Vibrates in the memory;
Odors, when sweet violets sicken,
Live within the sense they quicken;
Rose leaves, when the rose is dead,
Are heaped for the beloved's bed;
And so thy thoughts when thou art gone,
Love itself shall slumber on.

Observe how, out of the countless things which he knows, the poet has
chosen those which he feels akin to his faith in the immortality of
love. The painter would not, if he could, reproduce all the elements
of a face, but only those that are expressive of the interpretation
of character he wishes to convey. The novelist and the dramatist proceed
in a like selective fashion in the treatment of their material. In the
lives of men there are a thousand actions and events--casual spoken
words, recurrent processes such as eating and dressing, hours of
idleness and futility which, because repetitious, habitual, or
inconsequential, throw no light upon that alone in which we are
interested,--character and fortune. To describe a single example of
these facts suffices. In the novel and drama, therefore, the
personalities and life histories of men have a simplicity and singleness
of direction not found in reality. The artist seeks everywhere the
traits that individualize and characterize, and neglects all others.

Moreover, since the aim of art is to afford pleasure in the intuition
of life, the artist will try to reveal the hidden unities that so
delight the mind to discover. He will aim to penetrate beneath the
surface of experience observed by common perception, to its more obscure
logic underneath. In this way he will go beyond what the mere mechanism
of imitation requires. The poet, for example, manifests latent emotional