AESTHETIC EDUCATION, FIRST LETTER


And thus for Pompe and for beyete
The Scribe and ek the Pharisee
Of Moises upon the See

immemorial pronouncements of Common Reason, and as data of that moral 
instinct which Nature in her wisdom appointed

thei scholden hele;
And what Schep that is full of wulle
Upon his back, thei toose and pulle,
Whil ther is eny thing to pile:
And thogh ther be non other skile
Bot only for thei wolden wynne,
Thei leve noght, whan thei begynne,
Upon her acte to procede,
Which is no good schepherdes dede.

of discretion. But it is precisely this technical form, whereby truth is 
made manifest to the intellect, which veils it again from our feeling. For 
alas! intellect must first destroy the object of Inner Sense if it would 
make it its own. Like the analytical chemist, the philosopher can only 
discover how things are combined by analysing them, only lay bare the 
workings of spontaneous Nature by subjecting them to the torment of his own 
techniques. In order to lay hold of the fleeting phenomenon, he must first 
bind it in the fetters of rule, tear its fair body to pieces by reducing it 
to concepts, and preserve its living spirit in a sorry skeleton of words. Is 
it any wonder that natural feeling cannot find itself again in such an 
image, or that in the account of the analytical thinker truth should appear 
as

Bot he that made ferst the Mone,
The hyhe god, of his goodnesse,
If ther be cause, he it redresce.


*


ON THE SUBLIME


The sublime object is of a dual sort. We refer it either to our

For every worldes thing is vein,
And evere goth the whiel aboute,
And evere stant a man in doute,
Fortune stant no while stille,
So hath ther noman al his wille.
Als fer as evere a man may knowe,
Ther lasteth nothing bot a throwe;

as a power against which our own dwindles to nothing

So may be seker non astat,
Now hier now ther, now to now fro,
Now up now down, this world goth so,
And evere hath don and evere schal:

the Occasion of a painful awareness of our limitations, still we do not run 
away from it, but rather are drawn to it by an irresistible force. Would 
this be even possible if the limits of our imagination were at the same time 
the limits of our power of apprehension? Would we so gladly accede to the 
reminder of the overwhelming power of natural forces if we did not possess 
something else in reserve which need not fall prey to

To Daniel his drem he tolde,
And preide him faire that he wolde
Arede what it tokne may;
And seide: "Abedde wher I lay,
Me thoghte I syh upon a Stage
Wher stod a wonder strange ymage.
His hed with al the necke also
Thei were of fin gold bothe tuo;
His brest, his schuldres and his armes
Were al of selver, bot the tharmes,
The wombe and al doun to the kne,
Of bras thei were upon to se;
The legges were al mad of Stiel,
So were his feet also somdiel,
And somdiel part to hem was take
Of Erthe which men Pottes make;
The fieble meynd was with the stronge,
So myhte it wel noght stonde longe.

We delight in the sensuously infinite because we are able to think what the 
senses can no longer apprehend and the understanding can no longer 
comprehend. We are ravished by the terrifying because we are able to will 
that which our sensuous impulses are appalled by, and can reject what they 
desire. We gladly permit the imagination to meet its master in the realm of 
appearances because ultimately it is only a sensuous faculty that triumphs 
over other sensuous faculties; but nature in her entire boundlessness cannot 
impinge upon the absolute greatness within ourselves. We gladly subordinate 
our

The world of Selver was begonne
And that of gold was passed oute:
And in this wise it goth aboute
In to the Regne of Darius;
And thanne it fell to Perse thus,
That Alisaundre put hem under,
Which wroghte of armes many a wonder,
So that the Monarchie lefte
With Grecs, and here astat uplefte,
And Persiens gon under fote


*


ON THE USE OF THE CHORUS IN TRAGEDY


A poetical work must

of Selver and of Gold
The world is passed and agon,
And now upon his olde ton
It stant of brutel Erthe and

the poet may labor according to an ideal — that the critic may judge from 
ideas, but

whiche acorden nevere a diel;

Everyone expects from the imaginative arts a certain emancipation from the 
bounds of reality: we are willing to give a scope to fancy, and recreate 
ourselves with

I not hou charite may stonde,
Wher dedly werre is take on honde.
Bot al this wo is cause of man,
The which that wit and reson can,
And that in tokne and in witnesse
That ilke ymage bar liknesse
Of man and of non other beste.

plastic imaginative power

Was every creature ordeined,
Bot afterward it was restreigned:
Whan that he fell, thei fellen eke,
Whan he wax sek, thei woxen seke;
For as the man hath passioun
Of seknesse, in comparisoun
So soffren othre creatures

It is well-known that the Greek tragedy had its origin in the chorus; and 
though in process of time it became independent, still it may be said that 
poetically, and in spirit, the chorus was the source of its existence, and 
that without these persevering supporters and witnesses of the incident a 
totally different order of poetry would have grown out of the drama. The 
abolition of the chorus, and the debasement of this sensibly powerful organ 
into the characterless substitute of a confidant, is by no means such an 
improvement in the tragedy as the French, and their imitators, would

Is to an Angel resemblable,
And lich to beste he hath fielinge,
And lich to Trees he hath growinge;
The Stones ben and so

I have divided it into two parts

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