HE who knows himself and othersHere will also see， That the East and West， like brothers，Parted ne'er shall be.
Thoughtfully to float for ever'Tween two worlds， be man's endeavour！
So between the East and WestTo revolve， be my behest！
1833.*
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第一章EXPLANATION OF AN ANCIENT WOODCUT， REPRESENTINGHANS SACHS' POETICAL MISSION.
[I feel considerable hesitation in venturing to offer this version of a poem which Carlyle describes to be 'a beautiful piece (a very Hans Sacks beatified， both in character and style)， which we wish there was any possibility of translating.' The reader will be aware that Hans Sachs was the celebrated Minstrel-Cobbler of Nuremberg， who Wrote 208 plays， 1700 comic tales， and between 4000 and 5000 lyric poems. He flourished throughout almost the whole of the 16th century.]
EARLY within his workshop here， On Sundays stands our master dear；His dirty apron he puts away， And wears a cleanly doublet to-day；Lets wax'd thread， hammer， and pincers rest， And lays his awl within his chest；The seventh day he takes repose From many pulls and many blows.
Soon as the spring-sun meets his view， Repose begets him labour anew；He feels that he holds within his brain A little world， that broods there amain， And that begins to act and to live， Which he to others would gladly give.
He had a skilful eye and true， And was full kind and loving too.
For contemplation， clear and pure，--
For making all his own again， sure；
He had a tongue that charm'd when 'twas heard， And graceful and light flow'd ev'ry word；Which made the Muses in him rejoice， The Master-singer of their choice.
And now a maiden enter'd there， With swelling breast， and body fair；With footing firm she took her place， And moved with stately， noble grace；She did not walk in wanton mood， Nor look around with glances lewd.
She held a measure in her hand， Her girdle was a golden band， A wreath of corn was on her head， Her eye the day's bright lustre shed；Her name is honest Industry， Else， Justice， Magnanimity.
She enter'd with a kindly greeting；
He felt no wonder at the meeting， For， kind and fair as she might be， He long had known her， fancied he.
"I have selected thee，" she said， "From all who earth's wild mazes tread， That thou shouldst have clear-sighted sense， And nought that's wrong shouldst e'er commence.
When others run in strange confusion， Thy gaze shall see through each illusion When others dolefully complain， Thy cause with jesting thou shalt gain， Honour and right shalt value duly， In everything act simply， truly，--Virtue and godliness proclaim， And call all evil by its name， Nought soften down， attempt no quibble， Nought polish up， nought vainly scribble.
The world shall stand before thee， then， As seen by Albert Durer's ken， In manliness and changeless life， In inward strength， with firmness rife.
Fair Nature's Genius by the hand Shall lead thee on through every land， Teach thee each different life to scan， Show thee the wondrous ways of man， His shifts， confusions， thrustings， and drubbings， Pushings， tearings， pressings， and rubbings；The varying madness of the crew， The anthill's ravings bring to view；But thou shalt see all this express'd， As though 'twere in a magic chest.
Write these things down for folks on earth， In hopes they may to wit give birth."--Then she a window open'd wide， And show'd a motley crowd outside， All kinds of beings 'neath the sky， As in his writings one may spy.
