(28) of Similes appears the following significant allusion: "Like as men would laugh at a poore man, if having precious garments lent him to act and play the part of some honourable personage upon a stage, when the play were at an ende he should keepe them as his owne, and bragge up and downe in them."

(606) element to break loose because the sorrow is another’s; and the spectator fancies that there can be no disgrace to himself in praising and pitying any one who comes telling him what a good man he is, and making a fuss about his troubles; he thinks that the pleasure is a gain, and why should he be supercilious and lose this and the poem too? Few persons ever reflect, as I should imagine, that from the evil of other men something of evil is communicated to themselves. And so the feeling of sorrow which has gathered strength at the sight of the misfortunes of others is with difficulty repressed in our own. How very true! And does not the same hold also of the ridiculous? There are jests which you would be ashamed to make yourself, and yet on the comic stage, or indeed in private, when you hear them, you are greatly amused by them, and are not at all disgusted at their unseemliness;—the case of pity is repeated;—there is a principle in human nature which is disposed to raise a laugh, and this which you once restrained by reason, because you were afraid of being thought a buffoon, is now let out again; and having stimulated the risible faculty at the theatre, you are betrayed unconsciously to yourself into playing the comic poet at home. Quite true, he said. And the same may be said of lust and anger and all the other affections, of desire and pain and pleasure, which are held to be inseparable from every action—in all of them poetry feeds and waters the passions instead of drying them up; she lets them rule, although they ought to be controlled, if mankind are ever to increase in happiness and virtue. I cannot deny it.

(1) When a friend tells a joke to his friend, The deaf man who listens laughs twice over; The first time from imitation and foolishness, Because he sees all the party laughing; Yet, though he laughs like the others, He is then ignorant of the subject of their laughter; Then he inquires what the laughter was about, And, on hearing it, proceeds to laugh a second time. Wherefore the blind imitator is like a deaf man, The light is the Shaikh's, the fountain the Shaikh's, And the outpouring of joy is also the Shaikh's, not his.

(3) For some men are so cumbered in nice curious customs in bodily bearing, that when they shall ought hear, they writhe their heads on one side quaintly, and up with the chin: they gape with their mouths as they should hear with their mouth and not with their ears. Some when they should speak point with their fingers, either on their fingers, or on their own breasts, or on theirs that they speak to. Some can neither sit still, stand still, nor lie still, unless they be either wagging with their feet or else somewhat doing with their hands. Some row with their arms in time of their speaking, as them needed for to swim over a great water. Some be evermore smiling and laughing at every other word that they speak, as they were giggling girls and nice japing jugglers lacking behaviour. Seemly cheer were full fair, with sober and demure bearing of body and mirth in manner.

(396) good man when he has anything to say, and that another sort will be used by a man of an opposite character and education. And which are these two sorts? he asked. Suppose, I answered, that a just and good man in the course of a narration comes on some saying or action of another good man,—I should imagine that he will like to personate him, and will not be ashamed of this sort of imitation: he will be most ready to play the part of the good man when he is acting firmly and wisely; in a less degree when he is overtaken by illness or love or drink, or has met with any other disaster. But when he comes to a character which is unworthy of him, he will not make a study of that; he will disdain such a person, and will assume his likeness, if at all, for a moment only when he is performing some good action; at other times he will be ashamed to play a part which he has never practised, nor will he like to fashion and frame himself after the baser models; he feels the employment of such an art, unless in jest, to be beneath him, and his mind revolts at it. So I should expect, he replied. Then he will adopt a mode of narration such as we have illustrated out of Homer, that is to say, his style will be both imitative and narrative; but there will be very little of the former, and a great deal of the latter. Do you agree? Certainly, he said; that is the model which such a speaker

(89) Here view thyself, thou witty, subtle world, and consider from whence thy prudence, subtlety and wit proceed. Now thou wilt say to me:

(605) which he represents some pitiful hero who is drawling out his sorrows in a long oration, or weeping, and smiting his breast—the best of us, you know, delight in giving way to sympathy, and are in raptures at the excellence of the poet who stirs our feelings most. Yes, of course I know. But when any sorrow of our own happens to us, then you may observe that we pride ourselves on the opposite quality—we would fain be quiet and patient; this is the manly part, and the other which delighted us in the recitation is now deemed to be the part of a woman. Very true, he said. Now can we be right in praising and admiring another who is doing that which any one of us would abominate and be ashamed of in his own person? No, he said, that is certainly not reasonable. Nay, I said, quite reasonable from one point of view. What point of view? If you consider, I said, that when in misfortune we feel a natural hunger and desire to relieve our sorrow by weeping and lamentation, and that this feeling which is kept under control in our own calamities is satisfied and delighted by the poets;—the better nature in each of us, not having been sufficiently trained by reason or habit, allows the sympathetic

(13) He regards a dying man simply as one who is going home. He sees others weep, and he naturally weeps too. "Besides, a man's personality is something of which he is subjectively conscious. It is impossible for him to say if he is really that which he is conscious of being. You dream you are a bird, and soar to heaven. You dream you are a fish, and dive into the ocean's depths. And you cannot tell whether the man now speaking is awake or in a dream. "A pleasurable sensation precedes the smile it evokes. The smile itself is not dependent upon a reminding nudge. unconscious of all changes, and you shall enter into the pure, the divine, the One." I Erh Tzŭ went to see Hsü Yu. The latter asked him, saying, "How has Yao benefited you?" "He bade me," replied the former, "practise charity and do my duty, and distinguish clearly between right and wrong." "Then what do you want here?" said Hsü Yu. "If Yao has already branded you with charity and duty, and cut off your nose with right and wrong, what do you do in this free-and-easy, care-for-nobody, topsy-turvy neighbourhood?" "Nevertheless," replied I Erh Tzŭ, "I should like to be on its confines." "If a man has lost his eyes," retorted Hsü Yu, "it is impossible for him to join in the appreciation of beauty. A man with a film over his eyes cannot tell a blue sacrificial robe from a yellow one."

(3) But say if him I here behold, who forth Evoked the new-invented rhymes, beginning, 'Ladies, that have intelligence of love?'" And I to him: "One am I, who, whenever Love doth inspire me, note, and in that measure Which he within me dictates, singing go." "O brother, now I see," he said, "the knot Which me, the Notary, and Guittone held Short of the sweet new style that now I hear. I do perceive full clearly how your pens Go closely following after him who dictates, Which with our own forsooth came not to pass; And he who sets himself to go beyond, No difference sees from one style to another;" And as if satisfied, he held his peace. Even as the birds, that winter tow'rds the Nile, Sometimes into a phalanx form themselves, Then fly in greater haste, and go in file; In such wise all the people who were there, Turning their faces, hurried on their steps, Both by their leanness and their wishes light. And as a man, who weary is with trotting, Lets his companions onward go, and walks, Until he vents the panting of his chest;

(253) If a man looks after the faults of others, and is always inclined to be offended, his own passions will grow, and he is far from the destruction of passions.

(4) Fleshly janglers, flatterers and blamers, ronkers and ronners, and all manner of pinchers, cared I never that they saw this book: for mine intent was never to write such thing to them. And therefore I would not that they heard it, neither they nor none of these curious lettered nor unlearned men: yea! although they be full good men in active living, for it accordeth not to them.

(392) about men poets and story-tellers are guilty of making the gravest misstatements when they tell us that wicked men are often happy, and the good miserable; and that injustice is profitable when undetected, but that justice is a man’s own loss and another’s gain—these things we shall forbid them to utter, and command them to sing and say the opposite. To be sure we shall, he replied. But if you admit that I am right in this, then I shall maintain that you have implied the principle for which we have been all along contending. I grant the truth of your inference. That such things are or are not to be said about men is a question which we cannot determine until we have discovered what justice is, and how naturally advantageous to the possessor, whether he seem to be just or not. Most true, he said. Enough of the subjects of poetry: let us now speak of the style; and when this has been considered, both matter and manner will have been completely treated. I do not understand what you mean, said Adeimantus. Then I must make you understand; and perhaps I may be more intelligible if I put the matter in this way. You are aware, I suppose, that all mythology and poetry is a narration of events, either past, present, or to come? Certainly, he replied. And narration may be either simple narration, or imitation, or a union of the two? That again, he said, I do not quite understand. I fear that I must be a ridiculous teacher when I have so much difficulty in making myself apprehended. Like a bad speaker, therefore, I will not take the whole of the subject,

(211) That men may not see the bloom of the one and the other's shame, True, the Gardener knows the difference even in autumn, But the sight of One is better than the world's sight. That One Person is Himself the world, as He is the sun, That One Person is Himself the world, and the rest Are all His dependents and parasites, O man! He is the perfect world, yet He is single; Wherefore all forms and colours of beauty cry out, " Good news! good news! Lo! the spring is at hand!" If the blossoms did not shine as bright helmets,

(23) My feeble wit conjured up vain imaginations." How can an infant on the road know the thoughts of men? How far its fancies are removed from true knowledge! The thoughts of infants run on the nurse and milk, Or on raisins or nuts, or on crying and wailing. The blind imitator is like a feeble infant, His preoccupation with obscure arguments and proofs His stock of lore, which is the salve of his eyes, Ah! man of imitation, come out of Bokhara! Then you will, behold another Bokhara within you, Though a footman may be swift of foot on land,

(5) "What happened?" said Chamiaholom. "What has stung you?" And when the twelfth of those seated was stung, he said "Alas!" "What is this, Patán?" they said. "What has stung you?" And the thirteenth of those seated said "Alas!" when he was stung. "What is the matter, Quicxic?" said Patán. "What has stung you?" And the fourteenth of those seated when he was stung said "Alas!" "What has stung you, Quicrixcac?" said Quicré.

(136) A fool does not know when he commits his evil deeds: but the wicked man burns by his own deeds, as if burnt by fire.

(388) men to me, subdued at the hands of Patroclus the son of Menoetius 13 .’ For if, my sweet Adeimantus, our youth seriously listen to such unworthy representations of the gods, instead of laughing at them as they ought, hardly will any of them deem that he himself, being but a man, can be dishonoured by similar actions; neither will he rebuke any inclination which may arise in his mind to say and do the like. And instead of having any shame or self-control, he will be always whining and lamenting on slight occasions. Yes, he said, that is most true. Yes, I replied; but that surely is what ought not to be, as the argument has just proved to us; and by that proof we must abide until it is disproved by a better. It ought not to be. Neither ought our guardians to be given to laughter. For a fit of laughter which has been indulged to excess almost always produces a violent reaction. So I believe. Then persons of worth, even if only mortal men, must not be represented as overcome by laughter, and still less must such a representation of the gods be allowed. Still less of the gods, as you say, he replied. Then we shall not suffer such an expression to be used about the gods as that of Homer when he describes how ‘Inextinguishable laughter arose among the blessed gods, when they saw Hephaestus bustling about the mansion 14 .’ On your views, we must not admit them. On my views, if you like to father them on me; that we

(95) In brief, the simple plain man must be his fool, whereas he himself is indeed a proud angel, and is in his love but a dead man. This sort of party also will have its looking-glass in the following chapter. III.

(40) But now, he that hath a purse, let him take it, and likewise his scrip: and he that hath no sword, let him sell his garment, and buy one.

(3) I saw one made in fashion of a lute, If he had only had the groin cut off Just at the point at which a man is forked. The heavy dropsy, that so disproportions The limbs with humours, which it ill concocts, That the face corresponds not to the belly, Compelled him so to hold his lips apart As does the hectic, who because of thirst One tow'rds the chin, the other upward turns. "O ye, who without any torment are, And why I know not, in the world of woe," He said to us, "behold, and be attentive Unto the misery of Master Adam; I had while living much of what I wished, And now, alas! a drop of water crave. The rivulets, that from the verdant hills Of Cassentin descend down into Arno, Making their channels to be cold and moist, Ever before me stand, and not in vain; For far more doth their image dry me up Than the disease which strips my face of flesh. The rigid justice that chastises me Draweth occasion from the place in which I sinned, to put the more my sighs in flight.