her his bodily and mental self, gives her speech.

Goethe said 'man never understands how anthropomorphic he is.' No
study, however comprehensive, enables him to overstep human limits,
or conceive a concrete being, even the highest, from a wholly
impersonal point of view. His own self always remains an encumbering
factor. In a real sense he only understands himself, and his measure
for all things is man. To understand the world outside him, he must
needs ascribe his own attributes to it, must lend his own being to
find it again.

This unexplained faculty, or rather inherent necessity, which implies
at once a power and a limit, extends to persons as well as things.
The significant word sympathy expresses it. To feel a friend's grief
is to put oneself in his place, think from his standpoint and in his
mood--that is, suffer with him. The fear and sympathy which condition
the action of tragedy depend upon the same mental process; one's own
point of view is shifted to that of another, and when the two are in
harmony, and only then, the claim of beauty is satisfied, and
æsthetic pleasure results.

By the well-known expression of Greek philosophy, 'like is only
understood by like,' the Pythagoreans meant that the mathematically
trained mind is the organ by which the mathematically constructed
cosmos is understood. The expression may also serve as an æsthetic
aphorism. The charm of the simplest lyrical song depends upon the
hearer's power to put himself in the mood or situation described by
the poet, on an interplay between subject and object.

Everything in mental life depends upon this faculty. We observe,