Alexander longed to bathe in the Cydnus on seeing that the stream was fair and clear, safely deep, agreeably swift, delightful to swim in and cool in the height of summer; even with foreknowledge of the fever which he contracted from it, I do not think he would have abstained from his plunge. Then can it be that on seeing a hall beyond compare in the greatness of its size, the splendour of its beauty, the brilliance of its illumination, the lustre of its gilding and the gaiety of its pictures, a man would not long to compose speeches in it, if this were his business, to seek repute and win glory in it, to fill it with his voice and, as far as lay in him, to become part and parcel of its beauty? Or after looking it over carefully and admiring it, would he rather go away and leave it mute and voiceless, without according it a word of greeting or a particle of intercourse, as if he were dumb or else out of illwill had resolved to hold his tongue?

Heracles! such conduct would not be that of a connoisseur or a lover of beauty; it would be very vulgar, tasteless, even Philistine to despise what is sweetest, to reject what is fairest, and not to comprehend that in all that appeals to the eye, the same law does not hold for ordinary and for educated men. No, for the former it is enough to do the usual thing—just to see, to look about, to cast their eyes everywhere, to crane their necks at the ceiling, to gesticulate and to take their joy in silence for fear of not being able to say anything adequate to what they see. But when a man’ of culture beholds beautiful things, he will not be content, I am sure, to harvest their charm. with his eyes alone, and will not endure to be a silent spectator of their beauty; he will do all he can to linger there and make some return for the spectacle in speech.

And such a return does not consist simply in praising the hall. No doubt it was fitting - for Homer's island boy Telemachus (Odyss. 4, 71): he compares the house of Menelaus to the palaces of the gods. to be astounded at the house of Menelaus and to compare its ivory and gold to the beautiful things in heaven because he had never seen anything else on earth that was beautiful. But to speak here, to collect an audience of cultured men and show one’s eloquence is also a form of praise. It is very delightful, I think, that the fairest of halls should be flung open for the harbourage of speech and should be full of praise and laudation; re-echoing softly like a cavern, following what is said, drawing out the concluding sounds of the voice and lingering on the last words ; or, to put it better, committing to memory all that one says, like an appreciative hearer, and applauding the speaker and gracefully repeating his phrases. In some such way the rocks pipe in answer to the piping of the shepherds when the sound comes back again by repercussion and returns upon itself. The untaught think it is a maid who answers all who sing and shout, abiding somewhere in the heart of the cliffs and talking from the inside of the crags.

To me, at least, it seems that a splendid hall excites the speaker's fancy and stirs it to speech, as if he were somehow prompted by what he sees. No doubt something of beauty flows through the eyes into the soul, and then fashions into the likeness of itself the words that it sends out. In the case of Achilles, the sight of his armour enhanced his anger at the Trojans, and when he put it on to try it, he was inspired and transported with the lust of battle.Iliad, 19, 16; 384. Then are we to believe that the passion for speech is not enhanced by beautiful surroundings? Socrates was satisfied with a fine plane-tree and lush grass and a spring of clear water.not far from the Ilissus: sitting there, he plied his irony at the expense of Phaedrus of Myrrhinus, criticised the speech of Lysias, son of Cephalus, and invoked the Muses, believing that they would come to a sequestered spot and take part in the debate on love, and thinking no shame, old as he was, to invite maids to join him in amorous ditties. Herod. 7, 27. May we not suppose that they would come to a place as beautiful as this, even without an invitation ?

In truth, our shelter is not to be compared with mere shade or with the beauty of a plane-tree, not even if you pass over the one on the Ilissus and mention the Great King’s golden plane.Plato, Phaedrus, 229 seq. That was wonderful only on account of its cost ; there was no craftsmanship or beauty or charm or symmetry or grace wrought into the gold or combined with it. The thing was barbarous, nothing but money, a source of envy to those who saw it, and of felicitation to those who owned it. There was nothing praiseworthy about it. The ArsacidsAnachronism ; the possessors of the tree were the Achaemenid princes. neither cared for beauty nor aimed at attractiveness in making their display nor minded whether the spectators praised or not,as long as they were astounded.

The barbarians are not beauty-levers; they are moneylovers. On the contrary, the beauty of this hall has nothing to do with barbarian eyes, Persian flattery, or Sultanic vainglory. Instead of just a poor man, it wants a cultured man for a spectator, who, instead of judging with his eyes, applies thought to what he sees. It faces the fairest quarter of the day (for the fairest and loveliest is surely the beginning); it welcomes in the sun when he first peeps up; light fills it to overflowing through the wide-flung doors ; the proportion of length to “breadth and of both to height is harmonious; the windows are generous and well-suited to every season of the year. Is not all this attractive and praiseworthy ?

One might also admire the ceiling for its reserved modelling, its flawless decoration, and the refined - symmetry of its gilding, which is not unnecessarily lavish, but only in such degree as would suffice a modest and beautiful woman to set off her beauty— a delicate chain round her neck, a light ring on her finger, pendants in her ears, a buckle, a band that confines the luxuriance of her hair and adds as much to her good looks as a purple border adds to a gown. It is courtesans, especially the less attractive of them, who have clothing all purple and necks all gold, trying to secure seductiveness by extravagance and to make up for their lack of beauty by the addition of extraneous charms ; they think that their arms will look whiter when they are bright with gold, and that the unshapeliness of their feet will escape notice in golden sandals, and that their very faces will be lovelier when seen together with something very bright. This is the course they follow ; but a modest girl uses only what gold is sufficient and necessary, and would not be ashamed of her beauty, I am sure, if she were to show it unadorned.

The ceiling of this hall—call it the face if you will—well-featured itself, is as much embellished by the gilding as heaven by the stars at night, with sprinkled lights and scattered flowers of fire. If all were fire, it would be terrible, not beautiful, to us. You will observe that the gilding yonder is not purposeless, and not intermingled with the rest of the decorations for its own charm alone. It shines witha sweet radiance, and colours the whole hall with its flush ; for when the light, striking the gold, lays hold of it and combines with it, they gleam jointly and make the flush doubly brilliant.

Such is the top, the summit of the hall: it needs a Homer to praise it by calling it “highceiled” like the chamber of Helen Il. 3, 423; Od. 4. 121.Il. 3, 423; Od. 4. 121. or “dazzling” like Olympus. Il. 1, 253; 13, 243; Od. 20, 103. The rest of the decoration, the frescoes on the walls, the beauty of their colours, and the vividness, exactitude, and truth of each detail might well be compared with the face of spring and with a flowery field, except that those things fade and wither and change and cast their beauty, while this is spring eternal, field unfading, bloom undying. Naught but the eye touches it and culls the sweetness of what it sees.

Who would not be charmed with the sight or all these beautiful things? Who would not want to outdo himself in speaking among them, aware that it is highly disgraceful not to be a match for that which one sees? The sight of beauty is seductive, and not to man alone. Even a horse, I think, would find more pleasure in running on a soft, sloping plain that receives his tread pleasantly, yields a little to his foot, and does not shock his hoof. Then he puts in play all his power of running, gives himself over to speed and nothing else, and vies with the beauty of the plain.

The peacock, too, at the opening of spring goes to a field at the time when the biossoms which it puts out are not only lovelier, but, in a manner of speaking, more blossomy and brighter of hue; spreading his wings and showing them to the sun, lifting his tail and surrounding himself with it, he, too, displays his blossoms and the April of his wings, as if the field were challenging him to vie with it. Atall events, he twists and turns and puts on airs with his beauty. Now and again he is a sight still more wonderful, when his colours change under the light, altering a little and turning to a different kind of loveliness. This happens to him chiefly in the circles that he has at the tips of his feathers, each of which is ringed with a rainbow. What was previously bronze has the look of gold when he shifts a little, and what was bright blue in the sun is bright green in shadow, so much does the beauty of his plumage alter with the light!

For you know without my telling you that the sea has power to invite and provoke longing when it is calm. At such a time, no matter how much of a landsman and a lubber a man may be, he wants at all costs to get aboard ship and cruise about and go far from land, above all if he perceives the breeze gently swelling the canvas and the vessel sweetly and smoothly gliding along, little by little, over the crest of the waves.

Certainly, then, the beauty. of this hall has power to rouse a man to speech, to spur him on in speaking and to make him succeed in every- way. I for my part am trusting in all this and have already trusted in it; in coming to the hall to speak, I was attracted by its beauty as by a magic wheel or a Siren, for I had no slight hope that even if my phrases were homely before, they would seem beautiful if adorned, so to speak, in fine clothing.

There is, however, another point of view, not insignificant but very important, if you take Mr. Point o’ View's word for it; he kept interrupting me as I spoke and trying to break up my speech, and now that I have paused he says that I am mistaken in this matter: he is surprised that I should say a beautiful hall adorned with painting and gilding is better suited for the display of eloquence, as the case is entirely the reverse. But if you approve, let Mr. Point o’ View himself take the floor in his own behalt and tell you as he would a jury wherein he thinks a mean and ugly hall more advantageous to the speaker. You have heard me already, so that I do not need to speak again to the same topic; let him take the floor now and say his say, and I will be still and ield to him for a time.

“Well, gentlemen of the jury,” says Mr. Point o’ View, “the last speaker has made many striking points in praise of the hall, and has adorned it with his words. I myself am so far from intending to criticise it that I have in mind to add the points which he omitted, for the more beautiful you think it, the more hostile to the speaker's interest it will be, as I shall show.

“First, then, since he has mentioned women, jewelry and gold, permit me also to make use of the comparison. I assert that, far from contributing to the good looks of a beautiful woman, abundant jewelry is actually a detriment. Everyone who meets her is dazzled by her gold and her expensive gems, and instead of praising her complexion, her eyes, her neck, her arm or her finger, he neglects them and lets his eyes wander ta her sard or her emerald, her necklace or her bracelet. She might fairly get angry at being thus slighted for her ornaments, when observers are too occupied to pay her compliments and think her looks a side-issue.

The same thing is bound to happen, I think, to a man who tries to show his eloquence among works of art like these. Amid the mass of beautiful things, what he says goes unheeded, vanishes and is absorbed, as if a candle were taken toa great fire and thrown in, or’ an ant pointed out on the back of an elephant or a camel. This danger, certainly, the speaker must guard against, and also that his voice be not disturbed when he speaks in a hall so musical and echoing, for it resounds, replies, refutes—in fact, it drowns his utterance, just as the trumpet drowns the flute when they are played together, and as the sea drowns chanty-men when they undertake to sing for the rowers against the noise of the surf. For the great volume of sound overpowers and crushes into silence all that is weaker.

"As to the other point which my opponent made, that a beautiful hall spurs a speaker on and makes him more ambitious, I think it does the opposite. It dazzles and frightens him, disturbs his thought and makes him more timid, for he reflects that it is disgraceful beyond everything that his discourse should not match a place so beautiful. For such surroundings put a man most clearly to the proof. It is ’ asif he should put on a handsome coat of mail and then take to his heels.before the rest, making his cowardice only the more conspicuous for his armour. This, ‘I think, is the consideration which causes Homer's famous oratorOdysseus: Il. 3, 219. to think very little of good-looks and even make himself appear ‘ an utter know-nothing’ in order that the beauty of his words may seem more striking by comparison with that which is uglier. Besides, it is inevitable that the speaker’s own mind should be occupied in looking, and that the accuracy of his thinking should be disturbed because what he is looking at gets the better of him, attracts him and ‘does not allow him to attend to what he is saying. So how can he help speaking very badly, when in spirit he is busied with the praise of all that he sees?

“I forbear to say that even those who are present and have been invited to the lecture become spectators instead of hearers when they enter such a hall as this, and no speaker is enough of a Demodocus, a Phemius, a Thamyris, an Amphion or an Orpheus to distract their minds from looking. Why, every one of them is flooded with beauty the instant he crosses the threshold, and does not give the least sign of hearing Il, 23, 430. what the speaker says or anything else, but is all absorbed in what he sees, unless he is stone-blind or like the court of the Areopagus, listens in the dark!

That the power of the tongue is no match for the eyes, one can learn by comparing the story of the Sirens with the one about the Gorgons. The Sirens charmed passing voyagers by making music and working on them with songs, and held them long when they put in. In short, their performance only exacted a delay, and no doubt one or another voyager went by them, neglecting their music. On the contrary, the beauty of the Gorgons, ° being extremely powerful and affecting the very vitals of the soul, stunned its beholdersand made them speechless, so that, as the story has it and everyone says, they turned to stone in wonder. For this reason I count what my opponent said to you a moment ago about the peacock a plea for my side: surely his attractiveness is in his looks, not in his voice! If anybody should match a nightingale or a swan against him, letting them sing - and showing the peacock silent while they were singing, I “know well that your soul would go over to him, bidding a long farewell to their songs. So invincible, it seems, is the delight of the eyes!

If you wish, I will produce you a witness in the person of a sage, who will testify on the spot that what one sees is far more effective than what one hears. Crier, summon in person Herodotus, son ‘of Lyxus, of Halicarnassus. Since he has been so kind as to comply, let him take the stand and give his testimony. Suffer him to speak to you in Ionic, to which he is accustomed. “'Master Point o’ View telleth ye true herein. Believe whatso he sayeth to this matter, esteeming sight over hearing, for in sooth ears be less trusty than eyes.’ Only the last clause is really Herodotean (I, 8, 3). “Do you hear what the witness says, that he gives the palm to sight? With reason, for words are winged and go flying off the instant they have left the lips, while the beauty of things seen is always present and lasting and entices the spectator, will he, nill he.