sign somewhat of its nature that the notes may flow into harmony with one another, one after another rising and falling."
Spinoza looked at Olympia with sparkling eyes. How she treasured his words, and sought to bring them within her own mental sphere. He had no time to follow out his thought, that this view might be applied to their personal connection. For after a pause Olympia continued with this strange digression:
"I cannot help being annoyed, that while such extraordinary progress has been made in your art that the stars can be brought quite close to our sense of sight, why have not instruments been made to strengthen our hearing? How glorious it would be if we could hear the music of the spheres that Dante describes so divinely."
"If we accepted it as a fact that the stars move with rhythmical sound, it would do but little for our intelligence to hear them."
"Intelligence then is the measure of everything? Is not enjoyment desirable in itself? You must confess that no regular movement exists without rhythmical sound, from which I have drawn a very odd conclusion, which I will tell you, if you will promise not to laugh at me."
"I promise that, for I am curious to hear what conclusion seems so odd to you."
"Half a year ago my father told me that an