And do all men equally like all dances?  ‘Far otherwise.’  Do some figures, then, appear to be beautiful which are not?  For no one will admit that the forms of vice are more beautiful than the forms of virtue, or that he prefers the first kind to the second.  And yet most persons say that the merit of music is to give pleasure.  But this is impiety.  There is, however, a more plausible account of the matter given by others, who make their likes or dislikes the criterion of excellence.  Sometimes nature crosses habit, or conversely, and then they say that such and such fashions or gestures are pleasant, but they do not like to exhibit them before men of sense, although they enjoy them in private.  ‘Very true.’  And do vicious measures and strains do any harm, or good measures any good to the lovers of them?  ‘Probably.’  Say, rather ‘Certainly’:  for the gentle indulgence which we often show to vicious men inevitably makes us become like them.  And what can be worse than this?  ‘Nothing.’  Then in a well-administered city, the poet will not be allowed to make the songs of the people just as he pleases, or to train his choruses without regard to virtue and vice.  ‘Certainly not.’  And yet he may do this anywhere except in Egypt; for there ages ago they discovered the great truth which I am now asserting, that the young should be educated in forms and strains of virtue.  These they fixed and consecrated in their temples; and no artist or musician is allowed to deviate from them.  They are literally the same which they were ten thousand years ago.  And this practice of theirs suggests the reflection that legislation about music is not an impossible thing.  But the particular enactments must be the work of God or of some God-inspired man, as in Egypt their ancient chants are said to be the composition of the goddess Isis.  The melodies which have a natural truth and correctness should be embodied in a law, and then the desire of novelty is not strong enough to change the old fashions.  Is not the origin of music as follows?  We rejoice when we think that we prosper, and we think that we prosper when we rejoice, and at such times we cannot rest, but our young men dance dances and sing songs, and our old men, who have lost the elasticity of youth, regale themselves with the memory of the past, while they contemplate the life and activity of the young.  ‘Most true.’  People say that he who gives us most pleasure at such festivals is to win the palm:  are they right?  ‘Possibly.’  Let us not be hasty in deciding, but first imagine a festival at which the lord of the festival, having assembled the citizens, makes a proclamation that he shall be crowned victor who gives the most pleasure, from whatever source derived.  We will further suppose that there are exhibitions of rhapsodists and musicians, tragic and comic poets, and even marionette-players—­which of the pleasure-makers will win?  Shall I answer for you?—­the marionette-players will please the children; youths will decide for comedy; young