In the first we suspect some degree of exaggeration, such as we may
also observe among certain masters of the art, not unknown to us, at
the present day. With this natural enthusiasm, which is felt by a few
only, there seems to mingle in Plato a sort of Pythagorean reverence
for numbers and numerical proportion to which Aristotle is a stranger.
Intervals of sound and number are to him sacred things which have a law
of their own, not dependent on the variations of sense. They rise above
sense, and become a connecting link with the world of ideas. But it is
evident that Plato is describing what to him appears to be also a fact.
The power of a simple and characteristic melody on the impressible mind
of the Greek is more than we can easily appreciate. The effect of
national airs may bear some comparison with it. And, besides all this,
there is a confusion between the harmony of musical notes and the
harmony of soul and body, which is so potently inspired by them.
The second paradox leads up to some curious and interesting
questions—How far can the mind control the body? Is the relation
between them one of mutual antagonism or of mutual harmony? Are they
two or one, and is either of them the cause of the other? May we not at
times drop the opposition between them, and the mode of describing
them, which is so familiar to us, and yet hardly conveys any precise
meaning, and try to view this composite creature, man, in a more simple
manner? Must we not at any rate admit that there is in human nature a
higher and a lower principle, divided by no distinct line, which at
times break asunder and take up arms against one another? Or again,
they are reconciled and move together, either unconsciously in the
ordinary work of life, or consciously in the pursuit of some noble aim,
to be attained not without an effort, and for which every thought and
nerve are strained. And then the body becomes the good friend or ally,
or servant or instrument of the mind. And the mind has often a
wonderful and almost superhuman power of banishing disease and weakness
and calling out a hidden strength. Reason and the desires, the
intellect and the senses are brought into harmony and obedience so as
to form a single human being. They are ever parting, ever meeting; and
the identity or diversity of their tendencies or operations is for the
most part unnoticed by us. When the mind touches the body through the
appetites, we acknowledge the responsibility of the one to the other.
There is a tendency in us which says ‘Drink.’ There is another which
says, ‘Do not drink; it is not good for you.’ And we all of us know
which is the rightful superior. We are also responsible for our health,
although into this sphere there enter some elements of necessity which
may be beyond our control. Still even in the management of health, care
and thought, continued over many years, may make us almost free agents,
if we do not exact too much of ourselves, and if we acknowledge that