For if I too may now adopt the language of a philosopher, my conception of the matter is that the soul of a well-endowed man resembles a very tender target. Many bowmen, their quivers full of words of all sorts and kinds, shoot at it during life, but not with success in every case. Some draw to the head and let fly harder than they should: though they hit the target, their arrows do not stick in it, but owing to their momentum go through and continue their flight, leaving only a gaping wound in the soul.. Others, again, do the opposite ; themselves too weak, their bows too slack, the arrows do not even carry to the target as a rule, but often fall spent at half the distance ; and if ever they do carry, they strike with a mere fret o’ the skin,Iliad 17, 599. and do not make a deep wound, as they were not sped with a strong pull.