Finally, as regards the literature of the subject treated of in this chapter, I have only one work to recommend, but it is a good one. I refer to a poetical epistle in _terzo rimo_ by the famous painter Bronzino, entitled _De' Romori: a Messer Luca Martini_. It gives a detailed description of the torture to which people are put by the various noises of a small Italian town. Written in a tragicomic style, it is very amusing. The epistle may be found in _Opere burlesche del Berni, Aretino ed altri_, Vol. II., p. 258; apparently published in Utrecht in 1771. A FEW PARABLES. In a field of ripening corn I came to a place which had been trampled down by some ruthless foot; and as I glanced amongst the countless stalks, every one of them alike, standing there so erect and bearing the full weight of the ear, I saw a multitude of different flowers, red and blue and violet. How pretty they looked as they grew there so naturally with their little foliage! But, thought I, they are quite useless; they bear no fruit; they are mere weeds, suffered to remain only because there is no getting rid of them. And yet, but for these flowers, there would be nothing to charm the eye in that wilderness of stalks. They are emblematic of poetry and art, which, in civic life--so severe, but still useful and not without its fruit--play the same part as flowers in the corn. * * * * * There are some really beautifully landscapes in the world, but the human figures in them are poor, and you had not better look at them. * * * * * The fly should be used as the symbol of impertinence and audacity; for whilst all other animals shun man more than anything else, and run away even before he comes near them, the fly lights upon his very nose. * * * * * Two Chinamen traveling in Europe went to the theatre for the first time. One of them did nothing but study the machinery, and he succeeded in finding out how it was worked. The other tried to get at the meaning of the piece in spite of his ignorance of the language. Here you have the Astronomer and the Philosopher. * * * * * Wisdom which is only theoretical and never put into practice, is like a double rose; its color and perfume are delightful, but it withers away and leaves no seed. No rose without a thorn. Yes, but many a thorn without a rose. * * * * * A wide-spreading apple-tree stood in full bloom, and behind it a straight fir raised its dark and tapering head. _Look at the thousands of gay blossoms which cover me everywhere_, said the apple-tree; _what have you to show in comparison? Dark-green needles! That is true_, replied the fir, _but when winter comes, you will be bared of your glory; and I shall be as I am now_. * * * * *