harvest-time, and the moon in her ordered wanderings change from
shield to sickle, and from sickle to shield.

But while Christ did not say to men, 'Live for others,' he pointed
out that there was no difference at all between the lives of others
and one's own life. By this means he gave to man an extended, a
Titan personality. Since his coming the history of each separate
individual is, or can be made, the history of the world. Of
course, culture has intensified the personality of man. Art has
made us myriad-minded. Those who have the artistic temperament go
into exile with Dante and learn how salt is the bread of others,
and how steep their stairs; they catch for a moment the serenity
and calm of Goethe, and yet know but too well that Baudelaire cried
to God -


'O Seigneur, donnez moi la force et le courage
De contempler mon corps et mon coeur sans degout.'


Out of Shakespeare's sonnets they draw, to their own hurt it may
be, the secret of his love and make it their own; they look with
new eyes on modern life, because they have listened to one of
Chopin's nocturnes, or handled Greek things, or read the story of
the passion of some dead man for some dead woman whose hair was
like threads of fine gold, and whose mouth was as a pomegranate.
But the sympathy of the artistic temperament is necessarily with
what has found expression. In words or in colours, in music or in
marble, behind the painted masks of an AEschylean play, or through
some Sicilian shepherds' pierced and jointed reeds, the man and his