and see, and hear me as I see them; we are one. Yea, I think even the inanimate objects have what we call individual life or soul, and cannot understand. Any unskilful lout can blow a flute, but, as we express it, the tones are no longer pure and true; and though we notice no difference in the material, its Psyche is injured. Only a skilful master can again draw out its rightful tones with careful handling; and again we notice no alteration in the material parts. Ay, and the soul of man can just the same be put out of tune, and how it rejoices when the right tone is again elicited."
It Was difficult after this digression, which had a certain relative aim, to return to the original common train of thought. Oldenburg wished to hold fast to his more than ordinarily communicative friend, and, in his peculiar manner, he tried first to secure his ally, and enable him to proceed at the same pace. So he turned to Olympia and said:
"Women do not like demonstrations that are not pictorial, in which they are often like children. If philosophy, however, is to be compared to any art it should not be to music, but to the plastic art. Yes, you may smile. Ideas are cold and colorless as marble. The images of the chisel, like abstract thoughts, are not mere portraits of this or that particular figure. They rise the higher the more they become typical. There the beauty of humanity,