of the drum is not merely a description of its acoustic quality but a summary of its supreme status within the social functions of music.

We must ask: why does the drum occupy such a lofty position$12 This question requires tracing the origins of the drum in ancient society, which will be detailed in a later chapter.

Section 3: "Bell is Comprehensively Substantial" ($\text{zhōng tǒng shí}$) — The Imagery of the Bell

"The bell is comprehensively substantial" ($\text{zhōng tǒng shí}$)—This states the bell’s quality is both "comprehensive/unifying" ($\text{tǒng}$) and "substantial/solid" ($\text{shí}$).

The meaning of "unifying" ($\text{tǒng}$) is to lead, to synthesize, or to form the main thread. In Xunzi: Against the Twelve Philosophers ($\text{Fēi Shí Èr Zǐ}$), it states:

"Model the former kings, unify the rites and music ($\text{tǒng lǐ yì}$)."

Here, $\text{tǒng}$ means to synthesize or serve as the overall framework. The "unifying" ($\text{tǒng}$) nature of the bell means its sound has the function of synthesizing all other tones. In pre-Qin ensembles, bells (especially the set of bells, $\text{biān zhōng}$) held immense importance, often serving as the pitch standard for the entire ensemble and the marker for the structure of the musical piece. The ancients referred to music led by bells as "metal music" ($\text{jīn zòu}$). The Rites of Zhou, Office of Music: Bell Master ($\text{Chūn Guān: Zhōng Shī}$), records:

"The Bell Master is in charge of the Metal Music. Whenever there is a musical ceremony, the bell and drum sound the Nine Melodies of Summer." ($\text{Jiē bō zhī yǐ bā yīn: jīn, shí, tǔ, gé, sī, mù, páo, zhú}$)

"Metal Music" ($\text{jīn zòu}$) is the collective performance led by the bell, which is the concrete embodiment of the bell's "unifying" ($\text{tǒng}$) function.

The meaning of "substantial" ($\text{shí}$) in the pre-Qin context includes fullness, truthfulness, and fruitfulness, contrasting with "empty" ($\text{xū}$). "Substantial" implies richness of content, not hollowness. The bell’s "substantiality" ($\text{shí}$) refers to the deep, rich quality of its sound. Bells were cast from bronze (copper and tin alloy); their bodies are solid and thick. When struck, the sound is deep and full, lingering long without interruption, possessing a sense of stable gravity.

Combining "Unifying" ($\text{tǒng}$) and "Substantial" ($\text{shí}$), the bell's character is to unify all sounds while maintaining intrinsic richness. This aligns with the subsequent statement "the bell resembles Earth"—the character of Earth is precisely "unifying" ($\text{tǒng}$) and "substantial" ($\text{shí}$): Earth supports all things and serves as the unifying foundation for everything, possessing a heavy, substantial body rather than being empty and light.

The Yijing, in the commentary on the Kun Trigram ($\text{Kūn guà}$), states:

"How excellent is the original nature of Kun, by which the myriad things are nourished and brought to life, conforming to Heaven. Kun is rich and thick in carrying its burden ($\text{hòu zài wù}$), its virtue encompassing boundless expanse. It holds, encompasses, and radiates broadly, so that the classes of things are all prosperous." (Yì Jīng, Kun Gua, Xiàng Zhuàn)

"Kun is rich and thick in carrying its burden" ($\text{Kūn hòu zài wù}$)—Kun’s richness and capacity to bear weight match the bell’s "substantiality" ($\text{shí}$); "the classes of things are all prosperous" ($\text{pǐn wù xián hēng}$)—all things achieve prosperity, matching the bell’s "unifying" ($\text{tǒng}$) function. The bell’s "comprehensive substantiality" ($\text{tǒng shí}$) is precisely a reflection of Kun’s virtue.

Why does the bell merit the designation of "Comprehensively Substantial"$13 Physically, bells are cast from bronze, a solid and heavy material. The sound of the set of bells is solemn and weighty, with a long decay, functioning in the ensemble to set the pitch, stabilize the tempo, and lead the overall structure—serving a unifying role. The ancients cast bells with great care regarding the copper-tin ratio. The Rites of Zhou, Artificers' Record ($\text{Kǎo Gōng Jì}$), states:

"Metal has six alloys ($\text{qí}$): if one part in six is tin, it is called the alloy for bells and tripods."

This proportion demanded that the bell’s sound be rich and deep, not thin or frivolous. The character "substantial" ($\text{shí}$) describes both the solid, heavy body of the bell and the full, rich quality of its sound.

Culturally, the bell was a "heavy vessel" ($\text{zhòng qì}$) in pre-Qin times, not comparable to ordinary instruments. Bells and tripods were spoken of together as heavy vessels of the state. States possessing bells and tripods were esteemed, while their loss was considered a humiliation. The Zuo Zhuan ($\text{Zuǒ Zhuàn}$), in the second year of Duke Cheng, recounts the capture of the state of Qi's bells by Jin, indicating the great political significance of bells. The "unifying" ($\text{tǒng}$) aspect of the bell implies not just musical coordination but also political leadership.

Section 4: "Chime Stone is Pure and Regulated" ($\text{qìng lián zhì}$) — The Imagery of the Chime Stone

"The chime stone is pure and regulated" ($\text{qìng lián zhì}$)—This states the chime stone’s quality is both "pure/angular" ($\text{lián}$) and "regulated/controlled" ($\text{zhì}$).

The character "pure/angular" ($\text{lián}$) has multiple meanings in pre-Qin texts:

First, the meaning of "integrity" or "uprightness." Xunzi, On Self-Cultivation ($\text{Xiū Shēn}$) states: "Integrity ($\text{lián}$) without sharpness ($\text{guài}$)." Here, $\text{lián}$ means integrity.

Second, the meaning of "edge" or "distinctness." The original meaning of $\text{lián}$ relates to angularity; any part of an object with a clear edge can be called $\text{lián}$. Xunzi, Not Deviating ($\text{Bù Gǒu}$) states: "A gentleman is broad but not lax, $\text{lián}$ but not wounding ($\text{guài}$), dialectical but not contentious." Here, $\text{lián}$ is contrasted with $\text{guài}$ (wounding), meaning having clear edges without causing harm.

Third, the meaning of "crispness" or "clear resonance," derived from "distinct edges," describing a sound that is crisp and clean, without lingering ambiguity.

The "purity/angularity" ($\text{lián}$) of the chime stone should incorporate the latter two meanings. The chime stone (or jade chime stone) is struck, producing a sound that is crisp, sharp, clear-edged, distinct, and not muddled. This sound stands in sharp contrast to the drum's "grandness" ($\text{dà}$), the bell's "substantiality" ($\text{shí}$), and the chime stone’s sound is clear and flowing like water, transparent to the bottom.

The meaning of "regulated" ($\text{zhì}$) is restraint, standard, or rule. Xunzi, The Kingly Way ($\text{Wáng Zhì}$) states: "Regulate ($\text{zhì}$) and then employ it." Here, $\text{zhì}$ means system or restraint. The "regulation" ($\text{zhì}$) of the chime stone implies its quality of measured restraint—it is not overly ostentatious or wildly unrestrained, but characterized by proper limits and measure.

Combining "Pure/Angular" ($\text{lián}$) and "Regulated" ($\text{zhì}$), the chime stone’s character is crisp and distinct, yet measured and restrained. This aligns with the subsequent statement "the chime stone resembles Water"—the character of water is precisely "pure/angular" ($\text{lián}$) and "regulated" ($\text{zhì}$): Water's clarity and transparency constitute its "purity/angularity" ($\text{lián}$) (immaculate clarity), and its tendency to follow the terrain and conform to containers constitutes its "regulation" ($\text{zhì}$) (having restraint, not overstepping boundaries).

Master Laozi speaks of water:

"The highest good is like water. Water benefits myriad things and does not contend; it dwells in places that people disdain, thus it is close to the Dao. Goodness in dwelling is in position; goodness in the mind is in depth; goodness in association is in benevolence; goodness in speaking is in trustworthiness; goodness in governance is in order; goodness in action is in capability; goodness in timing is in movement. Because it does not contend, it is blameless." (Laozi, Chapter 8)

Water’s "non-contention" ($\text{bù zhēng}$) matches the chime stone’s "regulation" ($\text{zhì}$) —measured restraint without aggressive assertion. Water "benefits myriad things" while remaining intrinsically clear, matching the chime stone’s "purity/angularity" ($\text{lián}$) —upright and beneficial to others.

Why does the chime stone, made of hard stone, resemble soft water$14 This is a profound question. Stone is extremely hard; water is extremely soft. How can the sound of a stone instrument resemble water$15 The answer lies in the distinction between "sound" ($\text{shēng}$) and "substance" ($\text{tǐ}$). Although the chime stone’s body is stone (hard), its sound is clear and flowing like water (soft). This embodies Laozi’s principle that "the soft overcomes the hard." The hardness of the stone produces the softness of the sound—there is deep significance here.

The function of the chime stone in the pre-Qin ensemble corresponds to its "pure and regulated" ($\text{lián zhì}$) character. Ancient texts mention:

"Striking the ringing jade-chime ($\text{míng qiú}$), beating the drum, playing the qín and sè in order to chant." (Book of Documents, Yi Ji)

The "ringing jade-chime" ($\text{míng qiú}$) is the chime stone, which served to regulate and conclude sections in the music, possessing a "regulating" ($\text{zhì}$) function. The ancients said, "striking the chime stone to cease the music" ($\text{jī qìng yǐ zhǐ yuè}$); the chime stone’s clear, short sound was suitable for marking the sections and turning points of a piece, thus fulfilling the function of "regulation" ($\text{zhì}$).

Section 5: "Yu, Sheng, and Xiao are Harmonious" ($\text{yú shēng xiāo hé}$) — The Harmony of Wind Instruments

"The yú, shēng, and xiāo are harmonious" ($\text{yú shēng xiāo hé}$)—This states the character of these three wind instruments is "harmony" ($\text{hé}$).

The concept of "Harmony" ($\text{hé}$) holds a supremely exalted position in pre-Qin philosophy. "Harmony" ($\text{hé}$) is not "Sameness" ($\text{tóng}$); this is a crucial distinction in pre-Qin thought. The Discourses of the States ($\text{Guó Yǔ}$), in the "Speech of Zheng" ($\text{Zhèng Yǔ}$), records the words of Scholar Shi Bo:

"Harmony ($\text{hé}$) indeed generates things; Sameness ($\text{tóng}$) cannot continue. To equalize the different ($\text{yǐ tā píng tā}$) is called harmony ($\text{hé}$), hence it can flourish and things return to it. If one adds sameness to sameness, everything will eventually be discarded."

"To equalize the different" ($\text{yǐ tā píng tā}$) is harmony ($\text{hé}$); accumulating identical elements results in mere sameness ($\text{tóng}$). "Harmony" generates, "Sameness" does not. This distinction is profoundly significant.

Furthermore, the Zuo Zhuan ($\text{Zuǒ Zhuàn}$), in the twentieth year of Duke Zhao, records Yanzi’s discussion distinguishing "Harmony" from "Sameness":

"Harmony is like a soup: water, fire, vinegar, salted meat paste, salt, and plums are used to cook fish and fowl, heated by firewood, seasoned by the cook. ... Sound is like flavor: one primary tone ($\text{yī qì}$), two structures ($\text{èr tǐ}$), three classes ($\text{sān lèi}$), four materials ($\text{sì wù}$), five notes ($\text{wǔ shēng}$), six pitches ($\text{liù lǜ}$), seven tones ($\text{qī yīn}$), eight winds ($\text{bā fēng}$), nine songs ($\text{jiǔ gē$), inter-completing each other. Clarity and turbidity, large and small, long and short, fast and slow, sorrowful and joyful, hard and soft, slow and quick, high and low, in and out, sparse and dense, complement each other ($\text{yǐ xiāng jì yě}$)."

Yanzi uses cooking to illustrate musical "harmony" ($\text{hé}$), pointing out that "harmony" is the mutual cooperation, supplementation, and coordination of different sounds. The many contrasting elements—"clarity and turbidity, large and small," etc.—"complement each other" ($\text{yǐ xiāng jì yě}$), resulting in "harmony" ($\text{hé}$).

Why do the yú, shēng, and xiāo embody "harmony" ($\text{hé}$)$16

The yú and shēng both belong to the gourd family (the shēng has a gourd chamber). Structurally, both are reed instruments where multiple pipes are inserted into a gourd chamber. Blowing into the chamber allows several pipes to sound simultaneously, producing a "chord" effect from a single player. This is the most unique characteristic among pre-Qin instruments—most produce only one note at a time, while the shēng can produce multiple notes simultaneously, which is the essence of "harmony" ($\text{hé}$). The Book of Odes ($\text{Shī Jīng}$), Minor Odes of the Kingdom, Deer Call ($\text{Lù Míng}$), states:

"I have worthy guests; I strike the sè and blow the shēng. Blowing the shēng and beating the reeds, receiving the baskets they bring."

"Striking the sè and blowing the shēng"—the pairing of sè and shēng is an embodiment of "harmony" ($\text{hé}$). "Blowing the shēng and beating the reeds"—the shēng produces sound via its reeds, with multiple reeds vibrating together, making the instrument itself an image of "harmony" ($\text{hé}$).

The yú is similar to the shēng but larger, with more pipes, producing a louder sound. The xiāo (the ancient xiāo was not the modern vertical flute but a panpipe, a set of arranged pipes) was also a multi-pipe instrument. All three are characterized by the coordinated action of multiple pipes, and their sound quality is defined by "harmony" ($\text{hé}$).

On a deeper level, "harmony" ($\text{hé}$) in pre-Qin thought is not just a musical term but a social ideal. The Analects, in the chapter Xue Er ($\text{Xué Ér}$), records Ziyou’s saying:

"In the application of Rites ($\text{Lǐ}$), harmony ($\text{hé}$) is most valued. The way of the former kings, this is what is beautiful."

"Harmony is most valued" ($\text{hé wéi guì}$) is the highest realization of $\text{Lǐ}$. The "harmony" ($\text{hé}$) of the yú, shēng, and xiāo not only describes their musical quality but also subtly implies the social ideal of achieving harmony through music—different sounds coordinating, like different groups of people living in harmony.

Section 6: "Guan and Yue Emit Fierceness" ($\text{guǎn yuè fā měng}$) — The Fierceness of Tube Instruments

"The guǎn and yuè emit fierceness" ($\text{guǎn yuè fā měng}$)—This states the quality of the guǎn and yuè wind instruments is "emitting fierceness" ($\text{fā měng}$).

The character "emit" ($\text{fā}$) means to inspire, stimulate, or set in motion. The character "fierceness" ($\text{měng}$) means vehemence, strength, or spirited exertion. Combined, "emitting fierceness" ($\text{fā měng}$) means their sound is vigorous and resolute, stirring the human spirit.

The guǎn is a single-pipe instrument, typically made of bamboo, blown either straight or across the embouchure, producing a high, sharp, penetrating sound. The yuè is also a bamboo wind instrument; the Erya ($\text{Ěryǎ}$, an ancient glossary) identifies the yuè as a three-holed flute. The sound of the guǎn and yuè, compared to the "harmony" ($\text{hé}$) of the yú, shēng, and xiāo, is simpler, more direct, and more soaring. Because they are single-pipe instruments (or few-piped), not multi-piped like the shēng, their sound is more focused and sharp, possessing a penetrating quality.

Why are they described as "emitting fierceness" ($\text{fā měng}$)$17 "Emit" ($\text{fā}$) is like "to develop" or "to launch"—the sound soars high and travels far, possessing strong penetrative power; "Fierceness" ($\text{měng}$) is like "vehement" or "powerful"—the sound is resolute and strong, stirring the human will.

The function of the guǎn and yuè in the ensemble is precisely to "emit fierceness" ($\text{fā měng}$): amidst the deep resonance of the drum, the substance of the bell, the crispness of the chime stone, and the harmony of the shēng and yú, the guǎn and yuè interject with their high-pitched, sharp sounds, like a general’s horn in the army, invigorating the spirit and stimulating resolution.

The Book of Odes, Greater Hymns of Zhou ($\text{Zhōu Sòng}$), Yǒu Gǔ ($\text{Yǒu Gǔ}$), states:

"When the rites are prepared, then begin the performance; the xiāo and guǎn are raised together." ($\text{Xiāo guǎn bèi jǔ}$)

"The xiāo and guǎn are raised together" shows that the guǎn held an important position even in the ancestral temple music of the pre-Qin period.

Furthermore, the Book of Odes, Airs of Bei ($\text{Bèi Fēng}$), Jiǎn Xī ($\text{Jiǎn Xī}$), states:

"In the left hand, holding the yuè; in the right, grasping the pheasant tail feathers ($\text{dí}$)." ($\text{Zuǒ shǒu zhí yuè, yòu shǒu bǐng dí}$)

This describes a dance poem; the dancer holds the yuè in the left hand and pheasant feathers in the right, showing that the yuè was not only used for playing but also held as a ritual implement during dance, possessing a ceremonial function.

The term "emitting fierceness" ($\text{fā měng}$) resonates with the later cosmic correspondence: "The yú, shēng, xiāo, guǎn, and yuè resemble the stars, the sun, and the moon." The brilliance of the stars and the sun is precisely "fiercely emitted" ($\text{fā měng}$)—their light radiates powerfully, piercing the darkness and illuminating all directions. The sound of the guǎn and yuè is like the light of the sun and moon, soaring high and far, rousing the human heart.

We must ask: why are the yú, shēng, xiāo separated from the guǎn and yuè$18 They are all wind instruments; why such different qualities$19

The answer lies in the structural differences of the instruments. The yú, shēng, and xiāo (panpipe) are "multi-pipe" instruments; the simultaneous sounding of multiple pipes naturally produces the quality of "harmony" ($\text{hé}$). The guǎn and yuè are "single-pipe" instruments (or few-piped); the single pipe produces sound independently, naturally resulting in the quality of "fierce emission" ($\text{fā měng}$). "Multi" leads to "harmony"; "single" leads to "fierceness"—this is a quality determined by the instrument's intrinsic structure, not an arbitrarily assigned quality. Xunzi’s "Imagery of Sound and Music" is a precise capture of these natural qualities.

This distinction also contains profound social philosophy. "Harmony" ($\text{hé}$) is the virtue of the collective—many people coordinating, like the multi-pipe resonance of the shēng and yú. "Fierce Emission" ($\text{fā měng}$) is the virtue of the individual—a single person striving vigorously, like the single-pipe assertion of the guǎn and yuè. Society requires both collective harmony and individual vigor; neither can be dispensed with.

Section 7: "Xun and Chi are Expansive and Ample" ($\text{xūn chí wēng bó}$) — The Breadth of Earthly Instruments

"The xūn and chí are expansive and ample" ($\text{xūn chí wēng bó}$)—This states the quality of the xūn and chí instruments is "expansive and ample" ($\text{wēng bó}$).

The character "expansive/old" ($\text{wēng}$) here is often equated with "瓮" (wèng, jar) or "buzzing" (wēng), describing a sound that is deep, full, and continuously reverberating, like the sound emanating from a large jar. It can also be interpreted as "dignified and voluminous" ($\text{yōng róng}$), implying a sound that is steady and full, neither rushed nor impatient. Both interpretations converge on the sound being deep and substantial.

The character "ample/broad" ($\text{bó}$) means extensive or comprehensive. The "breadth" ($\text{bó}$) of the sound refers to its wide range and deep timbre, possessing a character capable of embracing all things.

Combining "Expansive/Old" ($\text{wēng}$) and "Ample" ($\text{bó}$), the sound of the xūn and chí is deep and reverberating, yet broad and inclusive.

The xūn is made of fired clay, hollow, with a blowing hole and finger holes. Its sound is extremely unique—low, deep, slightly husky, carrying a sense of vast, distant melancholy, like the breath of the earth or an echo from antiquity. This sound is the most "archaic" among all instruments, with the least ornamentation or superficial brilliance, yet it most profoundly touches the deepest emotions of the heart.

The chí is a bamboo transverse flute, closed at one end, producing a sound that is also relatively deep and rich, softer and more reserved than the flute (dí).

Why are xūn and chí grouped together as "expansive and ample" ($\text{wēng bó}$)$20 From the material perspective, the xūn is made of earth, and the chí of bamboo; from the structural perspective, the xūn is egg-shaped and hollow, while the chí is a tube closed at one end. Despite different materials and forms, why do they share the quality of "expansive and ample" ($\text{wēng bó}$)$21

The answer lies in their common characteristic: both are wind instruments with closed or semi-closed structures. The xūn is essentially a sealed hollow body (with only finger/blowing holes), and the chí is a closed tube. This structure allows the air current to vibrate fully inside the vessel, producing a deep, rich timbre. Compared to open-tube instruments (like the flute or guǎn) whose sounds are bright and soaring, the xūn and chí sounds are more reserved, introverted, deep, and substantial, hence described as "expansive and ample" ($\text{wēng bó}$).

The character "ample/broad" ($\text{bó}$) holds particular significance. Xunzi, On Self-Cultivation states: "Hearing much is called breadth ($\text{bó}$)." The Analects, in the chapter Zi Han ($\text{Zǐ Hán}$), records Master Kong’s saying:

"Expand me with culture ($\text{wén}$), and restrict me with ritual ($\text{lǐ}$)."

"Breadth" ($\text{bó}$) means extensive and inclusive. Why is the sound of the xūn and chí considered "ample" ($\text{bó}$)$22 Because their sound is deep and substantial, lacking sharpness or aggression, possessing a capacity to embrace everything. Like the vastness of the Earth that accommodates all things, the sound of the xūn and chí can integrate with the sounds of other instruments without asserting itself or suppressing others, serving as a deep foundation that supports the ensemble.

The xūn and chí are often mentioned together in pre-Qin poetry. The Book of Odes, Minor Odes of the Kingdom, Hé Rén Sī ($\text{Hé Rén Sī}$), states:

"The elder brother plays the xūn, the second brother plays the chí." ($\text{Bó shì chuī xūn, zhòng shì chuī chí}$)

The pairing of "xun and chi" symbolizes fraternal harmony (later, "the affection of xūn and chí" refers to brotherly affection). Why can the xūn and chí symbolize brotherhood$23 Precisely because their sounds are both "expansive and ample" ($\text{wēng bó}$)—deep, broad, and inclusive—which is the virtue that should exist between brothers: being broad-minded and tolerant toward others, accommodating differences, and jointly supporting the harmony of the lineage.

Section 8: "Se is Easily Good" ($\text{sè yì liáng}$) — The Goodness of the Se

"The sè is easily good" ($\text{sè yì liáng}$)—This states the quality of the sè (zither) is both "easy/gentle" ($\text{yì}$) and "good" ($\text{liáng}$).

The character "easy/gentle" ($\text{yì}$) has multiple meanings in pre-Qin texts:

First, the meaning of "gentle" or "mild." As mentioned in passages describing the demeanor of the virtuous, it implies approachability. This aligns with the attitude of King Yu, praised by Confucius in the Analects, Tai Bo ($\text{Tài Bó}$): "He reduced the size of his palaces and devoted his efforts to dykes and moats." This is the attitude of "easy" ($\text{yì}$)—approachable and not aloof.

Second, the meaning of "changeability" ($\text{biàn yì}$), as in the Yijing ($\text{Zhōu Yì}$).

Third, the meaning of "simplicity" ($\text{jiǎn yì}$). The Yijing, Great Treatise ($\text{Xì Cí}$), states: "If it is easily understood ($\text{yì yì}$), it is easily known... if it is easily known, then people will be close to it."

The "easy" ($\text{yì}$) quality of the sè should refer to its "gentle" and "mild" nature. The sè is a multi-stringed instrument (pre-Qin sè often had twenty-five strings). Having many strings allows for a wide range and a gentle, pleasing tone. Unlike the qín, which is compact and focused, the sè's sound spreads out, like spring rain nurturing the earth, mild and moistening.

The meaning of "good" ($\text{liáng}$) is kindness, excellence, or superior quality. Although Master Xunzi adheres to the theory of "evil nature," he also acknowledges that acquired "goodness" ($\text{liáng}$) can be achieved through conscious effort. The "goodness" ($\text{liáng}$) of the sè means its sound is benevolent and mild, lacking any sharp or grating quality, making listeners sincerely pleased.

Combining "Easy/Gentle" ($\text{yì}$) and "Good" ($\text{liáng}$), the sè's character is mild, approachable, and inherently good. This character perfectly matches the sè's form and function.

The sè was widely used in pre-Qin rites and music. The Book of Odes frequently mentions "striking the sè":

"The graceful, modest young lady, the qín and sè delight her." (Shī Jīng, Guān Jū)

"I have worthy guests; I strike the sè and strike the qín." (Shī Jīng, Lù Míng)

"The qín and sè are being played; all is quiet and well." (Shī Jīng, Nǚ Yuē Jī Míng)

The sè is often paired with the qín in banquets, sacrifices, and intimate music. Its wide range and mild tone made it suitable for accompanying song, thus explaining its extensive application in ritual and music practice.

The "easily good" ($\text{yì liáng}$) quality of the sè also carries a hidden social philosophy. "Easy" ($\text{yì}$) implies approachability, and "Good" ($\text{liáng}$) implies benevolence—a mild, approachable, and kind character is precisely the virtue of the ideal gentleman sought by pre-Qin Confucians. The Analects, in Xue Er ($\text{Xué Ér}$), states:

"The Master's manner was warm, benevolent, respectful, frugal, and yielding." ($\text{wēn, liáng, gōng, jiǎn, ràng}$)

The Master's five virtues include "good" ($\text{liáng}$). The "goodness" ($\text{liáng}$) of the sè thus corresponds to Confucius's virtue of "goodness" ($\text{liáng}$).

Section 9: "Qin is Pleasantly Feminine" ($\text{qín fù hǎo}$) — The Imagery of the Qin

"The qín is pleasantly feminine" ($\text{qín fù hǎo}$)—This states the quality of the qín (guqin) is "pleasantly feminine" ($\text{fù hǎo}$).

The interpretation of these three characters has varied historically. The key lies in how "feminine" ($\text{fù}$) is understood.

First, some scholars interpret "feminine" ($\text{fù}$) as meaning "gentle and graceful" ($\text{róu wǎn}$). "Pleasantly feminine" ($\text{fù hǎo}$) describes a sound that is gentle and beautiful, reflecting the actual quality of the qín's sound. The qín has few strings (five or seven in the pre-Qin era); its range is focused, and its tone is quiet and subtly graceful, more reserved and introverted than the sè, hence described as "pleasantly feminine" ($\text{fù hǎo}$).

Second, some scholars take "feminine" ($\text{fù}$) as a variant of "to spread" ($\text{fū}$), making "pleasantly feminine" ($\text{fù hǎo}$) mean "spread beautifully" ($\text{pū hǎo}$), describing the ubiquitous beauty of the qín's sound.

Third, some interpret "pleasantly feminine" ($\text{fù hǎo}$) literally as "like the pleasantness of a woman" ($\text{rú fù rén zhī hǎo}$), describing the qín's sound as gentle and soft like a woman's grace. This interpretation, while direct, is not necessarily derogatory; pre-Qin thought did not universally view "feminine beauty" as inferior but as a distinct quality.

Regardless of interpretation, "pleasantly feminine" ($\text{fù hǎo}$) describes a sound quality of gentleness, subtlety, and beauty. This contrasts sharply with the drum's "grand beauty" ($\text{dà lì}$) and the bell's "comprehensive substantiality" ($\text{tǒng shí}$). The drum and bell possess qualities of strength and depth; the qín possesses qualities of gentleness and subtlety. It is this balance of hard and soft that constitutes perfect "harmony" ($\text{hé}$) in the ensemble.

The qín's status in pre-Qin culture was highly unique. It was not merely an instrument but a tool for self-cultivation for the gentleman. Master Kong played the qín throughout his life. Although the Records of the Grand Historian ($\text{Shǐ Jì}$) is a Han work, the account of Confucius learning the qín from Master Xiangzi likely preserves a pre-Qin tradition. The Analects, in the chapter Yang Huo ($\text{Yáng Huò}$), records Confucius saying:

"When the Master arrived in Wu Cheng, he heard the sound of strings and song. The Master smiled slightly and said, 'Why use an ox-slaughtering knife to carve a chicken$24'" ($\text{Gē yán, zǐ zài qí wén xián gē zhī shēng, fū zǐ wǎn ěr ér xiào yuē: 'Gē jī yān yòng niú dāo$25')

"Strings and song" ($\text{xián gē}$) meant playing the qín or sè to accompany singing, a common practice in pre-Qin education. The "pleasantly feminine" ($\text{fù hǎo}$) quality of the qín—its gentle beauty—corresponds to its function of "self-cultivation" ($\text{xiū shēn}$) and "moral guidance" ($\text{jiào huà}$): it does not subdue men through force but transforms them through gentle persuasion.

We must again ask: why are the qín and sè distinguished$26 Both are silk-stringed instruments, yet their qualities differ.

The answer lies in their structural differences. The sè has many strings (twenty-five or more), giving it a broad range and moderate volume; its sound unfolds gently, like wind warming the earth—hence, "easily good" ($\text{yì liáng}$). The qín has few strings (five or seven); while its range is not narrow, the fewer strings mean each must bear more expressive responsibility. Performance emphasizes subtle finger techniques (such as vibrato, gliding, bending, etc.), resulting in a tone that is more reserved, internalized, subtle, and refined—hence, "pleasantly feminine" ($\text{fù hǎo}$).

The sè's "easily good" ($\text{yì liáng}$) leans toward expansion, mildness, and breadth; the qín's "pleasantly feminine" ($\text{fù hǎo}$) leans toward internalization, subtlety, and grace. The two are Yin and Yang, hard and soft, complementing each other.

Section 10: "Song is Purely Exhaustive" ($\text{gē qīng jìn}$) — The Exhaustion of Song

"Song is purely exhaustive" ($\text{gē qīng jìn}$)—This states the quality of song is both "pure" ($\text{qīng}$) and "exhaustive" ($\text{jìn}$).

The meaning of "pure" ($\text{qīng}$) is crucial in pre-Qin contexts. "Pure" means clear, transparent, and upright. Xunzi, Dispelling Obscurity ($\text{Jiě Bì}$) states:

"How does the heart know$1 It is when the heart is empty, unified, and still. ... When the heart is empty, unified, and still, it is called Great Clarity and Brightness ($\text{dà qīng míng}$)."

The highest state of the heart is "Great Clarity and Brightness" ($\text{dà qīng míng}$); "purity" ($\text{qīng}$) is the supreme quality of the mind. Song’s "purity" ($\text{qīng}$) means the human voice, when sung, possesses a quality of clarity and purity. The human voice differs from instruments: instruments are constrained by material and craftsmanship, inevitably carrying the characteristics of their substance (metal sounds deep, stone sounds brittle, bamboo sounds bright, earth sounds subdued). The human voice, however, issues from the mouth and originates from the heart; if the heart is clear, the sound will naturally be clear. Song’s "purity" ($\text{qīng}$) is the external manifestation of the heart’s "purity" ($\text{xīn qīng}$).

The meaning of "exhaustive" ($\text{jìn}$) is to reach the end, completeness, or perfect fulfillment. Master Kong comments on the Shao Music ($\text{sháo yuè}$):

"The Master said of the Shao: 'It is perfectly beautiful ($\text{jìn měi}$), and moreover perfectly good ($\text{jìn shàn}$). As for the Wu Music, it is perfectly beautiful, but not perfectly good.'" (Analects, Ba Yi)

"Perfectly beautiful" and "perfectly good"—"exhaustive" ($\text{jìn}$) means complete. Song’s "exhaustiveness" ($\text{jìn}$) means that singing can fully express human emotion, exhausting the depth and breadth of feeling without reservation. Instrumental music requires a material medium (metal, stone, earth, bamboo, silk, etc.); human song proceeds directly from the heart, transmitted through the mouth, with the fewest intervening steps, thus achieving the greatest "purity" ($\text{qīng}$) and "exhaustiveness" ($\text{jìn}$).

We must ask: Why is human song placed after the ten instruments and before dance$2

Logically, the passage describes the qualities of various instruments sequentially, and song represents an elevation of instrumental music—a leap from the material instrument to the human voice, from "instrument" ($\text{qì}$) to "person" ($\text{rén}$). Dance further advances this, moving from "sound" ($\text{shēng}$) to "body" ($\text{shēn}$), from hearing to sight and kinesthesia, from "human sound" to "human body." The progression from instrumental music to song to dance is one of deepening involvement and ultimate sublimation.

The Book of Rites: Record of Music offers a similar description:

"Thus, the singer, the high notes are like ascending, the low notes like descending, the curves like bending, the pauses like dead wood, the upright posture like a square, the bent posture like a hook, the connected phrases like strung pearls."

These descriptions emphasize the clarity, precision, and perfection of song, matching "pure and exhaustive" ($\text{qīng jìn}$).

Section 11: "Dance Combines the Intent of the Dao of Heaven" ($\text{wǔ yì tiān dào jiān}$) — The Comprehensiveness of Dance

"Dance combines the intent of the Dao of Heaven" ($\text{wǔ yì tiān dào jiān}$)—These five characters describe the quality of dance as "combining" ($\text{jiān}$) the "intent" ($\text{yì}$) of the "Dao of Heaven" ($\text{tiān dào}$). This sentence is the summary and climax of the entire passage, and also the most difficult to interpret.

"Intent" ($\text{yì}$) here should be understood as "purpose" or "meaning." "Dao of Heaven" ($\text{tiān dào}$) refers to the Great Dao of Heaven. "Combine" ($\text{jiān}$) means to possess or encompass both. Taken together, it means that the purpose of dance is to encompass the Dao of Heaven—dance uses the human body as a medium to express the entirety of the Dao’s meaning, encompassing the principles of Heaven and Earth and the myriad things.

Why can dance "combine the intent of the Dao of Heaven"$3 This is the core question of this section, which Master Xunzi answers profoundly in the following passage ("How is the intent of dance known$4"), detailed in the next chapter. Here, we offer only a preliminary analysis of the five characters themselves.

The status of dance in pre-Qin ritual music was the highest. The Rites of Zhou, Office of Music: Grand Master ($\text{Chūn Guān: Dà Sī Yuè}$), records:

"Using music and dance to instruct the nobility of the state, they dance the Yunmen, Da Juan, Da Xian, Da Ao, Da Xia, Da Huo, and Da Wu."

All Six Dynasties' Music is named after its "dance" ($\text{wǔ}$), indicating that "dance" was the highest form of music. Why$5 Because dance is the only art form that utilizes the entire human body as its medium: the drum is struck with a mallet, the bell struck with a rod, the qín plucked with fingers, song sung with the mouth—all use only a part of the body as a tool. Only dance uses the entirety of the person—head, neck, shoulders, arms, hands, waist, legs, feet—to express meaning.

The use of "combine" ($\text{jiān}$) lies precisely here. Each instrument/activity captures one aspect of the Dao: the drum for "grandness," the bell for "substantiality," the chime stone for "purity," and so on; song for "purity and exhaustion," which is close to completeness but still limited to the auditory realm. Only dance, using the entire body, combining sight and kinesthesia, and encompassing rhythm and melody (moving in time with the bell and drum), combines both hardness and softness (the alternation of rising/falling, bending/stretching, advancing/retreating, slow/fast), and thus can "combine the intent of the Dao of Heaven" ($\text{yì tiān dào jiān}$) by embodying the Dao’s totality through the body’s complete movement and comprehensive meaning.

The Philosopher Lü's Spring and Autumn Annals ($\text{Lǚ Shì Chūn Qiū}$), in the section Ancient Music ($\text{Gǔ Yuè}$), records:

"In the time of Lord Getian, the music involved three men holding ox tails and stamping their feet while singing eight movements."

Ancient music was intrinsically integrated with song and dance—"holding ox tails, stamping their feet while singing"—involving the entire body. This was the most primal form of music and also its highest form.

The phrase "Dao of Heaven" ($\text{tiān dào}$) here also holds deep meaning. Xunzi’s concept of the Dao of Heaven differs from that of Laozi and Zhuangzi. Xunzi: On Heaven ($\text{Tiān Lùn}$) states:

"The movements of Heaven possess constancy; they do not stop for Yao, nor do they cease for Jie."

Xunzi’s Dao of Heaven refers to the regular order of natural operation. The "combining the intent of the Dao of Heaven" ($\text{yì tiān dào jiān}$) in dance means using the ordered movement of the human body to simulate and correspond to the ordered operation of the Dao of Heaven. Heaven has the alternation of day and night (like the alternation of rising and falling), the cycle of four seasons (like the coming and going of advancing and retreating), and the waxing and waning of Yin and Yang (like the variation in speed). The dancer uses bodily movements to "interpret" the operation of the Dao of Heaven—this is the profound meaning of "combining the intent of the Dao of Heaven."

Section 12: The Overall Structure of the Ten Instruments and Ten Virtues

Reviewing the entire passage of "The Imagery of Sound and Music," the qualities of the twelve instruments/activities can be summarized as follows:

• Drum: Grandly Beautiful ($\text{dà lì}$): Sublime and splendid, the sovereign of music.
• Bell: Comprehensively Substantial ($\text{tǒng shí}$): Unifying and substantial, the foundation of music.
• Chime Stone: Pure and Regulated ($\text{lián zhì}$): Crisp and restrained, the standard of music.
• Yú, Shēng, Xiāo: Harmonious ($\text{hé}$): Coordinated and concordant, the confluence of music.
• Guǎn, Yuè: Emitting Fierceness ($\text{fā měng}$): Vigorous and resolute, the spirit of music.
• Xūn, Chí: Expansive and Ample ($\text{wēng bó}$): Deep and broad, the substance of music.
• Sè: Easily Good ($\text{yì liáng}$): Gentle and kind, the warmth of music.
• Qín: Pleasantly Feminine ($\text{fù hǎo}$): Subtle and beautiful, the grace of music.
• Song: Purely Exhaustive ($\text{qīng jìn}$): Clear and complete, the sincerity of music.
• Dance: Combines the Intent of the Dao of Heaven ($\text{yì tiān dào jiān}$): Encompassing the Dao of Heaven, the totality of music.

The qualities of these twelve items neatly form a spectrum moving from hard to soft, from external to internal, and from part to whole. The drum is the most rigid, external, and largest; dance is the most complete, internal, and encompassing. The entire arrangement represents a progression from "instrument" to "person," from "part" to "whole," and from "one aspect of the Dao of Heaven" to "the totality of the Dao of Heaven."

This is not merely an aesthetic description but a miniature cosmology—using the framework of the twelve sonic elements to mirror the structure of the myriad things in Heaven and Earth. The next chapter will discuss the specific unfolding of this cosmology.

Chapter Three: Instruments and Heaven and Earth: The Acoustic Mapping of the Cosmological Diagram

Section 1: "Is Not the Drum the Sovereign of Music$6" ($\text{gǔ qí yuè zhī jūn xié}$) — The Drum as Musical Sovereign

The second passage opens with the assertion: "Is not the drum the sovereign of music$7" ($\text{gǔ qí yuè zhī jūn xié}$).

This sentence, phrased as a rhetorical question, puts forth a crucial judgment: the drum is the "sovereign" ($\text{jūn}$) of sound and music. The structure "Is it not...$8" ($\text{qí...xié}$) is a pre-Qin rhetorical device, meaning "Is it not the case that...$9", delivered with firm and slightly passionate emphasis.

Why is the drum the "sovereign" ($\text{jūn}$) of music$10

The character "sovereign" ($\text{jūn}$) has a dual meaning in pre-Qin usage: first, a ruler or leader; second, the highest or most venerable entity. The drum being the "sovereign" of music means it holds a dominating position in the ensemble—it governs the entirety, determines the rhythm, controls the tempo, and all other instruments must obey the drum's beat.

This is not unique to Xunzi. The Book of Rites: Record of Music ($\text{Lǐ Jì: Yuè Jì}$) also states:

"The sound of the drum ($\text{gǔ pǐ}$) is clamorous ($\text{huān}$). Clamor establishes movement ($\text{lì dòng}$); movement advances the multitude ($\text{jìn zhòng}$)."

The drum’s sound is "clamorous" (grand and stirring), used to "establish movement" (set the dynamic rhythm) and "advance the multitude" (guide the group forward). The drum sound is the rallying signal for the ensemble, the unified beat for the collective.

In pre-Qin ritual practice, the drum’s status was indeed supreme. In sacrifices, banquets, military expeditions, or hunts, the drum provided the command. In ensemble playing, the drummer strikes the drum to set the tempo, and all instruments enter according to this beat. Just as a state has a sovereign, the drum is the sovereign of music.

We must ask a deeper question here: Why the drum, and not the bell, the chime stone, or the qín, as the "sovereign"$11

From a physical perspective, the drum’s acoustic characteristics naturally suit it for the role of "Musical Sovereign." The drum’s low frequency and high amplitude provide strong penetration, making its sound the most easily perceived among all instruments. The drum’s rhythm is clear and unambiguous (a distinct "Dong—Dong—Dong—"), unlike string or wind instruments which have melodic fluctuations, making it most suitable as the unified rhythmic baseline. The drum’s decay is rapid (the leather vibrates and ceases quickly), ensuring clear rhythmic punctuation, unlike the long resonance of the bell which can muddy the tempo. All these physical qualities make the drum naturally the rhythmic leader of the ensemble.

From a symbolic perspective, the drum’s status as "sovereign" ($\text{jūn}$) is closely related to its resemblance to Heaven (discussed below). Heaven is the sovereign of all things; the drum is the sovereign of instruments. This correspondence is the core of the entire "Imagery of Sound and Music" cosmology.

Furthermore, the drum as "sovereign" carries a political philosophical implication. Xunzi’s political thought centers on the concept of the "Ruler" ($\text{jūn}$). Xunzi: The Way of the Ruler ($\text{Jūn Dào}$) states:

"The ruler is the source ($\text{yuán}$) of the people. If the source is pure, the stream is pure; if the source is turbid, the stream is turbid."

The ruler is the source of the people. Similarly, the drum is the source of music: if the drum sets the rhythm, all instruments follow; if the drum sound is pure, the music is pure; if the drum sound is chaotic, the music is chaotic. The phrase "Is not the drum the sovereign of music$12" connects the principle of music with the principle of politics, using music to illustrate governance—a consistent feature of Xunzi’s thought.

Section 2: "Drum Resembles Heaven" ($\text{gǔ sì tiān}$) — Leather Sound and the Dao of Heaven

"Therefore, the drum resembles Heaven" ($\text{gù gǔ sì tiān}$)—The drum's quality resembles that of Heaven. Why$13

What is the quality of Heaven$14 The Yijing, in the commentary on the Qian Trigram ($\text{Qián guà}$), states:

"The movement of Heaven is vigorous ($\text{jiàn}$); the gentleman strives ceaselessly ($\text{zì qiáng bù xī}$)."

Heaven’s quality is "vigorous" ($\text{jiàn}$) —strong, ceaseless movement. Heaven, the sun, and the moon cycle without pause; the four seasons alternate without stopping. The drum’s "grand beauty" ($\text{dà lì}$) matches Heaven’s "vigor" ($\text{jiàn}$): the drum sound is grand and powerful, its rhythm firm and unwavering, governing the whole without slackening.

Furthermore, Heaven covers all myriad things. Heaven is above, Earth below; all things exist between Heaven and Earth. Heaven covers everything without exception. The drum sound also does this—its sound is grand and deep, covering the sounds of other instruments, providing a vast background and framework for the entire musical expression.

Heaven is also the beginning of the myriad things. The Yijing, Qian Trigram, Tuan Zhuan states: "How grand is the Origin of Qian! The myriad things begin with it ($\text{wàn wù zī shǐ}$), and it embraces Heaven." All things originate from Heaven. Music also begins with the drum—the ancients first struck the drum to set the tempo before other instruments joined. The drum sound is the "beginning" ($\text{shǐ}$) of music, just as Heaven is the "beginning" ($\text{shǐ}$) of all things.

On a deeper level, the drum’s resemblance to Heaven is also related to its original cultural significance. In ancient mythology, the drum was closely associated with thunder. Thunder is the sound of Heaven—Heaven is inherently silent, and only thunder is Heaven’s utterance. The drum is a human instrument—humans sought to produce a sound like Heaven’s, and only the drum could approximate it. The Yijing, Zhen Trigram ($\text{Zhèn}$), symbolizes Thunder, and the drum sound resembles thunder. The ancients simulated thunder with the drum to communicate divine will—the drum's original religious function. This will be discussed further in a later chapter.

The Classic of Mountains and Seas ($\text{Shān Hǎi Jīng}$), Classic of the Great Wilderness: East ($\text{Dà Huāng Dōng Jīng}$), records:

"In the Eastern Sea there is Mount Liubo, extending seven thousand li into the sea. On it is a beast shaped like an ox, with a dark body and no horns, possessing one foot. When it enters or leaves the water, there must be wind and rain. Its light is like the sun and moon, its sound like thunder, and its name is Kui. The Yellow Emperor obtained it and made a drum from its hide, using the bones of the thunder beast as the drumstick. Its sound could be heard five hundred li away, used to awe the world."

This myth connects the origin of the drum to the thunderous beast "Kui"—the drum is made from the hide of a thunder beast, making the drum an "tamed thunder." Its sound resembles thunder, thus "aweing the world." The drum’s "grand beauty" ($\text{dà lì}$) is indeed the "grand beauty" of thunder—the thunderous sound possesses supreme awe and brilliance. The drum "resembles Heaven" ($\text{sì tiān}$) at the mythological level because its sound resembles thunder, and thunder is the sound of Heaven.

In the shamanistic traditions of antiquity, the drum was the primary instrument for communication between humans and spirits. Shamans beat the drum to connect with the spiritual light, to expel ghosts, and to summon souls. The Songs of Chu ($\text{Chǔ Cí}$), "Hymns to the Great Unity of the Eastern Emperor" ($\text{Jiǔ Gē: Dōng Huáng Tài Yī}$), states:

"Raise the drumstick and strike the drum ($\text{yáng bāo xī fǔ gǔ}$), slow down the measure and chant serenely, arrange the yú and sè and chant grandly."

"Raise the drumstick and strike the drum" ($\text{yáng bāo xī fǔ gǔ}$)—this is the act of drumming during the sacrifice to the Supreme Emperor of the East. The drum occupies the foremost position in ritual music, serving as the primary instrument for communication between humans and the divine.

Furthermore, the Songs of Chu, "Lament for the Fallen" ($\text{Guó Shāng}$), describes a battle scene:

"Holding Wu spears and clad in rhinoceros armor, chariots interlock axles, close combat ensues. Banners obscure the sun, the enemy is like a cloud, arrows fall densely, warriors contend for the lead. Trampling our ranks, treading over our lines, the left horse is slain, the right is wounded. The axle breaks, the four horses are tethered, drawing the jade drumstick and beating the resounding drum ($\text{jí míng gǔ}$). The timing of Heaven falls, divine power rages, the slaughter ends, and the plain is abandoned."

"Drawing the jade drumstick and beating the resounding drum" ($\text{yuán yù bāo xī jī míng gǔ}$)—In fierce battle, the great drum is beaten. The drum’s function in war is to boost morale and unify action—precisely the manifestation of the drum’s "grand beauty" ($\text{dà lì}$) and its role as the "sovereign of music."

In summary, the primordial meaning of the drum in ancient culture was:

1. An artificial simulation of Heaven’s thunder (Drum resembles Heaven).
2. A shamanistic tool for communicating with spirits (used in sacrifice).
3. An operational command unifying the masses (used in war and politics).

These three meanings fully correspond to Xunzi’s description: "grandly beautiful" ($\text{dà lì}$), "the sovereign of music" ($\text{jūn xié}$), and "resembles Heaven" ($\text{sì tiān}$). Although Xunzi discusses these concepts using rationalized language, the underlying context remains rooted in ancient mythology and shamanism.

Section 3: "Bell Resembles Earth" ($\text{zhōng sì dì}$) — Metal Sound and Kun Virtue

"The bell resembles Earth" ($\text{zhōng sì dì}$)—The quality of the bell resembles that of Earth. Why$15

What is the quality of Earth$16 The Yijing, commentary on the Kun Trigram ($\text{Kūn guà}$), states:

"The way of Earth is yielding ($\text{shùn}$); the gentleman carries the burden of the myriad things with deep virtue ($\text{hòu dé zài wù}$)."

Earth’s quality is "richness/thickness" ($\text{hòu}$)—heavy and capable of supporting all things. The bell’s "comprehensive substantiality" ($\text{tǒng shí}$) matches Earth’s "richness" ($\text{hòu}$): the bell body is heavy and substantial, its sound deep and lingering, possessing the aura of "carrying the burden with deep virtue."

Furthermore, Earth nourishes all things. The Yijing, Kun Trigram, Tuan Zhuan states: "How excellent is the original nature of Kun, by which the myriad things are nourished and brought to life ($\text{wàn wù zī shēng}$)." All things originate from the Earth. The bell sound also has a "nurturing" function in the ensemble—its sound is full and rich, providing a stable pitch standard and harmonic background for other instruments, like the ground providing the basis for growth.

Also, a key quality of Earth is "compliance" ($\text{shùn}$). The virtue of Kun is "complying with and serving Heaven" ($\text{shùn chéng tiān}$) without deviation. The bell, relative to the drum, is like Earth relative to Heaven—the bell’s sound follows the drum’s rhythm, "complying with" ($\text{shùn chéng}$) the drum’s leadership, never striving to lead.

From the material perspective, the bell is made of metal (bronze), which comes from minerals, which are products of the Earth. The Rites of Zhou, Artificers' Record, meticulously details the properties of metal. Metal is mined from the Earth; the bell is cast from metal derived from the Earth, so its sound naturally "resembles Earth." This is not forced analogy but a consequence of material nature.

Another important quality of Earth is "stillness" ($\text{jìng}$). Heaven moves, but Earth is still—Heaven moves constantly (dynamic), while Earth remains unmoved (static). Although the bell vibrates when struck, its long resonance gives it a quality of stability and repose, unlike the strong rhythmic pulsation of the drum (high dynamism), instead permeating space with a full sound, giving a sense of security (high statis). This also aligns with "resembling Earth."

Section 4: "Chime Stone Resembles Water" ($\text{qìng sì shuǐ}$) — Stone Sound and Water Virtue

"The chime stone resembles Water" ($\text{qìng sì shuǐ}$)—The chime stone’s quality resembles that of Water.

This correspondence is particularly striking. The chime stone is made of stone, the hardest of materials; water is the softest and most yielding. How can the sound of a hard stone instrument "resemble" soft water$17

We briefly touched upon this earlier. Here we explore further.

The quality of water is described richly in pre-Qin thought.

Master Laozi states:

"The highest good is like water. Water benefits myriad things and does not contend; it dwells in places that people disdain, thus it is close to the Dao... Because it does not contend, it is blameless." (Laozi, Chapter 8)

"Nothing under Heaven is softer and weaker than water, yet in attacking what is hard and strong, nothing can overcome it, because nothing can replace it. That the weak overcomes the strong, and the soft overcomes the hard, is known by all under Heaven, but none can put it into practice." (Laozi, Chapter 78)

Master Kong also offered profound observations on water. Xunzi, Regarding the Seat of the Cauldrons ($\text{Yòu Zuò}$) records Confucius's words on observing water:

"Water, it benefits all things impartially and without self-interest—it resembles virtue ($\text{dé}$). Where it flows, things live—it resembles benevolence ($\text{rén}$). Its course is low and winding, yet it follows its principles—it resembles righteousness ($\text{yì}$)... Thus the gentleman, when he sees a great body of water, must observe it."

This passage correlates the qualities of water with eleven virtues: virtue, benevolence, righteousness, wisdom, courage, discernment, encompassment, transformation, correctness, measure, and resolve. It is a culmination of the pre-Qin "Water Virtue" theory.

The chime stone’s "resemblance to water" ($\text{sì shuǐ}$) should be understood in several aspects:

First, the clarity of sound ($\text{qīng}$). The chime stone’s sound is crisp like the clarity of water. Water’s most apparent quality is "clarity" ($\text{qīng}$): transparent, seen through to the bottom. The chime stone sound is similar: crisp, clean, pure in timbre, without muddy overtones.

Second, the flow of sound ($\text{liú}$). The chime stone’s sound is clear and flowing, like running water. Water flows following the terrain, separating around stones and reuniting in pools—flexible yet persistent. The chime stone’s sound plays a similar role in the ensemble—its crisp punctuation penetrates the deep sounds of the drum and bell, flowing flexibly, like water moving among stones.

Third, the regulation of sound ($\text{zhì}$). Although water is soft, it possesses "regulation" ($\text{zhì}$): water flows along its proper course, not overflowing its banks; the surface of still water finds its level ($\text{zhì liàng bì píng}$), not being biased. The chime stone’s "purity and regulation" ($\text{lián zhì}$) matches this quality of water—measured and restrained, never overstepping boundaries.

Fourth, the contrast between stone and water. Stone is extremely hard; water is extremely soft. Yet the stone chime stone produces a water-like sound—this is the wonder of the interplay between hard and soft. The hard produces a soft sound, just as the strong follows the gentle way. Master Laozi states "the soft overcomes the hard," and the stone chime stone producing a water-like sound illustrates this principle in practice.

The idea that the chime stone resembles water also has a deeper cosmological significance in pre-Qin thought. The drum resembles Heaven (above), the bell resembles Earth (below), and the chime stone resembles Water—Water flows between Heaven and Earth, moving on the ground and evaporating to the sky, serving as the medium connecting Heaven and Earth. The chime stone's function in the ensemble is similar—its crisp sound punctuates the deep sounds of the drum and bell, acting as a communicator, coordinator, and marker of nodal points, serving as the medium between the "Heaven" (drum) and "Earth" (bell) of the ensemble.

Section 5: "Yu, Sheng, and Xiao are Harmonious; Guan and Yue Resemble Stars, Sun, and Moon" ($\text{yú shēng xiāo hé guǎn yuè fā měng, sì xīng chén rì yuè}$) — Wind Instruments and Celestial Luminaries

"The yú, shēng, and xiāo are harmonious ($\text{hé}$), and the guǎn and yuè emit fierceness ($\text{fā měng}$), resembling the stars, the sun, and the moon"—The harmonious sound of the yú, shēng, and xiāo combined with the fierce sound of the guǎn and yuè collectively resembles the stars, the sun, and the moon.

How is this correspondence understood$18

The stars, sun, and moon are the luminous bodies in the sky—they hang in the firmament, each possessing its own radiance and orbital path. They exist independently yet shine together, forming the magnificent spectacle of the heavens.

The "harmony" ($\text{hé}$) of the yú, shēng, and xiāo resembles the multitude of stars—stars fill the sky, each in its position and with its own brightness, yet they coexist harmoniously, forming a dazzling stellar canopy. The beauty of the stars lies in their multiplicity and harmony ($\text{duō ér hé}$)—countless stars shining simultaneously without conflict—this is the ultimate state of "harmony" ($\text{hé}$).

The "fierce emission" ($\text{fā měng}$) of the guǎn and yuè resembles the light of the sun and moon—the light of the sun and moon is far brighter than that of the stars, radiating intensely and piercing the darkness—this is the quality of "fierce emission" ($\text{fā měng}$). The sun and moon are the most prominent among the stars, just as the sound of the guǎn and yuè stands out clearly amid the harmonious chorus of the shēng and yú, possessing a striking quality.

In summary, the "harmony" ($\text{hé}$) of the yú, shēng, and xiāo plus the "fierce emission" ($\text{fā měng}$) of the guǎn and yuè is like the harmony of the stars plus the radiance of the sun and moon—possessing both collective harmony and individual prominence, thus constituting the complete celestial scene.

This correspondence also implies a deeper meaning: the stars, sun, and moon are all sources of "light," and their essence is "brightness" ($\text{míng}$)—illuminating darkness and making all things visible. The "harmony" ($\text{hé}$) and "fierce emission" ($\text{fā měng}$) of the wind instruments also serve to "illuminate" within the ensemble—their sound is high and clear (compared to the deep resonance of the drum and bell), making them acoustically "brighter," just as the stars and moon are visually "brighter."

The Yijing, commentary on the Li Trigram ($\text{Lí guà}$), states:

"Li ($\text{Lí}$) is adherence ($\text{lì}$). The sun and moon adhere ($\text{lì yú tiān}$) to Heaven; the hundred grains and grasses adhere to the Earth. When accumulated brightness adheres ($\text{lì}$) to what is correct, then the world is transformed."

The "adherence" ($\text{lì}$) of the sun and moon to Heaven—adhering to Heaven and emitting light. The sound of the wind instruments is similar—adhering to the rhythm of the drum and bell (the foundation of Heaven and Earth) and emitting bright sound.

Cosmologically, Heaven (drum), Earth (bell), and Water (chime stone) form the basic framework of the universe; the stars, sun, and moon (wind instruments) are the luminous bodies operating within this framework, adding brilliance and vitality to the cosmos. In the ensemble, the drum, bell, and chime stone form the basic framework of rhythm and pitch, while the wind instruments interject melodies, adding brilliance and vitality to the music.

Section 6: "Táo, Zhù, Fǔ, Gé, Qiāng, Jié Resemble the Myriad Things" ($\text{táo zhù fǔ gé qiāng jié sì wàn wù}$) — Small Instruments and the Myriad Things

"The rattle drum (táo), striking block (zhù), beater (fǔ), drumstick (gé), wooden clapper (qiāng), and notched stick (jié) resemble the myriad things"—Various small percussion and rhythmic instruments resemble the myriad things.

This section introduces several small instruments or rhythmic aids not discussed in the initial description of qualities:

• Rattle Drum ($\text{táo}$): A rattle drum shaken by the handle, causing small spheres to strike the surface.
• Striking Block ($\text{zhù}$): A square wooden trough struck with a mallet, used to mark the beginning of a musical piece.
• Beater ($\text{fǔ}$): A small drum struck by hand.
• Drumstick ($\text{gé}$): A type of percussion instrument.
• Wooden Clapper ($\text{qiāng}$): Refers to the jié or similar wooden percussion tools.
• Notched Stick ($\text{jié}$): A wooden striking implement.

Why do these small instruments "resemble the myriad things" ($\text{sì wàn wù}$)$19

The characteristic of the myriad things is their immense variety, diverse forms, and specific functions. Heaven, Earth, sun, moon, and water constitute the grand framework of the cosmos; the myriad things fill in the details—flowers, insects, fish, birds, beasts, mountains, lakes, sand, and dust—infinite in variety and form.

The role of these small instruments in the ensemble is likewise—they are not the main players (the protagonists are the drum, bell, chime stone, wind instruments, qín, sè, song, and dance) but rather colorful supporting roles and embellishments. They are numerous in kind (wooden, leather, bamboo, etc.), with varied sounds (some crisp, some dull, some sharp), each with a special function (the zhù to start the music, the yǔ to stop it, the fǔ to support the drum's beat). Like the myriad things in relation to Heaven and Earth—Heaven and Earth are the grand framework, and the myriad things fill in the details, making it rich and colorful.

This correspondence reveals an important feature of Xunzi’s theory of acoustic imagery: completeness. Xunzi not only corresponds the main instruments to Heaven, Earth, Water, Sun, Moon, and Stars but also corresponds the secondary small instruments to the "myriad things," creating a complete correspondence between the lineage of musical instruments and the cosmological diagram. The cosmos contains Heaven, Earth, Water, Stars/Sun/Moon, and the Myriad Things—the ensemble contains the drum, bell, chime stone, wind instruments, and small instruments. Everything in the cosmos is mapped within the ensemble. The ensemble is a miniature cosmos.

Section 7: The Instrument Lineage and the Cosmological Diagram: A Holistic Analysis

Reviewing the correspondence established in the previous sections, the system constructed by Master Xunzi can be diagrammed as follows:

This system is constructed with rigorous logic:

First Level: Heaven—Drum. Heaven is the supreme, largest, and unifying entity of the cosmos. The drum is the supreme, largest, and unifying entity among instruments. Both are "sovereigns."

Second Level: Earth—Bell. Earth is the foundation, the bearer of all things. The bell is the foundation, the bearer of pitch. Both are "foundations."

Third Level: Water—Chime Stone. Water flows between Heaven and Earth, acting as a mediator and regulator. The chime stone interjects between the drum and bell, marking critical points—Water mediates between Heaven and Earth; the chime stone mediates between the drum and bell. Both are "intermediaries."

Fourth Level: Stars, Sun, Moon—Wind Instruments. These are the luminous bodies that illuminate the sky. The wind instruments are the bright voices of the ensemble, adding brilliance. Both are "illuminators."

Fifth Level: Myriad Things—Small Instruments. The myriad things fill the spaces between Heaven and Earth, providing richness and diversity. The small instruments fill out the ensemble, providing richness and color. Both are "substance/filling."

Five levels of correspondence, distinct in hierarchy, rigorous in logic. This is not arbitrary comparison but is based on profound "taking of imagery" ($\text{qǔ xiàng}$): by discerning the common characteristics shared between the qualities of the instruments and the qualities of the cosmic elements, an intrinsic link is established. This is a concrete demonstration of the pre-Qin thought of "Correspondence between Heaven and Man" ($\text{tiān rén xiāng yìng}$).

The Yijing, Great Treatise ($\text{Xì Cí}$), Second Part, states:

"The greatest virtue of Heaven and Earth is to give life; the greatest treasure of the Sage is his position ($\text{wèi}$). How is position maintained$20 By benevolence ($\text{rén}$). How are men gathered$21 By wealth ($\text{cái}$). To arrange wealth and correct speech, restraining men from wrongdoing, is righteousness ($\text{yì}$)."

The virtues of Heaven and Earth correspond to the governance of the Sage. Xunzi's "Imagery of Sound and Music" follows the same logic: the composition of the band corresponds to the structure of the cosmos. This shared thinking manifests in different domains.

We must now ask a more fundamental question: Is the correspondence between the instrument lineage and the cosmological diagram "natural" or "a human construction"$22 In other words, do the qualities of the instruments actually share intrinsic commonalities with the qualities of Heaven, Earth, and the myriad things, or is this Master Xunzi’s imposed analogy$23

From the perspective of Xunzi’s thought, the answer is both. On one hand, Xunzi acknowledges that the qualities of instruments have a material basis—the leather sound is deep like Heaven’s vastness; the metal sound is rich like Earth’s substance; the stone sound is crisp like Water’s clarity—this is the "natural" correspondence ($\text{zì rán zhī xiāng tōng}$). On the other hand, systematically constructing this correspondence into a complete system is "human artifice" ($\text{rén wéi}$)—it is the wisdom of the Sages (the former kings) that created this cultural order.

This aligns perfectly with Xunzi’s core concept of "transforming nature and cultivating artifice" ($\text{huà xìng qǐ wěi}$): "Nature" ($\text{xìng}$) is the natural state; "Artifice" ($\text{wěi}$) is the human endeavor. The natural quality of the instrument is its "nature," while organizing it into an orderly ensemble corresponding to the cosmological diagram is "artifice." The greatness of the Sage lies in perceiving the "principle" ($\text{lǐ}$) contained within "nature" (natural qualities) and realizing it through "artifice" (human creation).

Chapter Four: The Intent of Dance: Body, Rhythm, and Group Harmony

Section 1: Unfolding the Inquiry: "How is the Intent of Dance Known$24" ($\text{hé yǐ zhī wǔ zhī yì}$)$25

The third passage in the original text unfolds through a question-and-answer format, leading to a deeper inquiry into the meaning of dance:

"How is the intent of dance known$26" ($\text{hé yǐ zhī wǔ zhī yì}$)$27

This question is highly insightful. Why does Master Xunzi direct this question specifically to "dance" ($\text{wǔ}$) and not to the drum, bell, or chime stone$28

The answer lies in the unique nature of dance. The qualities of instrumental music can be perceived through "hearing"—hearing the drum’s grand beauty, one knows it; hearing the bell’s substantial synthesis, one knows it. The quality of song can also be perceived through hearing—hearing the song’s purity and exhaustion, one knows it. Only dance—its meaning resides not in "sound" but in "movement," perceived not by "hearing" but by "seeing." If the meaning were merely visual beauty, there would be no need to ask "How is the intent of dance known$29"; one could simply state, "The form of the dance is beautiful." Xunzi asks about the "intent" ($\text{yì}$), meaning the deep significance behind the dancer’s movements—that inaudible "intent."

This raises an epistemological question: How can one discern the inaudible "intent" from the visible "form" (the dancer's movements)$30 This question mirrors the Yijing's mode of inquiry—observing the external "imagery" ($\text{xiàng}$) to grasp the internal "principle" ($\text{lǐ}$).

Section 2: "Eyes Do Not See Themselves, Ears Do Not Hear Themselves" ($\text{mù bù zì jiàn, ěr bù zì wén}$) — The State of Self-Transcendence

Xunzi’s answer begins unexpectedly:

"It is said: The eyes do not see themselves, the ears do not hear themselves." ($\text{yuē: mù bù zì jiàn, ěr bù zì wén yě}$).

What does this mean$31 The eyes cannot see their own operation; the ears cannot hear their own reception.

At first glance, this seems irrelevant to dance. However, upon careful consideration, this reveals Xunzi’s profound insight.

"The eyes do not see themselves" ($\text{mù bù zì jiàn}$)—When dancing, the dancer cannot see their own posture. The dancer does not observe their movements from an external perspective. In other words, the dancer’s grasp of their own actions is not achieved through visual self-monitoring but through the body’s internal sense.

"The ears do not hear themselves" ($\text{ěr bù zì wén}$)—While dancing, the ears can hear the music, but "the ears do not hear themselves" should be understood here as the dancer not consciously "listening" to grasp the rhythm. Instead, the body has completely merged with the rhythm, which has been internalized as the body's natural movement, requiring no deliberate auditory control.

This is a supreme state—the transcendence of self-consciousness. In this highest state, the dancer no longer "watches themselves" (no self-scrutiny) and no longer "listens to themselves" (no self-monitoring). They are completely immersed in the dance, and the body moves naturally according to an inner rhythm.

This state deeply resonates with Zhuangzi’s discussion of "forgetting" ($\text{wàng}$). In Zhuangzi: The Way of Authenticity ($\text{Dá Shēng}$), the carpenter Ziqing carves a gǔ (a ritual drum stand):

"When the stand was finished, those who saw it were startled as if by ghosts or spirits. The Marquis of Lu saw it and asked: 'What technique did you use to achieve this$32' He replied: 'I am merely a craftsman, what technique do I have! Nevertheless, there is one thing. When I was about to carve the stand, I fasted for three days so that I did not dare to harbor thoughts of praise, reward, or status. After five days, I dared not harbor thoughts of criticism or praise, of skill or clumsiness. On the seventh day, I forgot that I possessed four limbs and two eyes... Then I went into the forest and observed the nature of the wood... When the form of the wood presented itself to me, I then applied my hand to it. Otherwise, I would have stopped... Thus, when the Dao unites with the Dao, the vessel is able to mystify the spirits. Is this not the case$33'"

"On the seventh day, I forgot that I possessed four limbs and two eyes"—forgetting the physical body. "When the Dao unites with the Dao"—uniting the inherent nature of the self with the inherent nature of the material. This state of "forgetting the body" ($\text{wàng shēn}$) corresponds to Xunzi’s "not seeing oneself, not hearing oneself"—the dancer forgets the self-awareness of the body, forgets the external sound, and allows the body’s natural rhythm to align with the music’s natural rhythm.

However, Xunzi and Zhuangzi differ fundamentally on the path to this state. Zhuangzi’s "forgetting" aims at individual freedom—forgetting all social norms and self-consciousness to return to natural essence ($\text{tiān xìng}$). Xunzi’s "not seeing oneself, not hearing oneself" points toward collective harmony—the dancer forgets the self not to return to nature, but to better obey the collective rhythm ("in order to meet the measures of the bell and drum’s convergence"). This difference reflects the core divergence between Confucianism and Daoism regarding the "body"—Daoism seeks the body’s freedom, while Confucianism uses the body as a means of ritualistic discipline.

Nonetheless, they share a commonality: both point to a higher state beyond the conscious control of the self. In this state, action flows naturally without deliberate calculation—one no longer needs to "think about how to do it." The difference is that Zhuangzi believes this state is reached by "removing artifice and returning to truth" ($\text{qù wěi guī zhēn}$), while Xunzi believes it is reached by "transforming nature and completing artifice" ($\text{huà xìng chéng xí}$) through repeated training, allowing ritual music to become a second nature.

Section 3: Regulating Bending, Rising, Advancing, and Hastening ($\text{zhì fǔ yǎng, qū xìn, jìn tuì, chí sù}$) — The Order of the Body

"Yet, they regulate (govern) the bending and stretching, rising and falling, advancing and retreating, slowing and hastening" ($\text{rán ér zhì fǔ yǎng, qū xìn, jìn tuì, chí sù}$)—Yet, they are able to govern (control, normalize) the actions of rising and falling, bending and stretching, advancing and retreating, and slowing and hastening.

The character "govern" ($\text{zhì}$) is crucial. In pre-Qin usage, $\text{zhì}$ means to rectify, control, or standardize, contrasting with "chaos" ($\text{luàn}$). This governance ($\text{zhì}$) is the human effort to transform chaotic, natural states into orderly, cultural ones. The dancer's "governance" ($\text{zhì}$) of these bodily movements means bringing all possible human movements under the control of prescribed order, transforming the chaotic natural state into an orderly cultural state.

The four pairs of terms—fǔ yǎng (down/up), qū xìn (bend/stretch), jìn tuì (advance/retreat), chí sù (slow/fast)—exhaust the fundamental dimensions of human motion:

• Fǔ Yǎng: Vertical dimension.
• Qū Xìn: Articulation dimension (opening/closing of joints).
• Jìn Tuì: Anterior/Posterior dimension.
• Chí Sù: Temporal dimension (speed).

By covering these four opposing categories, Xunzi logically encompasses all possible bodily movements. The dancer "governs" ($\text{zhì}$) these four pairs—incorporating all potential human motion into an ordered regulation.

We must ask: Why use four pairs of "opposing categories" to describe bodily movement$34 Up vs. Down, Bend vs. Stretch, Retreat vs. Advance, Slow vs. Fast—all are complementary pairs.

This strongly resonates with the pre-Qin concept of Yin and Yang. The Yijing, Great Treatise states:

"One Yin and one Yang is called the Dao."

All things can be described by the dualistic framework of Yin and Yang. Rising is Yang, falling is Yin; stretching is Yang, bending is Yin; advancing is Yang, retreating is Yin; hastening is Yang, slowing is Yin. The dancer’s body constantly alternates between Yin and Yang, just as the Dao of Heaven alternates between Yin and Yang—an unceasing cycle.

The "Dao of Heaven" ($\text{tiān dào}$) mentioned in "Dance combines the intent of the Dao of Heaven" gains a concrete meaning here—the core of the Dao of Heaven is the alternation of Yin and Yang, and the bodily actions of the dancer are likewise an alternation of Yin and Yang. The dancer uses the body’s rising/falling, bending/stretching, advancing/retreating, and slowing/hastening to simulate the ebb and flow of the Dao of Heaven. This is the profound meaning of "combining the intent of the Dao of Heaven" ($\text{yì tiān dào jiān}$)—dance interprets the entirety of the Dao's intention through bodily movement.

Section 4: "None Lacks Clear Regulation" ($\text{mò bù lián zhì}$) — The Ritual of the Body

"None is without clear regulation" ($\text{mò bù lián zhì}$)—All these bodily movements are crisp, distinct, and conform to established measure.

The term "clear regulation" ($\text{lián zhì}$) was used earlier to describe the chime stone. Here, it describes the dancer’s movements. "Pure/Angular" ($\text{lián}$) means clear and distinct, with sharp edges; "Regulated" ($\text{zhì}$) means restraint and adherence to rule. Describing the dancer’s movements with "clear regulation" ($\text{lián zhì}$) implies that every rise, fall, bend, stretch, advance, retreat, slow, or fast movement must be sharp, clean, and precise, without ambiguity, and must be measured, neither excessive nor deficient.

The term "none" ($\text{mò bù}$) emphasizes universality—every action conforms to "clear regulation" ($\text{lián zhì}$). This is an extremely high requirement. Consider dozens of people dancing simultaneously while exerting full physical effort—to have every single movement land exactly on the rhythm of the bell and drum ($\text{yào zhōng gǔ fǔ huì zhī jié}$) requires extraordinary physical control and rhythmic sense!

This "clear regulation" ($\text{lián zhì}$) echoes the quality of the chime stone. The chime stone’s quality is "clear regulation" ($\text{lián zhì}$), derived naturally from its material (stone). The dancer’s movement is also "clear regulation" ($\text{lián zhì}$), but this is not a natural state—human movements in their natural state are chaotic (think of a child’s spontaneous movements). The dancer’s "clear regulation" ($\text{lián zhì}$) is the achievement of postnatal training, the embodiment of "transforming nature and cultivating artifice" ($\text{huà xìng qǐ wěi}$).

This perfectly reflects the essence of Xunzi’s theory of $\text{Lǐ}$ ($\text{Ritual}$):

"Ritual ($\text{Lǐ}$) is that by which the self is rectified ($\text{zhèng shēn}$)." (Xunzi, On Self-Cultivation)

The function of $\text{Lǐ}$ is to "rectify the self"—to standardize bodily conduct. Dance training is the most thorough form of "rectifying the self"—bringing every bodily action under the regulation of $\text{Lǐ}$. The "clear regulation" ($\text{lián zhì}$) achieved by the dancer is the highest realization of $\text{Lǐ}$ on the physical plane.

Furthermore, Xunzi: On Rites ($\text{Lǐ Lùn}$) states:

"Ritual ($\text{Lǐ}$) is the ultimate human way ($\text{rén dào zhī jí}$)."

Ritual is the limit of the human way. Dance, as the art form that embodies "clear regulation" ($\text{lián zhì}$) using the entire body, can be considered the ultimate expression of "Ritual" ($\text{Lǐ}$)—the ultimate realization of $\text{Lǐ}$ in the body.

Section 5: Exhausting Strength to Meet the Bell and Drum's Convergence ($\text{jìn jīn gǔ fǔ huì zhī jié}$) — Unity of Strength and Measure

"Exhausting the strength of sinew and bone ($\text{jìn jīn gǔ zhī lì}$), in order to meet the measures of the bell and drum’s convergence ($\text{yǐ yào zhōng gǔ fǔ huì zhī jié}$)"—This reveals the dancer must exert maximal physical effort while precisely coordinating with the complex rhythms set by the bell and drum.

This sentence hinges on two key terms: "exhausting" ($\text{jìn}$) and "seeking/meeting" ($\text{yào}$).

"Exhausting" ($\text{jìn}$): To use up completely. "Exhausting the strength of sinew and bone" means deploying the full physical power of the entire body. This shows that dance is not a light or casual affair but a solemn activity demanding full commitment of body and spirit. The dancer cannot be lazy, superficial, or hold back—they must "exhaust" ($\text{jìn}$) their strength.

"Seeking/Meeting" ($\text{yào}$): To demand, aspire to, or seek to match. "To meet the measures of the bell and drum’s convergence" ($\text{yǐ yào zhōng gǔ fǔ huì zhī jié}$) means striving to align with the rhythmic points created by the interaction of the bell and drum. "Convergence" ($\text{fǔ huì}$) refers to the downward movements and the intersection of various rhythmic markers. The target is the precise rhythmic moment set by the combined sound of the bell and drum.

This sentence reveals the core requirement of dance: the unification of strength and measure. The dancer must simultaneously achieve two things: "exhaust strength" (full bodily exertion) and "align with the measure" ($\text{hé jié}$) (precise coordination with the music’s rhythm). These two seemingly simple tasks are extremely difficult to achieve simultaneously.

"Exhausting strength" implies maximum intensity in all bodily movements—wide rising and falling, vigorous leaps, rapid turns. To ensure that every movement lands exactly on the bell and drum's rhythm ($\text{yào zhōng gǔ fǔ huì zhī jié}$) during such high-intensity motion requires immense physical control and rhythmic sensitivity.

We must ask: Why must the dancer "exhaust the strength of sinew and bone"$35 Why can't dance be merely light and elegant, requiring little effort$36

The answer lies in the nature of pre-Qin music and dance. The great dances of the pre-Qin period—such as Da Wu ($\text{Dà Wǔ}$, the Grand Martial Dance, accompanying the music celebrating King Wu’s conquest of Shang)—were not delicate court dances but grand, powerful group performances. Dancers held shields and battle-axes ($\text{gān qī}$), enacting combat maneuvers. The Book of Rites: Record of Music describes the steps of Da Wu:

"When the Martial Music is prepared and its beginning is laid out, why is it so$37 ... Moreover, in the Martial Music, in the first section, they move northward; in the second, they extinguish Shang; in the third, they move south; in the fourth, they demarcate the southern states; in the fifth, they divide the territory; in the sixth, Duke Zhou is on the left, Duke Shao on the right, and they converge, honoring the Son of Heaven."

This describes the dance movements mimicking King Wu’s military campaign against Shang—a large-scale dance simulating military action, naturally requiring the "exhaustion of sinew and bone."

Even in the civil dances (like Da Shao), pre-Qin dance required total bodily commitment. The dancer's "exhaustion of sinew and bone" is not just a physical demand but an attitudinal requirement—engaging in dance with utmost sincerity and full effort, daring not to slacken in the least. This embodies the manifestation of "Reverence" ($\text{jìng}$) as stated in the Analects, Xue Er:

"The Master said: 'Be serious in handling affairs and trustworthy in your speech.'" ($\text{Jìng shì ér xìn}$)

The dancer's "exhausting of sinew and bone" is the attitude of "reverence" ($\text{jìng}$) applied to the performance of dance.

Section 6: "And There Is No Contrariness" ($\text{ér mí yǒu bèi nì zhě}$) — No Deviation

"And there is no contrariness" ($\text{ér mí yǒu bèi nì zhě}$)—And there is not a single instance of deviation or disorder.

"Mí" means "no"; "contrary" ($\text{bèi nì}$) means violation or chaos. This sentence emphasizes that in the midst of full physical exertion, not one single movement violates the rhythm of the bell and drum—all actions precisely coordinate with the music, without a single error.

How difficult this is! Imagine dozens, perhaps hundreds, of dancers moving simultaneously with full physical exertion, yet every movement of every person lands exactly on the rhythm of the bell and drum—no one makes a mistake, no movement is misplaced. This requires immense training, coordination, and skill!

This immediately reveals the admiring tone of Master Xunzi. "No contrariness" ($\text{mí yǒu bèi nì zhě}$)—this perfect group coordination is an extraordinary achievement in Xunzi's view. It proves the effectiveness of "the cultivation of rites and music" ($\text{lǐ yuè jiào huà}$): through long-term training, people can move from a chaotic, disorderly natural state to a highly ordered cultural state.

This also contains a subtle political philosophy. "No contrariness" ($\text{mí yǒu bèi nì zhě}$) implies no rebellion—no one violates the rules or acts disorderly. This is the very picture of an ideal political order: in a state governed by a Sage-King, subjects accept their stations and fulfill their duties, "no one rebels or acts contrary." The harmony of music and dance is a miniature reflection of political harmony.

Xunzi: On Music explicitly develops this idea elsewhere:

"When music is performed in the ancestral temple, the ruler and ministers, the high and the low, listen together, and none is not harmonious and respectful. Within the chambers, father and son, older and younger brothers listen together, and none is not harmonious and kind. Among the village elders and clan leaders, the young and old listen together, and none is not harmonious and compliant."

The function of music is to make people "harmonious and respectful" ($\text{hé jìng}$), "harmonious and kind" ($\text{hé qīn}$), and "harmonious and compliant" ($\text{hé shùn}$) in all social relations. The scene of "no contrariness" ($\text{mí yǒu bèi nì zhě}$) in dance is the most direct presentation of this social harmony.

Section 7: "The Multitude Accumulates Intent, Profoundly Harmonious!" ($\text{zhòng jī yì zhōng zhōng hū}$)! — The Ultimate State of Group Harmony

"The multitude accumulates intent, profoundly harmonious!" ($\text{zhòng jī yì zhōng zhōng hū}$)!—This sentence concludes the passage with an exclamation, reaching the climax of the entire section.

"Multitude" ($\text{zhòng}$): The masses of dancers, the entire body of participants.

"Accumulates Intent" ($\text{jī yì}$): The intent accumulated through effort. The character "accumulate" ($\text{jī}$) is extremely important in Xunzi’s thought. Xunzi: Exhortation to Learning ($\text{Quàn Xué}$) states:

"Accumulate soil to make a mountain, and winds and rains arise; accumulate water to make an abyss, and dragons and serpents emerge; accumulate goodness to make virtue, and the spiritual mind is spontaneously attained, and the Sage’s heart is complete."

"Accumulate" ($\text{jī}$) is a process of moving from little to much, from shallow to deep. "The multitude accumulates intent" ($\text{zhòng jī yì}$) refers to the deep and rich consensus achieved by the many dancers through long-term training and repeated accumulation—a synergy that transcends mere words.

"Profoundly Harmonious!" ($\text{zhōng zhōng hū}$): $\text{Zhōng zhōng}$ is an iterative compound word describing a state of harmony that is calm, measured, and unhurried. This couplet evokes a sense of peace, tranquility, and profound well-being.

The entire sentence means: The state of collective intention achieved by the dancers through long-term, accumulated training is so profoundly peaceful and harmonious!

This concluding exclamation pushes the passage to an emotional peak. Xunzi is not merely analyzing the technique of dance but expressing genuine admiration for the aesthetic beauty of group harmony presented in dance. This beauty is not just visual or auditory, but also moral and spiritual—it is a microcosm of the highest cultural achievement possible through "transforming nature and cultivating artifice" ($\text{huà xìng qǐ wěi}$).

The emphasis on "multitude" ($\text{zhòng}$) in "the multitude accumulates intent" ($\text{zhòng jī yì}$) highlights the collective over the individual. Xunzi’s focus is consistently on overall social harmony, not individual freedom or liberation—a sharp contrast to Zhuangzi. Xunzi: The Kingly Way states:

"Why can men form groups ($\text{qún}$)$38 Because they have distinctions ($\text{fēn}$). Why can distinctions be implemented$39 Because they have righteousness ($\text{yì}$)."

The reason people form groups is due to "distinctions" (social divisions and hierarchies); these "distinctions" can be implemented because of "righteousness" (legitimacy and moral constraint). The group harmony in dance is the most vivid manifestation of this ideal social state—the multitude works together in coordination, each having their role and action, ultimately achieving a state of natural, peaceful harmony.

Chapter Five: Ancient Perspectives: Musical Instruments, Mythology, Shamanism, and Sacrifice

Section 1: The Drum and Thunder — Mythological Tracing of Ancient Drums

We have already cited the myth of the Kui drum from the Classic of Mountains and Seas ($\text{Shān Hǎi Jīng}$). This section explores further the original meaning of the drum in ancient mythology and shamanistic traditions.

The connection between the drum and thunder is profoundly ingrained in ancient belief. Thunder is the sound of Heaven—Heaven is inherently silent, and only thunder is Heaven’s utterance. The drum is a human instrument—when humans wished to produce a sound like Heaven’s, only the drum could approximate it.

The Classic of Mountains and Seas, Classic of the Great Wilderness: East, records:

"In the Eastern Sea there is Mount Liubo, extending seven thousand li into the sea. On it is a beast shaped like an ox, with a dark body and no horns, possessing one foot. When it enters or leaves the water, there must be wind and rain. Its light is like the sun and moon, its sound like thunder ($\text{shēng rú léi}$), and its name is Kui. The Yellow Emperor obtained it and made a drum from its hide, using the bones of the thunder beast as the drumstick. Its sound could be heard five hundred li away, used to awe the world ($\text{yǐ wēi tiān xià}$)."

This myth details the structure precisely:

• Kui’s "sound is like thunder" ($\text{shēng rú léi}$)—Kui itself is an incarnation of thunder.
• "Made a drum from its hide"—the drum is a "domesticated thunder."
• "Using the bones of the thunder beast as the drumstick"—strengthening the link between drum and thunder.
• "Sound could be heard five hundred li away"—the drum sound travels far, like thunder.
• "Used to awe the world" ($\text{yǐ wēi tiān xià}$)—the drum’s function is to "awe"—to intimidate and rule.

This myth reveals the drum’s primordial significance: the drum is an artificial simulation of thunder. By creating the drum, humanity "transferred" Heaven’s thunder to the human world, thereby acquiring Heaven’s "awe" ($\text{wēi}$) power—the power of rule and deterrence. The drum’s "grand beauty" ($\text{dà lì}$) is precisely the grandeur and brilliance of thunder. The drum's resemblance to Heaven ($\text{sì tiān}$) has its most fundamental basis here—the drum’s sound resembles thunder, and thunder is the sound of Heaven, thus the drum resembles Heaven.

The Zhen Trigram ($\text{Zhèn}$, ☳) in the Yijing symbolizes Thunder. The Trigram statement says:

"Zhen brings success. When thunder comes, it is startling ($\text{jìng jìng}$); when laughter follows, it is full of joy ($\text{xiào yán yā yā}$). The shock resounds for a hundred li, yet the ritual wine ladle and cup ($\text{bǐ chàng}$) are not spilled."

"The shock resounds for a hundred li" ($\text{zhèn jìng bǎi lǐ}$)—This echoes the Kui drum’s sound heard five hundred li away. The phrase "the ritual wine ladle and cup are not spilled" implies that although thunder (drum) is startling, it occurs within the context of sacrifice—the drum’s function in sacrifice is to shock and awe, aligning with this text.

The Yijing, Great Treatise states:

"Beating the drum with thunder, moistening with wind and rain." ($\text{Gǔ zhī yǐ léi tíng, rùn zhī yǐ fēng yǔ}$)

Here, the verb "to beat" ($\text{gǔ}$) is used, meaning "to agitate with thunder and lightning." The "beating" ($\text{gǔ}$) (vibration, agitation) of thunder and lightning is one with the drum's "beating" (striking, vibration). At the linguistic level, "drum" and "thunder" are already unified.

In ancient shamanistic traditions, the drum was the foremost tool for connecting humans and spirits. Shamans beat the drum to communicate with the divine, to dispel evil spirits, and to summon souls. The Songs of Chu, "Hymns to the Great Unity of the Eastern Emperor" ($\text{Jiǔ Gē: Dōng Huáng Tài Yī}$), states:

"Raise the drumstick and strike the drum ($\text{yáng bāo xī fǔ gǔ}$), slow down the measure and chant serenely, arrange the yú and sè and chant grandly."

"Raising the drumstick and striking the drum" ($\text{yáng bāo xī fǔ gǔ}$) initiates the sacrifice to the Eastern Emperor—the drum leads the ritual music.

Furthermore, the Songs of Chu, "Lament for the Fallen" ($\text{Guó Shāng}$), describes a battle scene:

"Holding Wu spears and clad in rhinoceros armor... Drawing the jade drumstick and beating the resounding drum ($\text{yuán yù bāo xī jī míng gǔ}$)."

The drum’s function in war is to stimulate morale and unify action—precisely the demonstration of the drum’s "grand beauty" ($\text{dà lì}$) and its role as the "sovereign of music."

In conclusion, the primordial significance of the drum in ancient culture was:

1. An artificial simulation of Heaven’s thunder (Drum resembles Heaven).
2. A shamanistic tool for communicating with spirits (used in sacrifice).
3. A command signal unifying the masses (used in war and politics).

These three meanings perfectly align with Xunzi’s discussion of "grand beauty" ($\text{dà lì}$), "sovereign of music" ($\text{jūn xié}$), and "resembles Heaven" ($\text{sì tiān}$). Although Xunzi describes these using rational language, the deep structure is rooted in ancient mythology and shamanism.

Section 2: Bells and Earth Deities — Origins of Metal and Stone in Sacrifice

The bell’s "resemblance to Earth" ($\text{sì dì}$) also has deep roots in ancient culture.

Metal (copper, tin) is mined from underground. The invention of metallurgy was considered a world-altering event in antiquity. Guanzi ($\text{Guǎn Zǐ}$), Measuring Out ($\text{Kuí Dù}$), states:

"The mountain of Gelu erupted, and water followed. Chi You received it and forged it, making swords, armor, spears, and halberds."

The smelting of metals and the forging of weapons were linked in myth to culture heroes like Chi You. Metal extracted from the earth and refined into metal objects—the bell is formed from the essence of the Earth, artificially transformed. The bell is an artifact of Earth’s essence.

The Discourses of the States ($\text{Guó Yǔ}$), in the "Discourse of Zhou, Second Part" ($\text{Zhōu Yǔ Xià}$), records the musician Ling Zhoujiu discussing music:

"Metal and stone move them; silk and bamboo guide them; poetry expresses them; song chants them; gourd preaches them; clay supports them; leather and wood regulate them."

"Metal and stone move them" ($\text{jīn shí yǐ dòng zhī}$)—Metal (bell) and stone (chime stone) serve to "move" (initiate, propel) the music, ranking first among the instruments. The reverence for metal and stone stems from the rarity of their materials and the difficulty of their production—casting bells required advanced metallurgy and vast resources of copper and tin, unaffordable to minor lords. Thus, the bell was a "heavy vessel" ($\text{zhòng qì}$), spoken of alongside the tripod, symbolizing state authority.

The use of bells in sacrifices, especially to Earth deities ($\text{dì qì}$), is well-documented in pre-Qin texts. Rites of Zhou, Office of Music: Grand Master, records:

"Then they played the Yellow Bell ($\text{huáng zhōng}$), chanted the Great Lü ($\text{dà lǚ}$), and danced Yunmen, to sacrifice to the celestial spirits. Then they played the Tai Cu ($\text{tài cù}$), chanted the Answering Bell ($\text{yìng zhōng}$), and danced Xian Chi, to sacrifice to the Earth deities ($\text{jì dì shì}$)."

Sacrificing to the Earth deities ($\text{dì shì}$) involved playing the "Answering Bell" ($\text{yìng zhōng}$), using specific bell tunings. The close association between bell sounds and the rites for Earth spirits provides the cultural background for the bell "resembling Earth" ($\text{sì dì}$).

From the perspective of acoustic quality, the bell's deep and lingering sound possesses the aura of "Earth." Earth’s quality is depth, stability, and permanence. The bell sound is similar. The drum sound is grand but brief; the chime stone is crisp but fleeting. Only the bell is rich and sustained, with a resonance that can last for tens of seconds or more, like the unchanging nature of the Earth.

From a physical standpoint, metal possesses excellent resonance and ductility, making the bell’s sound exceptionally full and rounded. This sense of "fullness" matches Earth’s "deep virtue of carrying burdens" ($\text{hòu dé zài wù}$)—Earth carries all things with its substance; the bell carries the entire sonic spectrum of the ensemble with its substantial sound.

Section 3: Chime Stones and Water — Ancient Origins of Clear Stone Sounds

The chime stone’s "resemblance to water" ($\text{sì shuǐ}$) can be traced back to the Stone Age.

The earliest chime stones were natural slabs of rock—the ancients discovered that certain stone slabs produced clear, pleasing sounds when struck, leading them to fashion these into instruments. The Book of Documents, Yi Ji, records:

"Striking the ringing jade-chime ($\text{míng qiú}$), beating the drum, playing the qín and sè in order to chant."

"Ringing jade-chime" ($\text{míng qiú}$) is an ancient name for the chime stone, referring to a beautiful stone (jade). When struck, it "rings" ($\text{míng}$)—producing a crisp sound. This is one of the earliest records of the chime stone.

Furthermore, the Book of Documents, Yi Ji, states:

"Striking stone against stone ($\text{jī shí fǔ shí}$), the hundred beasts comply and dance."

"Striking stone against stone" ($\text{jī shí fǔ shí}$) refers to striking the stone chime stone, causing the "hundred beasts to dance" ($\text{bǎi shòu shuài wǔ}$). This passage describes an ancient sacrificial scene—using the sound of the stone chime stone to summon spirits (the hundred beasts symbolizing spirits or shamanic transformations) to dance to the sound. The stone chime stone was one of the most primal instruments in ancient sacrifice.

Why is the chime stone associated with water$1

From the perspective of sound quality, the crisp sound of stone indeed resembles the sound of flowing water. Water flowing over stones produces a ding-dong sound, very similar to the chime stone. The ancients perhaps linked the sound of stone with the sound of water.

From the perspective of ancient cosmology, stone (mountain) and water (marsh) were often paired opposites. In the Eight Trigrams, Gen ($\text{Gèn}$) is Mountain (Stone), and Dui ($\text{Duì}$) is Lake (Water). Mountains and lakes are mutually accessible—mountains contain springs, and lakes gather water flowing down from mountains. The chime stone, made of mountain stone, produces the sound of water, aligning with the interaction between Gen and Dui—hardness within softness, and softness within hardness.

The Book of Odes, Hymns of Shang ($\text{Shāng Sòng}$), Nà ($\text{Nà}$), states:

"Oh, how grand! We place the rattle drum ($\text{táo gǔ}$), play the rhythmic drum sounds, pleasing our illustrious ancestors as the descendant of Tang performs the ceremony. May our thoughts be fulfilled! The rattle drum sounds deep and low ($\text{yuān yuān}$), the flute sounds clear and high ($\text{huì huì}$ $\text{guǎn shēng}$). Both harmonious and level ($\text{jì hé qiě píng}$), we lean upon the sound of the chime stone ($\text{yī wǒ qìng shēng}$)."

"We lean upon the sound of the chime stone" ($\text{yī wǒ qìng shēng}$) suggests the chime stone sound acts as the foundation for a state that is "harmonious and level" ($\text{píng}$). This resonates with the chime stone "resembling water"—water’s quality is "levelness" ($\text{zhì liàng bì píng}$), and the chime stone’s sound is also "level" (the foundation for peace).

We must also note that the pre-Qin chime stone was used not only for music but also for marking time and administrative signaling. The Rites of Zhou, Office of Music: Chime Stone Master ($\text{Chūn Guān: Qìng Shī}$), details the duties of the Chime Stone Master. The chime stone’s crisp, clear sound has strong penetration, making it suitable for signaling—"the chime stone is used to mark the conclusion" ($\text{qìng yǐ jié zhǐ}$), meaning its clear sound marks the end of a section or a turning point, fitting the quality of "regulation" ($\text{zhì}$) and water’s tendency to stop ($\text{zhǐ}$) and form pools when it reaches a low point.

Section 4: Sheng, Yu, and Phoenix — Mythological Background of Reed Pipes

The "harmony" ($\text{hé}$) of the shēng, yú, and xiāo is closely associated with the phoenix in ancient mythology.

The structure of the shēng is said to imitate the spread wings of the phoenix. Legends (recorded in the Book of Documents, Transmitted Traditions ($\text{Shàng Shū Dà Zhuàn}$), though a later work, likely preserves pre-Qin tradition) suggest "Nuwa created the shēng and huáng." The arrangement of the shēng's bamboo pipes resembles the varied feathers of the phoenix’s wing; the vibration of its reeds produces a sound like the phoenix’s cry.

The Book of Odes, Minor Odes of the Kingdom, Deer Call ($\text{Lù Míng}$), states:

"The deer call 'you you' as they eat the artemisia. I have worthy guests, I strike the sè and blow the shēng."

"The deer call 'you you' as they eat the artemisia. I have worthy guests whose virtue is clearly known."

The "harmony" ($\text{hé}$) of the shēng sound is paired with the "you you" of the deer call and the "virtuous reputation" ($\text{dé yīn}$) of the guests, creating a harmonious picture of a feast. In poetic contexts, the "harmony" ($\text{hé}$) of the shēng is always linked to concord, friendliness, and joy.

The xiāo (panpipe) also has mythological origins. It is said to be the xiāo used in the legend of Emperor Shun, whose Shao Music ($\text{Sháo Yuè}$) played in nine movements ($\text{jiǔ chéng}$) caused the phoenix to appear in welcome: "The Shao Music performed its nine movements, and the phoenix came to pay its respects." ($\text{xiāo sháo jiǔ chéng, fèng huáng lái yí}$). This legend directly links the xiāo with the phoenix—the phoenix is the embodiment of harmony, and the xiāo's sound is the voice of harmony; they respond to each other.

What was the phoenix’s character in ancient belief$2 The phoenix’s virtue is "harmony" ($\text{hé}$) —its appearance signals peace and harmony throughout the world. The Classic of Mountains and Seas, Classic of the Southern Mountains ($\text{Nán Shān Jīng}$), describes it:

"There is a bird there, shaped like a rooster, with five-colored markings, named the Phoenix ($\text{Fèng Huáng}$). Its head marking is called Virtue, its wing marking Righteousness, its back marking Ritual, its breast marking Benevolence, its abdomen marking Trustworthiness. This bird feeds and sings naturally, dancing by itself. When it appears, the world is peaceful and ordered."

The phoenix embodies the five cardinal virtues, and its "singing and dancing naturally" signals world peace. The "harmony" ($\text{hé}$) of the shēng, yú, and xiāo is the manifestation of the phoenix’s "harmony" ($\text{hé}$) in musical instruments.

This ancient background means that the "harmony" ($\text{hé}$) of the yú, shēng, and xiāo is not just a description of musical aesthetics but also a carrier of the ideal of cosmic harmony—echoing the ancient aspiration for peace under heaven symbolized by the phoenix's arrival.

Section 5: Xun and Chi and Earth — Earth Instruments and Terrestrial Worship

The "expansive and ample" ($\text{wēng bó}$) quality of the xūn and chí is deeply connected to their material composition of fired earth.

The xūn is made of clay, one of the most primitive and simple instruments. Archaeological discoveries date the earliest ceramic xūn back thousands of years to the Neolithic Age. The xūn's material is earth, the essence of the Earth itself. Its sound—low, deep, vast, and archaic—is the sound of the Earth, the echo of antiquity.

The Yijing, Kun Trigram’s virtue is "richness" ($\text{hòu}$)—"Kun is rich and thick in carrying its burden." The xūn's sound, "expansive and ample" ($\text{wēng bó}$), matches Kun’s virtue of "richness" ($\text{hòu}$). The feeling evoked by the xūn is like standing on the vast earth, surrounded by open space, hearing a deep, distant call—it is the voice of the Earth itself.

In ancient shamanistic traditions, earth vessels held a special significance in sacrifice. Earth represents the Earth deity, and sacrificing to the Earth God with an object made of earth is the most direct way of "serving Earth with Earth." The xūn's deep, rich sound is suited for sacrificing to the Earth deity—an instrument made of Earth’s material, emitting Earth’s sound, offered to the Earth spirits.

The Philosopher Lü's Spring and Autumn Annals ($\text{Lǚ Shì Chūn Qiū}$), Ancient Music ($\text{Gǔ Yuè}$), describes the establishment of musical pitch:

"The Yellow Emperor commanded Ling Lun to compose the pitches ($\text{lǜ}$). Ling Lun journeyed west from Da Xia, then to the south of Ruan Yu, where he obtained bamboo from the Gap Valley ($\text{Xiè Gǔ}$). He selected sections of bamboo with appropriate thickness and hollowness, cut two segments about three inches and nine fen long, and blew into them, thus establishing the Palace pitch ($\text{huáng zhōng}$)."

Ling Lun established the pitches using bamboo tubes—bamboo marked the beginning of tube instruments. However, the ceramic xūn likely existed before the standardization of bamboo pitches. The simplicity and primitiveness of the xūn suggest its history might predate bamboo wind instruments. If bamboo instruments represent the refinement of civilization, the xūn represents civilization’s origin—the sound of the Earth, the sound of antiquity.

The "breadth" ($\text{bó}$) in "expansive and ample" ($\text{wēng bó}$) is particularly noteworthy. "Breadth" ($\text{bó}$) means extensive and vast—why is the xūn's sound "ample"$3 Because its timbre is low and deep, lacking high-frequency overtones (unlike metal or string instruments which have rich harmonics), its sound appears "broad"—like a large, undetailed block of color spread out to fill the entire space. This "breadth" is precisely $\text{bó}$—not fine or detailed, but vast and boundless.

Section 6: Qin and Se and Human Relations — The Civilizing Narrative of String Instruments

In ancient culture, the qín and sè were not just instruments but symbols of human relationships.

The pairing of qín and sè in pre-Qin poetry often symbolizes marital harmony. The Book of Odes, Airs of Zhou, Guan Ju ($\text{Guān Jū}$), states:

"The graceful, modest young lady, the qín and sè delight her." ($\text{yǎo tiǎo shū nǚ, qín sè yǒu zhī}$)

"Delight her with qín and sè" ($\text{qín sè yǒu zhī}$) uses the pairing of qín and sè to liken closeness and harmony with a modest lady.

The Book of Odes, Airs of Zheng ($\text{Zhèng Fēng}$), Nǚ Yuē Jī Míng ($\text{Nǚ Yuē Jī Míng}$), states:

"The qín and sè are being played; all is quiet and well." ($\text{qín sè zài yù, mò bù jìng hǎo}$)

"The qín and sè are being played, all is quiet and well" ($\text{qín sè zài yù, mò bù jìng hǎo}$)—the harmonious playing of qín and sè depicts the perfect state of marital bliss.

Furthermore, the Book of Odes, Minor Odes of the Kingdom, Chang Di ($\text{Cháng Dì}$), states:

"Wives and children blend well, like the striking of the sè and qín. When brothers are united, the harmony is deep and profound." ($\text{qī zǐ hǎo hé, rú gǔ sè qín. xiōng dì jì xī, hé lè qiě zhàn}$)

"Wives and children blend well, like the striking of the sè and qín" ($\text{qī zǐ hǎo hé, rú gǔ sè qín}$)—the harmony among wives and children is compared to the harmonious performance of the sè and qín.

Why could the qín and sè symbolize spousal harmony$4

From a qualitative perspective, the qín's "pleasantly feminine" ($\text{fù hǎo}$, gentle and graceful) and the sè's "easily good" ($\text{yì liáng}$, mild and kind) are complementary—one soft, one warm, mutually supporting, like husband and wife—one gentle, one benevolent.

From a performance perspective, the qín and sè are often played together, one player on the qín and another on the sè, their sounds intertwining and responding to each other, like a dialogue between husband and wife—a phrase from one followed by a response from the other.

From a cultural perspective, the making and teaching of the qín and sè carried sacred overtones. Tradition holds that Fuxi created the qín, and Shennong created the sè—both were creations of Sage Kings. The sound of the qín and sè was not merely pleasant but also served to cultivate the self and communicate with the divine.

Xunzi assigns the qín the quality of "pleasantly feminine" ($\text{fù hǎo}$) and the sè the quality of "easily good" ($\text{yì liáng}$). This distinction is telling. If we compare the qín and sè to a married couple: the qín is the "female" ($\text{fù}$), embodying feminine virtue ($\text{fù dé}$); the sè is the "easily good" ($\text{yì liáng}$), implying the masculine quality of peace and openness ("straightforward and open" ($\text{tǎn tǎn duò duò}$) is an aspect of $\text{yì}$).

Why did the ancients distinguish the qín as Yin and the sè as Yang$5

Structurally, the qín has fewer strings (five or seven) and the sè has more (twenty-five or more). Few strings are Yin; many strings are Yang—the qín's fewer strings are Yin; the sè's greater number of strings are Yang. Tonally, the qín's sound is subtle and reserved (Yin); the sè's sound is mild and expansive (Yang). In performance technique, the qín requires subtle fingerwork (Yin), while the sè performance is generally more sweeping and grand (Yang).

This Yin-Yang pairing allows the qín and sè ensemble to achieve perfect "harmony" ($\text{hé}$)—the mutual complementation of Yin and Yang, the balance of hard and soft, movement and stillness—just like the harmony between husband and wife.

Section 7: Song and Dance and Shamanism — Ancient Roots in Ritual Performance

In ancient culture, song and dance were the core components of shamanistic practice ($\text{wū xí huó dòng}$).

The character for shaman, wū ($\text{巫}$), in its Oracle Bone script form shows two crossed tools, symbolizing the shaman’s body communicating between Heaven and Earth. The Shuowen Jiezi defines wū as "the ritual official" ($\text{zhù}$), adding: "The female who can serve the formless, descending the spirits through dance ($\text{yǐ wǔ jiàng shén}$)." This highlights the intrinsic link between wū and wǔ—the shaman descends spirits through dance. "Shaman" ($\text{wū}$) and "Dance" ($\text{wǔ}$) may share a common origin—the shaman uses dance to summon spirits and connect Heaven and Man.

The eleven pieces in the Songs of Chu ($\text{Chǔ Cí}$), "Hymns of the Nine Heavens" ($\text{Jiǔ Gē}$), are all lyrics for shamanistic sacrificial songs and dances. The integration of song and dance is ubiquitous in these texts:

The "Hymns to the Great Unity of the Eastern Emperor" ($\text{Jiǔ Gē: Dōng Huáng Tài Yī}$) describes the sacrifice to the highest deity:

"On an auspicious day and at a fine hour, we joyfully approach the Supreme Ruler. We grasp the long sword with jade pommels, the bells chime sweetly in the dark, the jade mats are adorned with jade rests, and we grasp the fragrant blossoms. The orchid-scented stew steams, the moss mats are spread, we offer cinnamon wine and peppered liquor. Raise the drumstick and strike the drum ($\text{yáng bāo xī fǔ gǔ}$), slow down the measure and chant serenely ($\text{shū huǎn jié xī ān gē}$), arrange the yú and sè and chant grandly ($\text{chén yú sè xī hào chàng}$). The spirits squat gracefully in beautiful robes, their fragrance fills the hall. The five notes mingle and converge, the Lord is joyful and at ease in his peace ($\text{jūn xīn xīn xī lè kāng}$)."

This section describes the ritual: striking the drum (drum’s "grand beauty" ($\text{dà lì}$)), chanting serenely with a slow rhythm (song’s "purity" ($\text{qīng}$)), arranging the yú and sè in grand song (harmony of yú and sè), and the spirits appearing gracefully in beautiful robes—the shaman dancing ($\text{jiāo fú}$), symbolizing the dance’s ultimate intent ($\text{yì tiān dào jiān}$). The entire description corresponds perfectly to Xunzi's system of "Imagery of Sound and Music."

The "Hymns to the Lord of the Clouds" ($\text{Jiǔ Gē: Yún Zhōng Jūn}$) describes summoning the cloud spirit:

"Bathing in orchid water and washing with fragrance, wearing splendid robes like the ying flower. The spirit curls up and remains here, its splendor shining endlessly... I think of my Lord and sigh, my heart laboring in sorrow."

The song and dance are meant to summon the cloud spirit to descend—"The spirit descends gracefully" ($\text{líng huáng huáng xī jì jiàng}$). The function of song and dance is to "bring down the spirit" ($\text{jiàng shén}$)—to cause the divine to descend from the celestial realm to the human world.

This ancient tradition provides the cultural background for "Song is purely exhaustive" ($\text{gē qīng jìn}$) and "Dance combines the intent of the Dao of Heaven" ($\text{wǔ yì tiān dào jiān}$):

Song’s "purity and exhaustion" ($\text{qīng jìn}$): The shaman’s song must be clear and pure to reach the divine ear. If the song were muddy, the spirits would not descend. "Purity" ($\text{qīng}$) is the primary quality required for sound to communicate with the divine. "Exhaustion" ($\text{jìn}$) is the ultimate fulfillment of function—exhausting the sincerity of the human heart to move the spirits.

Dance’s "combining the intent of the Dao of Heaven" ($\text{yì tiān dào jiān}$): The shaman’s dance uses the body to interpret the Dao of Heaven, simulating the operation of Heaven and Earth, and presenting the order of the cosmos. In the dance, the shaman is not "performing" the Dao but "communing with the spirit" ($\text{tōng líng}$)—using the body as a medium to connect Heaven and Man. This is the original meaning of "combining the intent of the Dao of Heaven"—the purpose of dance is to encompass the Dao of Heaven.

From the perspective of ancient shamanism, "The Imagery of Sound and Music" describes not just general musical aesthetics but a complete sacrificial cosmos—the drum sound like Heavenly thunder to communicate with Heaven; the bell sound like Earth to sacrifice to Earth deities; the chime stone sound like flowing water to revere water spirits; the wind instruments resembling stars, sun, and moon to correspond to celestial phenomena; the xūn sound like the Earth’s breath to praise the Earth Mother; the qín and sè symbolizing marital harmony to recount human relations; the pure and exhaustive song to reach the divine ear; and the dance encompassing the Dao of Heaven to connect with the divine. The entire ensemble constitutes a miniature altar, and the entire performance is a miniature sacrifice.

Xunzi, though he rephrased this tradition using rational language, retained traces of this ancient shamanistic ritualistic background. This is not an accidental residue but the foundation of culture—the root of rites and music lies in sacrifice, and the root of sacrifice lies in shamanism, which in turn lies in the communication between Heaven and Man. Xunzi’s "Imagery of Sound and Music" is a rationalized inheritance and sublimation of this foundation.

Section 8: The "Eight Tones" and the "Eight Directions" — Cosmic Correspondence in Instrument Materials

The pre-Qin classification of the "Eight Tones" ($\text{bā yīn}$)—metal, stone, earth, leather, silk, wood, gourd, and bamboo—is not just a categorization of instrument materials but also embodies cosmological significance.

"Eight" ($\text{bā}$) was an important number in pre-Qin culture. The eight directions (East, West, South, North, Southeast, Southwest, Northeast, Northwest), the eight trigrams (Qian, Kun, Zhen, Xun, Kan, Li, Gen, Dui), and the eight tones (metal, stone, earth, leather, silk, wood, gourd, bamboo)—all use "eight" as the framework to encompass the entirety of existence.

The Rites of Zhou, Office of Music: Grand Master, records:

"All are spread forth by the Eight Tones: metal, stone, earth, leather, silk, wood, gourd, and bamboo."

The classification of the eight tones by material—what material an instrument is made of determines which "tone" it belongs to—is based on the philosophical presupposition that material determines character—instruments made of different materials possess different timbres, different qualities, and correspond to different cosmic elements.

Metal (Bell category): Derived from subterranean ores, refined by smelting, hard and heavy, sound is deep and substantial. The virtue of metal is "hardness" ($\text{gāng}$) and "substantiality" ($\text{shí}$).

Stone (Chime Stone category): Natural mineral, shaped without smelting, sound is crisp and sharp. The virtue of stone is "firmness" ($\text{jiān}$) and "clarity" ($\text{qīng}$).

Earth (Xun category): The essence of the soil, molded and fired, sound is low and deep. The virtue of earth is "richness" ($\text{hòu}$) and "primitiveness" ($\text{pǔ}$).

Leather (Drum category): Derived from animal hide, stretched over a frame, struck by a mallet to produce sound, sound is grand and deep. The virtue of leather is "grandness" ($\text{dà}$) and "movement" ($\text{dòng}$).

Silk (Qin/Se category): Derived from silkworms, used as strings on the qín and sè, plucked to produce sound, sound is gentle and beautiful. The virtue of silk is "softness" ($\text{róu}$) and "beauty" ($\text{měi}$).

Wood (Zhù/Yǔ category): From trees, used to make square or tiger-shaped percussion instruments, sound produced by striking. The virtue of wood is "simplicity" ($\text{pǔ}$) and "straightness" ($\text{zhí}$).

Gourd (Sheng/Yu category): The fruit of the gourd, used as the chamber for the shēng, with bamboo reeds inserted, sound produced by blowing. The virtue of gourd is "harmony" ($\text{hé}$) and "roundness" ($\text{yuán}$).

Bamboo (Xiao, Guan, Yue, Chi category): Grows upright with nodes, hollowed out into tubes, sound produced by blowing. The virtue of bamboo is "straightness" ($\text{zhí}$) and "brightness" ($\text{liàng}$).

The eight materials—metal, stone, earth, leather, silk, wood, gourd, bamboo—cover the main material types in the natural world: minerals (metal, stone), soil (earth), animal products (leather, silk), and plant products (wood, gourd, bamboo). Instruments made from these eight materials produce eight different qualities of sound, forming a complete sonic universe.

This is the cosmological foundation of "The Imagery of Sound and Music"—instruments are made from natural materials, and their sonic qualities are determined by the natural qualities of those materials; therefore, the sounds of the instruments naturally correspond to the elements of Heaven and Earth ($\text{tiān dì}$), the myriad things. This is not an arbitrary parallel construction but a natural affinity arising from the inherent connection between things.

Chapter Six: The Confucian Perspective: Music Theory and Governance by Ritual

Section 1: The Intellectual Lineage of Xunzi's Music Theory

Master Xunzi’s On Music did not arise in a vacuum but inherited a profound Confucian tradition.

Master Kong deeply loved music, and his evaluations and discussions of music are scattered throughout the Analects ($\text{Lún Yǔ}$):

"While in Qi, the Master heard the Shao Music, and for three months did not know the taste of meat. He said, 'I did not think that music could reach such heights!'" (Analects, Shū Er)

Confucius, upon hearing the Shao Music in Qi, lost the taste of meat for three months (an expression of deep absorption), remarking, "I never imagined music could reach such a level!" This use of "reach such heights" ($\text{zhì sī}$) echoes Xunzi’s discussion of "combining the intent of the Dao of Heaven" ($\text{yì tiān dào jiān}$)—that the ultimate state of music can encompass the Dao of Heaven.

"The Master said of the Shao: 'It is perfectly beautiful ($\text{jìn měi}$), and moreover perfectly good ($\text{jìn shàn}$). As for the Wu Music, it is perfectly beautiful, but not perfectly good.'" (Analects, Bā Yì)

Master Kong judged the Shao Music as "perfectly beautiful and perfectly good," and the Wu Music as "perfectly beautiful, but not perfectly good." The use of "perfect/exhaustive" ($\text{jìn}$) here resonates with Xunzi’s "song is purely exhaustive" ($\text{qīng jìn}$), meaning completeness or totality. This is the pursuit of the highest state.

"The Master said: 'It is inspired by the Odes ($\text{shī}$), established by Rites ($\text{lǐ}$), and perfected by Music ($\text{yuè}$)'." (Analects, Tài Bó)

"Perfected by Music" ($\text{chéng yú yuè}$)—the final perfection of character is achieved through music. This places music above rites—rites "establish" ($\text{lì}$) norms, while music "perfects" ($\text{chéng}$) character. Xunzi’s On Music systematically expands upon this judgment—explaining how music can "perfect" man.

Furthermore:

"The Master said: 'Do rites ($\text{lǐ}$) merely mean jade and silk$6 Does music ($\text{yuè}$) merely mean bells and drums$7'" (Analects, Yáng Huò)

Confucius pointed out that rites are not merely external forms like jade and silk, and music is not merely external sounds like bells and drums. The essence of rites is reverence ($\text{jīng jīng}$), and the essence of music is harmony ($\text{hé}$). This insight provides the methodological basis for Xunzi’s "Imagery of Sound and Music"—exploring the "imagery" ($\text{xiàng}$) of sound and music means delving into its inner character beyond the external forms of bells and drums.

Another crucial dimension of Confucius’s musical theory relates music to politics. The Analects, in Duke Ling of Wei ($\text{Wèi Líng Gōng}$), records:

"Yan Hui asked about governing. The Master said: 'Follow the calendar of Xia, use the chariots of Yin, wear the caps of Zhou, and for music, use the Shao Dance. Banish the music of Zheng, and keep away flatterers. The music of Zheng is licentious, and flatterers are dangerous. Licentiousness leads to ruin.'"

"Banish the music of Zheng" ($\text{fàng Zhèng shēng}$)—Reject the music of Zheng (considered licentious and decadent). "For music, use the Shao Dance" ($\text{yuè zé Sháo Wǔ}$)—Music must be the Shao Music and Dance. This demonstrates that the choice of music is a major political decision—whether to employ righteous music or decadent music affects the governance of the state.

Xunzi’s On Music inherits and develops Confucius’s theory. Its core arguments can be summarized as:

1. Music is an inevitability of human nature—man cannot be without music.
2. Music has good and evil distinctions—good music cultivates the heart; evil music corrupts the heart.
3. The former kings created the music of Ya and Song to guide man—using good music to guide natural human desires.
4. Music and Rites complement each other—Rites delineate differences ($\text{bié yì}$), while Music unifies ($\text{hé tóng}$).

This forms the basic framework of Confucian musical theory. The passage "The Imagery of Sound and Music" provides a detailed description of the specific qualities that "Good Music" ($\text{shàn yuè}$) or the sounds of Ya and Song ($\text{yǎ sòng zhī shēng}$) should possess—dà lì, tǒng shí, lián zhì... up to yì tiān dào jiān—all represent the characteristics required of "Good Music."

Section 2: "Music Unifies, Rites Delineate Differences" ($\text{yuè hé tóng, lǐ bié yì}$) — The Social Function of Sound and Music

Master Xunzi's most incisive statement on the social function of music appears in Xunzi: On Music:

"Music ($\text{yuè}$) is that which is unchangeably harmonious ($\text{hé tóng}$). Rites ($\text{lǐ}$) are that which is immutably ordered ($\text{lǐ zhī bù kě yì zhě}$). Music unifies ($\text{hé tóng}$); Rites delineate differences ($\text{bié yì}$). The governance of Rites and Music controls the human heart." (Xunzi, Yue Lun)

"Music unifies, Rites delineate differences" ($\text{yuè hé tóng, lǐ bié yì}$)—The function of music is to bring about unity and harmony among people; the function of rites is to establish differentiation and distinction of ranks. They complement each other in governing the human heart.

This insight provides a sociological lens through which to view the "Imagery of Sound and Music." The qualities ascribed to the twelve instruments/activities are not merely aesthetic descriptions but also symbolic representations of social functions:

The drum's "grand beauty" ($\text{dà lì}$) — the sublimity of the ruler. "Is not the drum the sovereign of music$8" ($\text{gǔ qí yuè zhī jūn xié}$)$9 The drum is the sovereign of music, just as the ruler is the sovereign of the state. The drum’s quality is that of the ideal ruler—sublime, brilliant, governing everything while maintaining dignity.

The bell’s "comprehensive substantiality" ($\text{tǒng shí}$) — the solid dependability of ministers. The bell is the foundation of music, like the pillars of the state. The bell’s quality is that of the ideal administrator—unifying factions while possessing inner substance.

The chime stone’s "purity and regulation" ($\text{lián zhì}$) — the clear strictness of the law. The chime stone regulates the music, like laws regulate the state. Its quality is that of ideal law—upright, pure, and measured.

The yú, shēng, and xiāo's "harmony" ($\text{hé}$) — the social harmony among various classes. The multi-pipe coordination mirrors the harmonious coexistence of different social strata.

The guǎn and yuè's "fierce emission" ($\text{fā měng}$) — the vigor of the individual. The singular, strong assertion of the single pipe mirrors individual striving and initiative.

The xūn and chí's "expansive and ample" ($\text{wēng bó}$) — the depth of culture. The deep, broad sound reflects the profound accumulation of cultural heritage.

The sè's "easily good" ($\text{yì liáng}$) — the mildness of the populace. The gentle and kind sound mirrors the simple and benevolent nature of the common people.

The qín's "pleasantly feminine" ($\text{fù hǎo}$) — the refinement of virtue. The subtle and beautiful sound mirrors the gentle and modest virtue of the refined person.

Song's "purity and exhaustion" ($\text{qīng jìn}$) — the uprightness of discourse. The clear and complete sound mirrors sincere and upright speech.

Dance's "combining the intent of the Dao of Heaven" ($\text{yì tiān dào jiān}$) — the peace under Heaven. Encompassing the Dao’s intent, it mirrors the ultimate state of universal concord.

Thus, the "Imagery of Sound and Music" is not just an aesthetic description but a miniature political ideal—every quality corresponds to an aspect of the ideal society. The entire ensemble is a microcosm of the ideal state, possessing a ruler, ministers, officials, populace, clear discourse, and ultimate peace.

Xunzi: On Music explicitly states this correspondence:

"Thus, music is the greatest harmony of the world, the standard of central balance ($\text{zhōng hé}$), and an inevitability of human feeling. Therefore, the Sages created literature ($\text{wén}$) to express it, making its sound sufficient for enjoyment without running to excess, its forms sufficient for distinction without becoming harsh, and its changes in pitch, complexity, clarity, texture, rhythm, and tempo sufficient to move the good heart of man, so that evil and corrupting influences have no way to make contact."

The qualities described in "The Imagery of Sound and Music"—dà lì, tǒng shí, lián zhì, hé, fā měng, etc.—are the concrete manifestations of "changes in pitch, complexity, clarity, texture, rhythm, and tempo" that are "sufficient to move the good heart of man." This is the precise method by which the former kings established music—to cultivate the good tendencies within human nature, ensuring that "evil and corrupting influences have no way to make contact." This is a strategy of "driving out evil with good," rather than merely prohibiting evil music (Mozi’s method), by saturating the heart with the virtues of good music, leaving no room for the qualities of decadent music.

Section 4: The Resonance between Record of Music and Xunzi's Theory

The Book of Rites: Record of Music ($\text{Lǐ Jì: Yuè Jì}$) is a major compilation of pre-Qin musical theory, and its ideas resonate closely with Xunzi’s On Music.

The Record of Music discusses the qualities of sound and music:

"Thus, when earth is depleted, grass and trees do not grow; when water is agitated, fish and tortoises do not grow large; when qi decays, the generation of things ceases; when the world is in disorder, rites become treacherous and music licentious. Therefore, its sound is sorrowful but not stately, joyful but insecure, slow and easy, violating the measures, flowing in excess and forgetting the foundation. If broad, it allows infiltration of villainy; if narrow, it cultivates desire. It is stimulated by the unrestrained qi and extinguishes the virtue of peace. Therefore, the gentleman despises it."

This passage describes the qualities of "music in times of disorder" ($\text{luàn zhī yuè}$): "sorrowful but not stately," "joyful but insecure," "slow and easy, violating the measures," "flowing in excess and forgetting the foundation"—all negative qualities. In stark contrast, the qualities described in Xunzi’s "Imagery of Sound and Music"—dà lì, tǒng shí, lián zhì, hé, fā měng, wēng bó, etc.—are all positive qualities. The two passages, one describing the positive, the other the negative, form a complete contrast: the qualities of good music (described by Xunzi) versus the qualities of evil music (described in the Record of Music), corresponding to order and chaos in the world.

The Record of Music further states:

"Great Music corresponds in harmony with Heaven and Earth; Great Rites correspond in measure with Heaven and Earth."

"Great Music corresponds in harmony with Heaven and Earth" ($\text{dà yuè yǔ tiān dì tóng hé}$)—the highest music shares the same harmony as Heaven and Earth. This maxim is the keynote for Xunzi’s cosmological correspondence—the reason why instruments can be mapped to Heaven, Earth, and the myriad things is precisely because "Great Music corresponds in harmony with Heaven and Earth"—music and the cosmic order share an identical structure of harmony.

Section 5: Musical Instruction and Civilizing the People — The Educational Intent of the Imagery

Xunzi’s assertion regarding the civilizing function of music is explicit:

"Thus, the entry of sound and music into man is deep, and its transformation of man is fast. Therefore, the former kings carefully composed its literature. When music is balanced, the people are harmonious and not dissolute; when music is solemn and stately, the people are orderly and not chaotic. When the people are harmonious and orderly, their armies are strong and their cities secure, and neighboring states dare not encroach upon them." (Xunzi, On Music)

"The entry of sound and music into man is deep, and its transformation of man is fast" ($\text{shēng yuè zhī rù rén yě shēn, qí huà rén yě sù}$)—The depth of music’s penetration into the human heart and the speed at which it changes people surpass other means. This judgment reveals the unique advantage of music education—it does not persuade through rational argument (like verbal instruction) or compel through external force (like legal punishment), but directly inspires emotion to change the heart. When people hear the solemn sound of the drum, they do not need to "understand" its meaning or "judge" its correctness; reverence naturally arises. This is why it "enters deep" ($\text{rù rén yě shēn}$) —it bypasses the rational intermediary and directly accesses the core of emotion.

Furthermore, music possesses a collective power of infection. A verbal teaching can only be one-to-one; the issuance of a law, though public, relies on specific enforcement. Music, however, can affect hundreds or thousands simultaneously. As Xunzi states, "When music is performed in the ancestral temple, the ruler and ministers, the high and the low, listen together, and none is not harmonious and respectful." The key is "listen together" ($\text{tóng tīng zhī}$)—hearing the same music simultaneously, being moved by the same emotion simultaneously. This is the collective power of music, explaining why it "transforms fast" ($\text{huà rén yě sù}$).

Finally, music engages the entire sensory apparatus. Speech primarily engages hearing (requiring comprehension); law primarily engages intellect. Music engages hearing (the sound), sight (the dance), kinesthesia (the unconscious bodily rhythm), and even touch (feeling the vibration of low-frequency drums). Sensory engagement on all levels gives music a power that surpasses means relying on a single sense.

The Record of Music states:

"Music is that which is an unchangeable aspect of feeling ($\text{qíng}$)."

The reason sound and music "feel deep and transform fast" is that they touch the most fundamental aspect of human emotion—that primal core preceding rationality, judgment, and all cultural constructs.

Section 5: "Sound and Music Imagery" and the Thought of "Rectifying Names" ($\text{zhèng míng}$)

Master Xunzi is famous for his doctrine of "Rectifying Names" ($\text{zhèng míng}$), systematically discussed in the chapter On Names ($\text{Zhèng Míng}$). The passage "Imagery of Sound and Music" can be seen as the application of "Rectifying Names" in the field of music.

Xunzi, On Names states:

"Names have no inherent appropriateness; agreement through designation, conformity to custom, is called appropriateness. If it differs from the designation, it is called inappropriateness. Names have no inherent substance; designation with names corresponding to substance, agreement with custom, is called a proper name ($\text{shí míng}$)."

A "name" (language, concept) has no inherent correctness; it is established through social agreement. However, once this agreement is successful, a stable relationship is forged between the "name" and the "substance" (the thing or phenomenon).

The "Imagery of Sound and Music" does precisely this: it establishes a precise "name" (the descriptive quality) for the "substance" (the actual acoustic character) of each type of sound and music—calling the drum "Grandly Beautiful" ($\text{dà lì}$), the bell "Comprehensively Substantial" ($\text{tǒng shí}$), the chime stone "Pure and Regulated" ($\text{lián zhì}$), and so on, naming each quality precisely. This naming process is extremely difficult—how can the essence of a drum sound be fully captured by just two words$10 Yet, Xunzi’s concise terms indeed capture the core characteristic of each instrument's quality. This is the work of "Rectifying Names"—using the most appropriate name to designate the most real substance.

Furthermore, viewed on a deeper level, the "Rectification of Names" in "Imagery of Sound and Music" is prescriptive, not just descriptive. When Xunzi says "The drum is grandly beautiful" ($\text{gǔ dà lì}$), he is not just describing the actual sound quality, but also stipulating the should-be quality—the drum sound ought to be grandly beautiful. If a drum sound is small and crude, it is not a good drum. When Xunzi says "song is purely exhaustive" ($\text{gē qīng jìn}$), he is setting a standard—song ought to be pure and complete; if the song is muddy and incomplete, it is not good song.

This is the deeper intention of Confucian "Rectifying Names"—it is not merely a tool for cognition but also a means of regulation. By establishing the correct name for a thing (the quality-name, like $\text{dà lì}$ or $\text{tǒng shí}$), a standard for that thing is simultaneously established—the standard for a good drum is "grand beauty," the standard for a good bell is "comprehensive substantiality." This is the rectification of names for sound and music, which also constitutes the rectification of standards for sound and music.

Chapter Seven: The Daoist Perspective: Great Music is Rare in Sound ($\text{dà yīn xī shēng}$) and the Music of Heaven ($\text{tiān lài}$)

Section 1: Laozi's Theory of Music: "Great Music is Rare in Sound" ($\text{dà yīn xī shēng}$)

Master Laozi's discussion of music is concise to the point of being unfathomable: Chapter 41 of the Laozi states:

"The greatest square has no corners; the greatest vessel is perfected late; the greatest music is rare in sound ($\text{dà yīn xī shēng}$); the greatest image is without form ($\text{dà xiàng wú xíng}$). The Dao conceals itself and has no name."

"Great music is rare in sound" ($\text{dà yīn xī shēng}$)—the greatest music has few sounds (or almost none). This four-character phrase is the keynote of Daoist musical theory, forming a profound dialogue with Confucian musical theory.

What does "Great music is rare in sound" mean$11

Interpretation 1: The greatest music does not require clamorous sound. True musical beauty lies not in grand or complex sound but in profound and pure meaning. The less sound, the more meaning—this is the principle of "less is more."

Interpretation 2: The greatest music transcends the level of audible sound. The "Great Sound" ($\text{dà yīn}$) surpasses the realm of audible acoustics, reaching the level of the Dao, which is inaudible. Just as the "Great Image" ($\text{dà xiàng}$) transcends visible form.

Interpretation 3: "Great Music" is the operation of the Dao of Heaven. The Dao operates ceaselessly, yet silently—the movement of the sun and moon, the alternation of seasons, the growth of the myriad things—all occur in silence. This silent operation is the "Great Music"—a sound without sound, a music of stillness.

How does Laozi’s "Great Music is rare in sound" enlighten the understanding of Xunzi’s "Imagery of Sound and Music"$12

On the surface, they seem opposed: Xunzi meticulously describes the qualities of twelve musical elements, praising their rich diversity; Laozi states that the greatest sound is almost silent, seemingly negating the value of specific sounds. However, upon deeper reflection, they are subtly complementary.

Xunzi concludes his "Imagery of Sound and Music" with "Dance combines the intent of the Dao of Heaven" ($\text{wǔ yì tiān dào jiān}$)—the intent of dance is to encompass the Dao of Heaven. Laozi’s "Great Music is rare in sound" ($\text{dà yīn xī shēng}$) also points to the Dao of Heaven—the Dao’s "Great Music" is "rare in sound" ($\text{xī shēng}$). The meeting point is the "Dao of Heaven"—Xunzi approaches the Dao of Heaven through a rich spectrum of sounds (using sound to express the Dao’s meaning), while Laozi points out that the Dao itself is "rare in sound" (transcending the level of sound).

This difference can be understood as: Xunzi’s sound and music is "pursuing the inaudible with the audible"—constantly striving toward the inaudible Dao of Heaven through the means of instrumental music, song, and dance. The ultimate state of music (dance encompassing the Dao of Heaven) lies not in the beauty of the sound itself, but in the meaning of the Dao to which the sound points. From this perspective, Xunzi’s conclusion is Laozi’s starting point—"Great Music is rare in sound" is the transcendence achieved after the cultivation of musical expression reaches its zenith.

Chapter 2 of Laozi states:

"When all under heaven know beauty as beauty, ugliness already exists. When all know good as good, evil already exists. Thus being and non-being produce each other; difficult and easy complete each other; long and short contrast each other; high and low lean on each other; sound and voice harmonize ($\text{yīn shēng xiāng hé}$); front and back follow each other."

"Sound and voice harmonize" ($\text{yīn shēng xiāng hé}$)—Yīn (tone/pitch) and Shēng (sound/resonance) harmonize. Here, Laozi acknowledges the reality of "harmonious sound and voice" and places it within a series of dialectical oppositions (being/non-being, difficult/easy, long/short, high/low, front/back). This suggests Laozi does not entirely reject music but points out that the beauty of music lies in the mutual dependence of these opposing elements—high notes exist because of low notes; speed exists because of slowness; loudness exists because of quietness.

The opposing categories in Xunzi’s "Imagery of Sound and Music"—the "grandness" ($\text{dà}$) of the drum versus the "feminine pleasantness" ($\text{fù hǎo}$) of the qín (large vs. small), the "fierce emission" ($\text{fā měng}$) of the guǎn versus the "expansive ampleness" ($\text{wēng bó}$) of the xūn, the "purity" ($\text{qīng}$) of song versus the "substantiality" ($\text{shí}$) of the bell (pure vs. substantial)—are concrete manifestations of this "harmonious sound and voice" ($\text{yīn shēng xiāng hé}$). Laozi’s "Great Music is rare in sound" and Xunzi’s "Imagery of Sound and Music," approached from different angles, point to the same truth: the beauty of sound and music lies in the harmony of opposites.

Section 2: Zhuangzi's "Three Sounds": Terrestrial Sound, Human Sound, and Heavenly Sound

Master Zhuangzi’s discussion of music is most brilliantly articulated in the "Discussion on Making Things Equal" ($\text{Qí Wù Lùn}$), through the concept of the "Three Sounds" ($\text{sān lài}$):

"Zi You asked the Lord of the Frontier Gate ($\text{Zǐ Qí}$): 'The terrestrial sound ($\text{dì lài}$) is the myriad orifices of nature. The human sound ($\text{rén lài}$) is the bamboo pipes. Dare I ask about the Heavenly Sound ($\text{tiān lài}$)$13' The Lord of the Frontier Gate replied: 'The wind blows through ten thousand different things, each making its own sound. They all take what is their own; who is angry$14'"

This dialogue structures itself as follows:

• Human Sound ($\text{rén lài}$): The sound produced by humans blowing through bamboo pipes. This is human-made music.
• Terrestrial Sound ($\text{dì lài}$): The sound produced when wind blows through the "myriad orifices" (holes) of the Earth. This is natural acoustic sound.
• Heavenly Sound ($\text{tiān lài}$): "The wind blows through ten thousand different things, each making its own sound. They all take what is their own; who is angry$15" Heavenly Sound is not a specific sound but the fundamental force ("Dao") that causes all things to sound naturally, each according to its nature.

From the perspective of Zhuangzi’s "Three Sounds," Xunzi’s "Imagery of Sound and Music" can be understood as: using "Human Sound" ($\text{rén lài}$) to emulate "Terrestrial Sound" ($\text{dì lài}$) and strive toward "Heavenly Sound" ($\text{tiān lài}$). The drum resembling Heavenly Thunder is using human music to imitate the thunder in the terrestrial soundscape. The bell resembling Earth is using human music to imitate the sound of the Earth. Ultimately, "Dance combines the intent of the Dao of Heaven" ($\text{wǔ yì tiān dào jiān}$) is an attempt to approach the ultimate state of "Heavenly Sound" ($\text{tiān lài}$).

However, Zhuangzi might reserve judgment on Xunzi’s endeavor. The essence of Zhuangzi’s point is that the best "music" is not achievable through human effort—"They all take what is their own" ($\text{xián qí zì qǔ}$), things sound naturally without artificial arrangement. The best music is not the sound produced by man-made instruments but the Heavenly Sound ($\text{tiān lài}$).

This divergence reveals the fundamental difference between Confucian and Daoist approaches to "artifice" ($\text{wěi}$):

Confucianism (Xunzi): Artifice ($\text{wěi}$) is good—"transforming nature and cultivating artifice" ($\text{huà xìng qǐ wěi}$). The "Imagery of Sound and Music" is a cultural order consciously constructed by the Sages based on their perception of natural qualities.

Daoism (Zhuangzi): Artifice is superfluous—"they all take what is their own" ($\text{xián qí zì qǔ}$). The best "music" is not man-made but the natural sound produced by all things, the Heavenly Sound.

This tension highlights the deepest philosophical question in pre-Qin musical discourse: Is man-made music a natural development of nature, or is it a distortion of nature$16

Section 3: The Daoist Narrative of the Music of Huangdi: "Xian Chi" and "Cheng Yun"

Zhuangzi is not entirely dismissive of music. In Zhuangzi: The Way of Heaven ($\text{Tiān Yùn}$), Zhuangzi narrates a dialogue between Beimen Cheng and the Yellow Emperor ($\text{Huáng Dì}$) detailing the supreme music, the "Xian Chi" ($\text{Xián Chí}$):

"Beimen Cheng asked the Yellow Emperor: 'The Emperor performed the music of Xian Chi on the plains of Dongting. When I first heard it, I was terrified; when I heard it again, I grew listless; when I finally heard it to the end, I was bewildered. It was vast and silent, and I lost my self-possession.'"

This description of the "Xian Chi Music" exhibits features that align with Xunzi’s framework but push beyond it:

1. "First heard, I was terrified" ($\text{shǐ wén zhī jù}$)—Terrified upon first hearing. This resonates with the drum’s "grand beauty" ($\text{dà lì}$, sublimity and awe). The sublime is inherently fearsome.
2. "Heard again, I grew listless" ($\text{fù wén zhī dài}$)—Grew weary upon repeated hearing. This resonates with the xūn and chí's "expansive and ample" ($\text{wēng bó}$) nature, which can lead to a state of relaxation.
3. "Finally heard to the end, I was bewildered" ($\text{zú wén zhī huò}$)—Bewildered at the conclusion. This transcends the categories described by Xunzi—bewilderment implies entering a realm beyond rational comprehension, the unknowable.
4. "Vast and silent, and I lost my self-possession" ($\text{dàng dàng mò mò, nǎi bù zì dé}$)—This is the state of Laozi’s "Great Music is rare in sound" ($\text{dà yīn xī shēng}$)—the supreme music causes one to lose self-awareness and merge with the Dao.
5. "I alarmed them with thunder and lightning" ($\text{wǒ jīng zhī yǐ léi tíng}$)—This directly echoes the drum’s resemblance to Heaven's thunder.
6. "It had no tail at the end, and no head at the beginning" ($\text{qí zú wú wěi, qí shǐ wú shǒu}$)—Without ending or beginning. This transcends the structure of ordinary music—endless and beginningless, like the operation of the Dao of Heaven. This corresponds to Xunzi’s discussion of "rising/falling, bending/stretching, advancing/retreating, slowing/hastening"—all dialectical alternations that never cease.

The "Xian Chi Music" described by Zhuangzi can be seen as a Daoist response to Xunzi’s "Imagery of Sound and Music"—both describe a supreme music, but from different angles. Xunzi starts from the qualities of instruments and builds an ordered system; Zhuangzi starts from the listener's transcendental experience, describing a state beyond comprehension. Both point toward the Dao—Xunzi uses an array of ordered sounds to express the Dao’s meaning, while Zhuangzi suggests the Dao itself is the silent source.

Section 4: Deep Dialogue Between Daoist and Confucian Music Theories

Comparing the Daoist and Confucian approaches to music reveals subtle complementarity rather than mere opposition:

In Purpose: Confucian music aims at "cultivating the people" ($\text{huà mín}$)—using sound and music to educate the masses toward social harmony. Daoist music aims at "returning to the Dao" ($\text{guī dào}$)—using music (or transcending music) to guide the individual back to the Great Dao. One is socially oriented, the other individually oriented.

In Method: Confucian music relies on "creation" ($\text{zhì zuò}$)—the former kings created the Ya and Song sounds, manufactured instruments, and trained dance. Daoist music relies on "nature" ($\text{zì rán}$)—letting things sound naturally, without artificial intervention.

In Attainment: The highest state of Confucian music is "dance combining the intent of the Dao of Heaven" ($\text{wǔ yì tiān dào jiān}$)—using human dance to express the entirety of the Dao’s meaning. The highest state of Daoist music is "Great Music is rare in sound" ($\text{dà yīn xī shēng}$)—transcending all human sound to reach the Dao’s stillness.

In Attitude toward "Imagery" ($\text{xiàng}$): Confucianism values "imagery" ($\text{xiàng}$)—"The Imagery of Sound and Music" uses precise language to describe sonic qualities. Daoism transcends "imagery" ($\text{xiàng}$)—"The Great Image is without form" ($\text{dà xiàng wú xíng}$), the greatest image transcends all describable forms.

Yet, there is a deep commonality:

First, both point to the "Dao of Heaven" as the ultimate reference point. Xunzi’s "dance combining the intent of the Dao of Heaven" and Laozi’s "Great Music is rare in sound" both converge on the Dao.

Second, both acknowledge the intrinsic connection between sound/music and nature. Xunzi maps instrument qualities to the structure of Heaven and Earth; Zhuangzi explains natural sounds through "Terrestrial Sound" ($\text{dì lài}$) and "Heavenly Sound" ($\text{tiān lài}$)—both confirm an intrinsic link between sound and the natural world.

Third, both value "Harmony" ($\text{hé}$). Xunzi’s "harmony" ($\text{hé}$) of the yú, shēng, and xiāo and the overall coordination of the ensemble mirrors Zhuangzi’s "equality of things" ($\text{qí wù}$), where all things are one horse—a state of ultimate harmony.

The richness of pre-Qin thought lies in this kind of "being harmonious but not identical" ($\text{hé ér bù tóng}$): Confucianism and Daoism approach the same goals—harmony in the universe and harmony in human affairs—through different paths, one through "creation" and the other through "naturalness." Xunzi’s "Imagery of Sound and Music," as the pinnacle of Confucian musical theory, gains deeper layers of meaning when reflected against the backdrop of Daoist thought.

Chapter Eight: The Cosmology of Acoustic Imagery: The Acoustic Dimension of Pre-Qin Cosmology

Section 1: The Basic Framework of Pre-Qin Cosmology

The basic framework of pre-Qin cosmology can be summarized in the following aspects:

Heaven and Earth Theory ($\text{Tiān Dì Lùn}$): The fundamental structure of the cosmos is Heaven and Earth. Heaven is above, Earth is below; all things exist between them. Heaven’s qualities are vigor, movement, hardness, and brightness; Earth’s qualities are compliance, stillness, softness, and darkness. The circulation of Yin and Yang between Heaven and Earth produces the four seasons and the myriad things.

The Yijing, Great Treatise ($\text{Xì Cí}$), First Part, states:

"Heaven is esteemed and Earth is lowly, thus Qian and Kun are established. Lowliness and height delineate what is distinguished; what is noble and what is base is thereby determined. Movement and stillness have a constant pattern; hardness and softness are thereby distinguished. Things gather by similarity, and kinds separate by their distinctions, thus fortune and misfortune arise. When established in Heaven, they become imagery ($\text{xiàng}$); when formed on Earth, they become form ($\text{xíng}$); the transformations are thereby revealed."

This passage is the general outline of pre-Qin cosmology. Heaven esteemed, Earth lowly—the basic order of the cosmos. Movement and stillness have a constant pattern—the basic operation of the cosmos. Imagery in Heaven, Form on Earth—the basic mode of cosmic presentation.

Yin-Yang Theory: All things can be described by the duality of Yin and Yang. Yang is Heaven, brightness, movement, hardness, heat, above, outer, masculine... Yin is Earth, darkness, stillness, softness, cold, below, inner, feminine... Yin and Yang are not two separate entities but a pair of descriptive categories for the qualities of things.

"One Yin and one Yang is called the Dao." (Yijing, Great Treatise)

The alternation of Yin and Yang is the "Dao."

Five Phases Theory ($\text{Wǔ Xíng Lùn}$): The operation of the myriad things can be described by five elements (or five forces): Wood, Fire, Earth, Metal, and Water. These five phases have generative and overcoming relationships: Wood generates Fire, Fire generates Earth, Earth generates Metal, Metal generates Water, Water generates Wood; Wood overcomes Earth, Earth overcomes Water, Water overcomes Fire, Fire overcomes Metal, Metal overcomes Wood. The Five Phases correspond to the four seasons, the five directions, the five colors, the five tastes, and the five notes, forming a vast corresponding system.

Qi Theory: The essence of all things is qi (vital energy). The condensation of qi forms tangible things; the dissipation of qi forms the formless. Qi is differentiated into clear and turbid—the clear qi rises to form Heaven; the turbid qi sinks to form Earth.

"Essence ($\text{jīng}$) is the essence of qi. When the Dao of qi arises, it generates the five grains below and forms the array of stars above." (Guanzi, Nei Ye)

Xunzi’s system of corresponding instruments to the cosmos—the "Imagery of Sound and Music"—is constructed within this cosmological framework.

Section 2: Correspondence Logic: Instruments, Heaven and Earth, Myriad Things

Master Xunzi corresponds musical instruments to Heaven, Earth, and the myriad things through several layers of logic:

Material Correspondence: The materials of musical instruments originate in nature, establishing a natural link with natural elements. Leather comes from animals, which live between Heaven and Earth—the drum made of leather produces a sound like Heaven’s thunder. Metal comes from underground ore—the bell cast of metal produces a sound like Earth’s substance. Stone is a natural mineral, and water flows over stone—the chime stone is made of stone, its sound like the clarity of water. Bamboo, wood, and gourd grow on Earth—wind instruments made of these materials produce sounds like the brightness of the stars, sun, and moon.

Qualitative Correspondence: The sonic quality of the instrument corresponds to the quality of the natural element. Grand and beautiful ($\text{dà lì}$) — the quality of Heaven; Comprehensive and substantial ($\text{tǒng shí}$) — the quality of Earth; Pure and regulated ($\text{lián zhì}$) — the quality of Water. This correspondence is not arbitrary comparison but based on shared characteristics.

Functional Correspondence: The role of an instrument in the ensemble mirrors the function of a cosmic element in the universe. The drum governs the whole—like Heaven covering all things; the bell bears the foundation—like Earth supporting all things; the chime stone marks turning points—like Water mediating between Heaven and Earth.

Numerical Correspondence: The main cosmic elements are the Three Powers (Heaven, Earth, Water), plus the fine details of the stars/sun/moon (Heaven’s details) and the myriad things (Earth’s details). The main instruments are the Drum, Bell, and Chime Stone (the three primary sound sources), plus the melodic wind instruments (wind instruments) and the small instruments (auxiliary instruments). The structure of the two sets is analogous.

The philosophical presupposition behind this system is: The structure of the cosmos and the structure of human affairs are isomorphic. Or more precisely: human affairs (including sound and music) are a microcosm of the cosmos. Man, existing between Heaven and Earth, inevitably reflects the cosmic structure in all his creative activities. Sound and music, as one of humanity’s most significant creative activities, naturally map the order of Heaven, Earth, and the myriad things.

The Yijing, Great Treatise, Second Part, states:

"In antiquity, when the Lord of the Five Classics ($\text{Bāo Xī}$ Fuxi) reigned over the world, he looked upward to observe the imagery ($\text{xiàng}$) in Heaven, and looked downward to observe the models ($\text{fǎ}$) on Earth. He observed the patterns of birds and beasts and the suitability of the Earth. He took lessons from his own person and drew far from external things. Thus he first established the Eight Trigrams, to communicate the virtue of the spiritual light ($\text{shén míng zhī dé}$) and to correspond to the feelings ($\text{qíng}$) of the myriad things."

The method of Fuxi—"looking upward," "looking downward," "taking lessons from oneself," and "drawing from external things"—is precisely the method Xunzi uses to construct the correspondence between instruments and the cosmos. The Sage observes the qualities of Heaven and Earth (upward gaze at Heaven’s grandeur, downward gaze at Earth’s substance), takes lessons from the human body (song’s purity, dance’s encompassing Dao), and draws from external things (Water’s regulation, stars’ fierceness), and then establishes the system of sound and music—this is the application of "communicating the virtue of the spiritual light and corresponding to the feelings of the myriad things" in the realm of music.

Section 3: Five Notes, Twelve Pitches, and Yin and Yang

Although Xunzi’s "Imagery of Sound and Music" does not directly address the Five Notes ($\text{wǔ shēng}$—palace, horn, angle, beam, wing) or the Twelve Pitches ($\text{shí èr lǜ}$—Huang Zhong, Da Lü, Tai Cu, etc.), these concepts hold immense importance in pre-Qin cosmology and must be discussed.

The correspondence between the Five Notes and the Five Phases, Five Directions, Five Colors, and Five Tastes is recorded in various pre-Qin texts. Guanzi, Five Phases ($\text{Wǔ Xíng}$), states:

"Palace note moves the Spleen, Horn note moves the Lungs, Angle note moves the Liver, Beam note moves the Heart, Wing note moves the Kidneys."

The Five Notes correspond to the five viscera of the human body. Lüshi Chunqiu ($\text{Lǚ Shì Chūn Qiū}$), Twelve Records ($\text{Shí Èr Jì}$), links the Five Notes to the Four Seasons: Palace is the central note, Horn is the spring note, Beam is the summer note, Horn is the autumn note, Wing is the winter note.

This correspondence system runs parallel to Xunzi’s mapping of instruments to the cosmos. Xunzi’s correspondence is at the level of instrument material and quality corresponding to the elements of Heaven and Earth. The Five Notes/Twelve Pitches correspondence is at the level of pitch height corresponding to Yin-Yang, the Five Phases, and the twelve months. Both systems construct a comprehensive linkage between sound and the structure and operation of the universe.

The correspondence between the Twelve Pitches and the Twelve Months is particularly precise. Lüshi Chunqiu aligns each of the twelve pitches with one of the twelve months:

"First month of Spring... its note is Horn, the pitch is Tai Cu."

The twelve pitches correspond to the twelve months, forming a complete temporal-pitch system. Each month has a specific pitch played to correspond to the qi of that month. The presupposition behind this system is that pitch height and time share an isomorphic structure—the cycle of the year is mirrored by the cycle of the pitches.

Taken together, the pre-Qin correspondence between sound/music and the cosmos operates on at least three levels:

1. Instrumental Level: Xunzi’s "Imagery of Sound and Music," mapping instrument materials and qualities to Heaven, Earth, and the myriad things.
2. Pitch Level: The Five Notes and Twelve Pitches, mapping pitch height to Yin-Yang, the Five Phases, and the twelve months.
3. Rhythmic Level: The tempo of the music (fast/slow, strong/weak, start/stop) corresponding to the operation of Heaven and Earth (day/night, waxing/waning, birth/death).

These three levels combine to form a complete "Acoustic Cosmology"—sound and music comprehensively map the structure and operation of the cosmos. This is the concrete meaning of "Great Music corresponds in harmony with Heaven and Earth" ($\text{dà yuè yǔ tiān dì tóng hé}$).

Section 4: Music as "Harmony" ($\text{hé}$) — A Cosmology of Concord

"Harmony" ($\text{hé}$) is the core concept shared by both cosmological theory and music theory in the pre-Qin period.

The character "harmony" ($\text{hé}$) has multiple meanings in pre-Qin texts, but its core meaning is: a harmonious state achieved when different elements cooperate and coordinate. This meaning was thoroughly established by Scholar Shi Bo’s statement ("to equalize the different is called harmony") and Yanzi’s discourse (clarity/turbidity, large/small, etc., "complement each other").

In cosmology, "harmony" ($\text{hé}$) is the fundamental principle that allows Heaven, Earth, and all things to exist and function. Heaven and Earth—the supreme and the base—are "in harmony" ($\text{xiāng hé}$), and thus the myriad things are born. Yin and Yang—the softest and the hardest—are "in harmony" ($\text{xiāng hé}$), and thus the four seasons proceed. Water and Fire—the coldest and the hottest—are "in harmony" ($\text{xiāng hé}$), and thus life is transformed.

The Yijing, Qian Trigram, Tuan Zhuan states:

"The transformation of the Qian Dao creates the correct nature and destiny of each thing, preserving and uniting in Great Harmony ($\text{bǎo hé tài hé}$), thus benefiting and remaining correct. It brings forth the myriad things, and all nations are at peace."

"Preserving and uniting in Great Harmony" ($\text{bǎo hé tài hé}$) is the highest state of cosmic harmony—where Heaven and Earth, the myriad things, each find their proper place, fulfill their nature, and cooperate to form a coherent, harmonious whole.

In music theory, "harmony" ($\text{hé}$) is likewise the core principle. The twelve qualities described in "The Imagery of Sound and Music"—grand beauty, substantiality, regulation, harmony, fierceness, ampleness, goodness, femininity, purity, and comprehensive intent—form a system of "harmony" ($\text{hé}$). They represent the harmony of hard and soft, large and small, clear and turbid, fierce and ample, external and internal, part and whole. The coordination of these twelve different qualities constitutes a complete and rich musical picture.

This "harmony" in music extends beyond the interplay of different instruments to the harmony between sound and Heaven and Earth—"Great Music corresponds in harmony with Heaven and Earth." When the instruments in an ensemble achieve perfect coordination, this coordination itself is a microcosm of cosmic harmony—because the inherent qualities of the instruments correspond to the inherent qualities of Heaven, Earth, and the myriad things, the harmony achieved in the music is a human mapping of the harmony existing in the universe.

This is the ultimate implication of "The Imagery of Sound and Music": sound and music are not merely human artistic creations but the audible manifestation of cosmic harmony. Through sound and music, man participates in cosmic harmony—as a listener, a participant, and ultimately, a creator.

Chapter Nine: Music and the Body: The Deeper Philosophy of Dance Theory

Section 1: The Body as the Medium of Rites and Music

In pre-Qin thought, the body is not merely a physical entity but also the medium for Rites and Music ($\text{Lǐ Yuè}$), the vessel for morality, and the bridge connecting Heaven and Man.

The Book of Rites: Record of Music ($\text{Lǐ Jì: Yuè Jì}$) states:

"By achieving music to govern the heart, the easy, upright, straightforward, and sincere heart is made to arise spontaneously. When the easy, upright, straightforward, and sincere heart arises, there is joy. Joy leads to tranquility, tranquility leads to longevity, longevity leads to alignment with Heaven, and alignment with Heaven leads to the spiritual. The spiritual speaks without words yet inspires trust, and wields awe without anger. This is the governance of the heart through music."

"Governing the heart through music" ($\text{zhì yuè yǐ zhì xīn}$) must be achieved through the body—the sounds of music enter the heart through the ears, and the rhythm of music is internalized through bodily movement (dance) as the order of the heart. The body is the conduit through which music enters the heart.

Xunzi’s theory of dance places the body at the core of ritual and musical education. "Regulating bending and stretching, rising and falling, advancing and retreating, slowing and hastening" ($\text{zhì fǔ yǎng, qū xìn, jìn tuì, chí sù}$) are the concrete implementation of Rites and Music on the physical plane. The dancer's body is not a free body but one regulated by Rites and Music—every movement has a prescribed manner, prescribed rhythm, and prescribed force.

However, this regulation is not oppression. Xunzi emphasizes: "The eyes do not see themselves, the ears do not hear themselves"—in the highest state, the dancer does not consciously control the body; the body moves correctly on its own, naturally. This means the regulation of Rites and Music has become the body’s "second nature"—not external coercion but internal spontaneity.

This is the manifestation of "transforming nature and cultivating artifice" ($\text{huà xìng qǐ wěi}$) on the physical level. The natural body ("nature," $\text{xìng}$) is chaotic—flailing hands and feet without structure. Through the training of Rites and Music ("artifice," $\text{wěi}$), the body gradually becomes orderly—rising and falling are measured, bending and stretching are regulated, advancing and retreating are methodical, speed is controlled. When this training reaches its zenith, orderly bodily movements flow out naturally without conscious control—this is the completion of "transforming nature" ($\text{huà xìng}$).

Section 2: "Not Seeing Oneself," "Not Hearing Oneself," and Self-Cultivation

The state of "not seeing oneself, not hearing oneself" ($\text{bù zì jiàn, bù zì wén}$) has deep significance within the Confucian tradition of self-cultivation.

The Analects records Confucius’s saying:

"If in the morning I hear the Dao, I can die content in the evening." (Analects, Li Ren)

"Hearing the Dao" ($\text{wén dào}$) here does not mean auditory hearing but apprehension of the Great Dao through the entirety of one’s mind and body.

The Analects also records:

"The Master said: 'To set one's heart on the Dao, to be attached to Virtue, to rely on Benevolence, and to take pleasure in the Arts ($\text{yì}$)'." (Analects, Shū Er)

"To take pleasure in the Arts" ($\text{yóu yú yì}$) —to find easy pleasure in the Six Arts (Rites, Music, Archery, Charioteering, Calligraphy, Mathematics). The character "pleasure/wander" ($\text{yóu}$) is significant—it implies ease and self-possession, not arduous effort, when engaging with the Arts. When cultivation reaches a high level, the actor no longer needs strenuous effort; action flows spontaneously within the domain of the "Art."

The dancer's state of "not seeing oneself, not hearing oneself" ($\text{mù bù zì jiàn, ěr bù zì wén}$) is the bodily realization of "wandering in the Arts" ($\text{yóu yú yì}$): the dancer no longer needs to "watch" their movements or "listen" to the music's rhythm, because the dance has become the object of their effortless "wandering"—smooth, natural, and unthinking.

This state corresponds to the process of learning described in Xunzi: Exhortation to Learning ($\text{Quàn Xué}$):

"Thus, without accumulating the measure of a foot, one cannot travel a thousand li; without accumulating small streams, one cannot form a great river and sea... If one cuts persistently, metal and stone can be carved."

"Without accumulating the measure of a foot, one cannot travel a thousand li" ($\text{bù jī kuǐ bù, wú yǐ zhì qiān lǐ}$)—any high state requires accumulation starting from the basics. The dancer’s state of "not seeing oneself, not hearing oneself" is not innate but achieved through the accumulation of "small steps," i.e., long-term, repetitive training. From initially focusing intently on one’s movements and listening carefully to the rhythm, one progresses to the spontaneous outflow of action—no longer seeing oneself, no longer hearing oneself. This involves countless repetitions of training.

"If one cuts persistently, metal and stone can be carved" ($\text{qiè ér bù shě, jīn shí kě lóu}$)—Through perseverance, even metal and stone can be carved. Is not the dancer’s body also a piece of "metal and stone"$1 Through persistent training, the chaotic, natural body is carved into a cultured, orderly body—this is the concrete process of "transforming nature and cultivating artifice" ($\text{huà xìng qǐ wěi}$).

Section 3: From Individual Dance to Group Harmony — The Social Philosophy of "Accumulating Intent" ($\text{jī yì}$)

"The multitude accumulates intent, profoundly harmonious!" ($\text{zhòng jī yì zhōng zhōng hū}$)!—The key to this sentence lies in the character "multitude" ($\text{zhòng}$). The significance of dance lies not only in the individual’s physical refinement but also in the collective coordination of the group.

Pre-Qin music and dance were never solitary activities but group endeavors. The Rites of Zhou, Office of Music: Grand Master, describes the scale of musical performances:

"When the King feasts formally, after the third offering of congratulations, the bells and drums are ordered to sound."

"Whenever the Six Melodies are performed, the first change summons the spirits of rivers and marshes; the second change summons the spirits of creeping things and forests... The sixth change involves the elephant images and the celestial spirits."

Grand musical performances required the coordination of numerous musicians and dancers. The "Yi Dance" ($\text{yì wǔ}$) in ancient times was organized in ranks of eight; the Son of Heaven used eight yi (sixty-four people), feudal lords six yi (thirty-six people), high officials four yi (sixteen people), and scholars two yi (four people). Dozens or hundreds of dancers moving simultaneously without "a single instance of contrariness" ($\text{mí yǒu bèi nì zhě}$)—this required immense training and unspoken understanding!

"Accumulating intent" ($\text{jī yì}$): The intent accumulated here is not just the individual's intent but the shared spiritual state of the entire group. After long periods of collective training, the dancers form an ineffable synchronization—no verbal communication or visual cues are necessary; their bodies coordinate naturally. This is "accumulating intent" ($\text{jī yì}$)—the collective consensus reached through long accumulation.

"Profoundly Harmonious!" ($\text{zhōng zhōng hū}$)—This term describes a state of harmony that is measured and secure, rather than intensely agitated. This shows that the highest state of group harmony is not tense, forced uniformity but tranquil, spontaneous coordination—the multitude is not forcibly unified but harmoniously aligned.

This description profoundly reflects Xunzi’s social ideal. The ideal society is not a rigidly controlled collective (like the Legalist ideal) but a naturally harmonious group—where every member, having internalized social norms through the cultivation of Rites and Music ($\text{huà xìng qǐ wěi}$), acts in spontaneous coordination with others, without external coercion. "The multitude accumulates intent, profoundly harmonious!" is the microcosm of this ideal society.

Xunzi: On Wealth ($\text{Fù Guó}$) states:

"All things share the same space but have different bodies; they have different uses that are suitable for human needs, this is the result of number ($\text{shù}$). Human relationships coexist, seeking the same goals but following different paths, desiring the same things but having different knowledge—this is due to birth ($\text{shēng}$). All have some acceptable aspect, yet what they accept differs; this is where the distinction between the wise and the foolish lies. ... Therefore, the former kings established Rites and Righteousness ($\text{lǐ yì}$) to differentiate them, establishing ranks of rich and poor, noble and base, such that they could mutually oversee one another—this is the foundation for nurturing the world."

"Human relationships coexist" ($\text{rén lún bìng chù}$)—people live together. "Seeking the same goals but following different paths" ($\text{tóng qiú ér yì dào}$); the former kings established Rites and Righteousness to "differentiate" ($\text{fēn}$) them—establishing the rank and role of each person. This "differentiation" ($\text{fēn}$) is "governance" ($\text{zhì}$)—turning chaos into order.

The "profound harmony" ($\text{zhōng zhōng hū}$) achieved in the dance is the ideal state realized after "human relationships coexist" and are differentiated by "Rites and Righteousness." Everyone has their position, their movements, their rhythm, yet they coordinate harmoniously, proceeding with ease and tranquility—this is not the product of coercion but the result of cultivation.

Section 4: Dance and the Dao of Heaven — The Ultimate Explanation of "Combining the Intent of the Dao of Heaven" ($\text{yì tiān dào jiān}$)

Synthesizing all previous analyses, we can now offer a final interpretation of "combining the intent of the Dao of Heaven" ($\text{wǔ yì tiān dào jiān}$).

This five-character phrase can be understood on several levels:

First Level: The Body as Cosmic Simulation. The dancer simulates the operation of the Dao of Heaven through bodily movements: rising/falling (the verticality of Heaven and Earth), bending/stretching (the alternation of Yin and Yang), advancing/retreating (the passage of the four seasons), and slowing/hastening (the waxing and waning of the sun and moon). Dance is the miniature interpretation of the Dao of Heaven performed on the human body.

Second Level: The Group as Cosmic Miniature. The harmonious coordination of multiple dancers mirrors the harmonious coexistence of the myriad things in Heaven and Earth. The entire ensemble—with the drum reigning above, the bell bearing the foundation below, the chime stone flowing in the middle, the wind instruments shining like stars and the sun, the small instruments enriching the detail, and the dancers moving within—resembles the cosmos. Just as all things operate in the midst of Heaven and Earth, the dancers move within the framework of the music, realizing the Dao’s entirety.

Third Level: The Completion of Cultural Transformation. Dance is the highest form of Rites and Music education—it not only trains the body (the function of Rites) but also moves the heart (the function of Music); it not only regulates the individual but coordinates the group; it presents harmony not only in the auditory sense but fully in the visual and kinesthetic senses. Dance is the most complete realization of "transforming nature and cultivating artifice" ($\text{huà xìng qǐ wěi}$): the natural human body is completely transformed into a cultural body, and natural human desires are completely guided toward moral action.

Fourth Level: The Ultimate State of Unity between Heaven and Man. When the dancer "does not see themselves, does not hear themselves," when every movement is "clear and regulated," when "no one acts contrary," and when "the multitude accumulates intent, profoundly harmonious"—at this point, the human-made music and dance merge completely with the natural Dao. The person is no longer "performing" the Dao of Heaven but is a part of the Dao of Heaven’s manifestation—the ordered movement of the human body becomes a manifestation of the ordered operation of the Dao of Heaven.

This is the Confucian "Unity of Heaven and Man" ($\text{tiān rén hé yī}$)—not the Daoist merging of the individual with nature, but the group achieving a harmony identical to the Dao of Heaven through Rites and Music. This is the ultimate implication of "combining the intent of the Dao of Heaven" ($\text{yì tiān dào jiān}$).

Chapter Ten: Deep Inquiry: Why$2

Section 1: Why Does Sound and Music Require "Imagery" ($\text{xiàng}$)$3

First Question: Why does sound and music require "imagery" ($\text{xiàng}$)$4 Is not the beauty of sound and music directly perceptible$5 Why must we use language to describe its "imagery"—its qualities$6

This question touches upon the fundamental relationship between experience and language.

The beauty of sound and music is indeed directly felt—hearing the drum inspires reverence, hearing the bell brings stability, hearing the wind instruments inspires vigor. These do not require the mediation of language. Yet, Xunzi insists on using precise terms like "grandly beautiful" ($\text{dà lì}$), "comprehensively substantial" ($\text{tǒng shí}$), and "pure and regulated" ($\text{lián zhì}$) to describe these experiences. Why$7

Because Xunzi's goal is not merely to "feel" the beauty of music but to "understand" it—to elevate sensory experience to rational knowledge. Pure sensory experience is vague, personal, and incommunicable; rational knowledge is clear, public, and transmissible. By naming things with "imagery" ($\text{xiàng}$) and describing them with language, Xunzi elevates the aesthetic experience of music to a rational understanding, making it discussable, judgeable, and inheritable.

This aligns perfectly with the intent of "Rectifying Names" ($\text{zhèng míng}$): "A name is that by which we designate and accumulate substance ($\text{shí}$)." The "substance" ($\text{shí}$) of music is its acoustic quality; the "name" ($\text{míng}$) is the descriptive term ($\text{dà lì}$, $\text{tǒng shí}$, etc.). With these "names," people can "designate" (distinguish) the different qualities of various instruments and "accumulate" (transmit) this knowledge. Without these "images," there would be no standard to judge the good or bad of music, and no basis for the training of musicians.

Section 2: Why Do Instrument Qualities Correspond to Heaven, Earth, and the Myriad Things$8

Second Question: Why can the qualities of musical instruments correspond to Heaven, Earth, and the myriad things$9 Is this correspondence objectively real or a human construction$10

As discussed earlier, this correspondence has both an objective basis (the natural quality of the material determines the natural acoustic trait) and a human construction (systematizing these natural traits into a complete correspondence diagram).

More profoundly, why does the material of a thing happen to possess a quality that connects with the qualities of Heaven and Earth$11 Why does leather sound like Heaven’s thunder$12 Why does metal sound like Earth$13 Why does stone sound like flowing water$14

The answer in pre-Qin thought is: because all things are fundamentally one body—"The myriad things share the same space but have different bodies... All things emerge from the Dao and are endowed with qi." Leather comes from animals, which live between Heaven and Earth, so the quality of leather naturally embodies the qualities of Heaven and Earth. Metal comes from underground ore, so the quality of metal naturally embodies the quality of Earth. Stone originates in mountains, and water flows over stone—the quality of stone naturally connects with the quality of water.

This is the cosmology of "the oneness of the myriad things" ($\text{wàn wù yī tǐ}$). Under this view, the correspondence between instrument qualities and cosmic elements is not coincidental or forced; it is the natural manifestation of the unity of all things.

The Yijing, Great Treatise, First Part, states:

"That which is above form is called the Dao; that which is below form is called the vessel ($\text{qì}$)."

The "vessel" ($\text{qì}$) of music (the instrument), though below form, presents an "imagery" ($\text{xiàng}$, quality) that points toward the formless Dao (the principle of Heaven and Earth). "The Imagery of Sound and Music" serves as the bridge from "vessel" to "Dao"—through the specific qualities of musical instruments, one perceives the abstract principle of Heaven and Earth.

Section 3: Why the Drum is the "Sovereign" ($\text{jūn}$) and Not the "First" ($\text{shǒu}$) or "Master" ($\text{zhǔ}$)$15

Third Question: Why does Xunzi use the term "sovereign" ($\text{jūn}$) instead of "first" ($\text{shǒu}$) or "master" ($\text{zhǔ}$) to denote the drum's position in the ensemble$16

This question, seemingly minor, is deeply significant.

"First" ($\text{shǒu}$) means head, foremost, or number one—using "Is not the drum the first of music$17" ($\text{gǔ qí yuè zhī shǒu xié}$$18) would only imply the drum is first in sequence.

"Master" ($\text{zhǔ}$) means host, director, or principal—using "Is not the drum the master of music$19" ($\text{gǔ qí yuè zhī zhǔ xié}$$20) would imply the drum is the controlling agent.

But "Sovereign" ($\text{jūn}$) in pre-Qin usage carries rich political and ethical connotations. A "sovereign" is not just a ruler but a moral exemplar, the core of order, and the source of group cohesion. Xunzi: The Way of the Ruler states:

"The ruler is the source ($\text{yuán}$) of the people. If the source is pure, the stream is pure; if the source is turbid, the stream is turbid."

The ruler is the source of the people. It also states:

"The ruler is the model ($\text{yí}$). The people are the shadow ($\text{yǐng}$). If the model is correct, the shadow is correct."

The ruler is the standard model; the people are its shadow. If the model is correct, the shadow follows. By calling the drum the "sovereign" ($\text{jūn}$), Xunzi implies that the drum is not only first in rank ($\text{shǒu}$) and possesses control power ($\text{zhǔ}$), but also functions as a moral exemplar for the entire ensemble—the quality of the drum sound determines the quality of the whole ensemble ("if the model is correct, the shadow is correct"), and the rhythm of the drum determines the rhythm of the whole ("if the source is pure, the stream is pure").

This precise terminology reflects Xunzi’s consistent tendency to deeply connect music with politics—the harmony of the ensemble mirrors the political order of the state. An orderly ensemble is like a well-governed state; chaos in music is like chaos in governance.

Section 4: Why Dance Holds the Highest Status in the Acoustic System

Fourth Question: Why does dance hold the highest status in the system of sound and music—its quality being "combining the intent of the Dao of Heaven" ($\text{yì tiān dào jiān}$), rather than the drum or song$21

Superficially, the drum is the "sovereign of music," suggesting the highest status. However, upon closer examination, the drum’s quality is only "grand beauty" ($\text{dà lì}$)—this is just one aspect of the Dao (Heaven’s quality). The bell’s "substantiality" ($\text{tǒng shí}$) is Earth’s quality; the chime stone’s "regulation" ($\text{lián zhì}$) is Water’s quality—each captures one aspect of the Dao. Only dance, "combining" ($\text{jiān}$), encompasses the totality of the Dao of Heaven.

Why can dance "combine the intent of the Dao of Heaven"$22

Answer 1: Completeness of Medium. Instrumental music uses material media (metal, stone, earth, leather, silk, wood, gourd, bamboo), inherently limited by the material's characteristics—leather sound can only resemble Heaven, metal sound only Earth, stone sound only Water. Song uses the human voice, which is more flexible than instruments but remains confined to the auditory realm. Only dance uses the entire human body as its medium—the entirety of bones, muscles, joints, and facial expressions—encompassing visual, kinesthetic, and auditory (in coordination with music) sensory channels. The more comprehensive the medium, the more comprehensive the content it can express—hence, only dance can "combine" ($\text{jiān}$) the entirety of the Dao of Heaven.

Answer 2: Unity of Movement and Stillness. Instrumental music is primarily "sound"—dynamic and temporal. Dance is primarily "form"—which is spatial (occupying space) and temporal (changing over time). Dance unifies space and time, movement and stillness, form and sound—this unification is the characteristic of the Dao of Heaven (which possesses both spatial vastness and infinite time, both static order and dynamic change).

Answer 3: Degree of Human Participation. Instrumental music expresses through objects—humans manipulate instruments to produce sound. Song expresses directly through the human voice. Dance expresses through the entire human body—the person participates directly with their whole being. From "through objects" to "through sound" to "through the body," the degree of human participation increases. The highest participation yields the strongest expression; the strongest expression is best able to "combine" ($\text{jiān}$) the totality of the Dao of Heaven’s intent.

Answer 4: Visibility. The sound of instruments is audible but invisible. The sound of song is also audible but invisible. Only the movements of dance are both visible and audible (coordinated with music). "Imagery" ($\text{xiàng}$) is visible—the tradition of "observing imagery" ($\text{guān xiàng}$) in the Yijing emphasizes the visibility of "imagery"—"When established in Heaven, they become imagery ($\text{xiàng}$)" (Heaven presents itself through visible celestial signs). Dance presents the Dao of Heaven through visible bodily movements—this is why the "imagery" of dance surpasses the "imagery" of mere sound.

Section 5: Why "Not Seeing Oneself, Not Hearing Oneself"$23

Fifth Question: Why does Xunzi consider "not seeing oneself, not hearing oneself" ($\text{mù bù zì jiàn, ěr bù zì wén}$) the highest state of dance$24 Why not aim for precise self-control$25

This question touches upon the core Confucian discussion of the relationship between "nature" ($\text{xìng}$) and "effort" ($\text{miǎnqiáng}$).

Logically, the highest state of dance might seem to be flawless self-control—the dancer constantly monitors every movement to ensure zero error. However, Xunzi argues the opposite—"not seeing oneself, not hearing oneself," meaning no self-monitoring, is the highest state. Why$26

Because "self-monitoring" implies a separation between the actor and the action—"I" am watching "my movements"; "I" and "my action" are divided. While this division allows for error correction (because one can see the error), it limits the fluency and naturalness of the action—one must constantly switch between "thinking" and "doing," judging and adjusting, making truly fluid action impossible.

Conversely, "not seeing oneself, not hearing oneself" implies a complete unity between actor and action—no distance, no division, no switching between "thinking" and "doing." The dancer is the dance—the dance is simply happening. Under this condition, movement is most fluid, most natural, and most precise, because there is no interference from conscious deliberation.

This state resonates with Confucius's statement on reaching seventy: "At seventy, I could follow what my heart desired without overstepping the boundaries ($\text{bù yú jǔ}$)." (Analects, Wei Zheng)

"Following what the heart desires without overstepping the boundaries" ($\text{cóng xīn suǒ yù bù yú jǔ}$) is not about suppressing desire to obey the rules, but about the desire itself becoming integrated with the rules—what the heart desires is what the boundary requires.

The dancer’s "not seeing oneself, not hearing oneself" is the bodily equivalent of this—bodily actions flow naturally and perfectly align with the measures of the bell and drum. It is not that the body is forced to obey the rhythm, but that the body’s natural movement is the correct rhythm. This is the ultimate achievement of cultivation—where "nature" ($\text{xìng}$) and "artifice" ($\text{wěi}$) are perfectly merged, and naturalness and regulation are completely unified.

Section 5: Why Sound and Music Can "Move Deeply" and "Transform Quickly"

Sixth Question: Why is sound and music able to "move people deeply" ($\text{gǎn rén shēn}$) and "transform people quickly" ($\text{huà rén sù}$) compared to other means of moral instruction (like language or law)$27

Xunzi asserts that "the entry of sound and music into man is deep, and its transformation of man is fast." The basis for this assertion lies in:

Answer 1: Direct Appeal to Emotion. Verbal instruction relies on rationality—one must first understand the meaning of the words, then judge their correctness, and finally decide whether to accept them. This process involves "understanding—judgment—decision," where resistance can arise at any stage. Legal instruction relies on fear—people obey for fear of punishment, but their hearts may not agree. Sound and music are different—hearing a solemn drum sound, one does not need to "understand" its meaning or "judge" its correctness; reverence arises naturally. This is why it "enters deep" ($\text{rù rén yě shēn}$)—it penetrates directly to the core of emotion, bypassing rational mediation.

Answer 2: Collective Contagion. Instruction from one person to another is limited; the promulgation of a law, while public, depends on specific enforcement. Sound and music, however, can simultaneously move hundreds or thousands of people. As Xunzi states, "When music is performed in the ancestral temple, the ruler and ministers, the high and the low, listen together, and none is not harmonious and respectful." They "listen together" ($\text{tóng tīng zhī}$)—hearing the same music simultaneously, being moved by the same emotion simultaneously. This is the collective infectiousness of music, explaining why it "transforms fast" ($\text{huà rén yě sù}$).

Answer 3: Mobilization of All Senses. Speech primarily engages hearing (requiring comprehension); law primarily engages intellect. Music engages hearing (the sound), sight (the dance), kinesthesia (unconscious bodily movement), and even touch (feeling the vibration of low-frequency drums). The mobilization of all senses grants music a pervasive influence unmatched by means relying on a single sense.

The Record of Music states:

"Music is that which is an unchangeable aspect of feeling ($\text{qíng}$)."

The reason sound and music "feel deep and transform fast" is that they touch the most fundamental aspect of human feeling—the core that precedes rationality, judgment, and all cultural constructs.

Section 7: Why Refute Mozi’s "Against Music" ($\text{fēi yuè}$)$28

Seventh Question: Why did Xunzi specifically refute Mozi’s doctrine of "Against Music" in On Music$29 What exactly was wrong with Mozi’s argument$30

Mozi’s argument against music is found in Mozi: Against Music, Part One:

"Furthermore, when a benevolent man ($\text{rén zhě}$) calculates for the world, he does not calculate based on what pleases the eyes, what pleases the ears, what pleases the mouth, or what pleases the body for comfort; he does not use resources gained by plundering the people’s clothing and food to achieve these ends. A benevolent man does not do this."

Mozi’s fundamental argument is: Music consumes vast human and material resources ($\text{yī lì wù}$), yet it does not increase material wealth; instead, it "plunders the people’s clothing and food resources" ($\text{kuī duó mín yī shí zhī cái}$), so the benevolent man should not engage in it.

Xunzi refutes this by stating:

"Now, music ($\text{yuè}$) is enjoyment ($\text{lè}$), an essential aspect of human feeling that cannot be avoided. Therefore, man cannot be without music ($\text{rén bù néng wú yuè}$)."

The core of the refutation is: Man must have music; if music is forcibly abolished, human emotions will find harmful outlets instead.

From the perspective of the "Imagery of Sound and Music," the fundamental error in Mozi’s argument is that Mozi only saw the "material cost" of music but failed to see its "spiritual benefit" (cultivating the heart, coordinating society, communicating with Heaven and Man). The "imagery" of sound and music—grand beauty, substantiality, regulation, harmony, fierceness, ampleness, goodness, femininity, purity, and encompassing the Dao—each quality is necessary for social harmony. Without the drum’s "grand beauty," society lacks sublime aspiration; without the bell’s "substantiality," society lacks a solid foundation; without the chime stone’s "regulation," society lacks measured restraint. The social function of music far outweighs its material cost.

Xunzi further states:

"Therefore, music is the means by which the Dao is expressed. Metal, stone, silk, and bamboo are the means by which morality is realized. When music is practiced, the people turn toward the right path. Therefore, music is the greatest means of governing the people."

"Metal, stone, silk, and bamboo are the means by which morality is realized" ($\text{jīn shí sī zhú, suǒ yǐ dào dé yě}$). "When music is practiced, the people turn toward the right path" ($\text{yuè xíng ér mín xiāng fāng yǐ}$). "Music is the greatest means of governing the people" ($\text{yuè zhě, zhì rén zhī shèng zhě yě}$).

This judgment elevates music from mere entertainment to the highest political tool. Mozi viewed music as useless consumption; Xunzi viewed it as an essential instrument of governance—the difference lies in their understanding of the "Imagery of Sound and Music"—the qualities and functions of music.

Chapter Eleven: Multilayered Meanings of "The Imagery of Sound and Music": A Comprehensive Reflection

Section 1: "Imagery of Sound and Music" as Musical Aesthetics

From the perspective of musical aesthetics, the "Imagery of Sound and Music" is the earliest and most systematic description of pre-Qin musical qualities.

Its aesthetic value lies in:

First, pioneering the tradition of judging music by its character. Before this, commentary on music was limited to vague terms like "good" or "bad," "beautiful" or "licentious." Xunzi used precise quality terms—dà lì, tǒng shí, lián zhì, hé, fā měng, wēng bó, yì liáng, fù hǎo, qīng jìn, yì tiān dào jiān—to describe the unique character of each instrument, initiating the tradition of "appreciating quality" ($\text{pǐn yuè}$) in Chinese musical aesthetics.

Second, establishing a systematic classification of instrumental qualities. The qualities of the twelve instruments/activities form a complete spectrum moving from hard to soft, large to small, external to internal, and part to whole—the most systematic classification of instrumental qualities in the pre-Qin period.

Third, revealing the deep connection between music and nature. The correspondence between instrumental qualities and the cosmos is not arbitrary; it reveals a fundamental principle of musical aesthetics: musical beauty is rooted in natural beauty—the material of the instrument comes from nature, and the sonic quality is determined by the material; hence, musical beauty is rooted in the beauty of nature.

Section 2: "Imagery of Sound and Music" as Political Philosophy

From the perspective of political philosophy, the "Imagery of Sound and Music" is a miniature model of political order.

The drum is the "sovereign" of music—symbolizing the ruler. The bell is the foundation—symbolizing the ministers. The chime stone is the regulation—symbolizing the law. The wind instruments are the melody—symbolizing talent. The small instruments are the filling of detail—symbolizing the populace. Song is the sincerity of the human voice—symbolizing speech. Dance is the harmony of the whole—symbolizing peace under Heaven.

The entire ensemble is a microcosm of the ideal state: a sovereign (drum), wise ministers (bell and chime stone), talent (wind instruments), populace (small instruments), upright discourse (song), and ultimate peace (dance). When the ensemble plays harmoniously, the state is well-governed; when the ensemble is chaotic, the state suffers disorder.

This is the typical Confucian mode of "discussing politics through music"—using the analogy of musical harmony to explain political ideals. The brilliance of this analogy is that the harmony of music is directly perceptible to the listener, making the abstract ideal of political harmony tangible, understandable, and desirable.

Section 3: "Imagery of Sound and Music" as Cosmology

From a cosmological perspective, the "Imagery of Sound and Music" is a sonic diagram of the universe.

The correspondence: Heaven—Drum, Earth—Bell, Water—Chime Stone, Stars/Sun/Moon—Wind Instruments, Myriad Things—Small Instruments—forms a complete cosmological model. The core idea of this model is: The structure of the cosmos can be presented through sound and music.

This idea is not unique to Xunzi in the pre-Qin period. The system of trigrams in the Yijing, the correspondence system of the Five Phases, and the alignment of the Twelve Pitches with the Twelve Months are all based on the same cosmological presupposition: the structure of the cosmos is mirrored by certain symbolic systems (trigrams, Five Phases, pitches, acoustics). Xunzi’s "Imagery of Sound and Music" is the application of this cosmological tradition in the realm of music.

Section 4: "Imagery of Sound and Music" as Self-Cultivation Theory

From the perspective of self-cultivation theory, the section on dance offers a method for achieving moral cultivation through bodily training.

"Not seeing oneself, not hearing oneself"—transcending self-consciousness. "Regulating rising/falling, bending/stretching, advancing/retreating, slowing/hastening"—standardizing bodily actions. "None lacks clear regulation"—achieving perfect self-discipline. "Exhausting the strength of sinew and bone"—full-body commitment. "No contrariness"—achieving flawless coordination. "The multitude accumulates intent, profoundly harmonious!"—achieving collective tranquility and harmony.

These six stages form a complete path of self-cultivation: moving from transcending self-consciousness (mental level), to standardizing bodily action (physical level), to achieving self-discipline (character level), to full commitment (attitudinal level), to realizing group coordination (social level), to achieving a state of harmonious tranquility (ultimate attainment).

This path of cultivation is unique because it is body-centric—cultivation is achieved not just through reading and contemplation (though Xunzi valued learning) but through physical training and the practice of dance. The ordering of the body is the ordering of the heart—when the body achieves "clear regulation," the heart also reaches a state of "regulation."

This reflects the pre-Qin concept of the "unity of body and mind" ($\text{shēn xīn hé yī}$) in self-cultivation—cultivating the body is cultivating the mind, and cultivating the mind is cultivating the body. Sound and music—especially dance—provide the optimal means for cultivating both body and mind simultaneously.

Section 5: "Imagery of Sound and Music" as Epistemology

From an epistemological perspective, "The Imagery of Sound and Music" addresses a crucial question: How does one know the inaudible "intent" ($\text{yì}$)$31

"How is the intent of dance known$32" ($\text{hé yǐ zhī wǔ zhī yì}$)$33 Xunzi’s answer is through "observing imagery" ($\text{guān xiàng}$)—observing the dancer’s bodily movements ("imagery," $\text{xiàng}$) to grasp the deep meaning ("intent," $\text{yì}$) of the dance. This method of knowing is in direct lineage with the Yijing's tradition of "observing imagery"—grasping the invisible principle ($\text{lǐ}$) through visible imagery ($\text{xiàng}$).

However, Xunzi goes further: the highest form of knowing is not external "observing" but internal "experiencing"—"not seeing oneself, not hearing oneself" implies that the knower (the dancer) and the known object (the dance) merge into one. At this level, knowing is not "I observe the meaning of the dance," but "I am the meaning of the dance"—subject and object unify.

This state shares common ground with Zhuangzi’s "equality of things" ($\text{qí wù}$)—the dissolution of the subject-object separation to achieve a state of unity. The difference is that Xunzi believes this state is achieved through "Rites and Music training," whereas Zhuangzi believes it is achieved through "dialectical arguments of equality."

Section 6: Why Sound and Music Can "Move Deeply" and "Transform Quickly"

Sixth Question: Why is sound and music able to "move people deeply" and "transform people quickly" compared to other means of moral instruction (language, law)$34

Xunzi asserts that "the entry of sound and music into man is deep, and its transformation of man is fast." The basis for this assertion is:

Answer 1: Direct Affect on Emotion. Verbal instruction relies on rationality—one must first comprehend the meaning, then judge its validity, and finally decide to accept it. This involves "comprehension—judgment—decision," a process where resistance can arise at any step. Legal instruction relies on fear—people comply out of fear of punishment, but their hearts may not agree. Sound and music are different—they directly affect emotion, bypassing rational deliberation. Hearing a solemn drum, one does not need to "understand" or "judge"; reverence arises naturally. This is why it "enters deep" ($\text{rù rén yě shēn}$)—it penetrates directly to the core of emotion without rational mediation.

Answer 2: Collective Contagion. Instruction from one person to another is limited; the issuance of a law, though public, depends on specific enforcement. Sound and music can simultaneously affect hundreds or thousands. As Xunzi notes, "When music is performed in the ancestral temple, the ruler and ministers, the high and the low, listen together, and none is not harmonious and respectful." They "listen together" ($\text{tóng tīng zhī}$), being moved by the same emotion simultaneously. This collective power explains why music "transforms fast" ($\text{huà rén yě sù}$).

Answer 3: Engagement of All Senses. Speech primarily engages hearing (requiring interpretation); law primarily engages intellect. Music engages hearing (sound), sight (dance), kinesthesia (unconscious bodily rhythm), and even touch (feeling the vibration of the drum). Engagement across all senses grants music a pervasive influence beyond methods relying on a single sense.

The Record of Music states:

"Music is that which is an unchangeable aspect of feeling ($\text{qíng}$)."

The reason sound and music "feel deep and transform fast" is that they touch the most fundamental, unchangeable aspects of human emotion—the core that precedes rationality, judgment, and all cultural construction.

Section 7: Why Refute Mozi’s "Against Music" ($\text{fēi yuè}$)$35

Seventh Question: Why did Xunzi specifically refute Mozi’s "Against Music" doctrine in On Music$36 What exactly was wrong with Mozi’s argument$37

Mozi’s argument is found in Mozi: Against Music, Part One:

"Furthermore, when a benevolent man calculates for the world, he does not calculate based on what pleases the eyes, what pleases the ears, what pleases the mouth, or what pleases the body for comfort; he does not use resources gained by plundering the people’s clothing and food to achieve these ends. A benevolent man does not do this."

Mozi’s fundamental point is: Music consumes vast resources without increasing material wealth, thus it is morally unjustifiable.

Xunzi refutes this by stating:

"Now, music is enjoyment, an inevitability of human feeling. Therefore, man cannot be without music." (Xunzi, On Music)

The core of the refutation is: Music is a necessary human need; if forcibly abolished, human emotions will erupt in more harmful ways.

From the perspective of "The Imagery of Sound and Music," Mozi’s error is viewing music merely as material consumption while ignoring its "spiritual benefit" (cultivating the heart, coordinating society, connecting Heaven and Man). The qualities described—grand beauty, substantiality, regulation, harmony, fierceness, ampleness, goodness, femininity, purity, and encompassing the Dao—are all prerequisites for social harmony. Without the drum’s "grand beauty," society lacks sublime aspiration; without the bell’s "substantiality," society lacks solid foundation; without the chime stone’s "regulation," society lacks restraint. The social function of music far outweighs its material cost.

Xunzi further states:

"Therefore, music is the means by which the Dao is expressed. Metal, stone, silk, and bamboo are the means by which morality is realized. When music is practiced, the people turn toward the right path. Therefore, music is the greatest means of governing the people."

"Metal, stone, silk, and bamboo are the means by which morality is realized" ($\text{jīn shí sī zhú, suǒ yǐ dào dé yě}$). "When music is practiced, the people turn toward the right path" ($\text{yuè xíng ér mín xiāng fāng yǐ}$). "Music is the greatest means of governing the people" ($\text{yuè zhě, zhì rén zhī shèng zhě yě}$).

This elevates music from pure entertainment to the highest political tool. Mozi saw music as useless expenditure; Xunzi saw it as the essential instrument of governance—the difference lying in their perception of the "Imagery of Sound and Music"—its qualities and functions.

Chapter Twelve: Conclusion: The Eternal Resonance of "The Imagery of Sound and Music"

Section 1: The Intellectual Status of "The Imagery of Sound and Music"

The passage "The Imagery of Sound and Music," though brief, contains profound and rich philosophical thought.

Within the context of pre-Qin Confucianism, this passage is the realization of Confucius’s ideal of "perfection achieved through music" ($\text{chéng yú yuè}$)—it answers the question of how music perfects man: the twelve qualities of music teach twelve corresponding virtues; the overall harmony of music reflects the totality of the Dao of Heaven; the collective practice of music cultivates social coordination.

In the broader context of pre-Qin thought, this passage represents the confluence of Confucian and Daoist musical theories—it embodies the Confucian spirit of "creation" (the former kings establishing music, creating systems) while implicitly pointing toward the Daoist inclination toward "nature" (instrumental qualities arising from nature, the highest state being spontaneous flow).

Cosmologically, this passage is the most systematic expression of the "Correspondence between Heaven and Man" ($\text{tiān rén xiāng yìng}$) in the realm of music—establishing a deep link between sound/music and the cosmos by mapping the instrument lineage onto the cosmological diagram.

In terms of self-cultivation theory, this passage is the most concrete demonstration of "transforming nature and cultivating artifice" ($\text{huà xìng qǐ wěi}$) on the physical level—through dance training, the natural body is transformed into a cultural body, reaching the ultimate state of "following the heart’s desire without overstepping the bounds."

Section 2: The Eternal Resonance

The questions raised by Xunzi’s "Imagery of Sound and Music"—regarding the relationship between sound/music and nature, music and politics, body and mind, and the individual and the group—remain profoundly relevant today.

Music and Nature: Xunzi believed that the beauty of music is rooted in nature—the materials of the instruments come from nature, and their sonic qualities are determined by those materials. This reminds us that music is not purely a human construct but a dialogue between humanity and nature.

Music and Politics: Xunzi compared the ensemble to a miniature state—with a sovereign, ministers, populace, order, coordination, and harmony. This analogy reveals an eternal truth: good governance, like good music, is not monotonous uniformity but a coordinated harmony of diverse elements.

Body and Mind: Xunzi’s theory of dance demonstrates that the training of the body is the cultivation of the mind; the two are inseparable. This challenges the bias toward prioritizing the mind over the body, asserting the irreplaceable value of physical practice (like dance and ritual) in perfecting character.

Individual and Group: "The multitude accumulates intent, profoundly harmonious!" ($\text{zhòng jī yì zhōng zhōng hū}$) describes an ideal group state—where each person maintains their uniqueness (their own movements, their own position) while harmoniously coordinating with others (no one acts contrary, the whole proceeds with ease). This is the ultimate state of "harmony without sameness" ($\text{hé ér bù tóng}$)—achieving collective harmony while preserving individual character.

The words written by Master Xunzi over two millennia ago continue to resonate powerfully today, not only for their refined literary beauty but for their profound depth of thought. "The Imagery of Sound and Music" is not just a passage on musical aesthetics but a hymn to the beauty of the cosmos, the harmony of all things, and the ultimate goodness of human culture.

"The multitude accumulates intent, profoundly harmonious!" ($\text{zhòng jī yì zhōng zhōng hū}$)!—As we read this final exclamation, it seems we can hear the sounds of the dance from two thousand years ago echoing in our ears—the drum grandly beautiful, the bell comprehensively substantial, the chime stone pure and regulated, the yú, shēng, and xiāo harmonious while the guǎn and yuè fiercely emit, the xūn and chí expansive and ample, the sè easily good, the qín pleasantly feminine, the song pure and exhaustive, and the dancers’ bodies moving calmly between Heaven and Earth, combining the intent of the Dao of Heaven—

The multitude accumulates intent, profoundly harmonious!

Appendix: List of Cited Pre-Qin Classics

Xuanji Editorial Department

This essay provides an in-depth interpretation of the "Imagery of Sound and Music" section in Xunzi: On Music from the perspectives of pre-Qin Confucianism, Daoism, and ancient cosmology, striving to remain within the original context of the pre-Qin language. The arguments presented represent one line of inquiry, and we respectfully seek critique from specialists.