Even dancing (he goes on)

imitates character, emotion and action, by rhythmical

movement.

Now, having touched on mud-pies, let me say a few words upon

these aesthetic imitative instincts of acting, dancing, singing

before I follow Aristotle into his explanation of the origin of

Poetry, which I think we may agree to be the highest subject of

our Art of Reading and to hold promise of its highest reward.

Every wise mother sings or croons to her child and dances him on

her knee. She does so by sure instinct, long before the small

body can respond or his eyes--always blue at first and

unfathomably aged--return her any answer. It lulls him into the

long spells of sleep so necessary for his first growth. By and

by, when he has found his legs, he begins to skip, and even

before he has found articulate speech, to croon for himself. Pass

a stage, and you find him importing speech, drama, dance,

incantation, into his games with his playmates. Watch a cluster

of children as they enact "Here we go gathering nuts in May"--

eloquent line: it is just what they are doing!--or "Here come

three Dukes a-riding," or "Fetch a pail of water," or "Sally,

Sally Waters":

Sally, Sally Waters,

Sitting in the sand,

Rise, Sally--rise, Sally,

For a young man.

Suitor presented, accepted [I have noted, by the way, that this

game is more popular with girls than with boys]; wedding ceremony

hastily performed--so hastily, it were more descriptive to say

'taken for granted'--within the circle; the dancers, who join

hands and resume the measure, chanting

Now you are married, we wish you joy--

First a girl and then a boy

--the order, I suspect, dictated by exigencies of rhyme rather

than of Eugenics, as Dryden confessed that a rhyme had often

helped him to a thought. And yet I don't know; for the incantation

goes on to redress the balance in a way that looks scientific:

Ten years after, son and daughter,

And now--

[Practically!]

And now, Miss Sally, come out of the water.

The players end by supplying the applause which, in these days of

division of labour, is commonly left to the audience.

On The Art of Reading · 第 41 / 132 题