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diff --git a/.gitattributes b/.gitattributes new file mode 100644 index 0000000..d7b82bc --- /dev/null +++ b/.gitattributes @@ -0,0 +1,4 @@ +*.txt text eol=lf +*.htm text eol=lf +*.html text eol=lf +*.md text eol=lf diff --git a/LICENSE.txt b/LICENSE.txt new file mode 100644 index 0000000..6312041 --- /dev/null +++ b/LICENSE.txt @@ -0,0 +1,11 @@ +This eBook, including all associated images, markup, improvements, +metadata, and any other content or labor, has been confirmed to be +in the PUBLIC DOMAIN IN THE UNITED STATES. + +Procedures for determining public domain status are described in +the "Copyright How-To" at https://www.gutenberg.org. + +No investigation has been made concerning possible copyrights in +jurisdictions other than the United States. Anyone seeking to utilize +this eBook outside of the United States should confirm copyright +status under the laws that apply to them. diff --git a/README.md b/README.md new file mode 100644 index 0000000..dc2af2a --- /dev/null +++ b/README.md @@ -0,0 +1,2 @@ +Project Gutenberg (https://www.gutenberg.org) public repository for +eBook #55445 (https://www.gutenberg.org/ebooks/55445) diff --git a/old/55445-0.txt b/old/55445-0.txt deleted file mode 100644 index f35f502..0000000 --- a/old/55445-0.txt +++ /dev/null @@ -1,16139 +0,0 @@ -The Project Gutenberg EBook of The Philosophy of Fine Art, volume 2 (of 4), by -G. W. F. Hegel - -This eBook is for the use of anyone anywhere in the United States and most -other parts of the world at no cost and with almost no restrictions -whatsoever. You may copy it, give it away or re-use it under the terms of -the Project Gutenberg License included with this eBook or online at -www.gutenberg.org. If you are not located in the United States, you'll have -to check the laws of the country where you are located before using this ebook. - -Title: The Philosophy of Fine Art, volume 2 (of 4) - Hegel's Aesthetik - -Author: G. W. F. Hegel - -Translator: Francis Plumptre Beresford Osmaston - -Release Date: August 27, 2017 [EBook #55445] - -Language: English - -Character set encoding: UTF-8 - -*** START OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK PHILOSOPHY OF FINE ART, VOL 2 *** - - - - -Produced by Laura Natal Rodriguez and Marc D'Hooghe at -Free Literature (online soon in an extended version,also -linking to free sources for education worldwide ... MOOC's, -educational materials,...) Images generously made available -by the Internet Archive.) - - - - - - -THE PHILOSOPHY OF - -FINE ART - -BY - -G. W. F. HEGEL - -TRANSLATED, WITH NOTES, BY - -F. P. B. OSMASTON, B.A. - -AUTHOR OF "THE ART AND GENIUS OF TINTORET," "AN ESSAY -ON THE FUTURE OF POETRY," AND OTHER WORKS - -VOL II - - - - -CONTENTS OF VOL. II - -SECOND PART - -INTRODUCTION - -[Evolution of the Ideal in the Particular Types of Fine Art, -namely, the Symbolic, the Classical, and the Romantic. -Symbolic Art seeks after that unity of ideal significance -and external form, which Classical art in its representation -of substantive individuality succeeds in securing to -sensuous perception, and which Romantic art passes -beyond, owing to its excessive insistence on the claims -of Spirit] - - -SUBSECTION I - -THE SYMBOLIC TYPE OF ART - -INTRODUCTION - -OF THE SYMBOL GENERALLY - -[1. Symbol as a sign simply in language, colours, etc. 8 - -2. Not a mere sign to represent something else, but a -significant fact which presents the idea or quality it -symbolizes 9 - -3. Thing symbolized must have other qualities than that -accepted as symbol. Term symbol necessarily open -to ambiguity 10 - -(_a_) Ambiguity in particular case whether the concrete -fact _is_ set before us as a symbol. Difference between -a symbol and a simile. Illustrations 10 - -(_b_) Ambiguity extends to-entire worlds of Art, _e.g_, -Oriental art. Two theories with regard to mythos -discussed and contrasted 14 - -(_c_) The problems of mythology in the present treatise -limited to the question, "How far symbolism is -entitled to rank as a form of Art?" Will only -consider symbol in so far as it belongs to Art in its -own right and itself proceeds from the notion of -the Ideal, the unfolding of which it commences] 19 - -DIVISION OF SUBJECT - -[1. The artistic consciousness originates in wonder. The -effects that result from such a state. Art the first interpreter -of the religious consciousness. Conceptions -envisaged in plastic forms of natural objects 23 - -2. The final aim of symbolic art is classical art. Here it -is dissolved. The Sublime lies between the two extremes 26 - -3. The stages of symbolical art classified according to -their subdivisions in the chapters of this. Second Part -of the entire treatise] 29 - -CHAPTER I - -UNCONSCIOUS SYMBOLISM - -A. Unity of Significance and Form in its immediacy 36 - -1. The religion of Zoroaster 37 - -2. No true symbolical significance in the above 42 - -3. Equally destitute of an artistic character 44 - -B. Fantastic Symbolism 47 - -1. The Hindoo conception of Brahmâ 50 - -2. Sensuousness, measurelessness, and personifying -activity of Hindoo imagination 51 - -3. Conception of purification and penance 64 - -C. Genuine Symbolism 65 - -1. Nature no longer accepted in its immediate sensuous -existence as adequate to the significance. Art -and general outlook of ancient Egypt 75 - -[(_a_) The inward import held independent of immediate -existence in the embalmed corpse 76 - -(_b_) Doctrine of immortality of the soul as held by -Egyptians 76 - -(_c_) Superterranean and subterranean modes of -Egyptian art. The Pyramids] 77 - -2. Worship of animals, as the vision of a secreted soul. -Symbolical and non-symbolical aspects of this cult 78 - -3. Works of Egyptian art are objective riddles. The -Sphinx symbolic of the genius of Egypt. Memnons, -Isis, and Osiris 79 - -CHAPTER II - -THE SYMBOLISM OF THE SUBLIME - -A. Pantheism of Art 89 - -1. Hindoo poetry 90 - -2. Persian and Mohammedan poetry. Modern reflections -of such poetry as in Goethe 92 - -3. Christian Mysticism 97 - -B. The Art of the Sublime 97 - -1. God as Creator and Lord of a subject World. He -is Creator, not Generator. His Dwelling not in -Nature 100 - -2. Nature and the human form cut off from the Divine -(_entgöttert_) 101 - -3. Nullity of objective fact a source of the enhanced -self-respect of man. Man's finiteness and immeasurable -transcendency of God. No place for -immortality. The Law 103 - -CHAPTER III - -THE CONSCIOUS SYMBOLISM OF THE COMPARATIVE TYPE OF ART - -A. Modes of Comparison originating from the side of externality 110 - -1. The Fable. Aesop 113 - -2. The Parable, Proverb, and Apologue 122 - -3. The Metamorphosis 125 - -B. Comparisons, which in their imaginative presentation -originate in the Significance 128 - -1. The Riddle 130 - -2. The Allegory 132 - -3. The Metaphor, Image, and Simile 137 - -C. The Disappearance of the Symbolic Type of Art 161 - -1. The Didactic Poem 163 - -2. Descriptive Poetry 165 - -3. Relation of both aspects of internal feeling and external -object in the ancient Epigram 165 - - -SUBSECTION II - -THE CLASSICAL TYPE OF ART - -INTRODUCTION - -THE CLASSICAL TYPE IN GENERAL - -1. Self-subsistency of the Classical type viewed as the -interfusion of the spiritual and its natural form 175 - -[(_a_) No return of the ideal principle upon itself. No -separation of opposed aspects of inward and external 175 - -(_b_) Symbolism absent from this type except incidentally 176 - -(_c_) Reproach of anthropomorphism] 179 - -2. Greek art as the realized existence of the classical type 181 - -3. Position of the creative artist under such a type 183 - -[(_a_) His freedom no result of a restless process of fermentation. -Receives his material as something -assured in history or belief 183 - -(_b_) His plastic purpose is clearly defined 184 - -(_c_) High level of technical ability 185 - -Classification of subject-matter] 186 - -CHAPTER I - -THE FORMATIVE PROCESS OF THE CLASSICAL TYPE OF ART - -Introduction and Division of subject 189 - -1. The Degradation of Animalism as such 191 - -(_a_) The sacrifice of animals. How regarded by the -Greeks 192 - -(_b_) The Chase, or examples of such in heroic times 194 - -(_c_) Tales of metamorphosis. Illustrations both from -Greek and Egyptian traditions 194 - -2. The Contest between the older and later Dynasties of -Gods 201 - -(_a_) The oracles whereby the gods attest their presence -through natural existences 205 - -(_b_) The ancient gods in contradistinction from the -new 208 - -[(_α_) The Titan natural potences included among the -older régime 208 - -(_β_) They are the powers of Earth and the stars 208 -without spiritual or ethical content. Prometheus. -The Erinnyes 209 - -(_γ_) The order of these gods is a succession] 215 - -(_c_) The conquest of the older régime of gods 217 - -3. The Positive Conservation of the conditions set up by -Negation 220 - -(_a_) The Mysteries 220 - -(_b_) Preservation of old régime still more obvious in artistic -creations. Illustrations from Greek poetry 221 - -(_c_) The Nature-basis of the later gods. Nature not in -itself divine to the Greek. Illustrations of both -points of view 223 - -CHAPTER II - -THE IDEAL OF THE CLASSICAL TYPE OF ART - -Introduction and Division of subject-matter 229 - -1. The Ideal of Classical Art generally 230 - -(_a_) The Classical Ideal is a creation of free artistic -activity, though it reposes on earlier historical -elements 230 - -[(_α_) The Greek gods are neither the appearance of -mere external Nature, nor the abstraction from -one Godhead 232 - -(_β_) The Greek artist is a poet. But his productive -power is concretely spiritual, not merely capricious 233 - -(_γ_) The relation of the Greek gods to human life. -Illustrations from Homer, etc.] 233 - -(_b_) What is the type of the new gods of Greek art? 235 - -[(_α_) Their concentrated individuality, or substantive -characterization 236 - -(_β_) Their beauty not merely spiritual, but also plastic 237 - -(_γ_) Removal of them from all that is purely finite -into a sphere of lofty blessedness exalted above -mere sensuous shape] 238 - -(_c_) The nature of the external representation. Sculpture, -in its secure self-possession, most suited as -the medium 241 - -2. The Sphere or Cycle of the Individual Gods 242 - -(_a_) What is called the "divine Universum" is here -broken up into particular deities 242 - -(_b_) Absence of an articulate system 243 - -(_c_) The general character of their distinguishing attributes 244 - -3. The particular Individuality of the Gods 246 - -(_a_) The appropriate material for such individualization - -[(_α_) The natural religions of symbolism a primary -source. Illustrations 247 - -(_β_) That of local conditions 250 - -(_γ_) That of the world of concrete fact. Illustrations -from Homer, etc.] 254 - -(_b_) Retention of a fundamental ethical basis 258 - -(_c_) Advance in the direction of grace and charm 259 - -CHAPTER III - -THE DISSOLUTION OF THE CLASSICAL TYPE - -1. Fate or Destiny 261 - -2. Dissolution through the nature of the anthropomorphism -of the gods 263 - -[(_a_) Absence or defect of the principle of subjectivity as -here asserted 263 - -(_b_) The transition to Christian conceptions only found -in more modern art. The prosaic art of the Aufklärung. -Illustrations 266 - -(_c_) The dissolution of classical art in its own province] 270 - -3. Satire 273 - -(_a_) Distinction between the dissolution of classical and -symbolic art 274 - -(_b_) The Satire 276 - -(_c_) The Roman world as the basis of the satire with -illustrations ancient and modern 277 - - -SUBSECTION III - -THE ROMANTIC TYPE OF ART - -INTRODUCTION OF THE ROMANTIC IN GENERAL - -1. The Principle of inward Subjectivity 282 - -2. The steps in the Evolution of the content and form of -the Romantic Principle 283 - -[(_a_) Point of departure deduced from the Absolute viewed -as the determinate existence of a self-knowing -subject of thought and volition. Man viewed as -self-possessed Divine. History of Christ 286 - -(_b_) This process of self-recognition and reconcilement -viewed as a process in which strain and conflict -arise. Death as viewed by Christian and Greek -art contrasted 287 - -(_c_) The finite aspect of subjective life in the secular -interests, the passions, collisions, and suffering, -or enjoyment of the earthly life] 290 - -3. The romantic mode of exposition in relation to its content 291 - -(_a_) The content of romantic viewed relatively to the -Divine extremely restricted. Nature divested of its -association, symbolic or otherwise, with Divinity 291 - -(_b_) Religion the premiss of romantic art in a far more -enhanced degree than in symbolic art. Influence -of the romantic principle on the medium adopted 293 - -(_c_) Two worlds covered by the romantic principle, viz., -the soul-kingdom of Spirit reconciled therein, -and the realm of external Nature from which even -the aspect of ugliness is not excluded. Latter -world only portrayed in so far as soul finds a home -therein] 293 - -Division of subject-matter 295 - -CHAPTER I - -THE RELIGIOUS DOMAIN OF ROMANTIC ART - -1. The Redemption history of Christ 302 - -(_a_) The principle of Love as paramount in this religious -sphere. How far Art in such a sphere is a superfluity 303 - -(_b_) From a certain aspect the appearance of Art is -necessary 303 - -(_c_) The aspect of contingency in the particularity of an -individual Person as such Divine 304 - -[(_α_) The presentment by artists of the exterior personality -of Christ 304 - -(_β_) The conflict inherent in the religious growth, -viewed as a process, though determining that -process universally, is concentrated in the history -of _one_ person in the first instance 306 - -(_γ_) The feature of death only regarded here as a -point of transition to self-reconcilement] 308 - -2. Religious Love 309 - -(_a_) Conception of the Absolute as Love 309 - -(_b_) Form of Love as self-concentrated emotion. Affiliation -of such with sensuous presentment 310 - -(_c_) Love as the Ideal of romantic art 310 - -[(_α_) Christ as Divine Love 311 - -(_β_) Form most compatible with Art the love of -mother. Mary, mother of Jesus 311 - -(_γ_) Love of Christ's disciples and the Christian community] 313 - -3. The Spirit of the Community 313 - -(_a_) The Martyrs 315 - -(_b_) Penance and conversion within the soul 320 - -(_c_) Miracles and Legends 323 - -CHAPTER II - -CHIVALRY - -Introduction 325 - -1. Honour 332 - -(_a_) Notion of same. Contrast between Greek and -modern art in this respect 332 - -(_b_) Vulnerability of same 335 - -(_c_) Reparation demanded. Honour a mode of self-subsistency -which is self-reflective 336 - -2. Love 337 - -(_a_) Fundamental conception of. Illustrations from -poetry 337 - -(_b_) Collisions of the same 341 - -[(_α_) That between honour and love 341 - -(_β_) That between the supreme spiritual forces of -state, family, etc., and love 342 - -(_γ_) Opposition between love and external conditions -in the prose of life and the prejudice of -others] 342 - -(_c_) Limitation of contingency inherent in the conception -itself 343 - -3. Fidelity 345 - -(_a_) Loyalty of service 346 - -(_b_) The nature of its co-ordination with a social order -either in the world of Chivalry or the modern 347 - -(_c_) Nature of its collisions. Illustrations. The "Cid," -etc. 348 - -CHAPTER III - -THE FORMAL SELF-STABILITY OF PARTICULAR -INDIVIDUALITIES - -Introduction 350 - -1. The Self-subsistence of individual Character 354 - -(_a_) The formal stability of character 355 - -(_b_) Character viewed as an inward but undisclosed -totality. Illustrations from Shakespeare 359 - -(_c_) The substantial interest in the display of such formal -character. Shakespeare's vulgar characters, and -the geniality of their presentment 365 - -2. The Spirit of Adventure 367 - -(_a_) The contingent nature of ends and collisions 368 - -[(_α_) Christian Chivalry in its conflict with Moors, -Arabs, and Mohammedans. Crusades. Holy Grail 369 - -(_β_) The universal spirit of adventure in the personal -experience of individuals. Dante and the "Divine -Comedy" 371 - -(_γ_) The contingency within the soul due to love, -honour, and fidelity] 371 - -(_b_) The comic treatment of such contingency. Ariosto -and Cervantes, contrast between 372 - -(_c_) The spirit of the novel or romance 375 - -3. The Dissolution of the Romantic type 377 - -(_a_) The artistic imitation of what is directly presented by Nature 379 - -[(_α_) Naturalism in poetry. Diderot, Goethe, and -Schiller 381 - -(_β_) Dutch _genre_ painting 382 - -(_γ_) Interest in objects delineated related to artistic -personality] 385 - -(_b_) Individual Humour 386 - -(_c_) The end of the romantic type of Art 388 - -[(_α_) Conditions under which it is possible for the -artist to bring the Absolute before the aesthetic -sense 389 - -(_β_) The position of Art at the present day. Analogous -position of modern artist and dramatist 391 - -(_γ_) General review of previously evolved process -of Art's typical structure. What is possible for -modern art and the conditions necessary. Illustration -of the terminus of romantic art with the -nature of the Epigram. Supreme function of Art] 394 - - - - -SECOND PART - - -EVOLUTION OF THE IDEAL IN THE PARTICULAR TYPES OF FINE ART - - - - -THE PHILOSOPHY OF FINE ART - - -INTRODUCTION - - -All that has hitherto been the object of our examination in the -first part of this inquiry referred to the reality of the Idea of -the beautiful as Ideal of art. In whatever direction, however, we -developed the notion of the ideal art-product, we throughout applied -to it a meaning of purely general signification. But the idea of the -beautiful implies a totality likewise of essential differences, which -as such must in veritable form assert themselves. These differences we -may broadly describe as the _particular modes_ of art, as the evolved -content of that which is implied in the notion of the Ideal, and which -secures actual form through art. When, however, we speak of these -forms of art as of distinct species or grades[1] of the Ideal, we do -not accept the term in the ordinary usage of it as though we found -here in external guise particular classes of objects related to and -modifying the Ideal respectively as their common genus. Species in the -sense used here simply expresses the various and continuously expanding -determination of the idea of the beautiful and the Ideal of art itself. -The universality of the ideal representation is in the case posited not -determined on the side of external existence, but is assumed to be the -closer determination of itself in the explication of its own notion; -or, in other words, it is the notion itself which unfolds itself in a -totality of particular types of art. - -More closely regarded, then, the specific types of art have their -origin, as the unfolded realization of the Idea of the beautiful, in -the very nature of the Idea itself, which by means of them presses -forward to real and concrete appearance. Moreover, just in so far as it -ceases to expand[2] in the abstract determination or concrete fulness -of any one of them, it manifests itself in some other form of realized -expression. For the Idea is only Idea in its essential truth in so far -as it proceeds in this self-evolution by means of its own activity. -And inasmuch as it is, as Ideal, immediate appearance, and moreover -with each mode thereof is still identical as the idea of the beautiful, -we find that in every particular phase which reveals the Ideal in its -process of self-explication we have another actual manifestation which -is immediately related to the essential characterization of those -diverse types of yet further expansion. It really is a matter of no -consequence whether we regard this process as a process of the Idea -within its own substance, or that of the form under which it attains -determinate existence, inasmuch as both aspects are immediately bound -up with each other, and the perfecting of the Idea as content, and the -perfecting of its form are but two ways of expressing the same process. -Or, to put the matter in the reverse way, the defects of a given form -of art of this kind betray themselves as a defect of the Idea, in so -far as such defects give a limited significance to the essential nature -of the Idea in external form, and as such invest it with reality. -When we consequently compare such still inadequate forms of art with -what most obviously presents itself for comparison, that is, the true -Ideal, we must be careful not to use expressions commonly applicable to -works of art that are failures, which either express nothing at all, -or have discovered an incompetence to express what ought to have been -expressed. Rather for every form of the Idea there is a definite mode -of appearance, which clothes it precisely in one of those particular -forms of art to which we have adverted, adequate in every respect -thereto, and the defective or perfected character of which consists -entirely in the relative truth or untruth of the determinate form, -under which and through which the Idea is actually realized. For the -content must first be clothed with reality and concreteness before it -can attain to the form wholly adequate to its essential truth. As we -have already indicated in the previous division of our subject-matter, -we have three fundamental forms or types of art to examine. - -_First_, we have the _symbolical._ In this the Idea is still seeking -for its true artistic expression, because it is here still essentially -abstract and undetermined, and consequently has not mastered for itself -the external appearance adequate to its own substance, but rather finds -itself in unresolved opposition to the external objects in physical -Nature and the world of mankind. And inasmuch as in this crude relation -to objective existence it immediately surmises its own isolation, or -is carried into some form of concrete existence by means, of universal -characteristics which are void of all true definition, it vitiates and -falsifies the actual forms of reality which it has found, and which -it seizes in a wholly capricious way[3]. And, consequently, instead -of being able to identify itself completely with the object, it can -only assert a kind of accord, or rather a still abstract reflection of -significance and figure, a mode of representation which, being neither -complete in its artistic fusion, nor capable of being completed, -suffers the object to emerge as reciprocally external, strange, and -inadequate to itself as it was before. - -_Secondly_, we have the form in which the Idea, here in accordance -with its true notional activity, is carried beyond the abstraction and -indeterminacy of general characterization[4], is conscious of itself -as free and infinite subjectivity, and grasps that self-conscious life -in its real existence as Spirit (Mind). Spirit, as the free subject of -consciousness, is self-determined through its own resources, and even -in this its conscious grasp of self-determination possesses a form of -externality adequate to express it, and one in which the essential -import of that consciousness can be united with an explicit reality -entirely appropriate. This second type of art, the _classical_, is -based upon such absolutely homogeneous unity of content and form. In -order, however, to make this unity complete the human spirit, in so -far as it makes itself the object of art, must not be taken as Spirit -in the absolute significance we refer to it, where it discovers its -adequate subsistence wholly in the _spiritual_ resources of its own -essential domain, but rather as a still _individualized_ spirit, and as -such charged with a certain aspect of isolation. In other words, the -free individual which classical art unites to its forms appears, it is -true, as essentially universal, and consequently freed from all the -mere contingence and particularity both of the subjective world of mind -and the external world of Nature. But it is at the same time permeated -by a universality which is itself essentially individualized. For the -external form is necessarily both defined and singular by virtue of -its externality, which it is only capable of completely fusing with an -artistic content by representing that content as itself defined, and -consequently of a limited character; and, moreover, it is only Spirit -that is thus particularized which can pass into an objective shape and -unite itself with the same in an inseparable unity. - -In this form Art has reached the fulness of its own notion to this -extent, namely, that the Idea, which is here spiritual individuality, -brought into immediate accord with itself in the form of its bodily -presence, receives from it a presentation so complete, that external -existence is no longer able to preserve its consistency as against the -ideal significance which it serves to express; or, to put it in the -reverse way, the spiritual content is exclusively manifested in the -elaborated form within which Art clothes it for sensuous perception, -and thereby affirmatively asserts itself in the same. - -_Thirdly_, we have the form in which the Idea of beauty grasps its -own being as _absolute_ Spirit, Spirit, that is to say, in the full -consciousness of its untrammelled freedom. But for this very reason -it is unable any more to obtain complete realization in forms which -are external; its true determinate existence is now that which it -possesses in itself as Spirit. That unity of the life of Spirit and -its external appearance which we find in classical art is unbound, -and it flees from the same once more into itself. It is this recoil -which presents to us the fundamental type of the _romantic_ type of -art. Here we find, by reason of the free spirituality which pervades -the content, such content makes a more ideal demand upon expression -than the mere representation through an external or physical medium -is able to supply; the form on its external side sinks therefore to -a relation of _indifference_; and in the romantic form of art we -consequently meet with a separation between content and form as we -previously found it in the symbolic form, with this difference that -it is now due to the subordination of matter to spiritual expression -rather than the predominance of externality over ideal significance. -It is in this way that symbolic art _seeks_ after that perfected unity -of ideal significance and external form, which classical art in its -representation of substantive individuality succeeds in _communicating_ -to sensuous perception, and which romantic art _passes over and beyond_ -through its overwhelming insistence on the claims of Spirit. - -[Footnote 1: _Art._ Hegel takes the ordinary scientific sense to -describe the meaning. The word "type" would more truly express it.] - -[Footnote 2: _Für sich selber ist._ That is, having arrived at one form -of determination, returns upon itself and throws off another form, just -as the plant germ after arriving at the leaf expands into the bud, and -so on.] - -[Footnote 3: That is, with no reference to intelligent principle.] - -[Footnote 4: _Allgemeiner Gedanken._ Hegel means the bare -generalizations or abstract conceptions of thought.] - - - - -SUBSECTION I - -THE SYMBOLIC TYPE OF ART - -INTRODUCTION - -OF THE SYMBOL GENERALLY - -Symbol, in the signification we here attach to the word, is not -merely the beginning of art from the point of view of its notional -development, but marks also its first appearance in history. We -may consequently regard it as only the forecourt of art, which is -principally the possession of the East, and through which, after a -variety of transitional steps and mediating passages, we are at last -introduced to the genuine realization of the Ideal in the classical -type of art. We must therefore from the very first take care to -distinguish symbol where its unique characteristics provide it with an -independent sphere of its own, in which it determines the radical and -effective type of a certain form of art's exposition and presentment -from that kind of symbolic expression which amounts to no more than -a purely external aspect of form entirely without such independent -significance. In the latter sense we, in fact, come across it in -the classical and romantic forms of art just as certain aspects of -symbolical art are not wholly without the characteristic features -of the classical Ideal, or present to us the origins of romantic -art. Such reciprocal interplay between the fundamental forms of art -attaches, however, merely to subsidiary images or isolated traits; it -has no power whatever to modify, still less to expunge, the animating -principle which essentially determines the character of the entire work -of art. - -In such cases where we find symbol elaborated in its entirely unique -and independent form it is as a general rule characterized by the -quality of the _sublime_, because its main impression is to show us the -Idea still united to measureless dimension rather than rounded in a -free and self-defined content; it would fain clothe itself with form, -and yet is unable to secure in the substantial appearances of the world -a definite form which is entirely adequate to express the abstractness -and universality of its longing. On account of this inability to attain -its purpose the Idea passes over and beyond the external existence -which surrounds it instead of penetrating to the core or completely -making its home therein. And this flight beyond the limits of the -finite and visible world is precisely that which constitutes the -general character of the sublime. - -But before we proceed further it will be convenient, by way of -elucidating the formal aspect of our subject, to explain at once, if in -quite general terms, what we understand by the expression symbol. - -Generally speaking, symbol is some form of external existence -immediately presented to the senses, which, however, is not accepted -for its own worth, as it lies thus before us in its immediacy, but -for the wider and more general significance which it offers to our -reflection. We may consequently distinguish between two points of -view equally applicable to the term; first, the _significance_, and, -secondly, the mode in which such significance is _expressed_. The -_first_ is a conception of the mind, or an object which stands wholly -indifferent to any particular content, the _latter_ is a form of -sensuous existence or a representation of some kind or other. - -1. Symbol, then, is in the first place a _sign._ When we speak of the -significant and nothing more there is no necessary connection between -the thing signified and its _modus_ of expression whatever. This -manner of its expression, this sensuous thing or image, so far from -being immediately called up by that for which it is the sign, rather -presents itself to the imagination as a wholly foreign content to it, -by no means necessarily associated with it in a unique way. So, for -example, in language tones are signs of specific conditions of idea -or emotion. By far the greater number of the tones of any language -are, however, associated with the ideas, which are thereby expressed -entirely by chance, so far as the content of those ideas is concerned, -even though the history of the development of language may show us that -the original connection between the two was of a different nature, and -that an essential element in the difference between one language and -another consists in this, that the same idea is expressed through a -different sound. Another example of such bare signs are colours[5], -which we used in cockades or flags in order to express the nationality -of an individual or vessel. Such colours by themselves alone carry -no particular quality which can be immediately related to the thing -they signify, that is, the nation which they represent. In a sense -such as this, where the bond between the signification and the sign is -one of _indifference_, symbol must not be understood when we connect -the expression with art. For art consists precisely in the reciprocal -relation, affinity, and substantive fusion of significance and form. - -2. We must consequently interpret sign in a different sense when we -speak of it as equivalent to symbol. The lion is, for example, a symbol -of magnanimity, the fox symbolizes cunning, the circle eternity, -the triangle the Triune God. Here we find that the lion and the fox -themselves possess the qualities whose import they serve to express. In -the same way the circle points beyond the mere indefinite extension, or -the capriciously fixed limit of a straight line, or any other line that -does not return upon itself, and which at the same time is suitable as -the expression of a definite period of time; and the triangle regarded -as a _totality_ possesses the same number of sides and angles as is -involved in the idea of God, when the determinations under which -the religious consciousness defines the Supreme Being are expressed -numerically. - -In the latter forms of symbol therefore the objects presented to the -senses have already in their own existence that significance, to -represent and express which they are used; symbol as employed in this -expanded sense is consequently no purely indifferent mark for something -other than itself, but a significant fact which in its own external -form already presents the content of the idea which it symbolizes. -At the same time it is not the concrete thing it is itself, which it -should bring before the imagination, but simply that general quality of -significance which attaches to it. - -3. We would, thirdly, draw attention to the fact that although symbol -may not, as is the case with the purely external and formal sign, be -wholly inadequate to the significance derived from it, yet, in order -that it may retain its character as symbol, it must on the other hand -present an aspect which is strange to it. In other words, though the -content which is significant, and the form which is used to typify -it in respect to a _single_ quality, unite in agreement, none the -less the symbolical form must possess at the same time still _other_ -qualities entirely independent of that _one_ which is shared by it, -and is once for all marked as significant, just as the content[6] -need not necessarily be a bare abstract quality such as strength or -cunning, but rather a concrete substance, which on its side, too, -possesses a variety of characteristics which distinguish it from the -primary quality in which its symbolic character consists, and in the -same way, but to a still greater degree, from everything else that -characterizes the symbolical form. The lion, for example, possesses -other qualities than mere strength, the fox than mere cunning, and -the apprehension of God is not necessarily bound up with conceptions -which imply number. The content, therefore, as thus viewed, is also -placed in a relation of _indifference_ to the symbolical form, which -represents it, and the abstract quality which it typifies may quite -possibly be present in countless other existing objects. In the same -way a content which is thus varied in its composition may possess -many qualities, to symbolize any of which other forms will equally -serve where a similar correspondence with such is apparent. The same -reasoning is also applicable to the external object in which any -particular content[7] is symbolically expressed. Such an object, in -its concrete natural existence, possesses a number of characteristics -for all of which it may stand as the symbol. The most obvious symbol -for strength is unquestionably the lion, but the ox and the horn of -the ox may equally serve as such, and from other points of view the ox -possesses many other qualities as significant. But few objects, if any, -have been brought home to the imagination with such a prodigal wealth -of symbolic form and imagery as that of the Supreme Being. We may -conclude, then, from the above remarks that the use of the term symbol -is necessarily[8] and essentially open to _ambiguity._ - -(_a_) For, in the first place, no sooner do we look for some symbol -than the doubt almost invariably arises whether a _particular form is -to be accepted as a symbol or no_; and this is so, though we set on one -side the further ambiguity with reference to the _particular_ nature of -the content, which a given form under all the _variety_ of its aspects -may be held to symbolize, many of which may be employed symbolically -through associating links that do not appear on the surface[9]. - -Now what a symbol primarily offers us is generally speaking a form, an -image, which of itself is the presentment of an immediate fact. Such -immediate existence, or its image, a lion for example, an eagle, or a -particular colour, stands there before us as it is, a valid existing -fact. The question consequently arises whether a lion, whose image is -set before us, merely is set there to express the natural fact, or -whether in addition to this it carries a further significance, that is -the more abstract connotation of mere strength, or the more concrete -one of a hero or a period of the year, husbandry and anything else we -choose to infer from it; whether in fact, as we say, the image is to be -taken literally, or with a further ideal significance, or possibly only -with the latter. The last case finds its illustration in symbolical -expressions of speech and particular words such as comprehension, -conclusion[10] and others of the same kind. When such signify mental -activities we have simply set before us the immediate import of a -mental activity and no more without any recall to our memory of the -material acts, which originally were implied in the meaning of these -words. When on the contrary the picture of a lion is presented us we -have not merely the significance to consider which it may bear as -symbol, but also the bodily shape and presence of the king of beasts -before our eyes. An ambiguity of this nature can only fully disappear -when the sense attached to both aspects, namely, symbolical import, and -its external form, is expressly stated, and we learn by this means the -exact relation which exists between them. In that case, however, the -concrete fact which is set before us ceases to be a symbol in the real -meaning of the term, and becomes simply an image, the relation of which -to significance is expressed by the well-known form of comparison, -namely, _simile._ In the simile, that is to say, both factors are -immediately presented to us, the general conception and its concrete -image. When on the contrary reflection has not proceeded so far as to -hold general conceptions in assured independence, and consequently to -set them forth by themselves, in that case we find that the sensuous -image to which they are cognate, and in which a significance of more -general[11] import is able to find its expression is not yet conceived -as separate from such a significance, but both are still immediately -held together in unity. And this it is which, as we shall see more -closely as we proceed, constitutes the distinction between symbol -and comparison. An illustration of the latter kind may be found in -that exclamation of Karl Moor, as he gazes on the setting sun: "Thus -dies a hero!" Here we see that the ideal significance is expressly -separated from the sensuous impression while at the same time it is -associated with the picture. In other cases, it is true even of similes -this act of separation in relation is not so clearly marked, and the -association appears to be more immediate; in such cases it must already -appear manifest from the general content of the narrative, from the -position assigned to the picture, or other circumstances, that viewed -as merely a statement of fact, such an image is not justified, but that -some special significance or other, which cannot fail to arrest our -attention, is intended by it. When, for example, Luther says: - -/$ - A steadfast stronghold is our God. -$/ - -or we read: - -/$ - In den Ocean schifft mit tausend Masten der Jungling, - Still auf geretteten Boot treibt in den Hafen der Greis[12]. -$/ - -we can have no doubt whatever upon the implied significance, whether -it be of a protection suggested by "stronghold," the world of hopes -and life-plans symbolized in the picture of the ocean and the thousand -masts; or the narrowed aims and possessions with the assured plot of -ground at the end, which is reflected from the boat and the haven. In -the same way when we read in the Old Testament: "May God break their -teeth in their mouth, may the Lord shatter the hindermost teeth of the -young lions," it is obvious that neither the words "mouth," "teeth," -nor "hindermost teeth of the young lions" are used in the literal -sense, but are utilized as images and sensuous ideas, which carry a -significance only present to the mind, and that such _significance_ is -all that matters. - -This ambiguity, then, is all the more conspicuous in the case of -symbolical representation for the reason that an image, which carries -a particular significance, only receives the descriptive name of -_symbol_ when such significance ceases to be expressly marked by -itself, or is otherwise clearly emphasized as it is in the case of the -simile. No doubt the ambiguity of the genuine symbol is to this extent -removed in that by virtue of this very uncertainty the fusion of the -sensuous image and its significance becomes a matter more or less of -convention and custom, a feature which is indispensably necessary in -the case where mere signs are used, while on the other hand the simile -asserts itself as something individual, discovered on the spur of the -moment to assist the meaning, and is independently clear, because it -emphasizes the significance alongside of that independence. At the same -time, though no doubt the symbol may be clear enough to those who are -habituated to its use, and whose imaginative life is at home in such -a conventional atmosphere, it is a very different matter with all who -are outside this native circle, or for whom it is now a thing of the -Past; for such it is only the immediate sensuous representation which -is in the first instance seized, and it remains for these in every way -a question of doubt, whether they are to rest satisfied with that which -lies openly before their eyes, or are to accept these as indicators to -yet further imagery or ideas. When, for example, we gaze in Christian -churches upon the _triangle_ in some conspicuous position on the walls, -we at once recognize that the intention is not to place before the -view this geometrical figure simply as such, but rather to draw our -attention to its spiritual significance. If, however, we were to find -it elsewhere we should probably feel equally certain that such a figure -had no reference whatever, either as sign or symbol, to the Trinity. -On the other hand a folk strange to the ideas which have grown up in -Christian countries might easily feel doubts in both cases, and it is -by no means easy for ourselves to determine with equal certainty in all -cases, whether a figure of this kind is to be understood as presenting -us with its literal or symbolical interpretation. - -(_b_) Moreover this ambiguity does not merely apply to isolated -cases, but extends to vast areas of the entire domain of art, to the -content of an almost unlimited material open to our inspection, to the -content in full of all that Oriental art has ever produced. For this -reason, as we enter for the first time the world of ancient Persian, -Indian, or Egyptian figures and imaginative conceptions we experience -a certain feeling of uncanniness, we wander at any rate in a world -of _problems._ These fantastic images do not at once respond to our -own world; we are neither pleased nor satisfied with the immediate -impression they produce on us; rather we are instinctively carried -forward by it to probe yet further into their significance, and to -inquire what wider and profounder truths may lie concealed behind such -representations. In other productions of the same kind it is apparent -at the first glance that they are, just like so many fairy tales of -children, merely an interplay of pictorial fancy, a strange texture of -curiosities woven together at haphazard. For children delight in just -such an even surface of pictures, a play of the fancy which makes no -demand on effort or intelligence, but is simply a collection tumbled -together. Nations on the contrary, even in their childhood, require as -the food of their imaginative life a more essential content; and this -is just what in fact we find in the figures of Indian and Egyptian art, -although the interpretation of such problematical pictures is only -dimly suggested, and we experience great difficulty in deciphering it. - -Even in the province of classical art we meet now and again with a like -uncertainty, though it is the essence of classical art to be throughout -clear and intelligible on its own surface without the use of symbolism -of any kind. And this clarity of classical art consists in this that -it comprehends the true content of Art, in other words substantive[13] -subjectivity, and thereby discovers at the same time the true form, -which essentially expresses nothing less than this genuine content, -so that what it appears to mind, the significance that is of it is -just that, which is veritably expressed in the external form, both the -ideal aspect and the plastic shape being entirely adequate to each -other; in symbolical art, the simile, and other forms of that kind, -the image always brings before perception something in addition to -that significance, for which it merely serves as the picture. At the -same time classical art, too, presents us with an aspect of ambiguity. -In considering the mythological phantasies of antique art it is -frequently a matter most difficult to decide, whether we do rightly -in taking such plastic figures simply for what they are, contenting -ourselves with mere wonder over the wealth and charm, which this happy -play of imaginative vigour offers us, for the reason of course that -mythology is generally accepted as nothing but an idle collection -of fairy tales, or whether on the contrary we have still to seek for -a significance of wider range and greater depth. We shall feel the -insistence of such a doubt in exceptional force where the content of -these fables refers directly to the life and activity of the Divine, -in cases, that is, where the stories handed down to us can only be -regarded as utterly unworthy of the Supreme Being, indicative of an -invention as entirely inadequate as it is in the worst possible taste. -When we read, for example, the twelve labours of Hercules, or, to take -a stronger case, are informed that Zeus hurled Hephaestus from Olympus -on to the island of Lemnos, with the result that Vulcan remained lame -ever after, we are no doubt ready to believe that the entire story is -nothing but a fairy tale of the imagination. It is just as possible to -believe that all the love affairs of Zeus are mere freaks of a prodigal -fancy. But, on the other hand, for the very reason that such stories -are told about the Supreme Divinity, it is quite equally credible that -meaning of more universal import is hidden under that which such myths -immediately transmit to us. - -With regard to such facts as those above stated, there are two -theories current of exceptional importance and contradictory to each -other. The one accepts mythology as a collection of stories of purely -external significance, which as such could not fail to be unworthy -presentations of the Divine nature, though able, when regarded -apart from such associations, to reveal to us much that is finely -conceived, delightful, interesting, nay, even of great beauty. They -offer us, however, no ground whatever for attempting to enlarge their -significance. In this view mythology is in the form in which it is -presented purely _historical_: under one aspect, that is, treating it -as art, in its shapes, pictures, gods, together with all the practical -activities and events it describes, it is amply self-sufficient, -or rather by the way it brings before us that which is significant -supplies its own elucidation; from another point of view, that is to -say, its origin in history, we have to regard it as built up from -local claims, no less than the chance caprice of priest, artist, and -poet, the facts of history, foreign legends and traditions. The theory -which is _opposed_ to the above is unable to rest satisfied with the -purely external husk of mythological form and narration, and insists -on discovering beneath it a meaning of more universal and profounder -import, to master which, as it breaks upon the surface, it conceives to -be the main object of mythological inquiry regarded as the scientific -examination of the mythos. In this view mythology must necessarily be -apprehended as bound up with _symbolism._ And by symbolism all that is -meant here is just this, that however bizarre, ridiculous, grotesque -such myths appear to be, however much the adventitious caprice of a -plastic imagination may contribute to their form, they are essentially -a birth of Spirit; and in spite of it all contain in them significant -ideas, that is, thoughts of universal significance upon the nature of -God; they are, in short, _Philosophemes._[14] In this latter sense -the recent work of Creuzer on symbolism is particularly noteworthy; -this writer has once more taken up the review of the mythological -conceptions of the ancient world, not, as is so frequently the fashion, -from the external and prosaic standpoint, or simply with the object of -determining this artistic merit, but rather expressly to elucidate the -intrinsic rationality of their substance. Such an inquiry proceeds from -the presupposition that myths and fabulous tales have their origin in -the human spirit, which is capable, no doubt, of playing freely with -its notions of gods, but in its religious interest marks the point -where it enters a more exalted sphere, in which reason itself is the -discoverer of form, albeit it is charged with the defect of being -unable at this early stage to exhibit the core from which it grows with -commensurate power. And this assumption is essentially just. Religion -discovers its fountain-head in Spirit, which seeks after its truth, -dimly discovers it, bringing the same to consciousness by means of -any form, which displays an affinity with this form of truth, be it a -form of narrower or wider borders. But once grant that it is reason -which seeks after such forms, and the necessity is obvious to recognize -the work of reason. Such a recognition is alone truly worthy of human -inquiry. Whoever shelves this problem makes himself master of nothing -but a motley show of unrelated learning. If we, on the other hand, -probe into, the truth of mythological conceptions as it presents itself -to mind, without at the same time excluding from our grasp that other -aspect of them, that is, the haphazard caprice therein exercised by -the imagination, and all the external influences, local or otherwise, -which have contributed to this creation, we shall then be in a position -to justify the various systems of mythology. To justify the work of -man in the imagery and forms that are the product of his spirit is -a noble enterprise, of rarer worth than the mere heaping together -of the external facts of history. The objection has no doubt been -pressed against Creuzer that here, treading in the steps of the new -Platonists[15], the wider significance he elucidates from the myths is -a creation he attaches to them himself; that, in short, he discovers -conceptions in them which are not merely without any historical basis -to uphold them, but which it can be positively shown he must have -first introduced before he could have found them; in other words it -is asserted that neither the people of such times nor the poets or -priests--although from another point of view emphasis is frequently -laid on the occult wisdom of the priesthood--could have possessed any -knowledge of such ideas, which would have been wholly incompatible -with the prevailing culture. Such objections, of course, are entitled -to their full weight. These peoples, poets, and priests have not, in -fact, been conscious of universal conceptions in the particular form of -universality which the human mind now discovers at the root of their -mythological ideas, in the sense that they could have deliberately -clothed such conceptions in the forms of symbolism. And as a matter -of fact this is never maintained even by Creuzer. But however true it -may be that the reflections of the ancient world over its mythology -were entirely different from those of the modern, we are by no means -therefore entitled to conclude that the conceptions of its mythology -are not essentially symbolical, and as such must be fully accepted; -rather our inference should be that in the times when these peoples -created the poetry of their myths, from the midst of a life itself -steeped in poetry, they would instinctively bring home to consciousness -all that was most spiritual and profound in that life in the forms of -the imagination rather than that of reflection, and fail to separate -conceptions which were more universal or abstract from the concrete -creations of their phantasy. That this really was the case is a fact -which we have in this inquiry to accept as fundamentally established; -we may, nevertheless, be equally prepared to admit that, in such a form -of interpretation as the symbolical, theories are apt to slip in which -are merely the product of artifice and ingenuity, much as is the case -with etymological science. - -(_c_) At the same time, however much we may find ourselves in general -agreement with the view that mythology, with its tales of the gods -and its circumstantial pictures of a persistently poetic imagination, -includes within its borders a content, that is to say rational and -profound religious conceptions, it is still open to us to ask in our -examination of the symbolical form of art whether for the same reason -all mythology and art is to be interpreted in a _symbolical sense_, in -accordance with that typical assertion of Friedrich von Schlegel, to -the effect that we are bound to look for an allegory in every artistic -representation. The symbolical or allegorical is then understood in the -sense that a general conception[16] is assumed to underlie every work -of art as its motive principle and every mythological form, by bringing -the universal character of which into prominence it should then be -possible to expound the real significance of such a work or imaginative -creation. This mode of treatment is, moreover, very commonly adopted -in our own days. We find, for instance, in the more recent editions -of Dante a marked tendency to interpret every canto in an exclusively -allegorical sense, and no doubt the poetry of Dante contains many -examples of such allegories. In the same way Heyne's editions of the -classical poets evince the same disposition in their commentaries to -elucidate the general significance of every metaphorical expression by -means of the abstract conceptions of the understanding. Nor is this to -be wondered at; for it is just this faculty which is most ready to -seize upon symbol and allegory, while at the same time it separates -the sensuous image from its significance, and by so doing destroys the -unity of the artistic form, an aspect over which it is, in its zeal -for a symbolical interpretation, which aims exclusively at setting the -universal characteristic as such in relief, wholly indifferent. - -Such an extension of symbolism over every province of mythology and art -is by no means that which we have in view in our present consideration -of the symbolical form of art. It is not any part of our labours to -ascertain to what extent a symbolical or allegorical significance, in -this enlarged use of the term, is applicable to the forms of art. On -the contrary we shall restrict ourselves entirely to the question how -far symbolism itself is entitled to rank as a form of art; and the -question is raised in order that we may finally determine the precise -relation which subsists between artistic significance and artistic -form in so far as such a relation is symbolical and stands in contrast -to other modes of artistic presentation, in particular those of the -classical and romantic art-forms. We must consequently endeavour before -everything else expressly to limit the field of our review to that -portion where we find the symbolical is independently portrayed in its -essential character and is open to our consideration as such, rather -than attempt to make a symbolical interpretation co-extensive with -the entire domain of art. And it is consistently with such a purpose -that we have already subdivided the Ideal of art under its respective -symbolical, classical, and romantic forms. - -In the signification we give to the expression the symbolical -disappears at the point where we find that a free subjectivity rather -than purely abstract conceptions determines the content of the artistic -product. In this case the conscious subject is his own self-assured -significance, his own self-manifestation. All that he feels, conceives, -does, and perfects, his qualities, his actions, and his character, -all this he actually is himself; the entire gamut of his spiritual -and sensuous manifestation has no further significance than that of -declaring his subjective unity, which, in this process of expansion -and development of its own wealth, brings before the eyes of all the -man himself as master over the entire field of objective reality -thus presented to him, the world in which he discovers his existence. -Significance and sensuous presentment, inward and outward reality, -fact and picture, are here no longer separate from each other, assert -themselves here no longer as merely cognate, the characteristic -distinction of the symbolic relation, but rather as a totality, in -which the manifestation possesses no other reality, the reality no -other manifestation either outside of or alongside with itself. That -which declares itself and that which is declared is here posited[17] in -its concrete unity. In this sense the gods of Greece, in so far, that -is to say, as the art of Greece was able to represent them as free, -self-subsistent, and unique types of personality, are to be accepted -from no symbolical point of view, but as self-sufficient in their own -persons. The actions of Zeus, for example, of Apollo or Athene are -actions appropriated by Art to themselves and only themselves, and must -not be allowed to stand for anything but the might and passion of such -personages. If we once attempt to abstract from free individualities -of this kind some general conception as the essential core of their -significance, setting it alongside their concrete particularity as -an interpretation of their entire and individual manifestation, we -let fall or annihilate all that we have failed to observe, and it is -precisely all in these figures which art seeks most to secure. For -this reason artists have been unable to take kindly to such symbolical -interpretations of all works of art and the mythological figures we -find in them. For all that is left us in the sphere of art we have just -been considering which is really compatible with an interpretation -based on symbolism or allegory only affects subsidiary aspects, -and is for that reason expressly limited to the attribute and the -representative signs; the eagle, for example, stands by Zeus, an ox is -the companion of the evangelist Luke; the Egyptians, on the contrary, -beheld in the form of Apis the Divine itself. - -The point so difficult to decide in connection with this manifestation -of self-conscious freedom, otherwise so appropriate to artistic -presentment, is just this, whether that which is placed before us as -such a subject really possesses a subjective individuality of the -above quality, or only carries the mere semblance of it in the form of -a _personified_ shadow[18]. In this latter case personality is nothing -but a superficial form, which fails to express its vital substance in -particular acts no less than bodily form, which would otherwise enable -it to penetrate through all that is external in its appearance as its -own possession, and instead of this still retains another inwardness -for the external reality as its significance, which is not either true -personality or subjective freedom. It is precisely at this point that -we find the boundary which includes or excludes symbolic art. - -Our interest, then, in the consideration of the symbol consists in -this, that we recognize thereby that process within itself where we -find the beginnings of art, in so far as the same proceeds from the -notion of that Ideal which unfolds itself gradually as art in its -truth, and while doing so recognizes each stage of symbolical art as -successive steps which conduct us to the same consummation. However -intimate the connection between religion and art may be we are not here -concerned to pass in review either symbols or religion under the range -which is co-extensive with the wider signification of the word symbol -or emblematical conceptions; we have exclusively to consider that -aspect of them, according to which they belong to art in its own right, -handing over their religious aspect to the historian of mythology and -symbolism. - - - - -DIVISION OF THE SUBJECT - - -In proceeding now to a closer determination of the several divisions -of symbolic art it will be necessary, in the first place, to fix the -boundary lines within which the development of the successive grades -of this type moves forward. Speaking generally, as we have already -observed, the entire sphere we have now to define is in principle a -_forecourt_ of art. We have here, in the first instance, significant -conceptions which are purely abstract, which are still in themselves -destitute of essential individuality, the immediate artistic -presentment of which may be as truly described either as adequate or -inadequate[19]. Our first definition of boundary consists, therefore, -in determining generally the earliest modes under which artistic -perception and representation work themselves out[20] into actuality; -on the further side of the line at the other extreme we have real art, -in the direction of which symbolic art uplifts itself as to its truth. - -1. In discussing the origins of this appearance of symbolic art from -the _subjective_ point of view, we may draw attention to an observation -made previously, that the artistic consciousness, no less than the -religious, or rather we should say both in their essential unity, and -we may even include the impulse of scientific inquiry, have originated -in _wonder._ The man who is still unable to wonder at anything lives -in a condition of crassness and obtuseness which is devoid of all -interest, in which for him everything is as naught for the reason that -he fails as yet to separate or unravel himself from objects around him -and their own immediate and independent existence. The man, however, -at the opposite extreme, whose wonder is _no longer_ excited, is the -man who contemplates the entire external world as somewhat which he -has made himself clear about. It may be under the abstract conceptions -of the commonsense understanding resulting in some general survey of -knowledge attainable by the average mind, or it may be in the noble -or profounder consciousness of his own absolute spiritual freedom and -universality. In either case he has converted the bare fact of such -objects and their existence into some spiritual insight of their truth -brought home to himself. We may conclude, then, that wonder originates -in the condition where we find that man, as conscious Spirit, torn away -from his first most immediate association with Nature, and from his -earliest and entirely active[21] relation to desire, steps back from -Nature and his own individual existence, and seeks after and finds in -the objects which surround him a universal, an essential and permanent -principle. Then for the first time the facts of Nature astonish him, -they become for him an other-than-himself he would fain appropriate, -and within which he strives to rediscover his own substance, that is -the universal, thoughts, reason. For the dim foretaste here of a higher -and the consciousness of the external are still unsevered, and this -though a contradiction between the objects of Nature and the Spirit -which perceives them is already present, a contradiction in which these -objects appear to repel him quite as much as they attract, and the -feeling of which, in the force wherewith they thrust him away, is, in -fact, the birth-pang of his very wonder. - -The earliest result of this condition of wonder in man's vision of -Nature is that on the one hand he sets himself in opposition to -Nature and her objective world as a principle[22], and adores her -as Power; on the other he is equally possessed with a desire, which -craves satisfaction, to render objective to himself his intuition of -a higher, essential, and universal somewhat, and to look upon its -rehabilitated presence. In this two-fold aspect of his conscious life -he is confronted by reality in the following way. The particular -objects of Nature, and above all those elementary facts, sea, -rivers, mountains, and constellations, are not received by him in the -singularity of their immediate presentment to sense, but, carried up -into the sphere of imaginative conception, assume for that faculty the -form of universal and essentially self-subsistent existence. And we may -trace the beginning of art in this, that it reflects these ideas of the -imagination thus universalized and essentially independent, in visible -representation for immediate perception, and sets them forth for mind -in the individual form of the same as objects. The mere adoration of -external facts, with its Nature-cult and fetish-cult, is not as yet on -this account an art of any kind. - -Under the aspect in which it is related to the _objective_ world, -the beginnings of art are more intimately associated with religion. -The earliest works of art are of the mythological order. In religion -it is nothing less than the Absolute, which breaks to consciousness -through its own impulse[23], though the determinating factors of -that consciousness be the most abstract and jejune conceivable. -And the earliest _phase in this evolution_ of the Absolute is the -phenomenal presence of Nature, in whose existence man dimly forebodes -the Absolute, and envisages the same for himself in the semblance of -natural objects. In this striving Art discovers its source. We shall -find, however, in this very effort art first made visible, not so -much where the Absolute is descried by human eyes in the external -world which immediately confronts them, a mode of Divine reality in -which they rest content, but rather where man's consciousness evolves -from its own substance a mode of apprehending what it conceives as -the Absolute in the form of a self-subsistent externality, no less -than that objective presentation which he unites with it in more or -less adequate fashion. For we must remember that Art possesses a -substantial content which is grasped by mind (spirit), and which, it -is true, appears in external guise, but for all that in a form of -externality, which is not merely immediately visible to sense, but is -primarily the _product_ of _mind_ regarded as the existing fact which -intrinsically comprehends that content as a whole and then expresses -it. Art is consequently and by virtue of its power to create forms -cognate with its own substance the _first_ interpreter of the religious -consciousness; it, in fact, is the first to make the prosaic view of -the objective world a thing valid to itself[24], when our humanity has -fought itself essentially free as the self-consciousness of Spirit -from the immediacy of sense, and sets itself over against the same in -the strength of the same freedom with which it accepts and understands -that objectivity as simply external fact and no more. This complete -separation of the subject and object of sense-perception is, however, -indicative of a considerably later phase of man's spiritual history. -The first knowledge of truth, on the contrary, declares itself as an -intermediate state between the purely unintelligent absorption of the -individual in Nature and that spiritual condition which is entirely -released from it. This intermediate state, however, in which Spirit -merely envisages for itself its conceptions in the plastic forms of -Nature's objects because it still fails to master any form of higher -significance, although it strives through such association to bring the -two aspects of its experience into one homogeneous whole, is, to put -it in its general terms, the attitude of art and poetry as contrasted -with that of the prosaic understanding. And for this reason we find -that the prosaic consciousness declares itself first in its full bloom, -where, as is the case in the Roman and in later times throughout our -own Christian world, the principle of the subjective freedom of Spirit -is realized in its abstract and actually concrete form. - -2. And, _secondly_, the final _aim_ toward which the effort of symbolic -art is directed, and with the attainment of which the symbolic type -is dissolved, is _classical art._ But although we find in this latter -form the true manifestation of art's essence first elaborated, it is -not the first type of art. Rather it presupposes within its content -all the various mediating and transitional stages of the symbolic form -itself. It is quite true that the essential aim of that content is to -reveal the notion as a rounded and self-defined totality, that is in -its concreteness and actuality as the individuality of Spirit; but -the notion is only then able to declare itself in such concrete form -to conscious life after it has passed through a variety of mediatory -stages forced upon it by the abstract conceptions which the nature of -its own initial impulse presupposes. It is classical art, however, -which brings to a close all the mere preliminary experiments of art in -the direction of symbolism and the sublime[25]. And it is able to do -this inasmuch as the subjective spirit finds in it, as its essential -possession, a form truly adequate to its substance, and in the same -way that the self-determining notion creates from its own potency -the individual existence that fully expresses it. When once Art has -discovered its true content, and by doing so found its true form, its -search and striving after both, wherein the defect of symbolical art -consists, is therewith at an end. - -If we seek further for a closer principle of division of symbolic -art within the limits of the boundaries on either extreme hitherto -discussed, we shall find the same generally under the modes in -accordance with which it contends with the genuine significances of -art and their truly appropriate forms, the battle that is apparent -in a content which is still striving in opposition to the truth of -art, no less than in a form that is equally inadequate to express it. -For both aspects, although externally united in the identity of one -creation, are neither brought completely together themselves, nor -permeated throughout with the notion of art in its truth; and for this -reason they appear quite as much as contestants struggling to be free -from the defects of their union. We may, in short, describe symbolic -art throughout as a continuous war carried on between the comparative -adequacy and inadequacy of its import and form[26]; and the varied -gradations of symbolic art are not so much kinds of specific difference -as they are stages and phases of one and the same incongruity between -the spiritual idea and its sensuous medium. - -At first, however, this contention is only potentially present, that -is to say the incompatibility of these two sides, whose union is thus -affirmed and enforced, is not yet openly present to consciousness. And -this is so for the reason that it neither recognizes for itself in its -universal nature the import which it seizes, nor is able to comprehend -the realized form in its self-subsistent and self-exclusive existence; -consequently, instead of representing to the senses both aspects -in their _difference_, it is content to proceed upon the immediate -appearance of _identity_ which it enforces. In this original _point -of departure_ we have before us the as yet inseparable unity of the -art-form and the symbolical expression it seeks after, fermenting, -as it were, beneath the association of contradictory elements in -mysterious guise--the unity, that is, of the real and primordial -symbolism, whose plastic shapes are as yet not _posited_ as symbols at -all. - -The _termination_ of this process[27], on the other hand, is the -disappearance and dissolution of the symbolic type altogether. The -strife which has hitherto been merely implied in it is now brought -home to the artistic consciousness. The act of symbolization in -consequence becomes the _conscious severation_ of the transparent -significance, which is now recognized for what it is from the sensuous -image cognate with it. In this severation, however, there still remains -an express relation of reciprocity, which, however, declares itself -as such no longer in the mode of immediate identity, but rather as -a mere _comparison_ between the two, in which that differentiation -and separation which in the previous type was not brought clearly -to consciousness still remains as conspicuous a factor. And this is -the sphere of that symbolism where the symbol is recognized as such. -Here we find the artistic import _recognized_ and presented in its -independent universality, whose concrete embodiment is expressly placed -in subordination as an image of that presentment, and no more, and -as such a comparative medium is utilized for the purpose of artistic -representation. - -Halfway between that starting-point above described and this -termination of the symbolic type we find the art of the _sublime._ -In this the essential import, posited as the universality of Spirit -in its absolute self-exclusion, disengages itself in the first place -from concrete existence, permitting the same to appear as a mere -negative, external and subservient factor beside it, which it is unable -to leave, in order that it may express itself in it, standing in its -native self-subsistency. Rather it finds it necessary to declare it -as that which is essentially defective and self-dissolving, and this, -moreover, although it has naught beside as means for its expression -than just this to which it opposes itself as external and nugatory. The -splendour of this import of the sublime may be accepted in the order -of the notional process as previous to that of the mode of genuine -comparison for this reason, that the concrete particularity of natural -and any other phenomena must necessarily be treated in the first place -negatively, merely appropriated, that is to say, as the adornment -and embellishment of the unreachable might of Spirit's absolute -significance, before that express severation and discriminating -comparison of external shapes cognate with, and yet at the same time -distinct from, the import, whose image they reproduce, can assert -itself. - -3. The three principal stages[28] above indicated break up naturally on -closer inspection into the following subdivisions we now summarize in -the chapters which include them. - - - -FIRST CHAPTER - - -A. The _first_ stage which presents itself in this portion of -our subject-matter is as yet neither to be described strictly as -symbolical, nor as belonging strictly to art; it rather clears the road -to both. It is the sphere of the immediately cognized and substantive -unity of the Absolute regarded as spiritual significance with its -unsevered sensuous existence in a form presented by Nature. - -B. In the _second_ stage we pass to the symbol in its real sense; the -dissolution of the first unity above described here commences, and -while, on the one hand, the significances assert themselves in their -independent universality above the particular phenomena of Nature, -on the other they are necessarily forced with a like insistency to -present themselves to consciousness together with this preconceived -universality in the concrete form of natural objects. In this primary -and twofold struggle to spiritualize Nature, and to present that which -is born of Spirit to sense, at this stage of the conflict between -them, we meet with all the ferment and wild, tossed hither and thither -medley, the entire fantastic and confused world that is to say of -symbolic art, which half surmises, it is true, the incongruity of its -manner of shaping, yet is unable to remedy the same save through the -distortion of its figures, while straining after a purely quantitative -sublimity that would fain devour all limits. In this phase consequently -we find ourselves in a world steeped with poetic phantasies, -incredibilities and miracle, yet fail to encounter one work of genuine -beauty. - -C. Owing to this strife between the spiritual significance and its -sensuous presentation, we are conducted _thirdly_ to the stage we -may describe as that of the true symbol, on which the symbolic _work -of art_ for the first time appears in its complete character. The -forms and shapes are here no longer those present to sense, which, -as we saw on the first mentioned stage, were immediately coincident -with the Absolute as their positive existence, without any further -modification at the hands of art; neither, as in the second phase, -are they intent on asserting their unreconciled material against the -universality of the significance merely through extensions of the -quantitative limits of Nature's objects, the ebullitions of a rioting -fancy. Rather the symbolic form, which is here throughout apparent, is -Art's own creation, a work not merely capable of expressing its own -individuality, but from another point of view possessed with the power -of presenting at the same time both the particular object that it is -and the further universal significance with which it is associated, and -which it thereby discloses to the mind, so that these very shapes stand -before us as problems which we are imperatively called upon to unriddle -and probe to the inward charge which they carry. - -We may at once further venture the general remark with reference to -these more clearly defined types of a symbolism still to be ranked as -elementary that they spring from the religious attitude to existence -of entire nations; for which reason it will form part of our plan to -recall their position in history. Not that complete identification of -specific types with a given period is wholly feasible. Rather it would -be truer to say that particular modes of conception and presentation, -when we refer them generally to some kind of artistic type, are mingled -up together, so that we find the specific type, which we have reason to -regard as the fundamental one in any particular nation's general view -of existence, exemplified both in earlier and later peoples[29], though -its repetition may only be discovered in subordinate and isolated -cases. In general, however, we may say that we possess the more -concrete manifestations and visible proofs of the first stage in the -ancient _Persian_ religion of the second in the _Indian_, of the third -in that of _Egypt_. - -SECOND CHAPTER - -In the second chapter that significance, which has hitherto been -more or less obscured by its particular sensuous form, has at last -wrested its way to freedom, and its independent character is brought -clearly to consciousness. With this victory the relation of real -symbolism is dissolved; we have instead, through the way in which the -absolute significance[30] is cognized as the universal _substance_ -interpenetrating the entire extension of the visible world, the art of -the absolute essence[31] in the form of a symbolism of the _sublime_; -and this now takes the place of purely symbolical and fantastic -suggestions, deformities, and riddles. - -We have here mainly two points of view to distinguish which are based -upon differences in the relation of the substantive essence, that is -the Absolute and Divine, to the finitude of the apparent. Or rather we -may say that this relation is capable of being twofold, both _positive_ -and _negative,_ although in both forms, inasmuch as it is in either -case universal substance, which has to appear, it is not the particular -form and import of the objective facts, but their general principle of -animation and their position relatively to this substance which is made -visible to sense. - -A. In the first phase or type this relation is so conceived, that -substance, here the All and the One delivered from every form of -particularity, is immanent in the determinate phenomena as the -animating principle which brings them into being and is their life; -and moreover, it is affirmatively and immediately present to the -vision in this immanence, and is comprehended, and made the object of -representation by the individual who surrenders himself to its presence -through the adoring self-absorption in this indwelling essence of the -entire world of contingent and material things. In this point of view -we have the art of the Pantheism which possesses the Sublime as its -inherent principle, an art such as we find it in its elementary stage -in India, then elaborated in all its splendour in Mohammedanism and -its artistic mysticism, and finally with still profounder significance -reappearing in certain manifestations of Christian mysticism. - -B. The _negative_ relation on the other hand of true Sublimity we must -look for in _Hebraic_ poetry. In this poetry of the Glorious, which -is only concerned to celebrate and exalt the unimaginable Lord of -the heavens and the earth that it may employ His entire creation as -the passing instrument of His Power, as the messengers of His Glory, -as the delight and ornament of His Greatness, this service of His -Creation, be it never so magnificent[32], is deliberately posited as -negative, and this for the reason that it is unable to discover any -adequate or positively sufficient expression for the Power and Dominion -of the Highest, and is only able to attain a genuine satisfaction by -means of the subjection of the creature, which in the feeling and -admission of its unworthiness is alone able with adequacy to express -its insignificance[33]. - -THIRD CHAPTER - -Through this independent self-assertion of significance, made -thus transparent to consciousness in its isolated simplicity, -the _severation_ of the same from the imaged appearance, whose -incommensurability over against it has already been accepted, is now -essentially complete; and albeit, along with the fact of this conscious -separation, both form and import may still persist in the relation -of an intimate affinity, a necessity which is implied in the fact -of their being symbolical art, yet this relation no longer attaches -to either import or form, but is placed now in a _third_ mode of -conception, which according to its own point of view, carries relations -of similarity with both these sides[34], and in reliance on these -relations makes visible and declares the independently transparent -significance by means of the cognate and particular image. - -Owing to this change the image, instead of remaining as it was -previously the unique expression of the Absolute, becomes now merely an -ornament, and we thereby discover a relation which ceases to correspond -with the notion of beauty. In other words image and significance, -instead of being moulded one within the other, confront each other as -opposites, precisely, in fact, as was the case in genuine symbolism, -though then the process remained incomplete. Consequently works of -art which are based on this form are of subordinate rank, and their -content is unable to comprise the Absolute itself, and is necessarily -restricted to circumstances and occurrences of narrower range. For this -reason the forms which are now under discussion are for the most part -merely used occasionally and by way of diversion. - -More closely considered we have in this chapter to distinguish between -three principal stages of our process. - -A. To the _first_ we appropriate those types of presentation commonly -known as _Fable_, _Parable_, and _Apologue._ In these the severation -of form and significance, which constitutes the characteristic trait -of the entire sphere to which this chapter refers, is not as yet -_expressly_ recognized; that is to say, the _subjective_ aspect of -the comparison is not yet fully _emphasized_; consequently also the -representation of the particular and concrete phenomenon, through which -the universal significance is finally to declare itself, still remains -the _predominant_ factor. - -B. In the _second_ stage, on the contrary, the universal _import_ -asserts its independent mastery over the elucidating form, which -now appears merely as _attribute_, or, under the guise of an image, -capriciously selected by the mind which makes the contrast. To this -type belong the _Allegory_, _Metaphor_, and _Simile_. - -C. In the _third_ stage we meet with the visible and complete -_collapse_ of those related aspects in the symbol which previously had -either been immediately joined in union, despite the fact of their -relative incongruity, or in their independent severation had still -persisted under a relation of affinity[35]. Out of this arises that -form of content which is cognized as independent in its prosaic[36] -universality, to which the art-form has become wholly an external -relation; on the one hand we find it represented by the _didactic_ -poem, on the other that very aspect of its external form is accepted -for what it is, and exemplified in so-called _descriptive_ poetry. Here -we find that every association and relation of symbolism has vanished; -we have to look round us for some more comprehensive union of form and -content, and one more truly adequate to the notion of art. - -[Footnote 5: So the French expression _des couleurs_, and our English -"the colours."] - -[Footnote 6: Hegel uses the 'technical term _Inhalt_ in this passage to -signify either (_a_) the quality of significance, or (_b_) the object -which is symbolized by virtue of some selected quality. The use of it -in both senses makes the passage somewhat difficult to follow.] - -[Footnote 7: _Inhalt_ here evidently is the abstract quality.] - -[Footnote 8: Necessarily because such ambiguity is implied in the idea -(_seinem Begriff nach_).] - -[Footnote 9: This, I think, is the sense. The language literally is, -"Which a form under several possible significations, as symbol of any -of which (_deren_) it can be employed often through connecting links -(_Zusammenhänge_) more remote, may be taken to symbolize."] - -[Footnote 10: The German words are _Begreifen_ and _Schliessen_, which -in their original sense are "to grasp with the hand" (_prehendo_) and -"to shut" or "lock up." The English words in a still fainter form carry -the same significance through the Latin language. The symbolism of -language at this stage is obviously only apparent to the student of -language.] - -[Footnote 11: That is, more abstract.] - -[Footnote 12: Or in English: /# Forth on the ocean is shipped Youth -with his thousand sails: Silent in bark barely saved steals into -harbour old age. #/] - -[Footnote 13: _Substantielle_, that is, an artistic consciousness which -is aware of its own essential nature--Spirit, and the object of pure -intelligence--the Ideal.] - -[Footnote 14: Perhaps we should rather say a Theosophy.] - -[Footnote 15: The Alexandrine School, of which Plotinus and Philo are -leading names.] - -[Footnote 16: _Ein allgemeiner Gedanke._ The reference throughout -this paragraph to the universality of the ideas of reflection as -contrasted with the sensuous image is rather a reference to the -abstract conceptions of the analytical mind, that is, which are usually -understood as universals in the sense of generic conceptions, than -any fuller grasp of concrete reality such as possesses a truly ideal -significance. So in its application to the metaphor I imagine what is -meant is that we have here the process of dry analysis which merely -destroys its significance as metaphor, that is, its synthetic unity for -our aesthetic sense.] - -[Footnote 17: _Ist aufgehoben_, here not in the sense of being -cancelled, but raised to the expression of concrete unity.] - -[Footnote 18: _Als blosse Personification_, that is, an -individualization which impersonates the subjective identity without -possessing its concrete substance, a personified shadow like the -sphinx. Such appears to be the sense.] - -[Footnote 19: Because the content for which such shapes (_Gestaltung_) -are given is itself incoherent, and therefore incompatible with -adequate expression.] - -[Footnote 20: _Sichhervorarbeiten._ Our word "elaborate" is here -insufficient. Hegel means the mode in which the Idea of art works -itself free from entirely potential obscurity into a living force, -a real _energeia._ We cannot say "emerges into daylight," however, -because the highest grasp of symbolic art is still only a twilight. It -is like the growth of the plant-germ, still underground, or partially -so.] - -[Footnote 21: _Pracktischen._ Not matter-of-fact relation, but rather a -relation that asserts itself exclusively in action.] - -[Footnote 22: _Als Grund_, that is, as a fundamental unity of the real.] - -[Footnote 23: _Die erste näher gestaltende Dollmetcherin_, lit., the -first interpreter which supplies forms more nearly cognate with itself.] - -[Footnote 24: It is valid (_geltend_) because it introduces there its -own spiritual nature.] - -[Footnote 25: The previous statement of Hegel must not be overlooked, -however, and it may be considerably amplified, that there is much in -romantic art which is related to symbolism and the sublime. Take the -case of the celebrated sculpture of Michael Angelo typifying Night, -Day, Dawn, and Twilight, or such modern pictures as those of Watts's -"The Minotaur" and "The Spirit of Christianity."] - -[Footnote 26: Or rather "between those aspects of its import and form -which are reciprocally homogeneous and those which are not."] - -[Footnote 27: This process of symbolic art.] - -[Footnote 28: _Hauptstufen._ The word signifies either the phase or -grade of a process of development, or to take the metaphor used by -Hegel above (_Stadien_) may perhaps be better translated by "stage," as -though indicating the successive stages of a journey.] - -[Footnote 29: I think _Völkern_ rather than _Zeiten_ must be here -understood, and the sense appears to be that the confusion indicated -refers to a mingling of forms appropriate to a nation in one historical -period with those that are more cognate with a people at any earlier -or it may be later period. But unquestionably this attempt to identify -a type as between different nations with historical periods that will -harmonize with Hegel's own classification is a difficult matter as we -may see by the fact that Egypt, the oldest example of all, represents -the third stage. On the other hand, if the confusion referred to is -applied to the particular development of any one people, the examples -given by Hegel do not bear on the difficulty they illustrate.] - -[Footnote 30: Or rather "the import of the Absolute."] - -[Footnote 31: _Substantiality_, called below _die Substanz_; the word -signifies the real essence of the Absolute.] - -[Footnote 32: The principal clause of this sentence has no end as -printed. The auxiliary must be omitted either before _in diesem -Dienste_ or _eine positive._ I prefer the first alternative.] - -[Footnote 33: The relative here agrees, I think, with _die -Dienstbarkeit_ rather than _die Kreatur_ or _die Poesie._ Hegel says -"compatible with itself and its significance," we should rather say -"its sense of its own insignificance."] - -[Footnote 34: Hegel's words are _sondern in einem subjectiven Dritten_, -_welches in beiden Seiten nach seiner subjectiven Anschauung_, etc. -This "subjective third" is, as explained below, the way in which the -relation between the image and the absolute significance ceases to be -regarded as identical.] - -[Footnote 35: This sentence as it stands is ungrammatical; there is a -change in the construction as it proceeds.] - -[Footnote 36: The prosaic universality is the prose of its form -separated from content. It is prosaic because it is unrelated to the -vitality of the notion.] - - - - -CHAPTER I - - -UNCONSCIOUS SYMBOLISM - - -Now that we pass to the consideration of the several distinctions -of symbolical art in more detail, we have to make a beginning with -the identical beginning of art as it proceeds out of the notion of -art itself. This commencement, as we have seen, is the symbolical -form of art in its still immediate form wherein the appearance, -as purely image or likeness, is neither brought to consciousness -nor presupposed--_unconscious symbolism_, that is to say. Before, -however, we shall be in a position to consider this form in its -genuine symbolical character, it will be necessary to review several -presuppositions which the notion of symbolism itself determines in -order that we may utilize them for the basis upon which the symbol may -unfold itself for scientific apprehension. - -The point from which we make a start may be defined more closely as -follows: - -The fundamental root of the symbol is, regarding it from one aspect, -the immediate union of the universal and thereby spiritual significance -with the form which may at the same time be described as adequate and -inadequate, an inadequacy, however, which is as yet unperceived. This -association, however, must, on the other hand, receive a form from the -_imagination_ and _art_, and must not _merely_ be conceived as a Divine -reality exclusively immediate to sense. By this means the symbolical -originates in the first instance with the _severation_ of a universal -import from the immediate _presence of Nature_, in whose existence the -Absolute is contemplated as actually present. These two aspects supply -us with the preliminary stages for the genuine forms of symbolic art. - -The _first_ presupposition consequently--we may call it the coming -into being of the symbolical--is not that union which is the product -of art, but rather just that immediate unity of the Absolute and True -and its existence, which is discovered in the visible world apart from -art's mediation. - -A. IMMEDIATE UNITY OF SIGNIFICANCE AND FORM - -In this identity of the Divine immediately envisualized, a Divine, -which is brought home to consciousness as the union of its determinate -existence in Nature and humanity, Nature is neither taken simply for -that which it is in isolation by itself, nor is the Absolute severed -from it and posited in an independent self-subsistence. Consequently it -is wholly beside the point to speak of a distinction here between the -Inward and the External, the significance and the form, and this for -the reason that the Inward is not as yet released in its independence -as significance from its immediate reality in the object of sense. When -we apply here the expression import[37], such merely emphasizes our -_own_ reflection upon it, which is due to the necessity for ourselves -personally to regard the form, which contains that which is spiritual -and inward under the mode of sense-perception, generally as something -external to us, through which we are desirous of penetrating into -the Inward, that is, its animating life and significance, in order -that we may understand it. For this reason we are under the necessity -from the very first, when dealing with such general impressions of -sense-perception, of making an essential demarcation between those -cases in which the peoples, who in the first instance experienced -them, themselves were clearly conscious of this Inward itself as such, -that is, as a spiritual significance, and those in which the use of -such expressions is only applicable to ourselves, who now and only -now recognize an import of this kind in the content of that external -expression of sense-envisagement. - -In this primary unity such as the latter cases involve, there is -no such distinction between soul and body, notion and reality, as -is implied in the former. That which we describe as corporeal and -sensuous, natural and human, is not merely an expression for a -significance which proceeds at the same time to a point of distinction -from it[38]; but the phenomenon is itself conceived as the immediate -reality and presence of the Absolute, which does not in addition -possess some other mode of self-subsistent existence, but is confined -exclusively to the immediate presence of an object of sense, which -is God or the Divine. In the service of the Lama, for example, this -particular, actual human being is immediately known and adored as -God, just as in other natural religions the sun, mountains, rivers, -the moon, particular animals, such as the bull, ape, and so on, are -looked upon as immediately Divine existences and worshipped as sacred. -We may observe a similar directness, if under a mode of profounder -application, even now in many aspects of the Christian consciousness. -According to Catholic doctrine, for example, the consecrated bread -is the real body, and the wine the real blood of God, and Christ is -immediately present therein; nay, even according to the Lutheran faith, -both bread and wine are converted into such real body and blood by -virtue of the faith of the recipient. In this mystical union it is not -merely a symbolism which is expressed, a point of view which comes into -prominence as the result of it for the first time in later doctrines -of the reformed Church, where we find as a result the spiritual -significance is expressly severed from the sensuous object, and the -external medium is then accepted as merely pointing to an import which -is distinct from itself. In the same way the power of this Divine is -held to operate in the miracle-working images of the Virgin as a Divine -force that is immediately present within them, and not merely under -symbolical guise through the significant import of such pictures. - -We find, however, the most thorough and universal exemplification of -this absolute and immediate unity of sense-perception in the life and -religion of the ancient Zend-people, whose conceptions and institutions -are preserved for us in the Zend-Avesta. - -1. In other words the religion of Zoroaster beholds Light in the form -of its natural existence, the sun, stars, and fire in the luminous -activity and flames which proceed from them, actually as the Absolute, -without separating this Divine independently from that Light either as -its expression and image or the sensuous medium thereof. The Divine, -the significance, is not thus severed from its determinate existence -in the form of lights, however displayed. For even when light is -accepted here in the sense of Goodness and Justice, and through such -significance is extended to all that is rich in blessing, support, -and life, it is still not taken as the mere image of such things, but -Light is itself the Good. And the same view applies to the opposite of -light, namely, obscurity and darkness when identified with that which -is unclean, hurtful, evil, destructive, and deadly. - -This point of view may be more closely defined and considered as -follows: - -(_a_) In the first instance the Divine, as the essential purity -of Light[39], and the Darkness and Unclean are, it is true, -_personified_ under the names of Ormuzd and Ahriman respectively. -This personification is, however, throughout entirely superficial. -Ormuzd is no essentially free individuality devoid of all relation to -external objects[40] as was the God of the Jews, or truly spiritual and -personal as is the God of Christianity when conceived as truly personal -and self-conscious Spirit; rather Ormuzd, despite the fact that he is -described also as king, great spirit and judge, remains inseparable -from such external existence as Light and its illuminations. He is -exclusively this universal characteristic of all particular existences, -in which light and thereby the Divine and Pure are realized, without -any additional power to withdraw himself in a spiritual universality -and independence into his own substance from that which is thus -immediately presented. His consistence rests in the particular facts -of existence precisely in an analogous way to that of the genus in the -species. It is true that regarded as this universal he is superior to -all that is wholly particular, and is the first, most supreme, the -kings of kings glorious in his gold, the purest and so forth; but he -retains his existence none the less exclusively in all that is luminous -and pure as Ahriman in all that is obscure, evil, destructive, and -charged with disease. - -(_b_) As a result this mode of vision is at the same time extended to -the conception of an _empire_ of light and darkness, and the strife -between these forces. In the empire of Ormuzd it is in the first place -the Amschaspands, as the seven principal lights of heaven, which -receive adoration as Divinity, inasmuch as they are the essential -particular existences of Light, and for this reason constitute as a -pure and spacious empeopled heaven, the existence of the Divine itself. -Every Amschaspand, to which Ormuzd belongs, has assigned to it days -of precedence, blessing, and beneficence. The Izeds and Ferners carry -the conception still further into specification, which it is probable -enough are personifications of Ormuzd himself, albeit they add to him -no further shape that we may envisage as human, so that neither the -spiritual nor the bodily mode of subjectivity, but simply the existence -as light, appearance, illumination, splendour, remains the essential -characteristic of the object envisaged. - -In the same way also the particular objects of Nature, which themselves -do not exist in external form as lights and luminous bodies, such -as animals, plants, and so forth, no less than the forms which -characterize the human world, whether we view it under its spiritual -or bodily presentment, in other words the particular activities and -conditions of it, the entire life of the state, the king with the seven -great men who support him, the division of classes, cities, the various -provinces with their governors, all that is warranted by experience -as typical of the best and purest for the protection of the rest--the -entire reality, in fact, of this life is regarded as an existence of -Ormuzd. For everything that carries within itself and promulgates -what has solidity, life, and substance is an existence of Light and -Purity, and consequently an existence of Ormuzd; every particular -truth, excellence, love, justness, every individual example of life, -beneficence, protection, spiritual power and enjoyment or benignity -is, according to Zoroaster, regarded as essentially Light and Divine. -The empire of Ormuzd is the Pure and Illuminating of visible reality; -and conformably to this there is no distinction between the phenomena -of Nature or Spirit, just as Light and Goodness, the spiritual and the -sensuous quality, are inseparably blended in the conception of Ormuzd -himself. The _splendour_ of a creature is consequently for Zoroaster -the very substance of spirit, force, and life-exhalations of every -kind, in so far, that is, as they tend to actual conservation and to -the removal of everything positively evil and hurtful, for that which -is the Real and the Good, whether in beast, man, or vegetable life, is -Light, and it is according to the measure and mode of display of this -luminousness that the relative power or weakness of the splendour of -all objects is determined. - -An articulation and graduated division of similar character is found -in the empire of Ahriman, merely with the difference that what is -spiritually or naturally evil, and generally the destructive and -actively negative principle asserts itself in actual masterdom. But the -might of Ahriman must not be suffered to spread; the aim of the entire -world is consequently assumed to be that of annihilating the Empire of -Ahriman, in order that the life, presence, and dominion of Ormuzd may -prevail throughout creation. - -(_c_) To this exclusive object the entire life of humanity is -consecrate. The life-task of every man consists exclusively in a -purification of soul and body, and in the extension of this blessing -and this conflict with Ahriman throughout all the conditions and -activities of the life of man or Nature. The highest and most sacred -duty is consequently to glorify Ormuzd in his creation, and to love, -honour, and conform oneself to all that proceeds from his Light and is -essentially pure. Ormuzd is the beginning and end of all adoration. -Above all else the Parsee is moved to summon the life of Ormuzd in -thought and speech; he is the main object of his prayers. And in the -exaltation of him, from whom the entire world of the Pure has streamed -in its splendour, the devotee is in duty bound to accommodate his -adoration of particular objects according to the measure in which they -proclaim his majesty, worth, and perfection. So far as they are good -and ring sound, to that extent, the Parsee reasons with himself, is -Ormuzd alive within them; he loves them as the children of his purity, -yea, rejoices over them as in the beginning of his substance, forasmuch -as through him was everything brought forth in newness and purity. -And for the same reason is all prayer directed first and foremost to -the Amschaspands as the most intimate reflections of Ormuzd, as the -primates of supreme splendour who surround his throne and advance his -dominion. Such prayer to these heavenly spirits is immediately directed -to their qualities and activities, and in the case of stars at the -time of their uprising. The sun is invoked by day, and always with the -changes appropriate to his own motion through sunrise, noonday, or -sunset. From morning till noonday the devotion of the Parsee centres in -this that Ormuzd may exalt his splendour; at evening he prays that the -sun may through Ormuzd and the protecting care of every Tzed perfect -the course of his life. But principally we find honour paid to Mithras, -who, as the fruit-bringer to the Earth and the wilderness, pours forth -the fermenting sap over all Nature, and as mighty champion against all -the Devas of contention, war, confusion, and destruction, is the author -of peace. - -In addition to this the Parsee, in his generally single-toned songs -of praise, exalts his ideals, that is, the purest and most veritable -examples of human life, the Ferver conceived as pure human spirits, on -whatever portion of the Earth's surface they live or have lived. In -the chief place prayer is offered to the pure spirit of Zoroaster, and -after him to the leading lights of all classes, cities, and provinces; -and already in this religion, we find that the spirits of all mankind -are contemplated as united together with a sufficient bond in that they -are members in the living association of Light, which hereafter in -Gorotman shall receive a yet more perfect union. - -Finally, not even the animals, mountains, and vegetable world are -forgotten, but are appealed to as embodiments of Ormuzd; all that is -good and serviceable in them to mankind is extolled, and especially the -first and most excellent of its kind is adored as the present existence -of Deity. And over and above this worship of Ormuzd and of every form -of selected excellence among the pure and beneficent objects of his -creation the Zend-Avesta is insistent upon the _practice_ of goodness -and the purity of thought, word, and deed. The Parsee is to be in the -entire display of his external and inward man as Light, as Ormuzd, the -Amschaspands, and the Izeds, as Zoroaster and all good men live and do. -Such live and have lived in the Light, and all their deeds are Light; -therefore shall every man make them an example to his eyes and follow -after the same. The more purity of light and goodness man expresses -in his life and accomplishment, the nearer he stands to those spirits -of heaven. As the Izeds throw the blessing of their beneficence over -everything, are a source of life and fruitfulness and friendship, so, -too, he must seek to purify Nature, to ennoble her, and to reach abroad -the light of life and the joy of plenteousness. In accordance therewith -he shall feed the hungry, tend the sick, offer the drink of consolation -to the thirsty, give roof and shelter to the wanderer, provide pure -seed for the Earth, delve clean channels of water, plant the waste with -trees, nourish to the best of his power their growth, care for the -sustenance and fructification of things alive, keep pure the lambency -of fire, remove from sight the dead and unclean beast, establish -marriages, and in the doing thereof the holy Sapandomad, the Ized of -the Earth, herself rejoices, averting the harm which the Devas and the -Darvands are busy to prepare. - -2. If we ask ourselves once more, after this delineation in outline -of the fundamental conceptions of this system, what is the symbolical -character of the same there can be but one reply, namely, that there is -no trace here of anything we have previously described as symbolical. -On the one side, no doubt, we have light in its obvious natural form, -and on the other it possesses the further significance of all that -is rich in goodness, blessing, and permanence. It is, therefore, -possible to contend that the actual existence of light is merely an -image cognate with this universal significance, which interpenetrates -every part of the world of Nature and mankind. If we apply such an -interpretation to the conception of Parsees themselves we shall find -such a separation of existence and its import to be false; for these -the Light as Light is actually the Good, and is so apprehended that -it is in the form of light present and active in everything that is -good, vital, and positive. The universal and Divine is carried no -doubt through the distinctions of the world of particular objects, -but in this its differentiated and particularized existence, the -substantial and inseparable unity of import and form remains constant, -and the distinctions that are involved in this unity do not affect the -difference of significance _quâ_ significance, and its manifestation, -but only the distinguishing features of particular objects, such as -stars, organic life, human opinions and actions, in which the Divine as -Light or Darkness is immediately open to sense. - -In the further embrace of such conceptions there are no doubt points -of connection with incipient symbolism, but we get out of them no real -type of that mode of viewing things in its completeness; they will only -pass muster as isolated traits in its direction. To such effect Ormuzd -is on one occasion made to say of his beloved one Dschemschid: "The -holy Ferver of Dschemschid, the son of Vivengham, was great before me. -His hand received from me a dagger, whose sharpness was gold, and whose -shaft was gold. Therewith Dschemschid marked out three hundred portions -of the Earth. He split up the Earth-realm with his gold-plate, yea, -with his dagger and spake: 'Let Sapandomad rejoice.' He spake the holy -word with prayer to the tame cattle and the wild and unto men. So his -passing through was happiness and blessing for these lands and animals -of the home and the field, and men ran together into great dwellings." -Here we find in the dagger, and the cleaving of the Earth-soil an image -which may be interpreted as significant of agriculture. Agriculture -is still no essentially spiritual activity, and just as little is it -a purely natural one; it is rather a universal occupation of mankind, -which results from reflective thought and experience, and which has -point of association with all the relations of life. It is no doubt -never expressly stated in this conception of the passing of Dschemschid -that this splitting of the Earth with the dagger indicates agriculture; -nor is there a single word added of any increase of the fruits of the -field by virtue of this division; for the reason, however, that in -this particular act more appears to be included than the mere turning -over and loosening of the soil, we are led to look for a further -significance beneath it. The same observations apply to more recent -conceptions, such as we find exemplified in the later elaboration of -the worship of Mithras, where Mithras is represented as a youth who -in the dusk of a grotto raises on high the bull's head and plunges -a dagger in his neck, whereon a serpent licks up the blood, and a -scorpion gnaws his genitals. This symbolical account has received -an astronomical and other interpretations. We may, however, find in -it a still more universal and profounder meaning, and take the bull -generally to personify the principle of Nature, over which man, as -essentially spirit, secures the victory, and this though astronomical -associations may also be implied in it. That, however, such a -revolution as the victory of Spirit over Nature is contained in it is -also suggested by the name of Mithras, or mediator, more especially -if we refer it to a later period when such uplifting over Nature was -already a necessity present to the national consciousness. Symbols such -as the above, however, as already observed, only incidentally come to -the fore in the conceptions of the ancient Parsees, and do not in any -way constitute a principle for their fundamental type of thought. - -Still less can we describe the cultus, which the Zend-Avesta -inculcates, as one of symbolical tendency. We find no trace here, -for example, of symbolical dances in celebration or imitation of the -interlaced revolutions of the stars; as little any other forms of -activity which may pass as the suggestive counterfeit of universal -conceptions; rather all actions which are prescribed to the Parsee as -imperative in a religious sense are matters directly concerned with the -actual enlargement of his purity, either of soul or body, and appear as -directed with one intent and one object of realization, namely, that of -increasing the actual dominion of Ormuzd over men and the objects of -Nature, an object consequently which is not merely symbolized in such -activity, but entirely carried out. - -3. For the reason, then, that a genuine symbolic type fails absolutely -when applied to this religious system, it is equally destitute of a -true _artistic_ character. No doubt we may generally describe its mode -of conception as _poetical_ for the particular facts of Nature are -just as little as the particular sentiments, circumstances, acts, and -affairs of men treated in their immediate and consequently haphazard -and prosaic relation which is void of all significance, and are rather -contemplated essentially in the Absolute as very Light; or to put it -the other way, the universal essence of the concrete reality of Nature -and mankind is not conceived in the universality which is without -existence or form, but this universal and that particular is envisaged -and expressed in immediate union. Such a mode of viewing existence -may possibly claim a certain beauty, breadth, and largeness of its -own, and in contrast to gross and senseless idols Light is no doubt -as the essentially pure and universal element, an adequate image of -Goodness and Truth. But for all that we find that poetry here fails -to pass beyond a general conception; it never reaches either art or -the works of art. For the Good and the Divine are neither essentially -defined, nor is the consistency and form of this content a creation of -mind (Spirit); but rather, as we have already found, the thing which -is immediately present to sense, namely, the actual sun, stars, fire, -organic nature, throughout its vegetation, animal and human life, is -conceived as the appropriate form of the Absolute in this its existent -and _immediate_ shape. The sensuous representation is not, as Art -requires, the plastic product of mind, shaped and discovered by the -same, but immediately identified with and expressed by the external -existent shape as its appropriate counterfeit. It is quite true, in -another aspect, the particular thing is, by means of the imagination, -also fixed in an independent relation to its reality, as, for instance, -in the Izeds and Fervers, that is, in the genii of particular men; the -poetic invention, however, discovered in this incipient severation -is of the weakest kind for the reason that the distinction remains -entirely of a formal character, so that the genius, Ized or Ferver, -neither includes nor is able to include any real characteristic -content of its own, but, instead of this, either repeats one identical -content or possesses nothing more than the purely empty form of the -subjectivity, which the existing individual already possesses. The -product of the imagination here is consequently neither an other and -profounder significance nor the self-subsistent form of an essentially -richer individuality. And when we moreover find particular objects -envisaged on the wider plane of general conceptions and generic types, -to which, as appropriate to such types, the imagination vouchsafes a -real existence, even here also this uplifting of multiplicity into the -sphere of an all-comprehending and essential unity, regarded as the -basic core and substance of the individuals that constitute the same -species and genus, can only in a yet more indefinite sense be accepted -as an activity of the imagination, no real exemplification of either -poetry or art. So we have, for instance, in the holy fire of Behram the -essence of fire; and in the same way there is a water that underlies -all existent water. So, too, Horn is esteemed as the first, purest, -and most stalwart among trees, the primordial tree from which the -life-sap full of immortality flows; and among all mountains Albordsch, -the sacred mountain, is set before us as the primaeval root of the -Earth, erect in the splendour of the Light, from which the good deeds -of all men proceed, who have possessed the knowledge of Light, and -on whom the sun, moon, and stars repose. In general, however, we may -affirm that the universal is visibly known in immediate union with the -actual objects of sense, and it is merely now and again that universal -conceptions are embodied in the particular image. - -In yet more prosaic fashion does the cultus of this religion make -as its principal object the dominion of Ormuzd a reality which -interpenetrates all things, merely requiring this one essential -condition to the adequacy of every object, namely, its purity, and -without attempting therewith to construct from such any existent -form of art that is based upon immediate life, as, for example, the -warriors and wrestlers of Greece were so ready to do in their artistic -elaboration of physical perfection. - -From whatever side, then, or whatever may be the point of view from -which we regard this first unity of spiritual universality and sensuous -reality, we only get from it the _basis_ of symbolical art; it still -fails to possess a real symbolism of its own, and is unable to produce -works of art. In order that we may attain this object, which is the -next in view, we must pass away from the union we have just considered, -and examine modes of conception where the _difference_ and _conflict_ -between significance and form is more really emphasized. - - - -B. FANTASTIC SYMBOLISM - - -Quitting now the sphere of thought in which the identity of the -Absolute and its externally envisaged existence is immediately -cognized, we have, as an essential determination to start from, the -severation of these two aspects hitherto united, a _cleavage_ which -stimulates the effort to restore once more the visible breach by means -of an elaborate fusing together of the whole thus divided by a rich -use of the images of phantasy. With this attempt the essential need -for art is felt for the first time. No sooner has the imagination -succeeded in holding fast its envisaged content, which is no longer -grasped in immediate union with the objects of sense, in isolated -separation from that existence, than for the first time spirit is -confronted with the task of reclothing with the material of phantasy -for sensuous perception, that is, under the renewed mode of a spiritual -product, these general conceptions and of creating through this -activity the shapes of art. And for the reason that in the stage of -our process where we now find ourselves, this task is capable of only -a symbolic solution, we may easily fall under the impression that -we stand already in the sphere of genuine symbolism. This, however, -is not the case. What immediately faces us here are the forms of a -fermenting phantasy[41], which in the restlessness of its fantastic -dreams merely indicates the path which conducts us to the real centre -of symbolical art. In the first appearance of the distinguishing -relation between significance and the mode of its presentation, both -the severation and the association are still grasped in a confused -manner. This confusion is necessitated by the fact that neither of -the parted aspects of difference have as yet attained a totality, -capable of emphasizing the precise point in the process, which will -serve as the fundamental determination of the opposed side in it, -and by means of which for the first,time a really adequate union and -reconciliation is rendered possible. Spirit (mind), to illustrate our -difficulty further, determines by virtue of its own totality the -side of the external phenomenon out of its own essential substance -quite as really as it does its own spiritual content for the obvious -reason that the essentially complete and independent phenomenon only -receives its adequate form as the external existence of that which is -spiritual. In the case, however, of this primary severation of the -significances apprehended by mind, and the existent world of phenomena -such aspects of significance are not those of concrete spiritual life, -but abstractions, and this expression also is entirely destitute -of spiritual intension, and is consequently, in an abstract sense, -purely external and sensuous. This twofold impulse in the direction of -disunion and union is for the same reason an unsteady gait[42], which -ranges from the objects of sense in undefined and unmeasured waste -immediately to the aspects of universal import, and is only able to -discover for the inward content of consciousness the absolutely opposed -form of sensuous shapes. And it is this very contradiction which is -set forth as a means of really uniting elements which contradict each -other. The result is that instead of so doing it is first driven from -one side of the opposition into the other, and then again is hurled in -its ceaselessly alternating dance into the former extreme, while it -believes that in this rocking to and fro of its strain it has found -the means to lull itself to repose. Instead of getting, therefore, a -true satisfaction we have the _contradiction_ merely affirmed as its -genuine resolution, and in addition the union most incomplete of all -is set forth as that which art really requires. We must not therefore -expect to find in such a field of confusion worse confounded the true -forms of beauty. In this restless leap from one opposed extreme to the -other all that we find from one point of view in the sensuous material -that is absorbed, regarding the same in its singularity no less than as -it constitutes its elementary appearance to sense, is that the breadth -and potency of every import of universality is associated therewith -in what must consequently be a wholly inadequate way. From another -aspect that which is most universal, as soon as the process has passed -from the same, is shamelessly plunged under the reverse treatment -into the very heart of the sensuous present; and if any feeling of -the incompatibility of such an effort is consciously perceived, the -imagination here is only capable of rendering assistance by means of -distortions which carry the particular shapes over and beyond their own -secure boundaries, adding to their extension, making them ever more -indefinite, by an imaginative leap which mounts to the immeasurable, -breaks up every bond of union, and in its very strain after -reconciliation reveals each opposing factor in its most unmitigated -hostility[43]. - -These earliest and still most uncontrolled attempts of imagination and -art we meet most signally among the ancient races of India, the main -defect of whose productions, when viewed relatively to their particular -position at this stage of our classification, consists in this, that -they are neither able to seize the profounder aspects of significance -in independent clarity, nor grasp the reality of sense-perception in -its characteristic form and meaning. The Hindoo race has consequently -proved itself unable to comprehend either persons or events as parts -of continuous history, because to any historical treatment a certain -soberness is essential of accepting and understanding facts in their -true and independent form, and subject to their mediating links, -grounds, causes, and objects, being empirically ascertained. The -natural impulse to refer all and everything back to the Divine is -hostile to this prosaic reasonableness, no less than its tendency to -prefigure for itself in the most ordinary or most sensuous of objects -a presence and reality of godhead created by its own imagination. -These peoples consequently, through their confused intermingling of -the Finite and the Absolute, in which the logical order and permanence -of the prosaic facts of ordinary consciousness are disregarded -altogether, despite all the profusion and extraordinary boldness of -their conceptions, fall into a levity of fantastic mirage which is -quite as remarkable, a flightiness which dances from the most spiritual -and profoundest matters to the meanest trifle of present experience, in -order that it may interchange and confuse immediately the one extreme -with the other. - -If we concentrate our attention more closely upon the more conspicuous -features of this continuous bout of intoxication, this craze and -condition of craze, what we are concerned with is not to trace -religious conceptions as such, but merely to emphasize the points of -prominence which relate such modes of conception with art. These may be -indicated as follows: - -1. One extreme of the consciousness of the Hindoo is the consciousness -of the Absolute, here regarded as the essentially and absolutely -Universal, undifferentiated and consequently wholly indefinite. This -supreme of abstractions, inasmuch as it is neither in possession of -a particular content, nor is conceived under the mode of concrete -personality, is, from whatever side you may look at it, no object at -all that the imagination acting through the senses can reclothe for -art. Brahman[44], taken in a general sense as this supreme Godhead, is -absolutely removed from the sensuous and sense-perception, or rather is -not even an object for Thought. For self-consciousness is inseparable -from thought, which posits itself as an object of Thought, in order -that it may thus come to self-knowledge. Every act of intelligence -is an identification of the ego and object, a reconciliation of -that which is severed outside from this relation of recognition; -what I do not understand remains as something strange and foreign -to myself. The mode of union, under the Hindoo conception, of human -personality with Brahman is nothing more nor less than a continually -ascending process of exhaustion[45] in the direction of this supreme -of abstractions, in which not merely the entire concrete content, but -also self-consciousness itself, must be eliminated before the final -consummation is realized. Or, to put the same thing another way, the -Hindoo recognizes no reconciliation and identity with Brahman in -the sense that the spirit of humanity becomes _conscious_ of this -union. The unity rather consists in this, that both consciousness -and self-consciousness, and with them the entire content of the -objective world and personality totally disappears. This emptying -and annihilation to the point of absolute vacuity is treated as the -supreme condition under which man is capable of identity with highest -Divinity, that is Brahman. An abstraction of this sort, one of the -barest it is possible to imagine, whether we consider it from the -point of view of the Absolute, as Brahman, or from the human aspect -of a purely theoretically conceived cultus that consists in man's -self-evaporation[46] and self-annihilation, is in itself no object -either for the imagination or art; all the latter can do is to profit -by such opportunity as various imaginary representations of what -happens by the way to this goal may offer for their exercise. - -2. Conversely the Hindoo view of existence launches itself with -just the same immediacy over this very abstraction from all sense -into the wildest flood of it. Inasmuch, however, as the immediate -and consequently unbroken identity of both sides is in this view -cancelled, and instead of this the element of _difference_ within -this identity has become the basic principle of the type itself, this -very contradiction plunges us with no mediating connections from the -Finite into the Divine, and again from this latter into what is most -transitory of all; and we live and move among _simulacra_, which rise -up entirely as the growth of this alternating process, a kind of -witches' world, where the definition of every shape eludes our grasp as -we endeavour to seize it, is converted all at once into its opposite, -or straddles away into mere inflated enormities. - -The general modes under which Hindoo art manifests itself may be -summarized under the three following points of view: - -(_a_) In the first place we find the full hugeness of the content of -the Absolute is imposed by the imagination upon the _sensuous_ in its -aspect of singularity in such a way that this particular thing is -itself, in its own form and station, taken completely to represent -such a content and to exist as such for the imaginative sense. In the -Râmâyana, for example, the friend of Râma, namely, the prince of apes -Hanuman, is a principal personage, and he accomplishes the bravest -of exploits. And generally we may observe that among the Hindoos the -ape is revered as Divine, and we find, in fact, an entire city of -apes. In the ape, as this point of singularity, the infinite content -of the Absolute is envisaged and adored. It is just the same with -the cow, Sabalâ, which in the Râmâyana during the episodic treatment -of the expiations of Visvamitra, appears clothed with immeasurable -power. If we take a glance on higher planes we find entire families -in India--even though the individual here be merely a vacant and -monotonously vegetating life-unit--in whom the Absolute itself, as -this concrete reality, is adored in its immediate life and presence as -God. This same coincidence is found in Lamaism. Here, too, a single -individual receives the highest worship due to the present God. In -India, however, this honour is not exclusively paid to one man. Every -Brahmin proves at once his claim from the day of his birth in his own -caste to be ranked as Brahman, and possesses that second birth of the -Spirit which identifies his humanity with God, in the way of Nature -through his actual bodily birth, so that the crown of the most Divine -itself is immediately referred back upon the entirely commonplace -fact of physical existence. For although the Brahmin is under the -most sacred obligation to read the Vedâs, and attain by this means an -insight into the secrets of Deity, this duty can be actually carried -out in the most perfunctory way without detracting in the least from -the Brahmin's own divinity. In a similar manner it is one of the modes -most common to the representations of Hindooism to have the primordial -God set forth as the procreator or begetter, as we find Eros is in the -case of Greek mythology. This procreation as Divine activity is further -worked into all kinds of representations in a wholly material way, -and the private parts, both male and female, are treated as sacred in -the highest sense. And in a reverse way, and to no less extent, the -Divine, when it passes over in its independent Divinity to the plane -of existing reality, is suffered in a wholly trivial manner to get -mixed up with everyday details. We may take an example of this from -the commencement of the Râmâyana, where Brahmâ has come on a visit to -Vâlmîkis, the mythical bard of the Râmâyana. Vâlmîkis receives him -entirely in the common Hindoo fashion, pays him a compliment or two, -places a stool before him, and supplies him with water and fruits. -Brahmâ sits down just like anybody else and constrains his host to do -likewise: and there they sit on and sit on until at last Brahmâ orders -Vâlmîkis to compose the poem of the Râmâyana. - -Modes of conception such as these are still not symbolic in the -strict sense; for although we find that here, as the symbol requires, -forms are taken from the material of sense and diverted to the use -of conceptions of more universal import, we still find the further -condition of this requirement wanting, namely, that the particular -existences must not actually exist for sense-perception as this -absolute significance, but merely _suggest_ the same. For the Hindoo -imagination the ape, the cow, and the particular Brahmin are not merely -a cognate symbol of the Divine, but are contemplated and represented as -the Godhead itself, as existences adequate to that Godhead. - -It is the contradiction inherent in this immediacy which is the -motive force of another feature in the conceptions of Hindoo art. For -while, on the one hand, that which is absolutely severed from sense, -the spiritual significance out and out, is conceived as the actually -Divine, yet, on the other, the particular facts of concrete reality -are immediately envisaged by the imagination, even in their sensuous -existence, as Divine manifestations. They are no doubt partly only -taken to represent particular aspects of the Absolute; but even so -the particular thing in its immediacy is still incompatible with the -universality, which it is, as adequate to the same, introduced to -express; and it appears in all the more glaring contradiction to it -for the reason that the significance is here already conceived in its -universality, yet, despite of this, an express relation of identity -is immediately set up by the imagination between it and the most -particular of material facts. - -(_b_) The most obvious way in which Hindoo art endeavours to mitigate -this disunion is, as we have already suggested, by the _measureless_ -extension of its images. Particular shapes are drawn out into colossal -and grotesque proportions in order that they may, as forms of sense, -attain to universality. The particular form of sense, which is taken -to express not itself and its own characteristic meaning as a fact of -external existence, but a universal significance which lies outside -it, fails to satisfy the imagination until it has been torn out itself -into vastness which knows neither measure nor limit. This is the cause -of all that extravagant exaggeration of size, not merely in the case -of spatial dimension, but also of measurelessness of time-durations, -or the reduplication of particular determinations, as in figures with -many heads, arms, and so on, by means of which this art strains to -compass the breadth and universality of the significance it assumes. -The egg, for example, contains the bird within it. This particular fact -is enlarged to the measureless conception of a world-egg secreting the -universal life of all creation, and in which Brahmâ, the procreating -God, accomplishes without effort the year of creation, until by virtue -of his thought alone the the two halves of the egg fall asunder. And, -in addition to natural objects, human individuals and events are -exalted that they may express the significance of truly Divine action -in such a way that we can neither hold fast the Divine or the human -in their independence, but both seem to run in a continual confusion -backwards and forwards into one another. As a striking illustration -of such a mode of conception, we have the incarnations of certain -Hindoo gods, principally Vishnu, the conserver of life, whose exploits -figure largely in the great epic poems. Râmas is, for instance, himself -the seventh incarnation of Vishnu (Râmatshandra). From a review of -particular demands, actions, circumstances, modes of appearance, and -traits of demeanour, we are led to infer from these poems that this -content is in great measure borrowed from actual events, that is from -the exploits of ancient kings who exercised a powerful influence in -creating new conditions of law and order; we find ourselves surrounded -by a thoroughly human atmosphere and on the firm ground of reality. But -then again, in a converse direction, the entire scene expands, reaches -out into the nebulous, playing over and beyond it with universal -conceptions, so that we lose the vantage ground we had gained and are -robbed of all our bearings. We are treated in just the same way in the -Sakuntala. At first we have set before us the most gentle and odorous -realm of Love, in which everything goes on its way in an entirely human -fashion; and then we are all at once snatched from the wealth of this -genuine world, and transported into the clouds of the heaven of Indra, -where everything suffers change, and our formerly circumscribed sphere -is inflated to the measure of the universal import of Nature's life in -its relation to the Brahmin and the power of Nature's gods, which is -vouchsafed to man in return for his severe self-mortifications. - -Such modes of representation are also not to be termed in a strict -sense symbolical. That is to say the true symbol suffers the -determinate shape, which it applies, to remain under that original -definition, because its purpose is not to envisage therein the -immediate existent of the significance in its universality, but to -point to that import merely _through_ the qualities of the object -which are cognate to it. Hindoo art, however, although it severs -universality from the singular existing fact, still adds the further -requirement that both sides shall be immediately united through the -imagination, and is consequently forced to divest determinate existence -of its specific limitations, and, albeit in a material fashion, to -enlarge in the direction of indefiniteness and generally to change and -reconstitute. In this melting down of all clear definition, and in the -confusion which results from it, so that that form is always set down -as highest for everything, whether phenomena, events, or actions, which -in the mode of their figuration can neither for themselves assert nor -intrinsically possess and express any control over such content, we may -rather seek for features analogous to the type of the _sublime_ than -see any illustration of real symbolism. For in the Sublime, as we shall -see for ourselves further on, the finite phenomenon only expresses the -Absolute, which it would previsage for conscious sense to the extent -that in so doing it escapes from the world of appearance, which fails -to comprehend its content. This is just its treatment of eternity. -Its idea of it is sublime when it has to be expressed in terms of -time-duration, precisely through the emphasis it lays on the fact that -no number, however great, is sufficient. In this strain runs the text: -"A thousand years in Thy sight are even as a day." Hindoo art contains -much of the same or similar nature. It strikes the opening notes of -"the Sublime" symphony. The main difference, however, between it and -the true Sublimity consists in this, that the Hindoo imagination does -not in the wild exuberance of its images bring about the essential -nothingness of the phenomena which it makes use of, but rather through -just this very measurelessness and unlimited range of its visions -believes that it has annihilated and made to vanish all difference -and opposition between the Absolute and its mode of configuration. In -this extreme type of exaggeration, then, there is ultimately little of -real kinship with either true symbolism or Sublimity: it is equally -remote from the true sphere of beauty. It offers us no doubt, more -particularly in its more sober delineation of that which is exclusively -human, much that is endearing and benign, many gracious pictures and -tender emotions, the most splendid and seductive descriptions of -Nature, the most childlike traits of Love and naïve innocence, and -withal much too that is magnanimous and noble; but, none the less, if -we review it generally according to the fundamental import of all it -expresses, we shall find that the spiritual is throughout rooted in -sense, the meanest objects are placed on the same plane as the highest, -true definition is wrecked, the Sublime is lowered to the conception of -mere immeasurability, and that which is the original material of mythos -for the most part vanishes before our eyes in the fantastic dreams of -a restless and inquisitive imaginative power, and modes of shaping the -same devoid of all intelligent purpose. - -(_c_) In conclusion, the purest form of representation which we -meet with at this stage of imaginative conception is that of -_personification_, as it generally applies to the _human figure._ -For the reason, however, that the significance on this plane is -not as yet grasped as the free subjectivity of Spirit, but rather -either under a determination of abstract universality or as a mode -of natural existence, one that contains, for example, the life of -rivers, mountains, stars, or sun, for this reason it is only employed -as means of expression for this kind of content under a mode which -really detracts from the full worth of the human form. For the human -body, if we view it in its true definition, no less than the form of -human activities and events, expresses simply concrete Spirit and a -spiritual content, which is self-contained and subsistent in this its -reality, and possesses therewith no mere symbol or external sign. - -From one point of view consequently this personification, albeit the -significance, which it is invoked to represent, is taken to belong -to the spiritual no less than the natural, yet, on account of the -abstractness which clings to this form of significance, is on this -stage of thought still of a superficial nature, and needs yet many -other modes of representation to be rendered clear to the closer -inspection, forms with which it is here confusedly mingled and -thereby itself made obscure. And, moreover, taking it under another -aspect, it is not the subjectivity here and its form which supplies -the characterization, but rather its _expressions_, actions, and so -forth; for it is in deed and action that the more defined line of -severation first asserts itself, which can be brought into relation -with the specific content of the universal significances. In that case, -however, we are again face to face with the defect that it is not the -conscious subject, but merely its _means of expression_, which supply -the signification, no less than the confusion of thought, that events -and deeds, instead of constituting the reality and the existence of -the subject as determinately self-realized, preserve its content and -significance elsewhere. A series of such actions is able therefore -very possibly to carry with it a certain result and consequence, which -is derived from the content which such a series subserves as its -expression. This consequent result is, however, to an extent equally -great, liable again to be interrupted and in part suspended by that -which is central in the personification and the man[47], because -subjective activity is also a stimulus to capricious action and its -manifestation, so that both that which is significant and that which is -destitute of this quality keep up their varied and irregular interplay -just in so far as the imagination is unable to unite their significant -characteristics and the forms which are appropriate to them in one -substantial and secure mode of association. And, moreover, if it is the -purely natural aspect of such facts which is exclusively accepted as -the unified content, in that case the material must inevitably prove -itself inadequate to support the human form, just as this, being only -fully adapted as a means of expressing Spirit, is on its side incapable -of representing what is wholly natural. In all these respects such a -mode of personification as the one we are examining fails to express -a true mode; for the truth of art requires, as the truth universally -requires, that there should be a complete concordance between the -inward and the outward, that is, the notion and its reality. Greek -mythology, for example, personified the Pontine sea; Scamander -possesses its river gods, nymphs, dryads, and so forth. In other words -it builds up Nature in the most various forms as the content of its -human divinities. It does not, however, suffer its personification -to remain purely formal and superficial, but creates thereby real -individuals, in whom the purely natural significance fades into the -background, and the human element, on the contrary, which has taken up -and absorbed such material out of Nature, becomes the prominent factor. -Hindoo art, on the other hand, is unable to advance beyond a grotesque -intermingling of these two sides of Nature and humanity, so that -neither is treated according to its rightful claim, and both are merely -given the forms which are appropriate to the other. - -Speaking in a general way we cannot consider even these -personifications to be as yet strictly symbolical, for the reason that -owing to their formal superficiality they do not stand in any essential -relation to or mode of association more truly intimate with the more -determinate form which they are presumed to express. At the same time -we may note here, with respect to other particular modifications and -attributes, with which such personifications appear to be intermingled, -and which are taken to express the more defined qualities generally -attached to Divinities, an impulse in the direction of symbolic -representation, for which the personification then stands merely as the -universal type of widest connotation. - -If we turn now to the more important examples of the imaginative sense -on the plane we are now considering, we have first to draw attention -to Trimûrtis, the triformed Godhead. This Deity includes in the first -place _Brahmâ_, the activity which brings forth and procreates, the -creator of the world, Lord of all the gods and much more beside. On -the one hand he is to be kept distinct from Brahman (as Neuter), that -is from the ultimate Being, and is the first-born of such. In another -aspect, however, he again seems to fall into union with this abstract -Godhead, as generally happens with Hindoo thought where the lines of -difference are rarely held secure, and part are allowed to vanish and -the rest simply to get confused with each other. The form with which -he is most closely identified has much that is symbolical about it; -he is formed with four heads and four hands, and with the latter are -his sceptre and ring[48]. He is of a red colour, an obvious suggestion -of sunlight, since these Divinities invariably carry qualities which -are of universal significance in Nature and which are thus personified -in them. The _second_ Deity of this triune Trimûrtis, is Vishnu, the -preserving Godhead, the _third_ Sivas, the destructive Power. The -symbols employed to represent these gods are countless. For by reason -of the universality of the significances they express they comprehend -an infinite number of varied activities. In part these are related to -particular phenomena of Nature, mainly the elementary, such as, for -example, the quality of "fiery,"[49] which is an attribute of Vishnu, -and frequently we have set before us shapes of the most antagonistic -description. - -In the conception of this triform god we have the fact at once brought -home to us in the clearest way that the form of Spirit is not yet able -to assert itself in its Truth if for no other reason than this, that -here it is not the spiritual which constitutes the truly permeating -significance. That is to say, this trinity of gods would only be -Spirit if the third god were an essentially concrete unity, a unity -which returned upon itself from the differentiation and reduplication -of its substance. For God, according to the true conception of -Godhead, is Spirit as this active and absolute self-differentiation -and Unity, a conception which is generally what constitutes the notion -of Spirit. In this Trimûrtis, however, the triune God is not by any -means such a concrete totality, but merely a passage from this to that, -a metamorphosis, a procreator, a destroyer, and so forth. We must -be accordingly very careful not to imagine that we have discovered -the highest Truth in these most primordial gropings of man's reason, -and in this one note of concord which, no doubt, as mere rhythmic -expression[50], contains the triune form of Deity, that is, the -fundamental conception of Christian theology, believe that we already -have before us a recognition of the Christian doctrine of the Trinity. - -Starting from such fundamental conceptions as those of Brahman and -Trimûrtis, Hindoo imagination expatiates still further without let in -a countless number of the most varied formed Divinities. For those -primary significances of universal application which are apprehended -as essential Deity are of such a kind that they may be rediscovered -in an infinite number of phenomena, which are again personified and -symbolized as gods, and each and all combine in throwing the greatest -obstacles in the way of any intelligible system by reason of the -indefinite character and confusing volubility[51] of this type of -imagination, which fails utterly to grasp the real nature of anything -that it discovers, and merely wrests everything that it touches from -its own appropriate sphere. For these gods of subordinate rank, at the -head of which we may place such a Divinity as Indrus, who represents -the Air and the Heavens, the chief material is furnished by the general -forces of Nature, such as stars, rivers, and mountains conceived in -the various phases of their activity, their change, their influence on -mankind, whether beneficent or hurtful, preservative or destructive. -One of the most important subjects, however, of Hindoo imagination -and art is the origin of gods and the rest of creation, in other words -its Theogony and Cosmogony. For this type of imagination is generally -rooted in the continual effort to carry over that which is most removed -from sense into the very heart of the external world, or in the reverse -process once more to expunge that which stands nearest to sense and -Nature by means of the barest abstraction. Consequently the origin -of the gods is referred back to the primordial Godhead[52], and at -the same time the workings and existence of Brahmâ, Vishnu, and Sivas -are represented as actual in mountains, streams, and human events. -A cosmological content of this kind can, on the one hand, contain -an independent and specific order of Deities, while on the other -these gods are made to merge in those universal significances of the -supremest type of Godhead. Such theogonies and cosmogonies are numerous -and of every conceivable variety. When anyone ventures, therefore, -to say that the Hindoos have thus or thus portrayed the creation of -the world or the origin of Nature, such a statement can only be taken -to apply to a particular sect or book; you can very easily find a -perfectly different account of these events elsewhere. The imagination -of this people in the pictures and images they have created is -exhaustless. - -A mode of conception which is conspicuous throughout the entire series -of these creation stories is the constantly repeated presentation of -the creative act not in the form of _spiritual fiat_, but of a purely -_natural_ process of _generation._ Only after having made ourselves -thoroughly conversant with this mode of imaginative vision shall we -discover the key to unlock the meaning of many representations which -at first totally confound all our feelings of shame, shamelessness -being here apparently driven to its furthest limits, and in its utter -sensuousness carried beyond all belief. A striking example of this -mode of imaginative treatment is offered us by the notoriously popular -episode from the Râmâyana, known as the descent of Gangâ. This tale -is narrated on the occasion when Râmas happens by chance to come to -the Ganges. The wintry and ice-covered Himavân, the prince of the -mountains, was father by the slender Menâ of two daughters, Gangâ, -the elder, and the beautiful Umâ the younger one. Certain gods, -more particularly Indras, beseech the father to send them Gangâ, in -order that they may institute the sacred rites, and as Himavat proves -himself quite ready to accede to their request Gangâ mounts on high -to the blessed gods. After this follows the further story of Umâ, who -after accomplishing wonderful actions of humility and penitence, is -espoused to Rudras, that is, Sivas. From this union spring up wild and -unfruitful mountains. For a hundred years long Sivas lay with Umâ in -the bridal embrace, without intermission, so that the gods aghast at -the procreative power of Sivas, and full of anxiety for the productive -child, beseech him that he will divert the stream of his strength on -the Earth. This passage the English translator has not ventured to -translate literally, for the reason that it flings too much for him -every shred of shame or modesty to the winds. Sivas hearkens to the -beseechings of the gods, and staying his former procreative ardour, -that he may not utterly confound the universe, he loosens the seminal -flood over the Earth. Out of this, transpierced with fire, rises up -the white mountain which separates India from Tartary. Umâ, however, -falls into scorn and anger at this complaisance, and thereon curses -all wedlock. In this section of the tale we have what are mainly -fearful and distorted pictures which run so entirely counter to our -ordinary notions of imagination and intelligent senses that the most -we can do is to observe what they would appear to offer in default of -either. Schlegel has omitted to translate this section of the episode -and merely added in his own words how Gangâ descends once more on the -Earth. And this took place in the following way. A certain forebear -of Râmas, Sagaras, was father of a bad son, and by a second wife he -was father of no less than 60,000 sons, who came into the world in a -pumpkin, were, however, raised up into stalwart men on clarified butter -in pitchers[53]. Now it chanced one day that Sagaras was of a mind to -sacrifice a steed, which was, however, seized from him by Vishnu in -the form of a serpent. On this Sagaras sends forth his 60,000 sons. -But no sooner had they come to Vishnu after great hardships and a -long searching than a breath of hers burns them all to ashes. After -a weary waiting a certain grandson of Sagaras, by name Ansumân the -Shining, son of Asamaschas, set forth to find his 60,000 uncles and -the sacrificial steed. He actually comes upon both the steed Siwas and -the heap of ashes. The king of birds, Garudas, however, notifies to -him the fact that unless the stream of the holy Gangâ flows down from -heaven over the heap of ashes his relations will be unable to return -to life. Whereupon the stalwart Ansumân endures for 32,000 years on -the mountain-top of Himavân the sternest mortifications. All in vain. -Neither his own chastisements nor those of yet another 30,000 years -of his son Dwilipas are of the slightest avail. At last the son of -Dwilipas, the glorious Bhagîrathas, succeeds in accomplishing the feat, -but only after mortifications which last 1,000 years. Then the Gangâ -plunges down; but in order that the Earth may not thereby shiver in -pieces, Siwas now bows his head so that the water runs into his mane. -Thereupon yet further mortifications are enjoined upon Bhagîrathas, in -order that Gangâ may be free to stream forth from these locks. Finally -she is poured forth in six streams; the seventh Bhagîrathas conducts -after mighty privations to the place of the 60,000, who mount up to -heaven, and therewith Bhagîrathas rules for yet many a year over his -people in peace. - -Other theogonies such as the Scandinavian and the Greek are very -similar in type to the Hindoo. The principal feature of them all -is this of physical generation and production; but not one of them -plunges so headlong into the subject or in general displays such -caprice and impropriety in the images of its invention as the Hindoo. -The theogony of Hesiod is in particular far more intelligible and -succinct, so that at least one knows where one is, and is clear as to -the general significance; and this is so because the impression is -far more pronounced that the form and external embodiment of the myth -is set forth by the narrator as something external. The mythos starts -in this case[54] with Chaos, Erebos, Eros, and Gaia. The Earth (Gaia) -brings forth Uranos of her own accord, and then is mother by him of -the mountains, sea, and so forth, also of Cronos and the Cyclops, -Centimani[55], whom Uranos, however, shortly after birth incarcerates -in Tartaros. Gaia thereupon induces Cronos to castrate Uranos. The deed -is accomplished. And from the blood that falls on the Earth spring to -life the Erinnyes and the Giants. The castrated member is caught by the -sea, and from the sea's foam arises Cytherea. In all this description -the outlines are more clearly and decisively drawn. And we are thereby -carried beyond the circle of mere gods of Nature. - -3. If we endeavour now to seize some point where the transition is -emphasized to the stage of real symbolism, we shall find the same -already in the first beginnings of Hindoo imagination. That is to -say, however preoccupied the Hindoo imagination may be in its efforts -to contort the sensuous phenomenon into a plurality of Divinities, a -preoccupation which no other people has displayed with anything like -the same exhaustless scope and countless transformations, yet from -another point of view in many of its visions and narratives it remains -throughout constant to that spiritual abstraction of a God supreme over -all, in contrast with whom the particular, sensuous, and phenomenal -is undivine, inadequate, and consequently is apprehended as something -negative, something which has finally to be cancelled. For, as we have -from the first noticed, it is precisely this continual involution of -one side on the other which constitutes the fundamental type of the -Hindoo imagination, and makes it for ever incapable of finding a true -principle of reconciliation. The art is consequently never tired of -representing, in every imaginable way, the surrender of the sensuous -and the power of spiritual abstraction and self-absorption. Of this -kind are the representations of toilsome mortifications and profound -meditations, of which not merely the most ancient epical poems, -such as the "Râmâyana" and the "Mahâbhârata," but also many other -works of art furnish most important examples. No doubt many of these -self-chastisements are undergone on grounds of ambition, or at least -with a view to definite objects, which do conduct the devotee to the -highest and most final union with Brahman, and to the mortification of -everything carnal and finite. An object of this kind is the endeavour -to secure the power of a Brahmin; but even in this there is always the -fact present to consciousness that the expiation and the continuance -of a meditation that is ever more and more diverted from the objects -of sense will raise the devotee over his birth-place in a particular -caste, no less than help him resist the power of Nature and the gods -of Nature. For this reason, that prince of Divinities of this class, -Indras, opposes most signally strenuous aspirants, and strives to -entice them away; or, in the case where all his seductions fail, he -invokes assistance from the supreme gods lest the entire heaven fall -into confusion. - -In the representation of mortifications of this kind and the several -kinds and grades according to which they are ranked, Hindoo art is -almost as fertile in its invention as in its system of Divinities, and -it pursues the theme with the most thorough earnestness. - -This, then, is the point from which we may now extend our survey in a -forward direction. - - - -C. REAL SYMBOLISM - - -In the case of symbolical, no less than that of Fine Art, it is -necessary that the significance which it seeks to embody should not -merely be set forth, as is the case in Hindoo art, from the first -immediate unity of the same with its objective existence, such -as obtains before any severation or distinction has as yet been -emphasized, but that this significance should itself be independent and -_free_ from the _immediate_ sensuous content. This deliverance can only -so far assert itself as the sensuous and natural medium is both grasped -and envisaged as itself essentially negative, as that which has to be -and has been absorbed. It is a further requirement, moreover, that the -negativity, which is successful in making its appearance as the passing -off and the self-dissolution of the Natural, should be accepted and -receive embodiment as the _absolute import_ of the object generally, -as a phase, that is to say, of the Divine. But with a fulfilment of -such claims we are already beyond the limits of Hindoo art. It is true -that the consciousness of this negative side is not wholly absent -from the Hindoo imagination. Sivas is the destroyer no less than the -producer. Indras dies, nay, more, the Destroyer Time, personified as -Kâla the terrible giant, confounds the entire universe and all gods, -even Trimûrtis, who passes away at the same time in Brahman, just as -the individual in his self-identification with the highest form of -Divinity suffers his Ego and all his wisdom and will to vanish away. -In these conceptions, however, the negative element is in part merely -a transformation and change, in part only an abstraction, which allows -all definition to drop away, in order that it may thrust its path to -an indefinite and consequently vacuous and content-less universality. -The substance of the Divine on the other hand persists through change -of form, passage over and advance to a system of many Deities, and the -abrogation of that system once more in the one highest form of God -unalterably one and the same. It is not that conception of the one -God, which itself essentially possesses, as this unity, the negative -aspect as its own determination, both necessary and appropriate to its -own essential notion. In an analogous way the destructive and hurtful -element is placed according to the Parsee view of existence _outside_ -the personality of Ormuzd in Ahriman, and consequently only makes a -contradiction and conflict manifest belonging under no form of relation -to Ormuzd, as a distinct phase of his own substance. - -The actual point in the advance which we have now to make consists, -therefore, in this that, on the one hand, the negative aspect, fixed -by consciousness in an independent relation as the Absolute, is, -however, on the other, merely regarded as a phase of the Divine, as -a phase, however, which is not only as outside the true Absolute -incidental to another Godhead[56], but is to be so ascribed to the -Absolute, that the true God appears as a process in which He negates -_Himself_, and thereby contains this negative element as an inherent -self-determination of His own substance. - -Through this enlarged conception the Absolute is for the first time -essentially _concrete_, that is self-determination, and thereby -essential unity, whose particular antitheses, as parts of a process, -appear to consciousness as the different determinations of one and -the same God. For the necessity of giving essential definition to the -absolute significance is just that which at this stage it is felt to be -of first importance to satisfy. All the significances up to this point -persisted by virtue of their abstract character as absolutely undefined -and consequently void of content, or were merged, when in a converse -direction they tended to clear distinction, immediately in the Being of -Nature, or fell into a conflict in respect to their configuration which -gave them no repose and reconciliation. This twofold defect we have now -to remove, both by showing the advance of Thought regarded as itself an -ideal process, and by illustrating that advance by means of particular -facts of the mind and institutions of nations on the objective plane of -history. - -And in the _first_ place we may observe a more intimate bond of -association is set up between the Inward and Outward aspect of -consciousness in the increased recognition that every determination -of the Absolute is already essentially an inchoate movement in the -direction of expression. For every determination is essentially -distinction[57]. The External, however, is as such always defined -and distinct, and consequently there is thus an aspect immediately -presented, according to which the External is manifested in a form -more adequate to the significance than was possible under the modes -of conception as yet examined. The first definition, however, and -essential negation of the Absolute inevitably falls short of the free -self-determination of Spirit as _Spirit._ It is merely the immediate -negation of itself. This immediate and consequently natural negation -in its most comprehensive form of statement is _Death._ The Absolute -is consequently apprehended now in a way that it is compelled to -submit itself to this form of negation as a part of the essential -determination of its own notion, in other words it is obliged to enter -the path of extinction, and we observe consequently the glorification -of Death and grief in the first instance made present to the national -consciousness as the death of the dying sensuous material. The death of -Nature is cognized as a necessary part[58] of the life of the Absolute. -The Absolute, however, on the one hand, in order to be subject to this -phase of Death, must be posited already as determinate existence; and, -equally from another point of view, must not be suffered to remain in -the annihilation of Death, but must be held to _re-establish_ itself -in an essentially positive unity on a yet higher plane of existence. -Death is consequently not accepted here as constituting the entire -significance, but merely one aspect of the same. And though no doubt -the Absolute is in one sense viewed as a cessation of its immediate -existence, a passage over and beyond and a passing away, yet it is -quite as much in the reverse sense conceived as a return upon itself, -as a resurrection, as an eternal process of Divine realization rendered -possible by virtue of this evolutional principle of negation. For Death -is capable of a twofold meaning. Under the first it is the immediate -passing away of the natural; under the second Death is the extinction -of the exclusively natural and thereby the birth of a higher type, that -is, spiritual, from which the merely natural falls away in the sense, -that Spirit possesses in itself this phase as an essential phase of its -own substance. - -For this reason, _secondly_, the form of Nature can no longer be -accepted in the immediacy of sensuous existence as adequate to the -significance referred to it, because the significance of the External -consists just in this, that it must die in the form of its real -existence and rise again. - -On the same ground, _thirdly_, the mere conflict between significance -and form and that ferment of the imagination, which was the fantastic -product of Hindoo conceptions, drop away. The significance is, it is -true, even now not yet fully and with absolute clarity cognized in its -pure unity _free_ from all sense-presented reality, so that it could be -set forth in real _contrast_ with the form of its actual embodiment; -conversely, however, the form itself, this particular, object, that -is, whether in its glorified shape of grandiosity or in any other -more conspicuous form of caricature, as an image of animal life, a -human personification, event or action, is not taken to envisage for -immediate sense an adequate existence of the Absolute. This corrupt -form of identity is already surpassed as fully to the extent that it -still falls behind that other complete deliverance. And in the place of -both of these extremes we have asserted that kind of representation, -which we have above already described as the _real symbolical._ On the -one hand it is now _able_ to appear for the reason that the Inward, or -that which is conceived as significance, is no longer something which -merely, as in Hindoo conceptions, comes and passes away, at one moment -is absorbed immediately in externality, at another is withdrawn from -the same into the solitude of abstraction, but it begins to make itself -independently secure against the mere reality of Nature. And on the -other hand the symbol is now forced to seek some form of plastic shape. -That is to say, although the significance, identical in every way with -that which has hitherto obtained, possesses as a phasal condition of -its content the negation of the Natural, yet the true Inward now for -the first time shows a definite tendency to wrest its way from that -Natural, and is consequently itself still swallowed up within the -external mode of appearance, so that it is unable independently to be -brought home to consciousness in its clear universality without having -previously had to comply with the form of external reality. - -Now the kind of _configuration_ which is implied by the notion of -that which generally constitutes the _fundamental significance_ in -symbolism, may be described in the following terms, namely, we find in -it that the definite forms of Nature, human activities and so forth, -neither--to express one aspect of it--represent or signify merely -themselves severally in their isolated natural characteristics, nor--to -emphasize the other aspect--bring their immediate form to consciousness -as the Divine actually visible to sense. They are rather employed to -_suggest_ that same Divine through qualities which they possess cognate -with a significance of more comprehensive range. For this reason it is -just that universal dialectic of Life, its origin, growth, collapse -in and awakening from Death, which also in this connection supplies -the appropriate content for the true symbolic type; and this is so -because we find in almost every province of natural and spiritual -life certain phenomena, which presuppose this process as the basis of -their existence, and consequently can be utilized as means of giving a -visible body to such significant aspects and of pointing by suggestion -to the same, a real affinity being actually inherent between the two -sides. Thus plants spring from their seed, sprout, grow, bring forth -fruit; the fruit corrupts and produces fresh seed. In the same way the -sun rises to a low elevation in winter; in Spring he mounts on high, -until we have his meridian reached in summer; it is then that he pours -forth his richest blessing or exerts the greatest destructive force; -after that he inclines once more towards the horizon. The various -stages of human life, too, childhood, youth, maturity, and old age, -illustrate precisely the same universal process. But in a special sense -specific localities such as the Nile-valley are adapted to the closer -particularization in the direction indicated. - -In so far, then, as that which is purely fantastic is displaced by -these more fundamental traits of affinity and the more intimate -applicability of the expression to the import it expresses there arises -a thoughtful process of selection with reference to the comparative -congruity or incongruity of the symbolizing forms, and the intoxicated -eddy to and fro which prevailed is laid to rest in a more intelligent -circumspection. - -We consequently observe that a union more at one with itself reappears -in the place of that which we found in the first stage of our process, -subject, however, to this characteristic difference, that the identity -of the significance with its objectively real existence is no longer -one immediately envisaged, but one that is _set up_ out of the -difference and consequently not one previously discovered, rather we -should say a mode of union that is the _product of mind_ (Spirit). That -which, in its most general terms, we call the _Inward_ begins at this -point to assume the solidity of self-subsistence, to be conscious of -itself; it seeks for its counterfeit in the objects of Nature, which -on their part possess a similar reflection in the life and destinies -of Spirit. Out of this eager movement to recognize the one side in -the other, and by means of the external to bring for itself visibly -to sense and the imaginative faculty the significance, as also to -envisage by virtue of that Inward the significance of the external -shapes through a union in which both sides are associated, we get that -vast impulse of art which finds its satisfaction through means which -are purely symbolical. Only when the Inward is free and is driven -forward to make clear to the imaginative vision in real form what it -essentially is, and to have before itself this very vision, moreover, -in the form of an external work, do we find that the genuine impulse -of art, and the particularly plastic arts, begins to be a living fact. -Then it is that the necessity is felt to clothe the Inward with a -form not merely previously discovered from the resources of spiritual -activity, but rather one that is minted out of spirit (mind) for the -first time. In the symbol, then, there is a second form _created_, -which, however, is not independently valid for itself as its main -purpose, but is rather employed to envisage the significance, and -stands consequently in a dependent relation to the same. - -It were possible to apprehend the above relation in such a way as -though the significance were that point from which the artistic -consciousness starts on its journey, and that only after having found -this it begins to look round for means to express its universal -conceptions through external phenomena cognate in their affinity to -such conceptions. This, however, is not the way that real symbolic -art proceeds. For its characteristic distinction consists in this, -that its penetration fails as yet to grasp the significances in their -independent consistency, independent, that is, from every mode of -externality. For this reason its point of departure is rather from -that which is immediately presented and its concrete existence in -Nature and Spirit. This it thereupon, in the first instance, expands -to the measure of the universality of such significances, whose -determination such objective real existence contains only under more -restricted conditions, adding this wider range in order that it may -create a form from Spirit, which is to make that universality visible -to consciousness in this particular reality when once it is set forth -clearly before perception. Regarded as symbolical forms, therefore, -the images of art have not as yet attained a form truly adequate -to Spirit, inasmuch as Spirit itself is not as yet at this stage -essentially clear and thereby free Spirit; but we have at least here -embodiments, which essentially proclaim the fact to us, that they are -not merely selected to represent simply themselves, but are intended to -point to significances of profounder intension and more--comprehensive -range. That which is purely natural and sensuous asserts itself as fact -and nothing beside; the symbolical work of art, however, whether it -be the phenomena of Nature or the human figure that it makes visible -to the eye, points at the same time over and outside such facts to -something further, which, however, must possess an intimate root of -affinity with the images that are thus displayed, and an essential bond -of relation with them. This association between the concrete form and -its universal significance may conceivably be present in many different -ways. At one time the emphasis will be laid on the external aspect, and -it will consequently be more obscure; at another, however, the basis of -affinity will be more pronounced as in the case when the universality, -which is to be symbolized, constitutes, in fact, the essential content -of the concrete phenomenon. In this case naturally it is a much simpler -matter to grasp the symbolic character of the object. - -The most abstract mode of expression in this respect is _number_, -which, however, it is only possible to use as an indication of a -further meaning beyond that it ordinarily elucidates when this -significance is itself, essentially numerical. The numbers seven and -twelve are frequently met with in Egyptian architecture, because -seven is the number of the planets, and twelve is that of the lunar -revolutions or the number of feet that the water of the Nile must -necessarily rise in order to fructify the land. Such a number is then -regarded as sacred in so far as it is present as a determinant in the -great elementary relations, which are revered as forces in the whole -life of Nature. Twelve steps or seven pillars are to this extent -symbolical. The same kind of numerical symbolism has an extensive -influence upon the form of widely famous mythologies. The twelve -labours of Hercules, for example, appear to contain a reference to the -twelve months of the year; for if Hercules under one aspect of the myth -is no doubt presented to us as the thoroughly human impersonation of a -hero, in another he unquestionably indicates a significance of Nature -under a symbolized form, and, in fact, is a personification of the -course of the sun. - -In a further and more complete sense symbolical configurations of -space, labyrinthine passages, and such like carry a symbolical image -of the course of the planets, just as dances, too, in virtue of their -complex evolutions symbolically express the motion of the great -elementary bodies. - -And further, on a higher plane, the bodies of animals are utilized -as symbols, but most succinctly of all the human figure, which, even -at this stage, as we shall see later on, appears to be elaborated in -modes more compatible with its intrinsic worth for the reason that even -now Spirit in general makes a real movement to embody itself from out -the mere swaddling clothes of Nature in a shape more adequate to its -own self-subsistent personality. Such, then, constitutes our general -concept of the true form of symbolism and the necessity under which -art labours to express the same. And in order that we may discuss the -more concrete exemplifications of this type of symbolism, it will be -necessary in dealing with this first plunge of Spirit into the wealth -of its own resources to leave the East and direct our attention mainly -on the West. - -As a symbol of universal import to indicate the point of view where -we now stand, we may perhaps first and foremost fix before our eyes -the image of the Phoenix, which is its own funeral pile, yet ever is -rejuvenated out of the flames of its death and rises from the ashes. -Herodotus informs us (II, 73) that at least in representations he saw -this bird in Egypt, and, in fact, it is the _Egyptian_ people who also -supply us with a focus for the type of symbolical art. Before, however, -we proceed to the closer consideration of Egyptian art we will mention -several other myths, which form, as it were, the passage to that -national symbolism which we find most elaborate, no matter from what -direction we approach it. Such are the myths of Adonis, that of his -death, and the lament of Aphrodite over him, the funeral festivals, -etc., conceptions and rites which find their original home on the -Syrian coast. The service of Cybele among the Phrygians possesses the -same significance, which also finds its echo in the myths of Castor and -Pollux, Ceres and Proserpina. - -As the essence of such significance we find in the above quoted -examples, before everything else, that phasal condition of negation we -have already alluded to, the death, that is, of the natural regarded -as a basic and absolute condition of the Divine process, emphasized -as such, and made visible in its independence. It is in this sense -that we can explain the funeral festivals that celebrate the death of -the god, the excessive lamentations over his loss, which is once more -made good through his rediscovery, resurrection, and rejuvenescence, -making it possible for the festivals of joy to follow. This universal -significance contains further its more definite relation to Nature. -In winter the sun loses his force, while in spring he returns once -more, and with that Nature regains her youth, she dies and is reborn. -In examples such as these the Divine, personified as a human event, -discovers its significance in the life of Nature, which then from a -further point of view becomes a symbol for the essential character of -the negative condition generally, in spiritual things no less than -natural. - -It is in _Egypt_, however, that we have to look for the perfect -example of symbolical representation in its systematic elaboration of -characteristic content and form. Egypt is the land of symbol, which -proposes to itself the spiritual problem of the self-interpretation -of Spirit, without being able successfully to solve it. The problems -remain without an answer; and such solution as we are able to supply -consists therefore merely in this, that we grasp these riddles of -Egyptian art and its symbolical productions as this very problem which -Egypt propounds for herself but is unable to solve. For the reason -that we find that Spirit here still endeavours in the external objects -of sense, from which again it strains to free itself, and further -labours with unwearied assiduity, to evolve from itself its essential -substance by means of natural phenomena no less than to embody the same -in the form of spirit for the _vision of the senses_, rather than -as the pure content of mind, this Egyptian people may, in contrast -to all the instances previously examined, be described as the nation -Art claims for herself[59]. Its works of art, however, remain full of -mystery and silence, without music or motion; and this is so because -Spirit here has not yet truly found its own life, nor has learned how -to utter the clear and luminous speech of mind. In the unsatisfied -stress and impulse, to bring before the vision through her art, albeit -in so voiceless a way, this wrestle of herself with herself, to give -shape to the Inward of her life, but only to become conscious of her -own Inward, no less than that which universally prevails[60], through -external forms which are cognate with it--we have in a sentence the -characterization of Egypt. The people of this wonderful land was not -merely agricultural, but also constructive, a folk which tossed up the -soil in every direction, delved lakes and canals, and exercised their -artistic instincts not merely in giving visible shape to buildings of -enormous solidity, but in carrying works themselves of vast dimension -to a like extent into the bowels of the earth. To erect buildings of -this kind was, as we have long ago learned from Herodotus, a principal -occupation of this people, and one of the chief exploits of their -kings. The buildings of the Hindoo race are also unquestionably of -colossal size; we shall, however, find nowhere else a variety which can -compare with that of Egypt. - -1. Reviewing now the general conceptions of Egyptian art with a closer -attention to particular aspects of it, we may in the first place define -the fundamental principle of so much of it as follows, that we find -here the Inward is securely held in its independent opposition to the -immediacy of external existence. And what is more, this Inward is -conceived as the negation of Life, in other words the dead thing, not -as the abstract negation of the evil and hurtful thing, such as Ahriman -in contrast to Ormuzd, but as form essentially substantive. - -(_a_) To illustrate this thought further, the Hindoo merely subtilizes -his life to the most empty of abstractions, that is in result one that -therewith negates every form of concrete content. Such a Brahm-becoming -process is not to be found in Egypt; rather we find here that the -invisible possesses a fuller significance; the corpse secures the -content of the living body itself, which, however, as torn away from -immediate existence, in its retirement from actual life[61], still -possesses its relation to that which is alive, and in this concrete -form is maintained as self-subsistent. It is a well-known fact that -the Egyptians embalmed and revered cats, dogs, hawks, ichneumons, -bears, and wolves (Herod., II, 67), but most of all the dead human body -(Herod., II, 86-90). By them the honour paid to the dead is not that of -burial, but its preservation from age to age as a corpse. - -(_b_) And moreover we may observe that the Egyptians do not merely -remain constant to this immediate and still wholly natural permanency -of the dead. That which is preserved in its physical or natural aspect -is also conceived to endure in a form present to the imagination. -Herodotus informs us that the Egyptians were the first who held the -doctrine that the human soul is immortal. We consequently find that -they are the first who present to us a more exalted mode of this -resolution of the natural and spiritual, a mode that is to say, under -which it is not merely the natural body which secures an independent -self-subsistence. - -The immortality of the soul is a conception which borders closely upon -the freedom of Spirit. The Ego is here apprehended as removed from the -purely natural mode of its existence, reposing on its own substance. -This knowledge of itself, however, is the principle of freedom. No -doubt we are not justified in asserting that the Egyptians grasped -the notion of spiritual freedom in its profoundest sense. We must not -imagine that their belief in the immortality of the soul is identical -with our own form of that belief; but they already possessed the power -to retain securely that which was separated from Life under a form -of existence visible only to the imagination, no less than one in -which it was identical with the bodily material. They have thereby -made possible the passage to the full emancipation of Spirit, albeit -it was but the threshold of the temple of freedom that they passed -over. This fundamental conception of theirs is further expanded to a -unified and substantial Kingdom of the Departed set up in contrast to -the immediate presence of the real. A Court of Justice of the Dead is -held in this invisible state over which Osiris as Amenthes presides. -One of similar character is also instituted in the sphere of immediate -reality, justice being executed even among men over the dead, and after -the decease of a king every one was entitled to submit his grievances -to that court. - -(_c_) If we now proceed to inquire what is the _symbolical_ form of -art, which is given to such conceptions, we must look for this among -the characteristic features of Egyptian architecture. The form of this -architecture is twofold; there is one type that is superterraneous, -while the other is subterraneous. - -On the one hand we find underground labyrinths, gorgeous and extensive -excavations, passages half a mile in length, dwellings covered with -hieroglyphics elaborated with every possible care. On the other we have -piled above their level those amazing constructions among which we -may first and foremost reckon the _pyramids_. For centuries men have -ventilated various notions as to the precise meaning and significance -of these pyramids. It is now, however, assured beyond dispute that they -are nothing more or less than the enclosures of the graves of kings or -sacred animals, such as the Apis, the Cat, or the Ibis. In this way we -have before our eyes in the pyramids the simple prototype of symbolical -art. They are enormous crystals which secrete an Inward within them; -and they so enclose an external form which is the product of art, that -we are at the same time made aware they stand there for this very -Inward in its severation from the mere actuality of Nature, and that -their entire significance depends on that relation. But this kingdom -of Death and the Invisible, which here constitutes the significance, -possesses merely the one and, what is more, the formal aspect -appropriate to the true type of art, that is its dissociation from -immediate existence; it is for this reason primarily but a Hades, not -yet a Life, which, although raised above sensuous existence as such, -is none the less at the same time essentially a defined existence, -and thereby intrinsically free and living Spirit. Consequently the -embodiment for such an Inward still remains in relation to the -determinacy of the same's content quite as much a wholly external form -and envelopment. Such an external environment, in which an Inward -reposes under a veil, are the pyramids. - -2. In so far, then, as the Inward can be generally envisaged as an -external object to immediate perception, the Egyptians in their -relation to the aspect opposed to this externality have come to worship -a Divine existence in living animals, such as the bull, the cat, and -various others. That which is alive is on a higher plane than the -purely inorganic object, inasmuch as the living organism possesses an -Inward, to which the external shape points, which, however, persists -as an Inward and consequently a realm of mystery. This sacred cult of -animals must consequently be understood as the vision of a secreted -soul[62], which as Life is a power superior to that which is merely -external. To us no doubt it can only appear as a repugnant fact that -animals, dogs and cats, are held sacred instead of that which is truly -spiritual. - -This worship, moreover, has nothing symbolical in it viewed simply as -such; for it is the actual living animal, Apis or the like, which is -here itself revered as the existence of God. The Egyptians, however, -have used the shapes of animals in a symbolical way. In that case -they are no longer valid, simply for what they are, but it is further -assumed that they express a more universal import. We find the most -ingenuous illustration of this in the use of animal masks, which we -find more particularly under representations of embalming, at which -process certain individuals, who take an active part, either in opening -the corpse or removing the intestines, are depicted wearing such masks. -It is obvious that the animal's head is not taken to present the animal -itself, but a significance at the same time distinct from it and more -universal. The forms of animals are also utilized in other ways than -this in admixture with the human form. Human figures are to be found -with heads of lions, which have been interpreted as images of Minerva; -then there are heads of the hawk, and in the heads of Ammon we find -the horns still retained. Examples such as the above obviously imply -symbolical relations. In a like sense the hieroglyphical writing of -the Egyptians is in great measure symbolical, for it either endeavours -to make its meaning comprehensible through the images of real objects -which do not stand for themselves, but a universality which is cognate -with them, or, as is still more frequently the case, in the so-called -phonetic aspect of this style of writing, it signifies particular -letters by means of the specific mark of some external object, whose -initial letter possesses in speech the same tone as that which it is -the intention to express. - -3. And generally it is the fact that in Egypt pretty nearly every -conformation is symbolical and hieroglyphical, expressing not itself -but indicative of something more, with which it possesses affinity, -or in other words a cognate relation. The truest forms of the symbol, -however, are only completely illustrated in such cases where we find -that this relation is of a more profound and fundamental character -than those we have just adverted to. We will now briefly enumerate -a few constantly recurring examples of this more important type of -affiliation. - -(_a_) Precisely as Egyptian belief[63] surmises a mysterious Inwardness -of content in the animal form, we find the human figure represented in -such a way that the most characteristic intension[64] of subjectivity -is still asserted through an external relation, and consequently is -unable to unfold into the freedom of Beauty. Particularly remarkable -in this respect are those colossal figures of _Memnon_ which, reposing -on themselves, motionless, with arms glued to the body, feet close -together, inflexible, stiff and lifeless, are set up face to face -with the sun, waiting for his ray to strike them, animate them, and -make them resonant. Herodotus, at any rate, informs us that these -Memnonic figures emitted a musical note on the sun's rising. The -higher criticism has no doubt expressed itself as sceptical on the -latter point; the fact, however, of a distinct note has recently been -once more established both by Frenchmen and Englishmen; and though it -appears that this echo is no result of previous mechanical ingenuity, -we have an explanation of it in the fact that, as sometimes happens -with minerals which make a crackling noise in water, the tone of these -images of stone is actually produced by the collective action of the -dew, the morning cool, and the subsequent impact of the sun's rays, to -the extent, that is, that tiny fractures appear in the stone which then -again disappear. In any case we may attribute to these colossal shapes -the symbolical import, that they do not possess the spiritual principle -of Life free in themselves, and consequently require that their -animation should be brought to them externally by Light, which alone is -able to unbar the music of their life, instead of having the power to -accept the same from that real soul of Inwardness, which essentially -carries with it measure and beauty. In contrast to them the human -voice is the echo of personal feeling and the soul's self, without any -external stimulant, just as the height of human art generally consists -in the fact that the Inward of Spirit supplies the form thereof from -its own substance. The Inward or soul of the human form is in Egypt -still a mute, and in its animation it is the relation to external -nature which alone commands attention. - -(_b_) A further type of symbolical conception is to be found in Isis -and Osiris. Osiris is an object of procreation and birth, and is done -to death by Typhon. Isis seeks for the scattered members, finds, -collects, and buries them. This mythos of the god has, then, in the -first place as its content purely _natural significance._ From one -point of view, that is to say, Osiris is the sun, and his life-history -stands as symbolic for his yearly course; from another, however, he -signifies the rise and fall of the Nile, which is necessarily the -source of all fruitfulness in Egypt. For in Egypt there may not be a -drop of rain for years together, and it is the Nile which primarily -waters the land by its floods. In winter time it flows but a shallow -stream within its bed; then, however, with the summer-solstice -("Herod.," II, 19) it begins for a hundred days to rise, pours over its -banks and streams far and wide over the land. Finally the water dries -up beneath the sun's heat and the scorching desert winds, and once -more retires to its course. Under such conditions the tillage of the -soil is carried out with ease; the most luxurious vegetation springs -up. Everything buds and ripens. The sun and Nile, and the way both of -them become weak or strong, these are the conspicuous forces of Nature -in this land, which the Egyptian has symbolically depicted under a -human form in the myths of Isis and Osiris. To this type of symbolism, -too, belongs the symbolical representation of the zodiac, which is -associated with the year's course, just as the number of the twelve -gods is bound up with the months. Conversely, however, Osiris typifies -under another aspect the entirely _human._ He is held sacred as the -founder of agriculture, of the division of the soil, property and laws, -and his worship is consequently to an equal extent related to human -activities, which are connected in the closest manner with ethical and -judicial functions. - -In the same way he is judge of the Dead, and secures as such a -significance wholly released from the mere life of Nature, an import -under which the symbolical tends to pass away for the reason that -here the Inward and Spiritual is of itself content of the human form, -which, under such a mode of relation, begins to conserve the Inward -essentially belonging to it, one, that is, which through its external -form signifies merely its own substance. This spiritual process, -however, assumes again in equal measure as its content the external -life of Nature, and, for example, in temples, number of steps, floors, -and pillars, in labyrinths and their passages, windings and chambers, -represents the same in an external manner. Osiris is thus quite as much -the natural as he is the spiritual life in the different phases of his -process[65] and its transformations; and his symbolical embodiments are -partly symbolic of the elements of Nature; while again in part these -changes of Nature are themselves merely symbols of spiritual activities -and their various phases. For this reason, too, the human form persists -here as no mere personification, such as we found to be the-case -previously, because here the natural aspect, albeit from one point of -view it appears as the real significance, yet from another is itself -merely asserted as a symbol of the Spirit; and, generally speaking, -at this stage of conception, where we find that the Inward struggles -to come forth from the sense-vision of Nature, it is in a position of -subordinance. - -For the same reason we find here that the human figure already receives -an entirely different type of elaboration, attesting thereby a real -effort to penetrate the arcana of true Inwardness and Spirit, though -this endeavour also fails as yet to attain its object, that is, the -essential freedom of the Spiritual. And it is by reason of this very -defect that the human figure remains before us with neither freedom nor -serene clarity, colossal, brooding, petrified, legs, arms, and head -glued straitened and tight to the rest of the body, without the grace -or motion of Life. Thus it is that art is first ascribed to Daedalus, -in that he loosed arms and feet from their fetters, and endowed the -body with movement. - -On account of this alternative aspect of symbolism above referred to -symbolism in Egypt is, in addition to its other characteristics, a -totality of symbols in the sense that what in one respect is asserted -as significance is employed as symbol in a sphere cognate with it. This -ambiguous association of a symbolism which makes significance and form -intertwine, which is further actually typical or suggestive of much, -and thereby is already concurrent with that inward subjective sense, -which alone is capable of following such indications in a variety of -directions[66], is the characteristic distinction of these images, -albeit by reason of this ambiguity the difficulty of interpreting them -is of course increased. - -A significance of this type--attempts at deciphering which are -unquestionably nowadays carried too far for the reason that pretty -nearly every kind of form is virtually set before us as symbolical -in some relation--may very possibly from the point of view of the -Egyptians themselves have been clear and intelligible as significance. -But, as we insisted at the very entrance of our inquiry, the -appropriate motto for the interpretation of Egyptian symbolism is -_implicite multum nihil explicite._ There is a type of workmanship -undertaken with the express endeavour that it shall carry its own -interpretation on the forehead, but we only find there evidence of the -effort; it stops short of the essential point of self-illumination. It -is in this sense that we must fix our eyes on the works of Egyptian -art. They contain riddles, the full solution of which is not merely -withheld from ourselves, but was equally beyond the reach of the great -majority of the artists who created them. - -(_c_) The works of Egyptian art in their excessively mysterious -symbolism are therefore riddles, let us rather say the objective -riddle's self. And we may summarily define the _Sphinx_ as symbol of -the real significance of the genius of Egypt. It stands as a symbol for -symbolism itself. In countless numbers, set forth in rows of a hundred -at a time, we come across these Sphinx-forms on Egyptian soil; they -are hewn from the hardest stone, polished, covered with hieroglyphics, -and in the vicinity of Cairo of such colossal dimensions that their -lion-claws alone measure a man's height. Their animal bodies lie in -repose, above which as bust a human body rears itself; now and again -we find the head of a ram, but in the most common case it is that of -a woman. Out of the obtuse strength and robustness of animality the -spirit of man is fain to press forward, albeit still unable to attain -the perfect representation of his own freedom, or a counterfeit of -his body in motion; and this is inevitable, for he is still forced to -remain blended in the company of that Other which confronts himself. -This straining after self-conscious spirituality, which fails to grasp -itself from the truth of its own substance in a form of external -reality which is alone adequate to express it, and instead envisages -and brings the same home to consciousness in that which is merely -cognate with it, but also that which is equally foreign to it, is, in -its general terms, the symbolical; and we find it here concentrated to -a point as the riddle. - -It is in this sense that the Sphinx in the Greek mythos, which itself -again is open to symbolic interpretation, appears as the monster -which propounds its riddle. The sphinx asked here the famous and -problematical question: "Who is it, who walks in the morning on four -legs, at noon upon two legs, and in the evening on three?" Oedipus -discovered the simple answer that it was man himself, and hurled the -sphinx from the rocks. The resolution of the symbol consists in the -illumination of all that is implied in the significance of one word, -Spirit, just as the famous Greek inscription cries out to mankind: -"Know thyself." The light of consciousness is that clarity, which -suffers its concrete content to shine all luminous through the form -which is wholly adapted to unfold it, and in its positive form of -existence simply reveals that which it is in truth. - -[Footnote 37: _Bedeutung_.] - -[Footnote 38: What Hegel means is that calling an aspect of sense -bodily or natural itself implies a distinction from that which is -spiritual, or only cognized by mind, and this distinction is not -present to the earliest human cognition of Divine reality.] - -[Footnote 39: _Das Lichtreine._] - -[Footnote 40: Except in the conceptions of the Hebrew prophets this is -only true subject to qualification even of the God of Israel. For he -was evidently associated with the thunder, to take but one case--the -deliverance of the tables of stone on Sinai.] - -[Footnote 41: _Phantasie_ may often be translated by the word -imagination, but here the element of caprice and dependence on sensuous -image rather than creative impulse directed by a principle of selection -is to be emphasized.] - -[Footnote 42: _Ein Taumel_, _i.e._, the dance as of intoxication.] - -[Footnote 43: This is obviously a difficult passage to follow. The -main thing to remember is that Hegel is here describing the movement -of a dialectical process, that is the purely objective, rather than -the point of view of personal or even national experience. Such vivid -expressions as _Taumel_ and _schamlos hineinrücken_ remind one of the -Platonic dialectic.] - -[Footnote 44: Hegel's editor has Brahman here, but according to a -passage lower down (p. 59) it should rather be Brahmâ.] - -[Footnote 45: _Hinaufschrauben_, lit., a screwing up to--a screwing -that in fact crews the head off.] - -[Footnote 46: _Verdumpfens._ Either Hegel wrote _Verdummens_, or more -probably _Verdampfens._ The idea of "becoming mouldy" makes no sense.] - -[Footnote 47: This I think is the sense, though Hegel expresses it by -using words such as _das Personificieren und Vermenschlichen_, and -lower down _das Subjektiviren._ But previously he has rather contrasted -that false kind of personification which seeks for the significant -in the expression of the subject, his deeds and acts, rather than in -grasping the motive centre of personality, the subjective principle -itself, and it appears more intelligible in a passage, which is -sufficiently hard to follow in any ease, to preserve that contrast.] - -[Footnote 48: There is apparently only one ring and sceptre, but the -words used are capable of the interpretation that would attach one for -each of the hands.] - -[Footnote 49: Hegel cites Wilson's Lexicon, _s.v._ 2.] - -[Footnote 50: _Dem Rhythmus nach_, that is, the Hindoo conception -is entirely superficial, and expresses rather a rhythmic order than -a profound spiritual truth which this number expresses, a truth -which as Hegel has previously observed may be expressed under other -determinations than the numerical.] - -[Footnote 51: _Unstätigkeit_, instability, flightiness, detachment from -a fundamental principle.] - -[Footnote 52: That is Brahmâ apparently.] - -[Footnote 53: The order of the words would strictly mean that the sons -were in the pitchers and it is quite possible that this is the meaning.] - -[Footnote 54: That is, in Greek cosmogony.] - -[Footnote 55: What: _Centimanen_ refers to I do not know, possibly a -name for Arges, Ceropes, and Brontes.] - -[Footnote 56: The sense is "which is not merely (to take the obvious -case of opposition which is, however, _not_ the one here described) -totally outside the Absolute and incidental to," etc. Hegel's words -would admit of the interpretation that this was part of the conception -he is describing. But this is obviously not so, for, in that case, the -negative would be ascribed to both the Absolute and the "other God."] - -[Footnote 57: _Ist Unterscheiden_, is that which involves -differentiation. To posit a quality is to distinguish from other -qualities. A fundamental, aspect of Hegelian logic.] - -[Footnote 58: _Glied_, part of one organic totality.] - -[Footnote 59: Hegel uses an expression somewhat similar to Milton's -"Among the faithless faithful only he." _Den Bisherigen_ refers -primarily, of course, to the Persian and Hindoo peoples.] - -[Footnote 60: _Wie des Innern überhaupt_, _i.e._, the Inward with its -significance as the Absolute.] - - -[Footnote 61: _In seiner Abgeschiedenheit vom Leben_. In other words -the corpse was preserved as still the only appropriate external form of -Life. Though Hegel separates the two aspects of Egyptian belief they -were necessary concomitants of each other.] - -[Footnote 62: I have translated _Innerem_ here by "soul," but it -expresses of course too much if taken strictly in its most personal -sense.] - -[Footnote 63: _Aberglaube_, not "superstition" so much as belief that -is intuitive, not rationally deduced. The emphasis is on _ahnt._] - -[Footnote 64: Hegel puts it in the rather obscure and contradictory way -that the human figure is represented as "still _having_ the most unique -form of subjective intensity (_Das eigenste Innre der Subjectivität_) -outside it."] - -[Footnote 65: That is, the mythological history of the God.] - -[Footnote 66: Lit., "Which alone is able to apply itself (that is, to -the work of interpretation) in a variety of directions."] - - - - -CHAPTER II - - -THE SYMBOLISM OF THE SUBLIME - - -The perspicuity that has no riddles to expound, which is the object -of symbolic art and veritably the mark of Spirit self-clothed to the -perfect measure of its own substance, can only be attained on condition -that first and foremost the significance be presented to consciousness -distinct and separate from all the phenomena of external existence. -To the union of both immediately envisaged we have traced the absence -of art among the ancient Parsees. The contradiction involved in their -severation, followed by the association which it then stimulated -under the mode of immediacy, was the source of the fantastic type of -Hindoo symbolism. Finally, we have seen that in Egypt, too, the free -and unfettered recognition of the Inward principle and a significance -essentially independent from the phenomenon was lacking; and this -resulted in the mystery and obscurity of a symbolism still more -complete. - -The first decisive act of purification, or, in other words, express -separation of the essential substance[67] from the sensuous present, -that is from the empirical facts of external appearance, we must -accordingly seek for in the Sublime, which exalts the Absolute above -every form of immediate existence, and thereby effects that initiatory -mode of its abstract liberation which is the basis of the spiritual -content. As Spirit in its concreteness the significance is not yet -apprehended; but it is, however, conceived as an Inwardness essentially -existent, reposing on its own resources, and of such a nature that -purely finite phenomena are alone inadequate to express its truth. - -Kant has raised a very interesting distinction between the idea of the -sublime and the beautiful; and indeed all that he discusses in the -first part of his critique of the Judgment from the twentieth section -to the end--in spite of its considerable prolixity and its reduction of -every form of determination to a fundamentally subjective principle, -whether it be the content of feeling, imagination, or reason--still -possesses a real interest. We may in fact recognize this very reduction -on the ground of its general principle of relation to be just[68]; in -other words, to borrow Kant's own expressions, if the matter of our -consideration is primarily the Sublime in Nature, it is not in any fact -of Nature, but only in the content of our emotional life that such a -Sublime is to be discovered, and, further, only in so far as we are -conscious of a Nature peculiar to ourselves which involves the added -assumption of one that lies outside of us. The statement of Kant is -to be taken in this sense where he says: "The true sublime cannot be -enclosed in any sensuous form; it is only referable to the ideas of -reason, which, albeit no truly adequate representation can be given -them, are excited and awakened to life within the human soul by just -this very incompatibility of the permissibly sensuous representation -with its object[69]." The sublime is, in short, generally the attempt -to express the infinite, without being able to find an object in -the realm of phenomenal existence such as is clearly fitted for its -representation. The infinite, for the very reason that it is posited -independently as invisible and formless significance in contrast to -the complex manifold of objective fact, and is conceived under the -mode of inwardness, so long as it remains infinite remains indefinable -in speech and sublimely unaffected by every expression of the finite -categories. - -The earliest content, then, which the significance secures at this -stage consists in this, that in contrast to the totality of the -phenomenal it is the essentially substantive _One_, which itself being -pure Thought is only present to thought in its purity. Consequently -it is no longer possible to inform this substance under the mode -of externality, and to that extent all real symbolical character -disappears. If, however, an attempt is made to envisage this essential -unity for sense-perception, such is only possible under a mode of -relation according to which, while retaining its substantive character, -it is further apprehended as the creative force of everything external, -in which it therefore discovers a means of revelation and appearance, -and with which it is accordingly joined in a positive relation. At the -same time it is an essential feature in the expressed content of this -relation that this substance is asserted above all particular phenomena -as such, no less than above their united manifold; from which it then -follows as a still more consequential result that the positive relation -is deposed for one that is _negative_; and the negative consists in -this that a purification of the substance is thus effected from the -phenomenal taken as any particular thing, that is, in other words, that -which is also not appropriate to it and which vanishes within it. - -This mode of giving form, which is annihilated by the very thing which -it would set forth, so that it comes about that the exposition of -content affirms itself as that which renders the exposition null and -void is in fact the _Sublime._ We have therefore not, as we found to be -the view of Kant, to refer the Sublime exclusively to the subjective -content of the soul, and the ideas of reason which belong to it, but -rather form our conception of it as having its fundamental source -in the significance represented, in other words the one absolute -substance. We must, then, further deduce our classification of the -art-type of the Sublime from this twofold relation of the substantive -unity regarded as significance to the phenomenal world. - -The characteristic which is held in common by both aspects of this -relation, whether we view it positively or negatively, consists in this -that the substance is posited above the particular appearance, in which -it is assumed to have found a representation, although it can only be -declared thereby under the form of a relation to the phenomenal in its -general terms, for the reason that as substance and ultimate essence -it is itself essentially without form and out of the reach of concrete -external existence. We may describe _pantheistic_ art as the first or -affirmative mode of conception at this stage, a type of conception -which we come across partly in India, and also to some extent in the -liberal atmosphere and mysticism of the more modern poets of Persian -Mohammedanism, and finally in the still profounder intensity of thought -and emotion which characterizes it when it reappears in western -Christianity. - -Generally, defined substance is cognized at this stage as immanent in -all its created accidents, which for this reason are not as yet deposed -to a mere relation of service, viewed simply, that is, as an ornament -of glory to the Absolute, but are affirmatively conserved by virtue -of the indwelling substance; and this is so albeit it is the One and -the Divine alone which is set forth and exalted in all particularity. -By this means the poet, who contemplates and reveres this unity in -all things, and sinks his own individuality, no less than every other -object in this contemplation, is able to maintain a positive relation -to the substance, with which he associates all other objects. - -The _second_ or _negative_ celebration of the Power and Glory of the -one God is that genuine type of Sublimity which we find in Hebrew -poetry. In this the positive immanence of the Absolute in the created -phenomena is done away with, and in place thereof we have the _one_ -substance independently affirmed as sovereign Lord of the world, who -subsists over against the universe of His creations, which are posited -under a relation to this Supreme Being of essential and evanescent -powerlessness. If under such a view any representation is attempted of -the Power and Wisdom of this Unity under the form of the finite objects -of Nature and human destinies, we find nothing here that resembles the -Hindoo's distortion of such objects by the unlimited accretion to their -measure. The Sublimity of God is rather brought home to our senses by -means of a representation whose entire object is to show us that all -that exists in definite guise, with all its splendour, embellishment -and glory, is a loyal accident in His service, a show that vanishes -before the Divine essence and consistency. - - - - -A. THE PANTHEISM OF ART - - -Anyone who makes use of the word pantheism nowadays exposes himself -thereby to the grossest misunderstanding. For, to take but one aspect -of the difficulty, this word "all" signifies generally in our modern -acceptation of the term "all, and everything in its wholly empirical -particularity." We have at once recalled to us, for example, this -particular box with all its attributes, its specific colour, size, -form and weight, or that particular house, book, animal, table, -stool, oven, streak of cloud and so on, to the end of the list. When -we consequently find the charge advanced by not a few of our modern -theologians against philosophy, that it makes a God of everything in -general, it is quite obvious that this "everything" is taken in the -sense we have just adverted to, and this it is which is thus bodily -thrust upon her shoulders. In one word the complaint which attaches -to it is absolutely unwarranted. Such a conception of pantheism only -exists in the heads of stupidity, and is not discoverable in any form -of religion whatever, not even in those of the Iroquois and Esquimaux, -to say nothing of any philosophy. The "Everything" in what has been -termed pantheism is therefore neither this nor that particular thing, -but rather "Everything" in the sense of the "_All_," that is the One -substantive essence, which no doubt is immanent in particular things, -but is cognized in abstraction from their singularity and its empirical -reality, so that it is not the particular as such, but the universal -animating essence or soul, or to adopt a more popular way of speaking, -it is the true and the excellent, both equally a real presence in this -particular thing, which are here affirmed and indicated. - -This it is which constitutes the real meaning of pantheism, and we -shall only have occasion now to employ the expression in this sense. It -applies first and foremost to the Orient, whose type of conception is -based on the thought of an absolute unity of Godhead and of everything -else as subsisting in this Unity. As such Unity and All the Divine -can only be presented to consciousness by means of the ever recurrent -evanescence of the limited number of particular objects, in which -its Presence is expressed. On the one hand we have here the Divine -envisaged as immanent in the most diverse objects, whether it be life -or death, mountain or sea, and with still closer intimacy no doubt -as the most excellent and pre-eminent among and in all determinate -existence. On the other hand, inasmuch as the One is this and again -that other and that other beyond it, and in short is discharged into -everything, all particular existence appears for that reason to be -a thing which is cancelled and vanishes, for no particular is alone -this One, but this One is this manifold of particulars which pass away -before semi-perception, as such particulars into the universe which -comprises them. For if the One is Life, it is also at another point -Death, and is to that extent not merely life, so that it is neither -as life nor the sun nor the sea that these or any other objective -realities constitute the Divine and One. At the same time we do not -find here, as in the genuine type of the Sublime, that the accidental -is expressly posited in the negative relation of mere service. So -far from this being so, substance is essentially identified with one -particular and accidental existence, inasmuch as it is this One in -everything. Conversely, however, this very particular, because it -is equally subject to change, and the imagination does not restrict -substance to one definite existence, but moves over every definition, -letting it fall that it may advance to another, is thereby relegated -in its turn to the accidental, over which the One is superposed in the -sublimity thus conjoined with it. - -Such a way of viewing existence therefore can only be expressed in art -through poetry; the plastic arts are closed to it, inasmuch as they -bring before the vision the definite and particular, which in their -contrast to the substance present in the objects of Nature has to be -given up in a determinate and persistent form. Where we find pantheism -in its purity no plastic art is found as a mode of its presentation. - -1. Once more we may adduce, as a first example of such pantheistic -poetry, the literature of the Hindoos, which along with its fantastic -symbolism has also elaborated the type of art under discussion with -distinction. In other words the Hindoo race, as we have seen, proceed -in their conceptions from the point of most abstract universality and -unity, which is then carried forward to the specific shaping of gods -such as Trimûrtis, Indras, and the rest. This process of definition, -however, is not adhered to with constancy; but to a like extent is -suffered once more to break up, so that we find inferior gods are -absorbed in superior gods, and the highest of all in Brahman. From -this it is sufficiently obvious that this Universal constitutes the -one persistent and unalterable basis of all. And if, as we freely -admit, the Hindoos evince the twofold impulse in their poetry, namely, -either to exaggerate the particular existence, in order that it may -appear to the senses compatible with the significance of the Absolute, -or, in the converse case, to suffer every form of definition to pass -as mere negation when contrasted with the one abstraction of Being, -yet at the same time there is another aspect of their literature, in -which we also find artistic representation under the purer mode of -imaginative pantheism we have just described, a mode in which the -immanence of the Divine is exalted above all particular existence -in which it is presented to sense and which as such disappears. We -may no doubt be rather inclined to recognize in this later mode of -conception a certain similarity with that type of the immediate unity -of pure thought which we found to be characteristic of the religious -consciousness of the Parsees. Among the Parsees, however, the One -and Excellent is conserved in its independence as itself a fact of -Nature, that is, Light. With the Hindoos, on the contrary, the One, -or Brahman, is merely the formless One; and this it is which in its -transformations through the infinite variety of the phenomenal world, -first gives rise to the pantheistic mode of representation. So we read -of _Krishna_ (_Bhagavad-Gita_, Lect. VII, II. 4 _et seq._): "Earth, -water and wind, air and fire, reason and egoity are the eight pieces -of my essential force; yet knowest thou somewhat more in me, a more -exalted essence, which animates the earthly and supports the world. In -it all existences have their origin. Ay, verily, thou knowest I am the -origin of the entire universe as also its annihilation. Aught higher -than myself is not; in me is this All conjoined together, as a chaplet -of pearls on a thread. I am the taste of sweetness in all that flows; -I am the splendour in the sun and moon, the mystic Word in the sacred -writings, manhood in man, the clean savour in the Earth, brightness -in flame, in all Being Life, meditation in all who repent. In that -which has Life the Power of Life, in the wise Wisdom, in the glorious -Glory. Everything that is true of its kind, and everything that is -specious and obscure proceeds out of me. I am not in them, but they are -in me. Through the illusion of these three qualities all the world is -made foolish, and knows me not who am unalterable. Moreover also the -Divine illusion, even Mâya, is my own illusion, which is hard indeed to -surpass, albeit all who follow after me step over this illusion." In -this passage we have indicated in the most striking terms just such a -substantive unity as the one above discussed, not merely from the point -of view of its immanence in immediate sense, but also from that of its -advance beyond and over all singularity. - -In a similar manner _Krishna_ affirms of himself that He is the most -Excellent among all the different forms of existence (Lect. X, 21): -"Among the star's I am the radiant sun, among the human signs the -moon, among the sacred Books the Book of Hymns, among the senses -the spiritual, Meru among the tops of the mountains, the lion among -animals, the vowel A among all letters, among the seasons of the year -the blooming spring-time, etc." - -This enumeration, however, of superlative excellence, and we may add -the description of that which is merely a change of forms, among -which it is always one and the same thing that is envisaged, despite -any superficial appearance such may give us at first of a prodigal -imagination, is none the less, by reason of this very equality of -content, extremely monotonous and in general empty and tedious. - -2. Under a higher mode and in a freer manner from the subjective point -of view we find, _secondly_, oriental pantheism is elaborated in -Mohammedanism more particularly among the _Persians._ - -And here we are confronted with a relation of some singularity when we -direct our attention expressly to the point of view of the individual -poet. - -(_a_) To explain this more fully we would point out that so long as -the poet yearns to behold the Divine in everything, and really so -beholds it, he also surrenders his own personality; but, while doing -so, he realizes quite as vividly the immanence of the Divine in his -spiritual world thus expanded and delivered; and consequently there -grows up within him that joyful ardour of the soul, that liberal -happiness, that revel of bliss, which is so peculiar to the Oriental, -who in freeing himself from his own particularity seems wholly to -sink himself in the Eternal and Absolute, and henceforth to know -and feel the image and presence of the Divine in all things. Such a -self-absorption in the Divine, such an intoxicated life of bliss in -God borders closely on mysticism. Under this aspect no volume is more -famous than the Oschelaleddin-Rumi, of which Rückert, with the help of -his marvellous powers of expression, which enable him to make light of -both words and rhymes with all the wealth and freedom of the phantasy -that comes so natural to the Persian poet, has supplied us with the -fairest examples. Love to God, with whom man identifies himself in most -boundless surrender, beholding Him as the One through every part of His -Universe, with whom and to whom every and each thing is related and -referred--this it is that gives us the focus of this type of thought, a -centre which radiates in every direction. - -(_b_) And, further, while in the true type of the sublime, as will -appear shortly, the most excellent objects and the most glorious -shapes are employed merely as the ornament of God, and as servants to -celebrate the splendour and majesty of the One, being set before our -eyes to do Him honour as Lord of all creation, in pantheism, on the -contrary, it is the immanence of the Divine in external fact which -exalts the determinate existence itself of the world, Nature, and -humanity to its own self-substantial glory. The identical Life of -Spirit in the phenomena of Nature and all human relations animates and -spiritualizes the same in their own nature, and is further the source -of that characteristic attitude of subjective feeling in the soul of -the poet toward the objects he celebrates in his song. Suffused with -the animating influx of this glory the soul is essentially serene, -independent, free, secure in its comprehension and greatness; and -in this positive identification of itself with such qualities it -penetrates imaginatively with its life into the very heart of objective -existence, sharing the restful unity that it finds there, and grows up -in most blissful, most blithesome intimacy with the natural world and -its munificence, with the drinking-booth no less than the beloved, -and, in short, all that is held worthy of praise or affection. We find, -no doubt, the same kind of self-absorption in the romantic temperament -of the West. Generally speaking, however, and more particularly in -the North, it is not so gladsome, spontaneous, or free from yearning; -or, at least, it remains more exclusively shut up in itself, and is -consequently selfish and sentimental. A spiritual mood of this type, in -its depression and gloom, finds its most forceful outlet in the popular -songs of barbarous peoples. The spontaneous and joyful emotional -atmosphere is, on the contrary, congenial to the East, and particularly -characteristic of the Mohammedan Persians, who openly and gladly -surrender themselves with all their soul to the Divine influence, and -indeed to everything that appears to merit such devotion, while they -do not fail to retain the freedom of independence in such surrender, -and consciously to preserve the same in their attitude to the world and -all that surrounds them. We may, in fact, observe in the ardour of this -passion, the most expansive ecstasy and parrhesia[70] of the emotional -life, through which, in its inexhaustible wealth of gorgeous and -splendid images, one emphatic note of joy, beauty, and happiness rings -again and again. If the Oriental suffers or is unfortunate he takes -his reverses as the unalterable fiat of Destiny, and falls back upon -the strength of his own resources without any increase of depression, -sensitiveness, or vexation of spirit. In the poetry of Hafis we hear -often enough of the lover's woes and laments[71], as of many another -kind, but our poet persists through grief, no less than in happiness, -as free of care as ever. This is the mood of that sometime refrain: - -/$ - For thanks, in that the present glow - Of friendship circles thee, - Light strong the taper e'en in woe, - And joyful be. -$/ - -The taper teaches us both to laugh and to weep; it laughs through the -flame of shining merriment, albeit it melts at the same time in hot -tears; in the act of consumption it spreads wide the brightness of -joviality. This is also the general character throughout of this type -of poetry. - -Among the objects frequently referred to in Persian poetry we -may mention flowers and jewels, and, above all, the rose and the -nightingale. It is a matter of frequent occurrence to represent the -nightingale as bridegroom of the rose. This gift of personality to the -rose and love to the nightingale may be abundantly illustrated from -Hafis. "Out of gratefulness, O rose," he sings, "that thou art the -sultana of Beauty, see to it that thou settest not a proud face to the -love of the nightingale." The poet himself speaks of the nightingale -of his own soul. When we of the West, on the contrary, refer in our -poetry to roses, nightingales, or wine, and such matters, we do so in -a wise much nearer to prose. The rose merely serves us for ornament, -as in the expression, among others, "garlanded with roses." If we -listen to the nightingale it is but to follow the bird with our own -emotions; we think of the grape-juice, and call it "the breaker of -our cares." Among the Persians, however, the rose is no mere image or -ornament, no symbol, but itself appears to the poet as possessed with a -soul, as loving bride, and he transpierces with his spirit the rose's -very heart. Precisely the same character of a gorgeous Pantheism is -still impressed on the most modern Persian poems. Herr von Hammer, for -instance, has given us a description of a poem which was forwarded, -among other gifts of the Shah, to the Emperor Francis in the year 1819. -It contains an account of the exploits of the Shah in 33,000 distiches, -who made a present of his own name to the Court poet in question. - -(_c_) Goethe, too--here in contrast with the more perturbed atmosphere -and the concentrated emotion of the poetry of his youth--was carried -away in advanced age by the breadth of this careless and blithesome -spirit; and though already a veteran, swept through by the breath -of the East, dedicated the evening glow of his poetic passion, in a -flood of extraordinary fervour to this freedom of emotion which, even -where controversy is the sub ect-matter, still retains the beauty of -its careless temper. The songs of his Westöstlicher Divan, are by no -means the mere play of trivial social urbanities, but originate in a -precisely similar spirit of free and unrestrained emotion. In a song of -his to Suleica they are thus described by himself: - -/$ - Pearls from the poet, - Thine is the treasure, - Thine was the big swell - Of passion tumultuous, - Which strewed them on desolate - Strand of his life. - Gold-tips I call it, - Pierced with bright jewels, - Tenderly conned o'er - By tapering fingers. -$/ - -"Take them," he exclaims to his beloved: - -/$ - Circle thy neck with them, - Close, close to thy breast! - These raindrops of Allah - The meek shell hath ripened. -$/ - -Poetry such as this is the product of an experience of the widest -range, a sense which has held its own in many storms, a depth and also, -too, a youth of the heart--in other words: - -/$ - World of Life's own drift of forces, - World, the wealth of whose wave-roll - Caught afar the bulbul's passion, - Won the song which shook the soul. -$/ - -3. In this unity of pantheism, moreover, if emphasized in its relation -to _personal_ life, which feels itself united with God thereby, and -the Divine as this presence intuitively cognized, we have, speaking -generally, that type of _mysticism_ which, under this more intimate -mode, has also been elaborated in the pale of Christendom. We will -adduce but one example, namely, that of Angelus Silecius, who, with the -greatest audacity and depth of conception and emotional fervour, has -expressed the essential presence of God in objective Nature, the union -of the self with God, and the Divine with human personality, with an -extraordinary power of mystical presentment. The more genuine type of -Oriental pantheism, on the contrary, is inclined to insist more upon -the vision of the One substance in all phenomena and the self-surrender -of the individual, who thereby secures the most supreme expansion of -conscious life no less than the bliss of absorption into all that is -most noble and excellent by virtue of the absolute release from all -finitude. - -B. THE ART OF SUBLIMITY - -The One substance, however, which is here conceived as the real -significance of the entire universe, is only truly posited as -_substance_ where we find it suffered to retire into itself as pure -Inwardness and substantive Power out of its presence and realization -beneath the shifting forms of the phenomenal, and thereby is _set -forth_ in self-consistency as against all finitude. It is not till -we come to this intuitive vision of the essence of God as absolutely -Spiritual and apart from all image, and thus opposed to the things of -the World and Nature, that the Spiritual is completely wrested from all -that pertains to mere sense-perception and Nature, and delivered from -determinate existence in the finite. While conversely, however, the -absolute substance still maintains a relation to the phenomenal world -from which it is reflected back upon itself. In this relation is now -asserted that _negative_ aspect already adverted to, which consists -in this, that the entire universe, despite all the fulness, power, -and glory of its phenomenal contents, is expressly affirmed in its -relation to substance as that which is essentially of a purely negative -subsistence, a creation of God, subject to His power and service. The -world is therefore envisaged as the revelation of God, and He is the -_Goodness_ which permits the created thing that has no essential claim -to exist, none the less to exist in relation to Himself, nay, further -to have independent existence and thereby freely to conserve Him. This -conservation on the part of the finitude, however, is without real -substance, and in opposition to God the creature is here assumed to -be that which passes away and is powerless, so that at the same time -its _claim to existence_[72] is exhibited as a part of the goodness of -the Creator, which not only veritably affirms the impotence of that -which is essentially nothing apart from Himself, but thereby asserts -His substance as the source of all Power. It is this relation, so far -as it is set forth by art as the fundamental relation, both of content -and form, which brings before us the art-type of the real _Sublime._ -The Beauty of the Ideal and Sublimity no doubt present features of -contrast. In the Ideal the Inward transpierces external reality, whose -inward essence it really is under the mode at least, that both aspects -are adequate to each other, and consequently appear to be in perfect -fusion with one another. In the Sublime, on the contrary, the external -existence, in which substance is envisaged for sense, is deposed -in its opposition to that substance, such deposition and vassalage -constituting the only mode, by means of which the God who is in His own -seclusion without form, and in His positive essence incapable of being -expressed by aught that is of the world and finite, can be envisualized -by artistic means. The Sublime pre-supposes the significance in the -self-subsistence of One, in relation to which externality is defined as -in subjection, in so far as that Inward substance fails to appear, but -its transcendent character is so asserted, that in the end nothing can -be represented save just this essential and active transcendency[73]. - -In the symbol the mode of the _external form_ was the main point -emphasized. It must possess a significance, and yet fail completely -to express it. In contrast to symbol of this kind and its obscure -content we have now a _significance_ in the absolute sense of the -term conjoined with its full recognition. A work of art is now the -actual discharge of pure essence conceived as the intensive purport of -everything, of an essence, however, which deliberately affirms that -very incompatibility of form to significance, which was only implicitly -present in the symbol, to be the actually transcendent significance of -God Himself within the sphere of worldly existence, and above all that -is contained therein. - -It is a significance which is therefore sublime in the work of art, -which is exclusively concerned to express the same as thus explicitly -declared. We may no doubt with justice accept the description of -"_sacred_," as applicable generally to symbolical art, in so far as it -accepts the Divine as comprised in the content of its productions; but -the art of the Sublime alone can make good its claim to the distinction -without any deduction, for it is here alone that God receives all the -honour. In this sphere, owing to the fundamental character of the -significance implied, the content is generally of a more restricted -nature than that we find in genuine symbolism, whose relation to -the Spiritual is that of an effort and nothing more, and which in -the continuously shifting nature of its relations to to the world -offers such a wide field, either for transformations of that which is -spiritual into natural images, or of that which is essentially material -under accordant fusion with the Spirit. - -We find as nowhere else this art of the Sublime, as a mode of its -original appearance, in the religious conceptions of the Hebrew race -and their sacred poetry. We say poetry advisedly, because plastic art -cannot possibly be in question here, where it is assumed that no image -whatever is adequate to express the nature of the Divine, and that -the part of poetry alone by means of the spoken or written word can -be employed for such a purpose. A closer examination of this type of -religious conception will secure to us the following points of view -most worthy of our general attention. - -1. If we look at the content of this poetry under the aspect of its -most universal import, one of our first conclusions will be that God, -as Lord of a world created to serve Him, is not conceived as incarnated -in any form of the external, but rather as personality withdrawn -from all determinate and worldly existence into the solitude of His -pure Unity. For this reason that[74] which in genuine symbolism was -still associated with supreme Unity, falls apart under the view we -are considering into its twofold aspect, on one side the abstract -subsistency of God, on the other the concrete existence of the world. - -(_a_) Now God Himself as this pure self-subsistency of the One -substance is essentially without form, and under this abstract -conception cannot be brought closer to the envisagement of sense. That -which therefore the imagination is able to seize at this stage is -not the Divine content viewed under the aspect of its pure essence, -inasmuch as this latter precludes the possibility of artistic -representation under any form adequate to it whatever. The only content -therefore that is left open to it is that of the _relation_ of God to -His created world. - -(_b_) God is the creator of the universe. This is the purest expression -of the Sublime itself. In other words we find that here for the first -time all those fanciful conceptions of _generation_ and purely physical -_procreation_ of external fact by God disappear. Each and all give -place to the thought of creation by virtue of spiritual power and -activity. "God spake: Let there be Light, and there was Light." A -sentence dong ago cited, as a striking illustration of the Sublime by -Longinus. And such indeed it is. The Lord of all, the One substance, -proceeds, it is true, under the mode of self-expression; but the type -of this bringing forth is the purest, nay, a mode of expression, -aetherial so to speak, and without material form, the Word that is to -say, the medium of thought as the ideal Power, in conjunction with -whose mandate that it shall exist, the existing thing is veritably and -immediately posited under the relation of tacit obedience. - -(_c_) Into this created world, however, God is not conceived to pass -over as into His reality; rather He abides withdrawn behind Himself, -albeit this opposition supplies no secure ground for a logically -developed dualism. For that which has been brought into being is His -work, possesses no self-consistency as apart from Him. It is solely a -witness to _His_ Wisdom, Goodness, and Justice in general, just that -and no more. The One is Lord over all; His dwelling is not in the facts -of Nature. They are solely the accidents of His Greatness, without -potency in themselves, which can indeed suffer the show of His essence -to appear, but are unable to make the reality of it visible[75]. And -this it is which constitutes the Sublime in its reference to the Divine. - -2. Moreover, inasmuch as the one God is thus severed from the -concreteness of the phenomenal world and posited in isolated fixity, -while the externality of determinate existence is on its side defined -and placed in subordination as the finite, both natural and human -existence are now viewed under the novel aspect that they cannot be -conceived as manifesting the Divine without at the same time making -visible their essential finiteness. - -(_a_) The most direct way of bringing home to ourselves the -significance of the above contrasted relations may be expressed in the -statement that here for the first time we have Nature and the human -form set before us _cut off from the Divine_, prosaic fact in short. -It is a Greek tale that when the heroes of the Argonautic Expedition -passed in their ships through the straits of the Hellespont, the -rocks which hitherto had crashed open and shut like shears suddenly -came to a standstill rooted firmly for evermore in the ground. In a -manner somewhat similar the process of the finite toward stability in -intelligible definition, as contrasted with the infinite essence, moves -onward in the sacred poetry of the Sublime, while in the conceptions of -symbolism, where we have the finite overturned in the Divine and the -latter quite as frequently thrust forth from its own substance into -temporal existence, nothing is permitted to keep its due position. If -we turn, for example, from ancient Hindoo poetry to the Old Testament -we find ourselves at once in a totally different atmosphere, one -in which we feel ourselves thoroughly at home, however much we may -discover in the circumstances, events, actions, and characters an -environment either alien or different to that in which we live. From a -world of tumble and confusion we are transported to another, and have -human figures presented to us, which appear as natural as those we see -with our eyes, characters with the stable outlines of patriarchal life, -which in the truth of their delineation stand so near that they receive -an immediate assent from our intelligence. - -(_b_) In a general view of existence such as the above which is able -to grasp the natural process of life and to accept as valid the claim -of natural laws, _wonder_ for the first time is a really active -force. In Hindooism everything is a wonder and consequently is no -longer wonderful. No wonder can enter a world where the intelligible -connection of facts is invariably broken, where everything is wrested -from its place and turned topsy-turvy. For the wonderful presupposes -the rational sequence of events no less than the clear perceptions of -ordinary consciousness which, when it meets with some example of causal -effect produced by a higher law breaking the customary chain of events -now for the first time notifies the exception as a wonder. Wonders of -this kind, however, are no real or specific expression of the Sublime, -for the reason that the ordinary course of natural phenomena is -conceived as quite as much the product of the Will of God and evidence -of Nature's submission as such interruption of the same. - -(_c_) We must rather look for the real Sublime in the fact that under -this view the entire created world is limited in time and space, with -no independent stability or consistency, and as such an adventitious -product which exists solely to celebrate the praise of Almighty God. - -3. This recognition of the nullity of objective fact and the exaltation -and extolment of God are at this stage the source of man's _own_ -self-respect, and in these he looks for his own consolation and -satisfaction. - -(_a_) In this connection the Psalms supply us with classical examples -of the genuine Sublime, and are set forth as a precedent for all -times of what our humanity at the highest point of its spiritual -exultation has superbly expressed as the reflection of its religious -consciousness. Nothing in the world can here make good its claim to -independent subsistence, inasmuch as everything exists and subsists -simply through the Power of God, and only exists as in duty bound to -extol His mightiness no less than to acknowledge its own essential -nothingness. In the imagination of pantheism, which mainly unfolded in -the direction of material substance an infinite _extension_ of range -was most remarkable: what we most are amazed at here is the power of -spiritual exaltation which suffers everything else to fall away that -it may declare the unique Almightiness of God. An extraordinarily -forceful illustration of this temper is the 104th Psalm, "The Light is -Thy mantle which Thou wearest; Thou spreadest out the heavens like a -carpet, etc." Light, heavens, clouds, the pinions of the winds, each -and all are here nothing by themselves, merely an external vesture, the -chariot or messenger in the service of God. A further expansion of the -same idea is the extolment of the Wisdom of God, which has ordained -all things. The springs, which leap from their sources, the waters, -which flow between the hills, by the banks of which the birds of the -air sit and carol among the branches; the grassy vine, which gladdens -the heart of men and the cedars of Lebanon which the Lord hath planted; -the sea, and its swarms without number; the whales which sport therein, -all these hath the Lord made. And all that God has created He also -preserves. "Thou hidest Thy Face, and they are affrighted; Thou takest -their breath away and they are gone and become again as dust." The 90th -Psalm, that prayer of Moses, the man of God, insists expressly on the -nothingness of man, where we read: "Thou sufferest them to pass away -like a brook; they are like as a sleep, even as the grass, which is -soon withered, and in the evening is cut down and dried up. Thy scorn -maketh us to pass away; Thou showest Thine anger and we are gone." - -(_b_) Two ideas are therefore associated together with the Sublime, -if viewed in its relation to the human soul, first, that of man's -finiteness, and secondly, that of the insurmountable aloofness of God. - -(_α_) For this reason the idea of _immortality_ is not to be found -where this mode of conception obtains in its original purity; for this -idea involves the assumption that the individual self, the soul, the -spirit of man is essentially a self-subsistent entity. In the religion -of the Sublime it is only the One that is apprehended as imperishable; -opposed to that all else merely subsists and passes away, is neither -essentially free nor infinite. - -(_β_) And, further, on a similar ground man is conceived in his -absolute _unworthiness_ before God; his exaltation consists in the fear -of the Lord, in a trembling before His scorn. Over and over again, with -a directness which tears aside every veil and opens the very depths, we -have the cry of the soul to God depicted, the sorrow over the sense of -its nothingness, increasing lament and groanings unutterable. - -(_γ_) On the other hand if the individual persist in his finiteness of -opposition to God, this deliberately willed persistence is wickedness, -which as _evil_ and _sin_ belongs only to the natural and human -condition, and is conceived as remote from the One undifferentiated -substance as pain and everything else that is essentially negative. - -(_c_) _Thirdly_, however, within this very condition of spiritual -nakedness, and, in despite of it, man secures a freer and more -independent position. On the one hand out of the fundamental repose and -constancy of God viewed in reference to His Will and the commands which -that Will imposes upon humanity, arises the _Law_; while under another -point of view the wholly unambiguous distinction between that which is -human and that which is Divine, between the finite and the Absolute, is -implied in this type of human exaltation. Therewith the judgment upon -good and evil, and the onus of decision in respect to either the one or -the other is transferred to the individual soul itself. This relation -to the Absolute, and the question it involves as to the fittingness or -unfittingness of man over against the same presents, therefore, also -an aspect, which applies to the individual himself, his own behaviour -and action. In other words we may trace in man's rightful acts and his -following of the Law a relation to God which is, side by side with -the former one, an affirmative relation, a relation which has to -bring generally the external condition of his existence, whether it -be positive or negative, weal, enjoyment and satisfaction, or pain, -unhappiness and oppression into union with the obedience of his heart -or his stubbornness of spirit against the Law, and accept the same in -the one case as favour and reward, in the other as trial and punishment. - -[Footnote 67: _Des An-und-für-sich-seyenden, i.e._, the explicit -content of all that is implied in actuality cognized as an object in -itself.] - -[Footnote 68: According to Hegel the conception of Kant is right in -that (_a_) He makes the Sublime to consist in a relation between the -phenomenal fact and something which it is not; and (_b_) that he lays -it down that no mere representation by means of phenomenal form can -adequately express it. He is wrong, however, in that he refers the -Sublime for its source wholly to the subjective content, _i.e._, that -Nature which is peculiar to ourselves (_in uns._)] - -[Footnote 69: "Critique of the Judgment," 3rd ed., p. 77.] - -[Footnote 70: Parrhesia, _i.e._, πἀρρἥσια,--speaking freely or beyond -ordinary bound.] - -[Footnote 71: _Den Schenken_ should be _die Schenken_, and a few -lines below _der Kerze_ should be _die Kerze._ I omit the _Schenken_ -altogether. Of course it is possible _der Kerze_ is Genitive, "in the -woe of the taper," and the verb intransitive; but this is very harsh.] - -[Footnote 72: This appears to be the meaning of _Garechtigkeit._] - -[Footnote 73: _Sondern so darüber hinausgeht, dass eben nichts als -dieses Hinauseyn und Hinausgehen zur Darstellung kommen kann._ That -is, the art of the Sublime is based essentially on a contradiction, -for while it assumes the One substance to be the significance of the -external world, it is the truth of that significance that it points to -that which transcends externality.] - -[Footnote 74: The thought here is not strictly logical. What is -associated by symbolism with Unity is the external Other, what is -divided by Hebraic conception is the entire content of the Real -both in its spiritual and external aspect. But the general sense is -sufficiently clear.] - -[Footnote 75: This I take to be the point of the contrast between the -words _scheinen_ and _erscheinen_.] - - - - -CHAPTER III - - -THE CONSCIOUS SYMBOLISM OF THE COMPARATIVE TYPE OF ART - - -The result we have now arrived at in the above consideration of the -Sublime, and in contradistinction to the strictly unpremeditated -type of symbolization, consists partly in the _separation_ of its -own independent Inwardness, consciously apprehended in its quality -of significance, from the concrete appearance that is thereby -distinguished from it, partly also in the direct or indirect -affirmation of the _incompatibility_ of the two above mentioned -aspects to one another, by which it appears that the significance as -the universal passes beyond the particular fact and its singularity. -But in the imagination of pantheism, no less than in the type of the -Sublime, the real content, that is the One universal substance of all -concrete existence, was unable to be presented to imaginative vision -or sense-perception without some relation to created existence, albeit -created under a mode inadequate to express the essence of that Unity. -This relation, however, was attached to the substance itself, which, -in the negativity of its accidents, supplied the proof of its Wisdom, -Goodness, Power, and Justice[76]. For this reason the relation between -significance and content is also in the case of the Sublime, at least -in a general way, of a kind that is both _essential_ and _necessary_, -and the two sides thus linked with each other are not yet, in the -strict sense of the term, external to each other. It is, however, -inevitable, for the reason that it is implicitly present in symbolism, -that this externality should come to be directly posited and appear -in the forms we have now to consider in this concluding chapter on the -art of symbolism. We may summarily describe them as _conscious_[77] -symbolism, or, in a still more direct way, the _comparative_ type of -art. - -In other words, what we understand by conscious symbolism is this, -that the significance is not merely independently cognized, but is -_expressly_ set forth as distinct from the external mode, in which it -is represented. The significance then appears, as in the case of the -Sublime, to receive an independent expression which is not essentially -in the actual embodiment given to it under the mode employed[78]. -The relation, however, of both to one another no longer continues -to be, as in the type last examined, a mode of relation which is -fundamentally due to the significance itself, but is a more or less -haphazard association, which may generally be expressed as the product -of the _subjectivity_ of the poet, the absorption of his spirit in an -external object, the result of his wit or invention; a mode, in short, -which enables the poet at one time rather to make a beginning directly -from a sensible phenomenon, and to imagine for it from his own mind -a spiritual significance cognate with it, and at another to select -in preference as his point of departure the real or only relatively -personal idea, with a view to embodying the same, or even to do nothing -more than relate one image with another, which presents characteristic -features of resemblance. - -This kind of linking together must consequently be distinguished from -that still naïve and _unconscious_ symbolism in virtue of the fact that -now the individual recognizes the inward essence of the significances -he adopts for the content of his creation no less than, the positive -nature of the external objects, which he employs as means of comparison -for the more direct presentment of the same, placing both in this -juxtaposition with clear intention owing to the similarity he has -discovered between them. The distinction, on the other hand, between -the present type and that of the Sublime is rather to be traced to the -fact that though under one aspect it may be true that the separation -and juxtaposition of the significances with their concrete shaping in -the work of art is itself set forth in express relief to a less or -higher degree, yet, on the other hand, for the reason that it is no -longer the Absolute itself that is accepted as content, but any defined -and restricted significance whatever, the typical relation of the -Sublime falls away, and in its place a relation is set up within the -act of severance thus intentionally made between the real significance -and its embodiment, a relation which in effect produces the very result -in the sphere of premeditated comparison that we found unconscious -symbolism in its own way proposed as an object. - -In one word, so far as _content_ is here concerned, the Absolute -itself, _the Lord of creation_, can no longer be conceived as the -significance which Art seeks after. That this is so is rendered -inevitable by the already obvious fact that on account of the -severation of more concrete existence from the notion, and further, -if only under the mode of comparison, the juxtaposition of both sides -thus separated, the category of_finitude_ is there and then accepted -by the artistic consciousness, in so far as it conceives this form -as the real and ultimate one; and for this reason, moreover, the -imagined significances, being selected wholly from the sphere of the -finite, have no further association whatever with the Absolute as the -fundamental significance of all created things. Sacred poetry stands -out in entire contrast to this, for in this God is the exclusive -significance of all things; as set over against Him, they have -no stability at all, but vanish or are nothing. If, however, the -significance is able to discover its image and parallel of resemblance -in that which is itself essentially _restricted_ and finite, it follows -that it must itself to that extent be limited in its range, as, in -fact, it is in the type of symbolic conception which now occupies our -attention, where that which is found is nothing more than an image, -necessarily external to the content, selected purely at random by the -poet for the sake of the _similarity_ it presents to the content, and -as such regarded as relatively adequate thereto. For this reason there -is but one trait left us in the comparative type of art, which is also -shared by that of the Sublime, and it is this that every image, instead -of embodying the fact and significance directly under a mode adequate -to their full reality, is only taken to present an image and similitude -of either. - -For these reasons this kind of symbolization is, if we conceive it -apart as an independent whole, a generic class of subordinate rank. -The form which it supplies is merely the descriptive selection of a -portion of sensuous existence immediately perceived, or of a prosaic -idea of the mind[79], in other words, the significance is expressly to -be distinguished from it. And, further, in a measure such an employment -of comparison in works of art, which are shaped out of homogeneous -material, and in their specific form constitute an indivisible whole, -can only assert itself as relatively valid, that is, as mere ornament -and accessory, such as we find it, in fact, in the genuine products of -classic and romantic art. - -It is a further consequence that if we regard the entire sphere of -this type as the union of the two stages which preceded it on the -ground that it not merely comprehends within itself the _separation_ -of significance from external reality, which is the fundamental -_causa rationis_ of the Sublime, but also includes the _reference_ of -a concrete phenomenon to a universal import cognate with it, as we -have seen was asserted in the real type of symbolism, such a union -is notwithstanding in no way a higher type of art; it is, in truth, -despite its very clearness, a superficial way of apprehending things, -limited in its content and formally more or less prosaic, which falls -away into the consciousness of commonsense as fully remote from the -secretly fermenting depth of genuine symbolism as it is from the height -of the Sublime. - -So far as the _classification_ of our present subject-matter is -concerned we may observe, first, that in this act of comparative -differentiation, which presupposes the significance independently, -and affirms either a sensuous or imaginary form in a relation of -opposition to it, there is the aspect held constantly throughout -that the significance is here accepted as of most importance, and -the form is solely the embodiment of the same and external to it; -but along with this the further difference makes its appearance, -namely, that it is sometimes the one aspect of this opposition which -is first pre-eminently emphasized, and made the significant point of -departure, while at other times it is the other. And owing to this -fact we have either the embodiment presented us as an independently -external, immediate fact or phenomenon of Nature, which is then -related by comparison to a significance of a more general bearing, or -the significance is independently come by in another way, and only -afterwards a mode of embodying it is selected from some external -source, it matters not what. - -Relatively to the above distinctions we may classify our material under -the two first fundamental and a third and other supplementary divisions -as follows: - -A. In the _first_ it is the _concrete phenomenon_, whether the -selection be made from Nature or human events, incidents, and actions, -which constitutes both the point of departure in the process of -artistic conception, and the substance of essential weight in the -reproduction. It is no doubt exhibited solely on account of the more -general significance, which it contains and signifies, and is only so -far unfolded, that it may contribute to the object of embodying this -significance in a specific occurrence or condition cognate with it. The -comparison, however, of the general significance and the particular -case is not as yet _expressly_ set forth as _subjective_ activity, and -the entire reproduction will not merely be the embellishment of a work -which actually possesses a substantive position without it, but is set -forth as itself claiming to give the character of an independent whole. -The types of this class are the fable, the parable, the apologue, the -proverb, and the metamorphosis. - -B. In the _second_ phase the _significance_ on the contrary is that -which is first presented to consciousness, and the concrete embodiment -is that which is merely incidental or accessory to it, possessing no -independent subsistency of its own, but appearing as wholly subordinate -to the significance, so that we are now also made more immediately -aware of the element of personal caprice in the selection of this -rather than any other image. This mode of production is unable in the -great majority of cases to reach the point of a fully perfected work -of art, and is consequently forced to leave the forms it supplies as -appurtenant to other artistic images. The important types of this -class are the riddle, the allegory, the metaphor, the image, and the -simile. - -C. _Thirdly_, and in conclusion, if rather by way of supplement, we -have yet further to include within our list the didactic poem, and -purely descriptive poetry, inasmuch as in these types of poetry we -find, on the one hand, that the presentment of the general character -of the objects in the clearness under which they are made intelligible -to commonsense[80], no less than on the other that the exhibition of -their concrete appearance receives a substantially independent form, -and by doing so effects with elaborate completeness the severation of -that which only in its union and really reciprocal fusion is capable of -giving us a genuine work of art. - -This separation of the two phases essential to the process of -art-production carries with it the result that the various forms which -find their place in the entire subject-matter under discussion have -merely a claim to fall in as part of an inquiry into the modes of art -in virtue of the fact that poetry, and only poetry, is in a position -to express such a relation of self-contained independence as between -significance and form. As opposed to this it is the very problem of the -plastic arts to manifest such significant content in and through their -external form and viewed thus externally. - -A. MODES OF COMPARISON, WHICH HAVE THEIR ORIGIN UPON THE SIDE OF -EXTERNALITY - -The attempt to arrange the several kinds of poetic production which -are apportioned to this first stage of the comparative type of art -carries with it no little difficulty, and is a fruitful source -of embarrassment. They are, that is to say, hybrid species of a -subordinate rank, which in no way whatever mark out any necessary -aspect of art They stand in the domain of Aesthetic presenting features -analogous to certain animal types, and other exceptional phenomena -in natural science. In both spheres the difficulty consists in this -that in either case it is the notion of the science itself, which -is the ground of its classification and specific differences. As -differentia of the notion these are also at the same time distinctions -really adequate to the notional process, and intelligible as such; -with these latter such transitional modes are unable fully to conform -for the reason that they are merely defective types, which proceed -from a previous phase that is fundamental without being able to reach -the next one. This is no fault of the notion, nay, supposing that we -preferred to make such ancillary types the basis of our classification, -instead of pointing out their relation to the specific phases of the -_notional_ process of our subject-matter, we should have presented us -precisely that aspect of them which was inadequate to this process -as the irreproachable mode of their development. A true principle of -classification, on the contrary, is compelled to proceed from the true -notion, and such _hybrid_ types as those now discussed can only be -suitably placed where the genuine and independently stable ones show a -tendency to dissolve and pass over into others. - -Apart from such considerations, however, the artistic types referred to -belong to the _forecourt_ of artistic symbolism, inasmuch as they are -generally incomplete, and to that extent _merely_ a search after art in -its truth. Such a movement no doubt presents the essential ingredients -of a genuine mode of configuration, but it lays hold of them in their -aspect of finitude, separation, and purely relative propinquity; -it fails consequently to rank on the same level. When we discuss, -therefore, the fable, apologue, and the rest we must treat these forms -not as though they belonged to _poetry_ in the specific sense, as it -differs among other things from music no less than the plastic arts, -but only with the view of pointing out the relation in which they stand -to the _generic_ types of art. It is only thus their specific character -can be elucidated. To such an object the notion of the genuine types of -the art of poetry, whether epic, lyric, or dramatic, will not assist us. - -We propose now to differentiate these forms in the following order; -we shall begin with the _fable_, proceed after that to discuss the -_parable_, _apologue_, and _proverb_, and conclude our inquiry with the -_metamorphosis._ - - - -1. THE FABLE - -Hitherto we have throughout merely dwelt upon the formal aspect of the -relation of an expressed significance to its embodiment; we have now -furthermore to elucidate the content, which declares its suitability -for such a mode. - -In our previous consideration of the various aspects of the _Sublime_ -we saw that at the point where we have now arrived, it is no longer a -matter of any importance to envisualize the Absolute and One in its -indivisible Power by means of the nothingness and impotency of the -created thing to rise up to that infinite transcendency. We are now -on the plane of the finite consciousness, and have only to concern -ourselves with a finite content. If we direct our attention conversely -to the genuine symbolical type, to which the comparative is under -a certain aspect equally related, we find that here that _inward_ -aspect, which stands in opposition to the form up to this point -always immediately presented, the natural shape, that is to say, is -the spiritual, a truth that even in Egyptian symbolism received ample -illustration. To the extent, however, that everything natural is left -standing, and preconceived in its position of isolated _solidarity_, -the spiritual is also something both _finite_ and _defined_, that is -to say man and his finite aims and the natural maintains a certain, -albeit theoretical[81], relationship to these objects, a significant -suggestion and revelation of the same to the use and weal of mankind. -The phenomena of Nature, storms, flight of birds, the constitution -of the intestines of animals and so forth, in the significance they -possess for human interests, are now accepted in a totally different -sense to that they figured in the conceptions of Parsees, Hindoos, or -Egyptians, for whom the Divine is still linked to the Natural under -the mode that man, as an integral part of Nature, moves to and fro in -a world full of gods, and his personal action consists in the display -through his activities of this very identity of Life, whereby this -doing of his, in so far as it is compatible with the natural existence -of the Divine, appears itself as a revelation and bringing forth of -the Divine in mankind. When, however, man is withdrawn into himself, -and intuitively seeks for his freedom within the closed doors of his -own substance[82], he becomes intrinsically the object of his own -personality; he acts, transacts his affairs, and works as he himself -wills; he possesses a personal life of his own, and feels the essential -character of his aims as part of himself, to which the natural is only -related as something outside him. Consequently Nature becomes insulated -around him, serves him under such an aspect that in his attitude to the -Divine he no longer secures an envisagement of the Absolute in her, but -simply regards her as a means, through which the gods enable him to -discover such a knowledge of themselves as may contribute most to his -advantage, unveiling their will to the human spirit through the medium -of Nature and suffering the purpose thereof to declare itself through -mankind. An identity of the Absolute and Nature is here presupposed, an -identity in which _human aims_ are pre-eminently emphasized. A type of -symbolism such as this, however, is not within the province of art, but -that of religion. That is to say, the _vates_ or prophet subordinates -every significant relation of natural events, pre-eminently to the -service of practical ends, whether it be in the interest of the -particular designs of individuals, or in that of the common action of -an entire people. Poetry, on the contrary, is bound to recognize and -express even the practical situations and relations in a more universal -form adapted to contemplation. - -What we have, however, to deal with now is a natural phenomenon, an -occurrence, which, in its passage, exhibits a particular relation, -which maybe accepted as symbol for a general significance in the -circle of human deeds and dealings, in other words for an ethical -maxim, a saw, for a significance, therefore, whose content unfolds -a reflection over the nature of the course which either is taken or -ought to be taken in human matters, that is, facts which are related to -volition. Here it is no longer the Divine will, which is self-revealed -in its essential nature to mankind through natural events, and their -religious import. We have nothing more than a quite ordinary course of -everyday occurrences, from the isolated reproduction of which we are -able to abstract in a way commonly intelligible an ethical _dictum_, -a warning, ensample, or rule of prudence, by whatever name we choose -to call it, which is set before us in a form that appeals to our -imagination for the sake of the reflection it carries with it. And this -is just the way in which we ought to regard the fables of Aesop. - -(_a_) In other words, the fables of Aesop in their original form are -just such a mode of conceiving a natural relation or event between -single natural objects generally, mainly between animals, whose -intercourse with one another is based on the same practical necessities -of life that are the motive force in that of humanity. This relation or -occurrence, as viewed in its more general characters, is consequently -of a kind that may happen in the sphere of human life, and as such -carries with it a significance for man. - -As thus explained the genuine fable of Aesop is therefore the -reproduction of a condition of animate or inanimate life, of some -occurrence in the animal world for example, which is not by any -means composed at haphazard, but is put together in conformity with -natural fact and genuine observation, and so reproduced in the form of -narrative that, in its relation to human existence, and particularly -the practical aspect of the same, a general maxim may be deduced from -it. The requirement of _primary_ importance that it implies, therefore, -is that the particular case in question, which is to supply the -so-called moral, must not be purely _imaginary_, that is to say, first -and foremost the substance of the composition must not present facts -which run _counter_ to the mode of their appearance in real life. The -narrative may be further and yet more clearly characterized in this -that it does not record the particular case itself in its universality, -but rather the mode under which this, taken in its concrete singularity -and as a real fact, is in such external reality the type for all action -based upon analogous circumstances. - -This original form of the fable leaves upon it, and this is the -_third_ point to which we direct attention, the impress of most -_naïveté_, because in it the didactic aim and the deduction of general -significances of utilitarian colour do not appear to be that which was -the original intention of the narrator, but rather something which -turned up afterwards. For this reason the most attractive among -the so-called fables of Aesop will be those which correspond most -emphatically with this naïve tone and narrate actions, if such an -expression may here be used, or at least relations and events, which -in part are founded upon animal instinct, partly are the expression of -some other natural relation and partly are generally put together for -their own sake rather than exclusively composed as the fancy of the -moment happened to dictate. For this reason it is further sufficiently -obvious that the motto _fabula docet_, which has attached itself to -these fables as we now have them presented us, either takes the true -spirit out of them, or frequently is something like a fist in our -eyes[83], so that quite as often as not we are inclined to deduce the -intended maxim's opposite, or one or two as good if not better. - -In further elucidation of this conception of these Greek fables we -propose now to offer a few illustrations. The oak and the reed stand -in the teeth of the storm-wind. The slender reed merely bows before -it, the stubborn oak snaps. This is a frequent enough occurrence in -a great storm. In its ethical suggestion what we have here is some -man of high position and inflexible temper as opposed to one of more -modest station who, through his natural pliancy, is able in misfortune -to keep himself secure on such ordinary levels, while the great man -goes to ground through his pride and obstinacy. An analogous case is -the fable of the swallows which we find in the Phaedrus. The swallows -and other birds with them see a rustic sowing the flax seed, from the -growth of which the bird-snare is to be made. The provident swallows -fly away, the other birds think nothing of the morrow; they abide -at home and are caught. A real phenomenon of Nature is also at the -bottom of this fable. It is a notorious fact that in autumn swallows -are off to southerly climes, and consequently are absent when birds -are snared. The same thing may be said of the fable about the bat, -which is despised by day and night, because it belongs to neither the -one nor the other. A more general human significance is attributed to -real prosaic incidents of this class, much as pious people are only -too ready nowadays to interpret everything that occurs in a sense -that is edifying or useful. It is, however, not essential to such a -purpose that in every case the true fact of Nature should appear at -once as obvious. In the fable, for instance, of the fox and the raven -we are unable at first blush to recognize the natural fact, although -it is not wholly absent. It is, in truth, a genuine characteristic -both of ravens and crows that they set about cawing when they happen -to catch sight of strange objects, whatever they may be, whether man -or beast, in sudden motion. Natural relations of a similar kind lie -at the root of the fable of the thorn-bush, which plucks the wool off -the passer-by, or wounds the fox that seeks refuge there, or that -of the countryman who warms a snake in his bosom. Others set forth -occurrences which may naturally form part of animal experience; take, -for instance, the first example of the fables of Aesop where the eagle -devours the cubs of the fox and carries off a hot coal attached to the -sacrificial flesh which sets his nest on fire. And, in conclusion, we -find that others contain traits of old myths, such as the fable of -the dung-beetle, eagle, and Jupiter, where the circumstance borrowed -from natural history--we will pass it by for what it is worth--appears -to be referable to the different seasons of the year when the eagle -and dung-beetle respectively lay their eggs; at the same time we may -observe a clear intimation here of the traditional importance of the -scarab, which, however, even in our present example, is already treated -with an inclination toward comedy, an inclination still more pronounced -in Aristophanes. As an excuse for not entering more fully here into the -question how many of these fables can actually be traced to Aesop we -mention the already well-established fact that only of quite a small -minority--the last-cited one of dung-beetle and the eagle is among -them--can it be shown that they date from Aesop's time, or that in -general terms there is any flavour of antiquity about them to support -the view that Aesop is in fact their author. - -Of Aesop himself we are informed that he was a deformed and humpbacked -slave; and for his place of residence we are transported into Phrygia, -the very land, that is, which marks the passage from the immediately -symbolical and the existence still fettered on Nature, to a land in -which man begins to take real hold of the spiritual and himself as -the source of the same. In our present connection, no doubt, he does -not behold the animal and natural world in the way the Hindoos and -Egyptians beheld it, that is, as something of itself, superior and -Divine. He regards it with prosaic vision as something whose relations -are only of service in the presentment of a picture of human act and -avoidance. His conceits are further merely the reflections of wit, -without real energy of soul or depth of insight and a fundamental grasp -of reality, without poetry and philosophy, in fact. His opinions and -maxims are, in consequence, fairly rich in sensuous image and traits of -cleverness, but we never get beyond the digging away into mere trifles, -which, instead of creating free shapes from the unfettered life of -spirit, is contented to discover some additional aspect that is new -in material already close at hand, such as the specific instincts and -habits of animals or other daily occurrences of little moment; and this -is so because that which he would teach he is still afraid to express -freely, and is only able to make it intelligible in a kind of riddle -which is at the same time always being solved. Prose has its origin -in the slave, and in the same way prose clings to the entire type of -conception with which we are now concerned. - -Despite this fact, however, the experience of almost all nations and -times has in one form or another run through these old tales; and -however much any particular people whose literature is generally well -versed in fable may pride itself as possessing more than one fabulist -of distinction, we shall find that their poetry is for the most part -merely a reflection of these primary sallies of invention, merely -translated into the vernacular of the age. All that has since been -added to the general heritage of such conceits falls far behind the -original legacy in real merit. - -(_b_) There are, however, among these fables of Greek descent a -number which betray the greatest poverty of invention and execution, -being mere pegs on which to hang the instructive moral, so that the -contents, whether they refer to gods or animals, have merely a formal -significance. Yet even these are far enough removed from the modern -tendency of doing violence to the animal world as we find it in -Nature. An example of this tendency is that fable of Pfeffel about -a marmot which collected provisions in autumn, an act of foresight -which another marmot neglected, and so was brought to the condition -of beggary and starvation. Or there is that other of the fox, the -bloodhound, and the lynx, of whom it is narrated that they presented -themselves before Jupiter, together with the talents which exclusively -belonged to them of cunning, keen scent, and clear sight, and requested -that these gifts should be equally divided between them; the fable goes -on that they obtained such consent under these rather surprising terms: -"The fox gets a blow on the forehead, the bloodhound is good for no -more hunting, the Argus Lynx receives a cataract." That a marmot should -cease to make provision for its wants, or that the three animals above -mentioned should ever incidentally meet with, or be naturally capable -of receiving, a proportionate division of their respective gifts is -contrary to all reason and consequently meaningless. A better fable -than those above cited is that of the ant and the grasshopper, or that -other of the deer with the beautiful horns and the slender legs. - -Conformably to the tenor of fables of this kind we have grown, as -a rule, accustomed to accept the moral of the fable as that which -is of first importance, and to regard the narrative as _merely_ an -external form, and consequently an event entirely _composed_ with a -view to expound that moral. Embodiments of this sort, however, more -particularly when the occurrence described is wholly at variance with -the natural character of specific animals, are in the highest degree -insipid, attempts at invention which mean less than nothing. The real -ingenuity of a fable consists exclusively in this that it is able to -impart to that which already exists in determinate form a further and -more universal significance than that which is immediately presented. - -The question has further been raised, in reference to the general -assumption that the essence of a fable consists in setting before us -the actions and speech of animals rather than those of mankind, as to -what it is precisely which attracts us in this allusion. We cannot -suppose, however, that there is after all much that is attractive in -such a furbishing up of our humanity in animal form, even though it -should exceed or at least differ from that of a comedy of apes and -dogs, where, apart from the sight of the general cleverness of the -dressing up, the entire interest consists rather in the deliberate -contrast between animal nature as it really is and appears, and that -represented as taking part in human affairs. On grounds of this sort -Breitinger finds the attraction to consist entirely in the element -of the _marvellous._ In the original type of the fable, however, the -appearance of animals endowed with speech is _not_ put before us as -anything uncommon or surprising. And for this very reason Lessing is -of the opinion that the introduction of animals is really of great use -in helping us to understand and _assisting_ the poet to _abridge_ his -exposition; in other words we are well acquainted with the qualities -of animals, the cuteness of the fox, the magnanimity of the lion, the -voracity and violence of the wolf, and are consequently able to set -before our minds a concrete image in place of such abstract qualities. -An advantage of this kind, however, in no essential degree mitigates -the triviality of the relation when it has become one purely of form, -and generally it is even a disadvantage to place animals thus before -us instead of men, for the reason that the animal form remains a mask, -which, so far as intelligibility is concerned, _veils_ fully as much as -it _declares_ the significance. - -The most important fable of this kind should be in that case the -old history of Reinecke, the fox, which is notwithstanding strictly -speaking no fable at all. - -(_c_) In other words we may in conclusion add a _third_ type of the -fable, in which we find that there is already a tendency to pass beyond -the real boundaries of the type. The ingenuity of a fable consists, as -already pointed out, in the discovery of particular cases among the -variety of natural phenomena, which we are able to use as evidential -support of general reflections upon human action and behaviour, without -essentially displacing the animal and natural world from its own native -mode of existence. For the rest this general application or adaptation -of the particular case to the so-called moral is an exercise of -personal caprice, or shall we say native wit, and is therefore to all -intents and purposes an affair of pleasantry. It is this aspect which -receives the main emphasis in the type of fable now before us. The -fable is in fact accepted as a witty jest. Goethe has written many a -delightful and ingenious poem in this vein. The following lines occur -in one of them, which is entitled "The Barking Dog": - -/$ - Down every road afield we ride - On business bent or pleasure; - And ever in our wake full-cry - A hound's bark beats the measure. - Loosed from our horse's stable he - _Will_ always gallop beside us: - And this is what his clamour proves! - We ride, are with the riders. -$/ - -It is equally necessary here, as in the case of Aesop's fables, that -objects which are borrowed from Nature should receive their native -aspect, and only bring before us in their action and habits human -circumstances, passions, and traits, which have a close affinity to -those of the animal world. The story of Reinecke is one of this kind, -and is really more a fairy-tale than a fable in the strict sense. -We find in the content of this the reflection of an age of disorder -and lawlessness, of evil generally, weakness, baseness, violence, -and shamelessness, of unbelief in religion, that merely retains the -appearance of a mastery, or indeed an established position in the -world-drama; and the result is that craft, cunning, and selfishness -have it all their own way. It is, in fact, the condition of the -Middle Ages, more especially as developed in Germany. The powerful -vassals pay, it is true, some appearance of respect to the king; but -practically every man does as he pleases--robs, murders, oppresses -the weak, betrays the king, finds a way somehow to the favours of the -queen, so that if the community just holds together that is about -all. Such is the human content, which by this fable is preserved, -not in a mere abstract proposition but in an entire _complexus_ of -conditions and characters, and by reason of its baseness fits in with -the animal nature exactly, under the forms of which it is unfolded. -For this reason we find nothing embarrassing in the fact that it is -without any reserves transferred to the animal realm; and for the same -reason the particular form it takes does not so much appear as an -exceptional case cognate with it; rather we are inclined to feel the -singularity of it make way for a certain breadth of universality, a -vision emphasizing the general truth: "Such is the way things happen -in the world." The comical side consists in the forms under which the -whole is put together, drollery and jest being freely mingled with the -bitter earnestness of the situation; the general effect of which is -that we not only have human meanness admirably depicted through that -of animals, but we are further made a present of the most entertaining -traits, and most characteristic anecdotes wholly peculiar to animal -life, so that, despite all tartness to the palate, our final view -is that of a comedy whose main intention is neither bad nor purely -capricious, but one that has genuine earnestness to support it. - - -2. PARABLE, PROVERB, APOLOGUE - -(_a_) _The Parable_ - -_Parable_ has this general affinity with _fable_, that it accepts -events from the circle of common life, but also makes them the -depositors of a higher and more universal significance, expressly with -a view that the same shall become intelligible and objective by means -of that daily occurrence in its ordinary guise. A difference, however, -at once asserts itself between the parable and fable, and it is this, -that the former selects such occurrences in _human_ action and habits, -as we have them every day before our eyes, rather than in Nature and -the animal world; it then expands the particular case selected, which -appears trite enough at first as such a particular, to the range of -wider interest, by suggesting through it a higher kind of significance. - -For this reason the range and the importance of the significances in -wealth of _content_ can materially be increased and deepened[84], -while, if we take the point of view of form, it is clear that the -subjective process of intentional comparison and setting out of a -generally instructive reflection already marks the acceptance and -appearance of a more advanced type. - -As a parable, still united to a wholly practical end, we may view -the means of persuasion used by Cyrus to induce the Persians to -rebel (Herod., I, cap. 126). His letter to the Persians advised them -to betake themselves to a certain spot provided with sickles. When -there he set them all on the first day to clear with hard labour a -certain field overgrown with thistles. On the following day, however, -after they had rested and bathed, he conducted them to a meadow -and supplied them with ample cheer in the shape of food and wine. -Finally, at the close of the feast, he asked of them which of the two -days had proved the most enjoyable. All voted naturally for to-day -rather than yesterday; the former had brought them only good things, -while the latter had been a day of weariness and toil. On this Cyrus -exclaimed: "Follow me, and many will be the good days such as the -present has brought you. Refuse to follow me, and countless labours -are in store quite a match for those of yesterday." Of a type akin -to the above, though of profoundest interest and the widest range -considered relatively to their significance, are the parables we meet -with in the Gospels. Take, for example, that of the sower, a narrative -which as such possesses the most unimportant subject-matter, and -whose significance centres throughout in the comparison it supplies -to the preaching of the kingdom of heaven. The significance in these -parables is wholly a religious gospel, to which the human occurrences, -wherein such is imaginatively presented, stand in a relation similar -to that between the animal and human world in the fables of Aesop, -where the former elicits the meaning of the latter. Of a like breadth -of content is the famous story of Boccaccio, which Lessing converted -in his "Natham" into the parable of the three rings. The substance of -the narrative is also in this case taken by itself nothing remarkable; -the extraordinarily wide, reach of its content arises wholly from the -way the differences between and the relative validity of the three -religions, namely, the Jewish, the Mohammedan, and the Christian, are -suggested by it. The same thing may be said of the latest novelties in -this type of art, the parables of Goethe for example. Take that of the -"cat-pasty." In this a famous _chef_, in order to prove himself hunter -no less than cook, went out hunting, but shot a tom-cat instead of -a hare, which he then served up to the company sauced with his most -consummate art. This is no doubt a reference to the Light theory of -Newton. We have here under the guise of the hare-pie which the cook -tried in vain to elaborate out of a cat a reflection of that abortive -type of physical science which the mathematician will assume to be -something better than it is. These parables of Goethe frequently have -a strong touch of drollery about them, an aspect which they share with -his fables by the help of which he was wont to shed himself of life's -disappointments. - -(_b_) _The Proverb_ - -The _proverb_ forms as it were the middle point of this sphere. In the -form of their execution, that is to say, proverbs lean at one time in -the direction of the fable, at another to that of the apologue. They -give us a particular case selected for the most part from the daily -walk of mankind, which, however, is to be interpreted universally. Take -the example, "One hand washes the other," or those others, "Every one -wheels before his own door," "Who digs a grave for another, falls into -it himself," "Bake a pudding for me and I will staunch your thirst," -and others like them. To wise saws of this type belong the many -apophthegems that Goethe has contributed to modern literature, often -of exquisite grace and profound to a degree. These are not modes of -comparison of the type that the general significance and the concrete -phenomenon are opposed to one another in separation, but the former is -immediately expressed with the latter. - -(_c_) _The Apologue_ - -The _apologue_ may be regarded as a parable, which not only serves -in the way of _comparison_ to render visible a general significance, -but rather in this its very form reproduces and expresses the general -moral, the same being actually included in the particular case, -which is, however, related as only a single example. Conformably to -this definition we may call Goethe's "Der Gott und die Bajadere" an -apologue. Here we find the Christian tale of the repentant Magdalene -reclothed in accordance with Hindoo ideas. The Bajadere[85] exemplifies -the same humility, a like strength of love and faith; God puts her to -the proof, an ordeal she completely sustains, and her exaltation and -reconciliation follows. In the apologue also narrative is so extended -that the outcome of it furnishes the moral itself, bare of any parallel -to support it, as may be illustrated from "The Treasure-Finder": - -/$ - Work by day and guests at night, - Weeks of moil, feasts of delight, - Such the Future's spell for thee. -$/ - - -3. THE METAMORPHOSIS[86] - -The _third_ mode we have to discuss in its contrast to the fable, -parable, proverb, and apologue, is the _metamorphosis._ This is no -doubt of a kind which is both symbolical and mythological; it sets -forth, however, expressly furthermore the natural in its opposition -to the spiritual. That is to say, it confers on an object immediately -present to sense such as a rock, animal, flower, or spring the -peculiar significance of being a _delapsus_ and a _punishment_ of -spiritual existences. Such are the examples of Philomela, the Pieredes, -Narcissus, and Arethusa, all of whom, through some false step, passion, -transgression or the like, became subject to irreparable guilt or pain, -and for this reason were deprived of the freedom of spiritual life, -and united to the substance of physical nature. From one point of view -Nature is not regarded merely under its external and prosaic aspect, -simply, that is, as mountain, river-source, tree and so forth, but it -further receives a content which is bound up with some action or event -of spiritual life. The rock is not simply stone, but Niobe herself, who -weeps for her children. From the other point of view this human action -implies guilt of some kind, and this metamorphosis into the physical -phenomenon is accepted as a degradation of Spirit. - -It is therefore necessary to distinguish these metamorphoses of human -individuals or gods very sharply from the genuine type of _unconscious -symbolism._ To return to Egypt, for example, the Divine is here in -part immediately envisaged in the mysterious and secluded intension -of animal life, partly, too, the real symbol is here a natural form -which is immediately associated with a wider significance cognate to -it, despite the fact that this form is unable to supply the determinate -existence fully commensurate with it; and this is so for the reason -that neither in respect to its form or its content has unconscious -symbolism arrived at the free outlook of Spirit. Metamorphosis, on -the contrary, emphasizes the essential distinction between Nature and -Spirit, and by doing so marks the _passage_ from that which is both -symbolical and mythological to that which is in the _strict sense_ -mythological, under, that is to say, a conception of the latter, which, -albeit that it proceeds in its myths from a concrete fact of Nature -such as sun, sea, rivers, trees, earth, and the like, nevertheless, -further and expressly sets this purely natural aspect on one side and -apart, divesting such natural phenomena of their inner content and -individualizing the same as a spiritual Power in the adequate artistic -form of gods clothed in the lineaments of humanity, whether we regard -them as external shape or spiritual activity. In this sense Homer and -Hesiod have given to the Greeks their mythology, a mythology which -by no means merely consists in the revelation of the significance of -such gods, by no means is merely an exposition of moral, physical, -theological, or speculative doctrine, but one that is a mythology in -the strict sense, that is the origin of a spiritual religion under the -genuine guise of our humanity. - -In the Metamorphoses of Ovid the most heterogeneous material is brought -together quite apart from the entirely modern spirit in which myth is -treated. Beside the mere aspect of metamorphosis, which could here in -general terms only be conceived as a kind of mythical representation, -we have the specific character[87] of this type raised in an -exceptional way in these narrations, in which embodiments of this sort, -which are commonly accepted as symbolical, or are already received in -their entirely mythical character, appear to have been converted into -metamorphoses, and that which is elsewhere united is so presented as to -assert an opposition between its significance and form, and the passage -of the one into the other. In this way, for instance, the Phrygian -or Egyptian symbol, the wolf, is so separated from its intrinsic -significance, that the same is converted into a previous existence if -not actually into the kingship of the Sun, and the existence of the -wolf is conceived as resulting from an act of that human existence. In -the same way in the song of the Pierides the Egyptian gods, the ram, -the cat, and so forth are imaged as such animal forms, in which the -mythical gods of Greece, Jupiter, Venus, and the rest have concealed -themselves from sheer fright. The Pierides themselves, however, by -way of punishment, in that they dared to rival the Muses with their -singing, are changed into woodpeckers. - -Looked at from another side it is equally necessary, with a view to -securing the more accurate definition, which the content wherein the -significance consists essentially carries, that we distinguish the -metamorphosis from the fable. That is to say in the fable the binding -together of the moral with the natural fact is an association that is -_harmless_; for in this the thing of Nature, regarded under the mode -in which it differs in its natural aspect from Spirit, does not affect -the significance, although there are certainly single examples of the -fables of Aesop, which, with but slight alteration, would be instances -of metamorphosis. As such may be cited the forty-second fable of the -bat, the thorn-bush, and the diver, whose instincts are explained as -due to the ill-luck of former experiences. - -And here we must end our passage through this the first circle of the -comparative type of art. It started from that which was immediately -present to sense, that is, the concrete phenomenon. We proceed now from -the point we have arrived at to examine a further kind of significance -which the type unfolds. - - - -B. COMPARISONS, WHICH IN THEIR IMAGINATIVE PRESENTMENT HAVE THEIR -ORIGIN IN THE SIGNIFICANCE. - -Forasmuch as the severation of significance from embodiment is the -hypostasized form for consciousness, within which the relation of both -originates independently, it is both possible and inevitable that in -the articulation of the self-subsistency of one side no less than -the other a start should be made not only from external existence, -but conversely and as emphatically from that which is _immediately -present_ to the conscious subject, in other words general conceptions, -reflections, emotions, and principles of thought. For this inward -aspect is equally with the images of external objects a subject-matter -present to consciousness and in its independence of that which is -external proceeds on its way from its own resources. In the case, -then, where we find the significance is the point of departure, the -expression, that is, the reality, appears as the _modus formulandi_, -which is abstracted from the concrete world in order to give a visible -and sensuously defined shape to the significance regarded as abstract -content. - -Owing, however, to the reciprocally indifferent relation under which -both sides confront each other, this association which binds the two -sides together is, as we have already seen, no essentially explicit and -necessary union; consequently the relation, such as it is, that is no -actual reflection of objective fact, is rather a _product_ of _active -mind_, which no longer even disguises this its fundamental character, -but rather deliberately exposes it in the form of its representation. -The very embodiment possesses this binding together of form and -content, soul and body, under the guise of concrete _animation_[88], -as essentially and explicitly the substantial union of both sides -in the soul as in the body, in the content as in the form. In the -case before us, however, what is presupposed by consciousness is the -dislocation of the two sides, and consequently their association is the -vivification of the significance simply for consciousness by means of -a shape external to it, and an indication of a real existence, equally -subjective in its character through the relation of the same to the -general conceptions, emotions, and thoughts common to humanity. For -this reason what is mainly emphasized in these forms of comparative art -is the subjective art of _the poet_ in his creative capacity, and in -complete works of art we have mainly in our attitude to this particular -aspect of them to separate that which strictly is appurtenant to their -subject-matter and its necessary embodiment from that which is attached -to them by the poet as mere ornament and embellishment. Such accessory -detail, which we cannot fail to distinguish, that is, consisting -mainly of images, similes, allegories, and metaphor, is precisely -that part of his work in virtue of which he earns his title to fame -with most people, a tendency which is all the more common because it -indirectly bears witness to the insight and subtlety which enables such -critics to discover our poet and draw attention to that aspect of his -invention which is so entirely his own. But for all that, as we have -already observed, in genuine works of art such forms as those we are -discussing can only be regarded as accessory, although we doubtless do -find in previous works on _Poetics_ such incidental features treated as -precisely those which go to make the poet. - -Furthermore however, though unquestionably in the first instance -the two sides which have to be associated stand in a relation of -indifference to one another, yet in order to justify the subjective -relation and comparison, the embodiments must also in the character of -its content itself include the same relations and qualities under a -cognate mode to that which the significance intrinsically possesses; -the grasp of this similarity is, in fact, the one sure ground upon -which the setting forth of the significance in union with this specific -form rather than any other, and the envisagement of such import by -its means is based. Lastly, inasmuch as we begin here, not from the -concrete phenomenon, by the abstraction of a general characteristic -from that, but conversely from this universal itself, which the -intention is to have reflected in an image, the significance secures -the position which makes it stand out actually as the real object, and -as such is predominant over the sensuous picture which is the _modus_ -of its envisagement. - -The series in which we propose now to examine the particular types we -have mentioned as belonging to this phase of comparative art may be -indicated as follows: - -_First_ in order, as most cognate to the previous stage, the _riddle_ -will enlist our attention. - -_Secondly_, we have to examine the _allegory_, in which as the main -feature we shall find the abstract significance assert a mastery over -the external form. - -_Thirdly_, we have the class of the comparison in its strict sense; -_metaphor, image_, and _simile._ - - -1. THE RIDDLE - -The true symbol is essentially enigmatical in so far as the -externality, by means of which a general significance is made apparent, -still differs from the import it is intended to express: in other words -it thereby raises the doubt as to what is the exact signification -applicable to the form. The riddle, however, appertains to conscious -symbolism, and an obvious distinction between it and the genuine -symbol is to be found in the fact that in the former case the meaning -is clearly and fully _recognized_ by the propounder of it, and the -form which veils that which is to be interpreted by it is therefore -_intentionally_ selected for this very purpose. The genuine symbol is -both before and after the act of selection an unsolved problem, the -riddle, on the contrary, is essentially a problem that is solved. It is -therefore with very good reason that Sancho Panza exclaims: "I should -much prefer to hear the solution first and the riddle afterwards." - -(_a_) _First_, then, in the invention of the riddle, the point from -which the process starts, is the apprehended meaning, the signification -of it. - -(_b_) The _second_ step consists in the intentional selection of -traits of character and other qualities from the common experience of -the external world, which--such is always the aspect of Nature and -external objects of every kind--are placed relatively to one another -in piecemeal fashion, and in thus setting them forth in disparate -contiguity, which makes their singularity the more striking. And -inasmuch as they are so placed they are without the enfolding unity -of mind, and their array and association intentionally distract has so -far no intrinsic significance whatever. And yet for all that, and this -is the other aspect of the riddle, they do expressly point to a unity -in relation to which even traits to all appearance most heterogeneous -contain, notwithstanding, both a real sense and significance. - -(_c_) This unity, which may be styled the subject of these distract -predicates, is just the simple preconception, the word that solves -our riddle, to discover or divine which from the apparently confused -medley of the mode under which it is propounded is the riddle's -problem. Thus interpreted we may call the riddle the facetiousness of -symbolism, aware that it is such which puts to the proof acuteness -of insight and aptness at putting things together, and finally, by -stimulating the zest of solution, breaks into and destroys the very -mode of presentation it has itself set up. In the main we shall find -this, form, therefore, most employed in human speech, though we -may find exceptional examples of it also in the plastic arts[89], -architecture, horticulture, and painting. With regard to its historical -appearance the East is first and foremost responsible, and we may date -its advent in that intermediate and transitional period out of the -more obtuse type of symbolism into one of more intelligent knowledge -and comprehension. Entire peoples and historical epochs have taken -delight in the solution of such problems. It also plays an important -part in the Middle Ages among the Arabs and the Scandinavians, and as a -particular example it is much in evidence in the minstrel tourneys on -the Wartburg. In modern times it is mainly under the more modest guise -of recreation and purely social pleasantry that we cross it. - -In the riddle we have opened a practically limitless field for -witty and striking conceits, which in their reference to any given -circumstance, occurrence, or object take the form of a play upon words -or an epigrammatical sentence. On the one hand we have presented -an object trite to a degree, on the other some conceit of the mind -which emphasizes unexpectedly with conspicuous force some aspect -or relation, which we failed to perceive in that object on first -confronting it, and which now attaches to it the light of a new -significance. - - -2. THE ALLEGORY - -The counterpart to the riddle in this sphere of comparative art, where -the point of departure is from the generality of the significance, -is the _allegory._ From a certain point of view this form, no less -than the former, endeavours to make more visible to us the definite -qualities of a general conception through qualities in materially -concrete objects which are cognate therewith; but in contrast to that -form this is not done in the interest of a partial concealment and -a mysterious problem; rather it is now quite the other way with the -express object of absolute revealment; to an extent, in fact, that all -which is external, and is as such utilized by it, must become through -and through transpicuous with the significance which has to make its -appearance therein. - -(_a_) It is therefore in the first place concerned to personify -abstract conditions of a general character or similar qualities -both from the human and the natural world, such as religion, love, -justice, strife, fame, war, peace, the seasons, death, and the like, -and conceive them under the mode of _personality._ This subjective -aspect, however, is neither in respect to its content nor its external -form in itself either a real subject or individual, but persists as -the abstraction of a general conception, whose content is merely -the _barren_ form of subjectivity which may be called as truly a -grammatical subject[90]. In other words an allegorical being, despite -every attempt to clothe it in the lineaments of humanity, entirely -falls short of concrete individuality, whether it be a Greek god, a -saint, or any other genuine example. It is, in fact, so forced to -pare away[91] from the substance of subjectivity, in order to make it -conform with the abstract character of its significance, that all -the true definition of individuality disappears. It is therefore only -a just criticism of allegory to say that it is frosty and cold, and, -having regard to the abstract quality of its significances, even in the -point of invention, that it is rather the result of the matter-of-fact -understanding than that of the complete vision and emotional depth -of genuine imagination. Poets, such as Virgil, for example, are -particularly ready to give us examples of allegorical individualization -simply because they are unable to create gods of the Homeric type of -personality. - -(_b_) _Secondly_, however, the significant character of allegorical -material is at once _defined_ in its abstraction, and only by means of -such definition is it intelligible; the expression of such particular -aspects, for the reason that it is not immediately unfolded in that -which is in the first instance a purely _generalized_ conception of -personality, is consequently forced to appear alongside of the subject, -simply as the predicates which elucidate the same. This separation of -subject from predicate, generality from particularity, is the second -feature of the frostlike appearance of the allegory. The envisagement -of the determinate and specific qualities is borrowed from the modes of -expression, activity, and resultant effects which make their appearance -in virtue of the significance, when that secures its realized form -in concrete existence, or from the various means which subserve it -in its true realization. For example, war is delineated through -weapons, cannons, drums, and standards, etc.; the yearly seasons, by -an enumeration of the flowers and fruits, which pre-eminently spring -up under the favouring influence of the particular seasons. Objects -of this kind may further receive purely symbolical relations, as, for -instance, Justice may be brought home to our minds by means of the -scales and fillet, Death by that of the hour-glass and scythe. For the -reason, however, that the significance in allegory is the dominant -factor, and the more specialized presentment is subordinate to it -under an equally abstract form, for it is, after all, itself merely -an abstraction, the embodiment of such definable characteristics only -secures the validity of an _attribute_ pure and simple. - -(_c_) In this way the allegory is under both these aspects without -vital warmth. Its general personification is empty, the definite mode -of its externalization is only a sign, which taken independently has -no longer any meaning, and the _centrum_, which is thus constrained to -gather up the variety of the attributes into a focus does not possess -the potency of a truly subjective unity which is itself self-embodied -in its real and determinate existence inter-related throughout, but is -rather a purely abstract form, for which the substantial filling-up -with particular traits, which, as we have seen, never succeed in rising -above the rank of the formal attribute, remains as something external. -Consequently we may say that in so far as the allegory sets up any -claim to real self-consistency, in which it personifies its abstraction -and their delineation, it is not to be taken seriously. In other -words, that which is both implicitly and explicitly self-substantive -is unable really to conform with an allegorical being. The _Dikê_ -of the ancients, for instance, is not on all fours with allegorical -individualization. She is universal Necessity personified, eternal -Justice, the universally potent subject, the absolute substantivity of -the relations which co-ordinate Nature and spiritual Life, that is, she -is the absolute Self-subsistent itself, in the train of whom all other -individuals are bound, whether gods or men. Herr Frederick von Schlegel -has, it is true--we have already referred to the fact--ventured the -opinion that every work of art must of necessity be an allegory. Such -an expression of opinion is only true if limited to the sense that -every work of art must contain a general idea and a significance which -is itself essentially true. What we have above, on the contrary, -included under the term allegory is a mode of presentation which only -conforms to the notion of art incompletely, being itself no less -in content than in form subordinate to it. Every human event and -development, every relation in which life is concerned, possesses no -doubt intrinsically an aspect of universality, which may be emphasized -as such, but abstractions of this kind are already to be found in the -general contents of consciousness, and merely to assert them in their -prosaic aspect of generality and external delineation, which is the -point where the allegory halts, is still to fall short of the true -sphere of art. - -Winckelmann has also written an immature work on allegory, in which he -has ranged together a large number of examples, but failed for the -most part to distinguish those which exemplify the symbol and allegory -respectively. - -Among the particular arts within which we find examples of the -allegory, poetry is really acting contrary to its laws when it takes -refuge in such a mode of presentment; sculpture on the contrary is in -most directions barely complete without it, more especially modern -sculputure, which freely admits of that which is native to portraiture, -and so must avail itself of allegorical figures in order to delineate -more closely the relative aspects under which the individual -presentment is posed. On Blucher's monument, for example, which has -been raised to him here in Berlin, we find both the genius of Fame and -Victory, although, having regard to the general treatment of the war of -liberation, this allegorical aspect is once more set aside by means of -a series of particular scenes such as the departure of the army, its -march, and victorious return. Generally speaking, however, where the -subject of sculpture is portraiture the sculptor will avail himself -gladly of allegorical representation as offering to the simplicity -of his central figure the contrast of environment and variety. The -ancients on the other hand, on their sarcophagi for example, more -frequently made use of general mythological representations of such -figures as Sleep, Death, and the like. - -Allegory generally is far less common in the antique than it is in -the romantic art of the Middle Ages, although it must be added that -such romance as it possesses is not really referable to allegory. The -frequent appearance of allegorical conception at this particular epoch -of human history is to be thus explained. From a certain point of -view we find that the content of the Middle Ages is preoccupied with -particular types of individuality and the personal aims, generally -focussed in love and honour, and resulting in vows, wanderings, and -adventures, which are common to them. Individuals of this type and the -events of such lives invariably offer the imagination a wide scope -for the inventive faculties, and the composition of accidental and -capriciously imagined collisions and their resolution. On the other -hand, in direct contrast to this motley show of worldly adventure we -have the universal, taking it here as the stability of the ordinary -relations and conditions of life, a universal which is not, as was -the case in the ancient world, individualized in the figures of -self-subsistent gods; consequently we find it freely and naturally -emphasized in independent isolation as such universality alongside -of these particular types of personality and their specific modes -of appearance and activity. If the artist therefore happens to have -before his mind the general conditions of life we have adverted to, -and assuming that he is desirous of giving artistic embodiment to them -in some form other than the accidental mode common to his age, that -he wishes, in short, to emphasize their universality, he has no other -alternative than to accept the allegorical type of presentment. This is -precisely what we find in the sphere of religion. - -The Virgin Mary, Christ, the actions and dramatic events of apostolic -history, the saints with their penances and martyrdoms, are, it is -true, even here individualities in the full sense; but Christendom -is also to an equal extent concerned with the general conceptions of -abstract spiritual qualities, such as will not comply with the concrete -definition of actual persons inasmuch as the relation of _universality_ -is precisely the mode under which they are presented, of which examples -are Love, Faith, and Hope. And generally the truths and dogmas of -Christendom are independently cognized by the religious consciousness, -and a main interest even of their poetry consists in this that these -doctrines are emphasized in their _universal_ aspect, that Truth is -known and believed in as _universal_ truth. In that case, however, it -is necessary that the concrete presentation should remain a subordinate -factor, itself external to the content, and allegory is just the form -which satisfies this want in the easiest and most sufficient way. -Conformably to this the divine comedy of Dante is full of allegorical -matter. Theology, for example, in this poem is run together in fusion -with the image of his beloved lady Beatrice. This personification, -however, wavers in the lines of its delineation; and this uncertainty -of outline is that which constitutes the beauty of it, and places it -halfway between genuine allegory and a vision of his youthful love. -In the ninth year of his life he looked on her for the first time: -she appeared to him no daughter of mortal men, but of God. His fiery -Italian nature conceived a passion for her, which the years failed to -extinguish. And conscious that it was she who awoke in him the genius -of poetry he finally sets himself the task, after he had lost in her -that which was most loved in the fairest flower of its promise, of -composing that wonderful monument of the most intimate and personal -religion of his heart in the poetic masterpiece of his life. - - -3. METAPHOR, IMAGE, SIMILE - -The _third_ sphere of content attached to the riddle and the allegory -consists in the _imaged thing_ generally. The riddle veiled the still -independently cognized significance and the mode of its shaping in -cognate, albeit heterogeneous and distantly placed traits of definition -was still of most importance. Allegory on the contrary emphasized -the perspicuity of the significance so strongly as the predominant -aim, that the personification and its attributes appear deposed to -the rank of mere signs. The imaged thing now connects this clarity of -allegorical expression with that impulse of the riddle to envisage the -significance which stands out clearly before the mind in the form of an -externality cognate with it; the result, however, is not that it gives -rise to problems which have first of all to be solved, but rather that -the imaged shape appears, by means of which the preconceived conception -is revealed with absolute transparency, notifying itself as that which -it really is. - -(_a_) _The Metaphor_ - -The _first_ point we have to draw attention to in the _metaphor_ is -this, that it may be accepted at once as essentially a simile, in so -far as it expresses clear and self-subsistent significance in a similar -phenomenon of reality comparable with it. In the comparison as such, -however, both sides of the comparison, that is the real meaning and -the image, are definitely kept apart from each other, while on the -contrary in the metaphor this separation, albeit it is essentially -present, is _not_ as yet clearly _posited._ For this reason Aristotle -long ago distinguished comparison and metaphor by his statement that -a "how" is added to the former which is absent from the latter. In -other words the metaphorical expression specifies but _one_ aspect, -the image. In the context, however, to which the image is attached, -the real significance which is intended lies so near that it is at -the same time immediately asserted without any direct separation of -it from the image. When it is said, for example: "the Spring-time -of these cheeks," or "a sea of tears," we are inevitably forced to -accept such an expression as an image rather than an actual fact, -an image whose significance the context at the same time expressly -designates. In the symbol and allegory the relation of actual meaning -to external form is not asserted either so immediately or necessarily. -From the fact that an Egyptian staircase consists of nine stages, -and a hundred other circumstances of similar pregnancy, it is only -the adept, the connoisseur, and the professor who will derive a -symbolical significance, and doubtless will scent out and discover -much that is both mystical and symbolical into the bargain, which is -so much ingenuity of research thrown away for the reason that what is -discovered is not there. This may have happened often enough to my -honoured friend Creutzer, no less than our latter-day Platonists and -the commentators of Dante. - -(_a_) In range and variety of form it is impossible to exhaust the -resources of metaphor; its definition, however, is simple. It is a -wholly abbreviated comparison, in which we find, as a fact, image and -significance are not as yet set in opposition to one another, but only -the image is introduced by it; at the same time, however, the meaning -which is thus attached to the image is not its real meaning; this is as -it were effaced, and by virtue of the content in which it is set we are -enabled to recognize the significance which is really intended in the -image itself, albeit that meaning is not expressly asserted. - -For the reason, however, that the meaning that is thus rendered -intelligible under the image only comes to light by virtue of the -context, the significance which is expressed in metaphor cannot claim -the importance of an independent artistic presentation; their mode of -appearance is purely incidental, so that metaphors, in a still more -emphatic degree, can only be employed as the external embellishment of -an essentially independent work of art. - -(_β_) The metaphor is mainly used in the expressions of speech, which -we may usefully consider in this relation under the following aspects. - -(_αα_) In the first place every language includes within its own -compass a host of metaphors. They arise from the fact that a word, -which in the first instance merely designates something entirely -sensuous, is carried over into a spiritual sphere. "_Grasp"_, -"_comprehend"_[92], and generally a number of words connected with -the processes of thought, have in regard to their original meaning a -content that is wholly sensuous, which is consequently abandoned and -exchanged for the meaning applicable to mind; the first meaning is -sensuous, the second spiritual. - -(_ββ_) By degrees, however, the metaphorical aspect disappears in the -general use of such a word, which as the current coin of language is -converted from an expression which is not strictly accurate to one that -is so, the effect of this process being that image and import, owing -to the habitual frequency with which the latter is only conceived in -the former, cease to differ from one another, and the image merely -immediately presents the abstract significance itself instead of a -concrete mode of vision[93]. - -When we take, for example, the word "grasp" in the sense applicable to -mental life it entirely escapes us that there is any sensuous relation -implied between the hand and external objects[94]. In living languages -this distinction between genuine metaphor and words which already -through usage have fallen to the level of a mere means of expression -is readily established; the reverse is the case with dead languages, -for the reason that here mere etymology is unable finally to bring our -minds to a decision, inasmuch and in so far as the question does not -depend on the original source of that word, and its general development -in speech, but first and foremost on the fact whether a word which -has all the appearance of being used in a picturesque and metaphorical -sense had or had not already lost by habitual usage under a meaning -applying exclusively to spirit, and in the speech when alive, its first -sensuous significance and been absorbed wholly in that higher sense. - -(_γγ_) When this takes place the invention of new metaphors, which -are the exclusive product of the poetical imagination becomes for the -first time a vital necessity. That in which this invention is mainly -concerned consists _first_ in transferring the phenomena, activities, -and conditions of a higher level of fact in a way that illustrates -the content of less important material, and in bringing to light -significances of such inferior matter in the form and image which -stands above them. The organic, for example, is by itself essentially -of higher importance than the inorganic, and to carry forward that -which has no life within, the range of vital phenomenal enhances its -expression. We may illustrate this with the saying of Ferdusi: "The -keenness of my sword _devours_ the brain of the lion, and _drinks_ the -dark blood of the courageous." In a yet more enhanced degree we find -the same result when that which is of Nature and sensuous is imaged, -and thereby raised and ennobled in the form of _spiritual_ phenomena. -So we have such common turns of speech as "_smiling_ fields," and -"_angry_ flood," or in the language of Calderon: "The waves _sigh_ -beneath the burden of ships." In these examples that which exclusively -applies to humanity is diverted to the expression of Nature. The Latin -poets use such metaphorical language often enough, as we may find -in our Virgil, take the example: _Quum graviter tunsis gemit area -frugibus_ (Georg., III, 132). - -Conversely and in the _second_ place that which pertains to mind is -brought in the same way more close to our powers of vision through the -image of natural objects. Such fanciful presentations, however, can -very readily degenerate into mere trifling and far-fetched conceits, -when that which is essentially without life receives notwithstanding -every appearance of individuality, and really spiritual activities are -assigned to it with perfect seriousness. The Italians more especially -have given themselves over to illusive trickery of this kind, and even -Shakespeare is not wholly free from them, as in that passage from -"Richard II" (Act V, sc. I), where he makes the King say to the Queen -on parting: - -/$ - For why, the senseless brands will sympathize - The heavy accent of thy moving tongue - And in compassion weep the fire out; - And some will mourn in ashes, some coal-black - For the deposing of a rightful king. -$/ - -(_γ_) Finally, if we look at the aim and interest of that which is -metaphorical, the first thing which strikes us is that a word in the -strict sense is an independently intelligible expression, the metaphor -otherwise. The question consequently presents itself, what is the -reason of this twofold means of expression, or, to put it another way, -why is it that we have the metaphorical which essentially implies -this division? The common explanation is that metaphors are used to -give vivacity to poetical composition, and this animating effect is -the ground in virtue of which Heyne, in particular, insists on their -value. The vivacity consists in the support they offer to imaginative -vision in the direction of clear definition, divesting the word, which -is always something generalized, of its purely indefinite character, -and bringing it home to sense by means of an image. No doubt a greater -degree of vivacity is to be found in metaphors than in the strict -expressions of ordinary speech; genuine vitality, however, is not to -be sought for in metaphors, whether in isolation or combination, whose -figurative plasticity, it is true, may frequently include a relation, -which by good chance attaches at the same time to the expression an -increased perspicuity and a higher definition, but quite as often, if -every detail of the process of thought is thus figuratively emphasized -in isolation, makes the whole unwieldy, overloading it thus with its -emphasis on singular aspects. - -The genius of metaphorical diction is consequently, as we shall have to -elucidate more closely in our consideration of simile, to be regarded -as responding to a need and potency of mind and the emotional life, -which will not rest satisfied with that which is entirely simple, -ordinary, and homely, but make an effort beyond this and over into -something more recondite under the attraction which distinction offers -and the impulse to co-ordinate contrasted effects. This binding -together has itself again various causes, which may be notified as -follows. - -(_αα_) _First_, we have it for the sake of _reinforcing_ an effect. The -emotional life, under the pressure and movement of its passions, gives -visible utterance to these forces by means of the piling up of sensuous -image. More than this, it strives to express its own whirl and tumble, -or persistence in the ideas which crowd upon it by means of a similar -letting itself go into phenomena cognate with such a condition, and its -own free movement among images of the greatest variety. In Calderon's -supplication to the Cross Julia utters the following words when she -looks upon the dead body of her only just deceased brother, and her -lover, Eusebio, the man who has killed Lisardo, stands before her: - -/$ - O that I might close for ever - Eyes before this blood here guiltless, - Blood which cries for vengeance with its - Flooding stream of purple flowers! - Would that I could deem thee pardoned - In the rush of tears that blind thee: - Wounds and eyes are mouths which swallow - Lies which seek admittance never, etc. -$/ - -With a still more vehement burst of passion Eusebio starts back from -the sight of her, when Julia finally is for surrendering herself to -him, as he exclaims: - -/$ - Flaming sparks thine eyeballs scatter; - Every sigh is breath that scorches; - Every word is a volcano, - Every hair a scribbled lightning, - Every word is Death, and every - Soft caress is Hell's own anguish; - Such the horror stirs within me - As I see--O awful symbol, - Crucifix thy bosom carries. -$/ - -The human soul on the swell of its emotion keeps adding image on image -to that immediately confronting it, and with all this impetuous seeking -to and fro for new means of expression barely lays to rest its own -tumult. - -(_ββ_) A _second_ rationale of the metaphorical consists in this that -the human soul, after adding to its own depth by this the motion of -its own life into the varied survey of objects cognate with it, is -stirred at the same time to cast itself free of the externality of -such objects, to the extent that it seeks to rediscover itself in what -is external; it transmutes that external in its own free activity, -and by clothing both itself and its passions in the forms of beauty, -proclaims furthermore its power to present in visible semblance its own -exaltation above the bare fact. - -(_γγ_) A _third_ ground of figurative expression, and one of at -least equal force, may be found in the purely ribald exuberance of -the phantasy, which is unable to set before us an object in its own -outlines for what they are worth, or a significance in its unadorned -simplicity, but on all occasions hankers after some concrete embodiment -cognate with it, or is overmastered by the ingenuity of a personal -caprice, which, in order to escape the commonplace, abandons itself to -the charms of the piquant novelty, a caprice that is never satisfied -until it has discovered for us points of affinity in material the most -remote apparently from that before us, and has thereby related the same -to the most distant objects. - -And we may here observe that it is not so much the _prosaic_ and -_poetic_ style generally as the style of the _classic_ world in -contrast with that of later periods which presents such a marked -difference in the pre-eminent importance they attach to genuine or -metaphorical expression respectively. It is not merely the Greek -philosophers, such as Plato and Aristotle, or the great historians and -orators, such as Thucydides and Demosthenes, but also the great poets, -Homer and Sophocles, who, albeit we find examples of the simile in all -them, remain on the whole, and without exception, constant in the use -of their direct form of expression[95]. Their plastic severity and -sterling substance will not permit them such a multifarious product, -as is bound up with the use of metaphor, nor will it suffer them, even -for the sake of gathering the so-called flowers of expression, to waver -fitfully in devious ways from their ideal mintage of the completely -simple and co-ordinate result as of one metal cast in one mould. The -metaphor, in fact, is always an interruption to the logical course of -conception and invariably to that extent a distraction, because it -starts images and brings them together, which are not immediately -connected with the subject and its significance, and for this reason -tend to a like extent to divert the attention from the same to matter -cognate with themselves, but strange to both. The prose of ancient -writers in the extraordinary clarity and flexibility of its utterance -and their poetry in the repose of its completely unfolded content[96], -are equally removed from the frequent use of metaphor by modern writers. - -On the other hand it is particularly in the East, and above all the -later literature of Mohammedan poetry, which makes use of the indirect -or figurative modes of expression, and, indeed, finds them essential. -The same thing may be said, if less emphatically, of modern European -literature. The diction of Shakespeare, for instance, is full of -metaphor. The Spaniards, too, are very fond of this flowery region, -and, indeed, have wandered off into it to the point of the most -tasteless exaggeration and superfluity. Jean Paul falls under the -same charge. Goethe by virtue of the equal strength and clarity of -his vision to a less extent. Schiller, however, is even in his prose -exceedingly rich both in image and metaphor; in his case this is rather -due to his effort to bring really profound ideas within the range of -the imaginative vision without being forced to expound all they imply -for the mind in the technical language of philosophy. We behold and -find there the essential unity of the speculative reason reflected on -the mirror of Life as it stands before us. - -(_b_) _The Image_ - -We may place the _image_ midway between the metaphor and the simile. -It has, in fact, so close an affinity with the metaphor that we may -regard it as merely a metaphor _fully amplified_[97], an aspect which -at the same time marks its very close resemblance to the simile; there -is, however, this distinction, that in the case of the image as such -the significance is not set forth in its independent opposition to -the concrete external object expressly compared with it. That which -we term the image arises when two phenomena or conditions, which by -themselves stand substantially apart, are placed in concurrence so that -one condition supplies the significance which is made intelligible -by means of the other. The first, that is to say, the fundamental -_modus_ of the definition constitutes here the relation of _independent -consistency_[98], and is the line of _division_ of the spheres in -their separation, from which both the significance and its image are -deduced; and that which is common to them, the qualities and relations -and so forth, are not, as in the symbol, the indefinite universal and -substantive itself, but the self-defined concrete existence on the one -side no less than on the other[99]. - -(_a_) Under a relation such as this the image may possess as its -significance a whole series of conditions, activities, contrasts, and -modes of existence, and manifest the same through a series of a similar -nature from an independent if cognate source, without emphasizing in -so many words the significance as such within the limits of the image. -The poem of Goethe, entitled "The Song of Mahomet," is of this kind. -It is merely the title here which shows us that in the image of a -rocky water-spring which, in the freshness of youth, leaps over the -cliff's edge into the abyss, and which then spreads away with the rush -of tributary springs down the plain, ever and anon taking up fraternal -rivers, which gives further a name to localities, and sees whole -towns subject to its glory, until it finally bears in the tumultuous -folds of its rapturous heart all these splendours, the brothers, its -possessions, its children, to the great source that awaits them--it -is, we repeat, merely the title which explains to us that in this -comprehensive and radiant image of a mighty river we have the first -bold appearance of Mahomet, then the rapid spread of his teaching, -and, finally, the deliberately planned attempt to bring all nations -to the _one_ faith set forth with such singular directness. We may -view in a similar way many of the Xenien of Goethe and Schiller, those -sentences edged in part with scorn, but as often the mere vehicle of -good spirits, which were flung at the public and its weak authors in -particular. Take the pair of distiches which follow, as an example: - -/$ - Stille kneteten wir Salpeter, Kohlen und Sewefel, - Bohrten Röhren, gefall' nun auch das Feuer work euch! - - Einige steigen als leuchtende kugeln und andere zünden, - Manche auch werfen wir nur spielend das Aug' zu erfreun[100]. -$/ - -Ay, we have in truth seen not a few rockets of this order changed -to dull ash, to the exceeding entertainment of the better half of -public opinion, only too delighted when the rabble of commonplace and -miserable quality, which had for a long time spreadeagled it far and -wide and laid down the law, received a genuine smack in the mouth and a -bucket of cold water over its precious body into the bargain. - -(_β_) In these last examples there is, however, already a _second_ -aspect brought to view, which in our consideration of the image -should be emphasized. In other words the content is in these cases -an _individual_ which acts, brings before us objects, experiences -specific states, etc., and then is reflected in the _image_ not as -such a subject, but merely with a reference to his particular actions, -workings, and experiences. The individual himself as subject is, on -the contrary, introduced without an image, and it is only his actions -and relations strictly viewed which contain the form of indirect -expression. Here, too, as in the case of the image generally, it is -not the _entire_ significance which is separated from its mode of -embodiment, but the subject is alone set forth independently, while -the definite content of that subject receives at the same time the -form of an image; and the result is that the subject is imagined in -such a way as though it was itself the means which supplied the imaged -form of their existence to the objects and actions in question. The -metaphorical relation is, in fact, ascribed to the individual subject -expressly named. This confusion, or at least interfusion of the direct -and indirect modes of expression has frequently been the subject of -adverse criticism, but we do not find very solid ground to support -it[101]. - -(_γ_) Orientals are to an extraordinary degree distinguished by the -bold use they make of this type of imagery. They will unite together -and intertwine in one image entirely _independent_ forms of existence. -Take for example this sentence of Hafiz: "The life-course of the -world is a bloodstained dagger, and the drops which fall therefrom -are crowns." Or that other: "The sword of the sun drips in the red of -morning with the blood of Night, over which it has won the victory." -Or again this: "No one has yet drawn aside the veil from the cheeks of -thought as Hafis since the day when the tips of the locks of the Word's -bride were curled." The meaning of this image may be apparently thus -expanded. Thought is the bride of the word; so Klopstock calls the word -the twin-brother of Thought, and since this bride has been adorned by -man with delicately turned words, no one is likely to be more competent -than Hafis to suffer the thought thus adorned to appear in the clarity -of its unveiled beauty. - -(_c_) _The Simile_ - -From this last type of imagery we may proceed without a break to -the consideration of _simile._ For in the image we already find the -initial appearance of the independent and imageless expression of -this significance, the subject of the image being here designated. -The two types are, however, distinguished by this that in the simile -everything which exclusively manifests the image in a figurative form -is furthermore able to receive an independently subsistent mode of -expression as significance, which thereby appears alongside of its -image and is placed in comparison with the same. The metaphor and image -declare the significances without making that declaration explicit, -so that it is only the context, in which either metaphor or image -occur, which shows without disguise what their meaning veritably is -intended to be. In the simile, on the contrary, both aspects, image and -significance, albeit no doubt we find at one time it is the image, and -at another the significance which is most clearly and fully emphasized, -are kept completely apart and set forth each in its isolation, and only -then, and in such severation are related to one another in virtue of -the similarity of their content. - -Viewed in this relation it is possible to characterize the simile as -to some extent merely a vain _repetition_, in so far, that is, as one -and the same content is reproduced in a twofold, or it may be threefold -or fourfold form. In part, too, we may even see in it a frequently -wearisome _superfluity_, for the reason that the significance is -already there as an independent factor, and requires no further mode -of figuration to render it intelligible. The question consequently -presses upon us here with even more insistence than in the case of the -image and metaphor, what essential interest and object there may be in -the employment of isolated examples or a whole number of similes. For -their use is not to be justified on the commonly received ground of -mere vivacity, and the contention that they increase the lucidity of -expression will assist us just as little. On the contrary similes make -a poem only too frequently insipid and overweighted, and an image or -metaphor by itself can possess a clarity fully as pronounced without -there being any previous necessity to attach the significance to either -as something still outside. - -We must consequently conceive the object of the simile to consist in -this, that the subjective[102] imagination of the poet, however much -it has brought home to the artist's consciousness the content, which -it seeks to express, with distinctive emphasis according to its more -abstract generality and expresses it in this universal aspect, yet it -finds itself equally under a constraint to seek out a concrete form -for it, and to envisualize for itself in the phenomena of sense that -which already is clearly before the mind as its significance. Looked -at in this way we shall find that the simile is, no less than the -image and the metaphor, indicative of the bravery which invariably -distinguishes imaginative power when it faces its object, it matters -not what, it may be a single object of sense-perception, a definite -condition, or a general significance--the enterprise, that is, to bind -together with its own activity that which lies remote from it in its -external environment, and by so doing to carry away by force objects of -the greatest variety, and unite them to the interest which its unified -content possesses, and generally to annex to the matter in hand a whole -world of diversified phenomena. And this power of the imagination -continually to find out the new plastic shape, and cement together -heterogeneous material by means of the relations and associations of -sense is, in general terms, also the rational basis of the simile. - -(_α_) In the _first_ place, then, this impulse to compare can find -satisfaction simply by virtue of the demand which it satisfies, without -bringing to light, that is to say, anything else in the brilliancy of -its images than the bravery of the imagination itself. And this is but -the same thing as that revelry[103] of imaginative power, which, more -particularly in the East, with all the easy-going tranquillity of the -South regales itself in the wealth and splendour of its images nor -seeks any other object, while it seduces the hearer to give himself up -to the same spirit. At the same time we are frequently astounded by -the amazing force, with which the poet surrenders himself to ideas of -the most startling contrasts, and displays a cunning of combination -which far exceeds all the effort of mere wittiness as an indication of -genius. Calderon, too, supplies us with many comparisons of this type, -more particularly in his pictures of important and splendid pageants -and festive processions, in his descriptions of chargers and cavaliers, -or in his reference to ships, which on one occasion he calls "birds -without pinions, and fish without fins." - -(_β_) A _second_ and more intimate aspect of these comparisons is that -in virtue of which we find them to be a _tarrying by_ one and the same -object, which becomes thereby the substantial centre of a series of -other ideas remote from it, by pointing to or illuminating which the -interest of the content compared receives a tangible increase. - -This protraction of the interest round one centre may be explained in -several ways. - -(_αα_) As the _first_ we may draw attention to the _absorption_ of -the soul in the content, which is the source of its _animation_, and -which attaches itself so intimately to it, that it is unable to detach -itself from the permanent interest thus excited. We may at the same -time observe that a fundamental difference once more asserts itself in -this respect between the poetry of the East and the West resembling -that we have already adverted to our discussion of Pantheism. In -other words the Oriental is in his absorption less dominated by the -personal relation, and consequently without the languish and yearning -of self-interest: his longing, such as it is, remains a more impersonal -delight in the object under comparison, and consequently more of a -contemplation. He looks about him with a free mind, sees in everything -which surrounds him, everything which stirs either his mental faculties -or his heart, an existing image of that which actively concerns his -sense-life and his spiritual forces, and with which he abounds. This -type of the imagination which is free from all mere self-obsession, -delivered, I mean, from all morbid introspection discovers its -satisfaction in the figurative conception of the object itself, and -most of all when that object, by virtue of the comparison instituted, -is extolled, exalted, and declared in line with that which is most -glorious and beautiful. The West is in its general contrast more remote -from this impersonal spirit, and in its grief and pain more inclined to -languish and yearn itself away. - -This dallying, as we may call it, is then pre-eminently an interest -of the _emotional_ life, more particularly of love, which delights -to take refuge in the objects of its suffering and its raptures; and -as often as it finds itself unable to break loose from such feelings -finds naught that is wearisome in the task of repainting the object -ever anew. The lover is above all things the prodigal in wishes, hopes, -and ever changing conceits. Among such conceits we have to reckon -the simile, to which love and the emotions generally have recourse, -all the more readily for the reason that they take up and absorb -the entire soul, and are themselves the independently motive source -of comparison. Whatever is their immediate content, is, that is to -say, a beautiful object arrested in its singularity, whether it be -the mouth, the eye, or the hair of the beloved. In such a state the -human soul is active, restless, and the states of joy and pain are -neither without life nor in repose, but full of activity and motion, -are up and down, which at least is continuous in this that it is for -ever bringing all material of whatever kind into relation with the -one emotional centre of the world of the heart. In other words the -interest of comparison has its root in the feeling itself, which is -insistently conscious of the fact, for example, that there are other -objects in Nature which are beautiful, or have given rise to pain and -so on. Consequently love draws these objects with the aid of the simile -into the sphere of its own content, and makes the same wider and more -universal thereby. If the object of the simile is, however, entirely -_isolated_ in its _material_ form, and brought into juxtaposition with -objects of a similar nature, we shall find, and particularly so where -similes of this sort are piled one on the top of another, that such -a composition is due to emotion of a still rather superficial order, -and to reflection equally wanting in depth; the result will be that -the variety which merely plays round an external material will readily -appear to us insipid and of no vital interest, because we have here -no spiritual relation interpenetrating it. We may illustrate such an -effect from the fourth chapter of the Song of Solomon where we find -the words: "Behold thou art fair, my love; behold, thou art fair; thou -hast doves' eyes within thy locks; thy hair is as a flock of goats, -that appear from mount Gilead. Thy teeth are like a flock of sheep -that are even shorn, which came up from the washing, whereof everyone -bear twins, and none is barren among them. Thy lips are like a thread -of scarlet, and thy speech is comely: thy temples are like a piece of -pomegranate within thy locks. Thy neck is like a tower of David builded -for an armoury, whereon there hang a thousand bucklers, all shields of -mighty men. Thy two breasts are like two young roes that are twins, -which feed among the lilies[104]. Until the day break and the shadows -flee away." This _naïveté_ is to be met with in many of the comparisons -of Ossian. Take for example the words: "Thou art as snow on the -heather; thine hair is as mist on the kromla, when he curls himself up -on the rock, and glistens toward the gleam in the West; thine arms are -as two arrows in the halls of the mighty Fingal." - -Of the same kind, only here in wholly a rhetorical way, are the -following words Ovid places in the mouth of Polyphemus (Met. XIII, -vv. 789-807): "Thou art more white, O Galatea, than the leaf of the -snow-white meadowland; more blooming than the fields, more slender than -the elm; more brilliant than glass, more arch than the tender little -roebuck; smoother than the shell ever-polished by the sea; more dear -than Winter's sun, or the shade in Summer; nobler than the fruit-tree, -more comely than the lofty plane." And so on through all the nineteen -hexameters, a description not wanting in rhetorical beauty, but as -the presentation of an emotion, which rouses little interest, itself -equally lacking in interest. - -We may find many examples of this style of comparison in Calderon, -although a halt, by the way, of this kind is more suitable to lyrical -emotion simply, and fetters the march of drama far too insistently, -if it is not actually motived by the subject-matter. Don Juan, for -instance, during the progress of the action, describes at length in -this way the beauty of a veiled lady whom he had followed. This is what -he says to a third person: - -/$ - Natheless in despite and often - Through the gross and barriered darkness - Of that intranslucent veil, - Flashed a hand of sheen most splendid, - Mistress pure of rose and lily, - Princess, to whose matchless glory - E'en the snow's gleam paid obeisance, - Slave all murk of Aethiop moulding. -$/ - -The matter is wholly different, however, when any one capable of -_profound_ emotion, expresses his life through images and similes, -in which the most secret folds of spiritual feeling are unveiled, -the soul here either identifying itself with some scene of external -Nature, or making such a scene the counterfeit of a spiritual content. -We may cite Ossian once again in illustration of this better use of -image and comparison, although the range of objects which serve him -in such similitude is jejune, mainly restricted to clouds, mists, -storms, trees, streams, thistles, grasses, and other facts equally -obvious. Here is one of them: "The Present[105] brings joy to us, O -Fingal; it is as the sun on Kromla, when the hunter has mourned its -absence a whole year long and now it breaks forth from the clouds." In -another passage of the same writer we find these words: "Did not Ossian -hearken but now to a voice? Is it then the voice of the days that are -no longer? Ofttimes, oft as the evening suns, comes the memory of times -that are gone into my soul." And for another instance take this bit of -narration: "Pleasant are the words of song, saith Kuchullin, and dear -to the heart are the tales of times far away. They are as the quiet -dew of the morning on the hill of the roe-deer, when the sun trembles -faintly on his flank, and the pool lies motionless and blue in the -dale." In the case of Ossian this halting by the same emotions, and -their similitudes expresses the attitude of an old age which out of -weariness and exhaustion turns to sorrowful and painful memories. And -generally a recourse to comparisons is evidence of an inclination to -melancholy and effeminate emotion. The desire and interest of such a -soul lies far away and foregone; and for this reason we find as a rule -that, instead of bracing itself up manfully, it yields to its longing -to lose itself in something else. Many of the figurative expressions -of Ossian consequently are quite as much a response to this wholly -personal mood as they are a reflection of ideas mostly of a mournful -colour, and of the restricted circle beyond which he is unable to pass. - -But, conversely, it is quite possible that _passion_, in so far as -it is able to concentrate its forces on one content, despite its own -unrest, with the object of finding a counterfeit of the soul in the -natural world around it, may fluctuate to and fro in a variety of -images and similitudes, which are all purely conceits of the fancy -over one and the same object. A fine example of this we have in that -monologue of Juliet from "Romeo and Juliet," in which she apostrophizes -the night as follows: - -/$ - Come, night; come Romeo; come, thou day in night; - For thou wilt lie upon the wings of night - Whiter than new snow on a raven's back: - Come, gentle night, come, loving, black-brow'd night, - Give me my Romeo; and when he shall die, - Take him and cut him out in little stars, - And he will make the face of heaven so fine - That all the world will be in love with night - And pay no worship to the garish sun. -$/ - -(_ββ_) The similes of epic poetry as they come before us over and -over again in Homer stand out in a marked contrast to the above type -of almost purely lyrical simile in which sentiment is absorbed in the -heart of its content. In the former case the aim of the poet, when -he may by any chance wish to dally with the comparative mode around -some specific object, is, on the one hand, interested in raising us -over the active curiosity, expectancy, hope, and fear, by which we are -moved relatively to the several situations and exploits of his heroes -during the actual progress of events over, that is to say, the general -concurrencies of cause, action, and consequence, and in fixing our -attention upon the images which he places before us in their plastic -repose, purely for our contemplation, serene as the works of sculpture. -This repose, this absolution from the merely practical interest that -we may enter into that which he places visibly before our eyes comes -upon us with all the more force in so far as everything with which -he compares the object is taken from a field entirely remote from -it. Moreover, this halting round the simile possesses the further -significance that by virtue of this kind of twofold painting of the -same object its importance is emphasized, and is thus not permitted -to be whirled away in the mere shifting stream of the song and the -events it celebrates. Take, for example, what Homer says of Achilles, -when that hero, fired with anger, confronts Aeneas ("Iliad," XX, vv. -164-175): - -/$ - As when the harmful king of beasts (sore threatened to be slain - By all the country up in arms) at first makes coy disdain - Prepare resistance, but at last when anyone hath led - Bold charge upon him with his dart, he then turns yawning head, - Fell anger lathers in his jaws, his great heart swells, his stern - Lasheth his strength up, sides and thighs waddle with stripes to learn - Their own power, his eyes glow, he roars, he leaps to kill, - Secure of killing: so his power then rous'd up to his will - Matchless Achilles, coming on to meet Anchises' son[106]. -$/ - -Much in the same spirit he speaks of Pallas, when she averted the arrow -which Pandaros had let fly against Menelaus ("Iliad," IV, vv. 130-131): - -"She did not forget him, and warded off the arrow e'en as a mother -flicks away some fly from her son, as he lies in sweet slumber." - -And again further on when the arrow, notwithstanding, wounds Menelaus -(vv. 141-146): - -/$ - Yet forth the blood flow'd, which did much his royal person grace, - And show'd upon his ivory skin, as doth a purple dye - Laid, by a dame of Caïra, or lovely Maeony, - On ivory, wrought in ornaments to deck the cheeks of horse; - Which in her marriage room must lie; whose beauties have such force, - That they are wish'd of many knights, but are such precious things, - That they are kept for horse that draw the chariots of kings; - Which horse, so deck'd, the charioteer esteems a grace to him; - Like these, in grace, the blood upon thy solid thighs did swim, - O Menelaus, etc[107]. -$/ - -(_γ_) A _third_ motive cause of similes, quite distinct from that -of purely imaginative riot as also the self-absorbed sentiment or, -under its other aspect, the dallying round important objects with -the figurative power of the fancy, we have now to emphasize with -particular reference to dramatic poetry. The content of the drama is -made up of the conflict of passions, activities, pathos, actions, and -the accomplishment of the thing willed by the soul, a content which -does not, as in the case of the epic, take the form of a narrative of -past events, but the dramatic poet places the individuals themselves -before our eyes and makes them unfold their emotions personally in -an objective form, and their actions as taking place in the present: -his mediate position between ourselves and the objects represented -therefore ceases. Looked at from this point of view it would appear as -though in order to make this presence in Nature clear to us a primary -requirement of drama would be that the expression of passions and -the vehemence of their grief, consternation, and delight should be -painted as naturally as it was possible to paint it, and consequently -the simile would be here out of place. To let individuals, on the -very plane of their action, in the full storm of emotion, and in the -continuous strain of the busy world, speak much in the language of -metaphor or image is obviously, from the commonsense point of view, -an unnatural proceeding and injurious to the directness aimed at. -We are by the simile diverted from the immediate situation, and the -characters, whose actions and emotions are involved in it, to something -external and strange to it, which in short does not strictly belong to -it, as part of its own present; consequently the general course of the -dialogue must unavoidably appear to lag under the interruption thus -imposed. And for this reason it came about also in Germany when at -last our young bloods were all for freeing themselves from the fetters -of French rhetorical taste, that the Spaniards, Italians, and French -were regarded as artists who did nothing more than place their own -personal flights of fancy or witticism, their own conventional attitude -to society and elegance of speech in the mouth of their dramatic -characters in situations, too, when the very tempest of emotion cried -out for Nature's most direct expression to the exclusion of all other. -We find as a result of such an insistence on the principle of realism -that in many dramas, which hail from this time, the outcry of emotion, -with all the exclamatory signs and hyphens which may render its nudity -more visible, takes the place of a noble and dignified diction, rich -in image and simile. In much the same sense even English critics -have often charged Shakespeare with a superabundant and too varied -recourse to the simile, some of which he not unfrequently will attach -to characters in the full strain of personal bereavement, where the -stress of emotion least of all admits of the tranquillity necessary to -reflection, the attitude of mind which is indispensable to this type of -comparison. We may no doubt admit that now and again we meet with in -Shakespeare an exaggerated tendency to pile up image upon image, and -that his diction is thereby overweighted. At the same time we shall -see, if we examine the matter in all its bearings, that even in drama -the simile is entitled to a position essential to this form of poetry -and vital to its action. - -In other words if the emotion makes a pause in similes for the reason -that it is absorbed in its object and is unable to free itself -therefrom, there is also on the plane of _active life_ a distinct -purpose subserved by it, namely, to indicate that the individual is -not thus so exclusively preoccupied with the particular situation or -state of the emotions then uppermost, but possesses a fine and noble -nature superior to such conditions and able to assert its independence. -In passion soul-life is restricted and fettered to its own seclusion, -narrowed down to the point of concentrated heat, either thereby a -mute, an ejaculation of monosyllables, or the rage that vents itself -at random. Greatness of soul and intellectual power alike refuse to -submit to such limitations: they are wings which carry the soul in -a fine tranquillity over and above the storm of pathos that moves -it. It is this deliverance of the soul, which the simile primarily -expresses by the very mode under which it is asserted. In other words -it is only a really profound composure and strength which is able to -make itself the object of its pain and suffering, to compare itself -with something else, and by doing so to view itself impartially[108] -in a strange material; or it may be in a mood of the most terrible -scorn to set forth in the external thing the confronting image of its -own annihilation, and still persist in the repose of its own obdurate -forces. In epical poetry, as we before observed, it was the poet's -undoubted function to transmit to his audience, by means of those halts -by the way which his picturesque similitudes offered, that sense of -tranquillity which is essential to fine art. In dramatic art, on the -contrary, the _dramatis personae_ appear as themselves the _poets_ -and _artists._ Here it is the characters who objectify their own -soul-life in that which they are powerful enough to imagine and inform, -thereby further manifesting to us the nobility of their receptive -faculties and the inherent force of their emotional resources[109]. -For this absorption into something else that is external is now[110] -the deliverance of the world within from a purely practical interest, -or at least is that which lifts the immediacy of emotion to the level -of forms the soul may contemplate in freedom; and for this reason -every comparison instituted simply for the comparison's sake in the -way we have already observed it under the first aspect of the simile -discussed, is vindicated now in a much profounder sense than was then -possible; it can now only appear as a victory over the exclusive -obsession of passion and the release from its masterdom. In following -up the course of this liberating process we will now emphasize several -important distinctions to illustrate which we shall borrow exclusively -from Shakespeare. - -(_αα_) Now in the first place we would observe that when we have a soul -set before us about to meet with a grave misfortune, by which it will -be shaken to its depths, and the pain of this inevitable cataclysm -is at length actually entered upon, it would be nothing less than an -indication of a nature essentially commonplace if it were there and -then to break out into the cry of horror, pain, and desperation, and so -make a clean breast of it. A strong and noble spirit on the contrary -holds its lamentation as such in reserve, keeps a hand of iron upon its -pain, and by this means preserves a free power to embody in far-distant -material imaginatively presented the profound sense of its anguish, -and to express its own tragic state under the image of that which is -remote. Thus man rises superior to his suffering; he is not utterly -with all that is in him bondman to it; rather he is as wholly distinct -from it as he is one with it; and consequently he can still pause -before that which is outside and beyond him, which he relates to his -emotion as an independent force cognate with his own. This will explain -to us those words of the old Northumberland in Shakespeare's "Henry -IV," when he inquires of the messenger who comes to inform him of the -death of Percy, what news he brings him of his son and his brother, -and, on receiving no reply, gives utterance to the composure of the -most poignant grief as follows: - -/$ - Thou tremblest; and the whiteness of thy cheek - Is apter than thy tongue to tell thy errand. - Even such a man, so faint, so spiritless, - So dull, so dead in look, so woe-begone, - Drew Priam's curtain in the dead of night, - And would have told him half his Troy was burnt; - But Priam found the fire ere he his tongue, - And I my Percy's death ere thou report'st it[111]. -$/ - -This attitude of the soul, which spins about itself as it were -the garments of its pain, and yet retains the power throughout to -image itself under new modes of comparison, receives a particularly -striking illustration in the character of Richard II, where we find -him repentant over the youthful frivolity of his days of prosperity. -In fact there is no trait in this royal grief that is more touching -or suggestive of a child's simplicity than the fact that he always -expresses himself under the objective form of most pertinent images, -and in the play of this type of self-expression preserves his suffering -all the more profoundly. When, for example, Henry demands of him the -crown, he replies: - -/$ - Give me the crown. Here, cousin, seize the crown; - Here cousin; - On this side my hand, and on that side yours. - Now is this golden crown like a deep well - That owes two buckets, filling one another, - The emptier ever dancing in the air, - The other down, unseen and full of water. - That bucket down and full of tears am I, - Drinking my griefs while you mount up on high[112]. -$/ - - -(_ββ_) The other aspect to which we would now draw attention is this, -namely, that a character which is already made one with its interests, -its sorrow, and its destiny, endeavours by means of the simile to -release itself from this immediate union, and makes this deliverance -obvious to us by the very fact that it shows itself still able to -deduce such similitudes. In "Henry VIII,"[113] for instance, the Queen -Katherine, on being forsaken by her royal consort, expresses the depth -of her desolation in the words: - -/$ - I am the most unhappy woman living! - Alas, poor wenches, where are now your fortunes? - Shipwreck'd upon a kingdom, where no pity, - No friends, no hope; no kindred weep for me; - Almost no grave allow'd me: like the lily, - That once was mistress of the field and flourish'd, - I'll hang my head and perish. -$/ - -In a still more admirable manner in "Julius Caesar"[114] Brutus -exclaims to Cassius, to whose want of spirit he has vainly striven to -give the spur: - -/$ - O Cassius, you are yoked with a lamb - That carries anger as the flint bears fire; - Who, much enforced, shows a hasty spark, - And straight is cool again. -$/ - -That Brutus in such a situation can find room for a simile is already -an excellent proof that he himself has thrust his scorn into the -background, and has begun to assert himself as master of it. - -For the most part Shakespeare, by endowing his criminal characters -with greatness of soul in crime no less than in misfortune, exalts -them before he leaves them above their own evil passions: he will not -let them rest in the purely abstract assertion of crimes they are for -ever going to do, but never really commit, as is the French style, but -actually infuses them with the imaginative power, by means of which -they stand out before us as distinctly as any other personification -that is new to us. Macbeth, for instance, when his last hour has -struck[115], exclaims in the well-known words: - -/$ - Out, out, brief candle! - Life's but a walking shadow, a poor player - That struts and frets his hour upon the stage - And then is heard no more: it is a tale - Told by an idiot, full of sound and fury - Signifying nothing. -$/ - -The same thing may be said of those last words of Cardinal Wolsey in -"Henry VIII,"[116] uttered at the close of his career when struck down -from the summit of his greatness: - -/$ - Farewell! a long farewell to all my greatness! - This is the state of man: to-day he puts forth - The tender leaves of hopes: to-morrow blossoms, - And bears his blushing honours thick upon him; - The third day comes a frost, a killing frost; - And when he thinks, good easy man, full surely - His greatness is a-ripening, nips his root, - And then he falls, as I do. -$/ - -(_γγ_) In this impersonal relation of objective fact and its expression -of the comparative mode, the repose and substantial self-command of -character returns to itself; it is the means whereby the pain of a -great downfall is softened. So Cleopatra exclaims[117] to Charmian, -after she has already put the mortal aspic to her breast: - -/$ - Peace, peace! - Dost thou not see my baby at my breast, - That sucks the nurse asleep? - As sweet as balm, as soft as air, as gentle-- -$/ - -The bite of the serpent relaxes her members so gently that Death is -himself deceived and holds himself to be Sleep. And this image may well -pass as itself a counterfeit of the mild and allaying influence of such -similitudes. - - -C. THE DISAPPEARANCE OF THE SYMBOLIC TYPE OF ART - -_Didactic_, _descriptive poetry and the ancient epigram._ - -The conception we have in general terms formed of the symbolic type -of art is such that within it significance and expression are unable -to unite sufficiently to appear in complete and reciprocal fusion. -In unconscious symbolism the _incompatibility_ of these two aspects -remained a fact throughout, if not actually _declared_ as such; in the -Sublime on the contrary this inadequacy was _explicitly_ asserted: -the absolute significance, God, no less than His external reality, -the world, are expressly represented in this excluding relation to -one another. On the other hand, however, in all these types that -further aspect of symbolism, namely, the _affinity_ which obtains -between the significance and the external form, in which it is visibly -manifested, still retained its importance. In the original type of -symbolism this was exclusively the case, a type which did not as yet -set forth the significance in contrast to its concrete existence. -But in the Sublime, too, it remained an _essential_ relation, a type -which, in order to express the Supreme Being, if here under a wholly -inadequate mode, required as its means the phenomena of Nature, and the -events and exploits of God's chosen people. And finally it reappears -in the comparative type of art a personal relation and one that is -consequently amenable to _caprice._ This element of caprice, however, -albeit it is an entirely present fact and particularly so in the case -of the metaphor, image, and simile, is notwithstanding still hidden -away behind the _affinity_ between the significance and the image -utilized to express it, in so far as it selects the comparison simply -out of a regard for their mutual resemblance, a fundamental aspect of -which is not so much the _external_ form as just this _relation_ set up -between them by the activity of the soul and consisting in subjective -emotions, points of view and ideas and their cognate modes of -configuration[118]. When, however, it is not the notion of the material -itself, but simply a capricious use of the judgment, which brings -together the content and its artistic form, both can only be conceived -as posited in an entirely external relation to one another; their -association is now a juxtaposition without essential relation, simply -a dressing up, that is to say, of the one side by the other. For this -reason we have here to treat these last-mentioned and subordinate types -of art by way of supplement. They arise from the absolute collapse of -the essential phases in all true art-production; they bring before us, -in short, by their independence of the principle of relativity the -suicide of the symbolic type. - -If we view this stage generally as a whole we find on the one hand -already as wholly independent the elaborate but formless significance, -for the artistic shaping of which all that we can now supply is an -external ornament selected at caprice to set it off. On the other side -we have the external mode pure and simple. That is to say, instead of -being mediated in its identity with that on which it is imposed by the -fact that this is its own essentially cognate significance it can now -only be accepted and described in the aspect of its self-subsistence -over against this _centrum_ of significance, and consequently only -as mere externality. From the above contrasted aspects we may -differentiate in abstract terms _didactic_ from _descriptive_ poetry, -a distinction which so far at least as the didactic is concerned is -only to be made good under the poetic type for the reason that this -alone is able to bring before us the significance in its abstract -universality. - -Inasmuch, however, as the notion of art does not consist in the -dissociation, but the identification of significance and form we find -even at this stage not only a complete separation, but also in line -with that, a relation asserted between the sides thus opposed. This -relation, however, now that the partition line of symbolism has already -been _crossed_, is no longer of a symbolic nature, and is therefore -an attempt to abolish the fundamental characteristics of that type, -namely, the incompatibility, and at the same time the self-subsistence -of form and content, a position that all the previous types were unable -to transcend. Owing, however, to the separation of the two sides, -which thus make for unity, being already presupposed by this type -this attempt can only be looked upon as a mere aspiration[119], to -completely satisfy which in all that it involves is reserved for a more -perfect type of art, namely, the classical. - -We will now briefly glance at these supplementary forms, in order to -make our passage from them to the real type above mentioned more fully -intelligible. - - -1. THE DIDACTIC POEM - -When a significance, which as such co-ordinates a homogeneous -_complexus_ of relations, is apprehended exclusively as significance, -yet does not receive the form strictly adequate to this content, but -is merely invested with the external ornamentation of art, then we -have before us the didactic poem. The didactic poem does not figure -among the genuine types of art. For in it we find on the one hand a -content already completely elaborated under a mode that is thereby -necessarily prosaic, while on the other we have the artistic form, -which is merely tacked to it in an external way, for this very reason -that it had already been accepted by the mind in a form stamped with -_prose_ throughout, and is merely exhibited to our common sense or -reflective faculties as instruction under this prosaic aspect, that is -to say, with an exclusive reference to the significance embodied in -its abstract and general terms. Consequently art, in this its external -relation to a content so essentially foreign to its real informing -process, can only recognize in the didactic poem its external aspects, -such as metre, exalted language, episodic matter, images, similes, -ebullitions of sentiment, points of acceleration and transition in -the march of ideas, aspects in short which do not give us the heart -of the content as such, but rather surround it as an incidental -accretion, with the object of alleviating and making more enjoyable the -serious and dry tone of the didactic material by means of their more -inspiriting atmosphere. That which is intrinsically, in the fundamental -conception of it, relegated to prose, cannot receive the poet's -mintage, though it may be the peg on which he may hang his mantle[120]. -Just as we find, for example, that the art of gardening is in great -measure a purely external rearrangement of what is already presented us -by Nature, but not necessarily of that which is itself a truly lovely -locality; or as the art of building ameliorates by its ornament and -external decoration a locality which has been expressly devoted to -prosaic purposes and affairs. - -In this way Greek Philosophy made a start under the mode of the -didactic poem. We may even adduce Hesiod as an example, albeit a -prosaic treatment of this kind in its strict sense is only fully -assured when the understanding is undisputed master of the subject -with its train of reflections, consequences, and classifications, and -instructs us from this standpoint alone in as pleasing and elegant a -way as it can. Lucretius, too, in his relations to the philosophy of -Epicurus, and Vergil, with the information he supplies on agriculture, -are in part examples of the same type. Despite all their artistic -adroitness they are unable to give their versification the genuine -spontaneity of the artistic form. In Germany the didactic poem is -new out of fashion; in France Delille, in addition to his previous -efforts entitled "Les jardins, ou l'art d'embellir les paysages," and -his "Homme des champs," has presented his compatriots with a further -example of the didactic poem, in which he has treated physical science -as compendiously through its forms of magnetism, electricity and the -rest. - - -2. DESCRIPTIVE POETRY - -The _second_ type which we have to examine stands out in direct -contrast to the previous one. The point of departure here is not from a -significance already present before the mind in an independent form of -its own, but from external objects simply such as natural localities, -buildings, seasons of the year or periods of time, and the modes under -which they are presented to sense. But as we found in the didactic -poem the content persisted in formless _generality_ so far as its -essential character was concerned, so here, if in a converse manner, -the _external material_ is _independently_ set forth in the singularity -which pertains to it simply as phenomenon without being drawn within -the circle of the significances apparent to mind; and it is this -particularity which is depicted and described in its external aspect -precisely as it appears to the matter-of-fact consciousness. Such a -sensuous content has no relation to true art whatever, except under the -_one_ feature, namely, that of its external existence; and this can -only claim art's recognition in so far as it represents the natural -basis of _spiritual_ life and individuality, its actions and events, -the facts, that is to say, which constitute an environing world; as -merely external form separated by itself from all that pertains to such -life it has no such claim. - - -3. RELATION OF BOTH ASPECTS - -On grounds deducible from the above, neither the instructive nor the -descriptive type is secured in the exclusive one-sidedness which would -obliterate every vestige of art, and we find in the one case that the -external reality is brought into appreciable relation with that which -is seized by mind as significance, just as conversely in the other the -abstract universal is related to its concrete mode of appearance. - -(_a_) We have already explained how this is so in the case of the -didactic poem. Without depicting external conditions and particular -phenomena, without the episodical narration of mythological and other -illustrations we shall rarely find a genuine example of it. By means, -however, of a parallel series of this character in which the universal -for mind is thus laid alongside of the particular object of sense we -have merely a quite collateral relation set up instead of a union -carried out in every detail, a parallelogism, moreover, which does not -affect the entire content and its all-embracing artistic form, but -merely isolated aspects and traits. - -(_b_) Such a modicum of true relation is particularly conspicuous in -the case of descriptive poetry, in so far as its delineations are -accompanied with such emotions as the sight of natural landscape, the -course of the days and seasons, a wooded hill, a lake, a babbling -brook, a church, a picturesquely situated village and the poor man's -peaceful cottage are likely to arouse. We find consequently in -descriptive poetry much as we do in the didactic poem episodes which, -although merely accessory, animate us, in particular through the -reflection of affecting emotions, such as a tender melancholy or little -touches of occasional experience taken from the more homely levels of -life. Such an association of spiritual feeling with the external facts -of Nature can still only too easily in this type of poetry remain -wholly external in its presentation. For the natural or local condition -is here assumed to be something which quite independently confronts -us. Man no doubt draws near to it; under its influence he entertains -this or that feeling, but there is nothing which essentially unites -moonlight, forests, valleys, landscape, and so on, with the emotions -of the soul they excite. I am not here either the interpreter or the -animating focus of Nature, but feel, as each happens to confront me, -a wholly indefinite kind of harmonious reciprocity establish itself -between the objects I face and the emotional life which they stimulate. -Most of all are we Germans devoted to this type of picturesque -description, and along with it to every variety of exquisite feeling -and heart effervescence such natural scenery can possibly evoke. It is -a public high-road over which all may march in line. Even some of the -odes of Klopstock are tuned to its key. - -(_c_) But _thirdly_, if we inquire whether there is not a profounder -relation between these opposed aspects of the internal feeling and -external object, we shall find our nearest approach to an answer in the -ancient _epigram._ - -(_α_) The very name of the epigram already expresses the original gist -of it. It is an _inscription._ - -Unquestionably we find, also here on the one hand an object, and on -the other we have a definite statement propounded as to this object; -but in the most ancient epigrams, among which Hesiod has preserved a -few examples, we do not have the picture of an object accompanied by -any reaction of feeling, rather we find, the matter of fact put before -us in two distinct ways. In the one the external existence, and with -it the meaning thereof and explanation, is concentrated in its form -as epigram on the keenest and most forcible of its characteristics. -This original characterization of the epigram, however, even among the -Greeks, later examples have already lost; and we find an increasing -tendency both to secure and apply the passing conceits of fancy, -whether ingenious, witty, or merely entertaining, to particular -incidents, works of art, people and so on, ideas in short which do not -so much set forth the object itself, as illustrate the condition of -personal feeling in reference to the same. - -(_β_) The main point to observe here is this that, just in proportion -as the object itself fails as such to become the predominant factor -in this type of presentment to that extent it becomes less complete. -In this connection we may also in passing mention a few more modern -examples of an analogous nature. The novels of Tieck, for instance, -not unfrequently have to deal with specific works of art or artists, -or a definite gallery of pictures, composition of music and so forth, -and they have then some nice little romance attached. These particular -pictures, however, which the reader has never seen, these compositions, -which he has never heard, the poet obviously can neither bring before -our eyes nor ears. From this point of view the entire expression of his -art, in so far as it depends on objects of this nature, must remain -subject to this defect. In the same way in yet more important romances -writers have sought to embody as the real content of their work entire -arts, and their finest productions as Heinse, for instance, did with -that of music in his _Hildegard von Hohenthal._ But in every case -where we find that a work of art throughout is unable to reproduce -with essential adequacy its fundamental subject-matter, we can -only conclude that the primary cause of this defect arises from the -inadequacy of the type of art selected. - -(_γ_) To remove the defects above adverted to two things are clearly -essential; the objective fact and the explanation of it which is -offered to mind must not be suffered to fall into absolute _severation_ -as was the case in the type last considered, nor must the union when -effected, an equally important point, assume a character _identical_ -with either the symbolical, sublime or purely comparative types. A yet -more genuine form of presentment must be sought for under a condition -in which we find that the fact in question supplies an elucidation -of its ideal content by means of its external mode of appearance, -and actually in this mode, a condition under which that which is of -spirit unfolds itself completely in the form of its reality, and the -corporeal and external presence is simply the adequate explication of -the spiritual and ideal. In order, however, to follow up this problem -to its complete _fulfilment_ we must bid farewell to the symbolic types -of art. For the essential character of symbolism consisted precisely in -this that the union of the animating principle of the significance with -its spatial embodiment always _stopped short_ of such completeness. - -[Footnote 76: In other words everything created being posited as -unsubstantial apart from the One necessitated the conclusion that -all the Goodness, etc., there divulged was referable to that Supreme -Source.] - -[Footnote 77: _Bewussten_, that is a symbolism conscious of its typical -character. I have above used the expression "premeditated," but -"conscious" is perhaps sufficient.] - -[Footnote 78: I understand _auf solche Weise,_ "under such a mode as -expressed either by Symbolism or the Sublime."] - -[Footnote 79: It is prosaic because it has no absolute root in reality.] - -[Footnote 80: Lit., "As consciousness lays hold of the same in the -clear light of ordinary reason" (_seiner verständigen Klarheit._)] - -[Footnote 81: _Theoretische_, that is personal, contemplative rather -than practical.] - -[Footnote 82: Lit., "and his freedom secludes itself with a prophetic -instinct (_ahndend_) in itself."] - -[Footnote 83: _Wie die Faust auf das Auge passt._ A proverbial -expression unknown to me. We should rather say "a beam in our eyes."] - -[Footnote 84: As contrasted, that is, with the fable.] - -[Footnote 85: An Indian dancing girl.] - -[Footnote 86: Hegel uses the term in the plural, _Die Verwandlungen_, -possibly with reference to Ovid's Metamorphoses.] - -[Footnote 87: _Standpunkt, i.e._, the form viewed relatively to the -general type.] - -[Footnote 88: _Beseelung._] - -[Footnote 89: Plastic must be taken here in the very loose and pregnant -sense of any art that deals with external material.] - -[Footnote 90: _Ein grammatisches Subject._ Hegel presumably means that -it is merely subject under the mode of literary expression without -possessing the true determination of personality.] - -[Footnote 91: _Aushöhlen muss._ We should rather say that the -allegorist is forced to attenuate (lit. hollow out) the substance of -subjectivity, etc. But I have left the more literal rendering.] - -[Footnote 92: In the German _fassen_, _begreifen._] - -[Footnote 93: _Einer konkreten Anschauung._ That is, a quality or -feature that belongs to the phenomena of the concrete world of -perception.] - -[Footnote 94: Of course this is not so in the English equivalent, where -the primary sense is still material.] - -[Footnote 95: Lit., "Of expressions in the strict sense of the term."] - -[Footnote 96: _Ihr ruhiger vollständig ausgestaltender Sinn._ The -meaning that declares itself completely through the form in classic -repose.] - -[Footnote 97: _Ausführliche_, explicit in all its detail.] - -[Footnote 98: _Das Für-sich-seyn._] - -[Footnote 99: I give the literal translation. I presume a more -intelligible one would be "but actual existence in its self-defined -concreteness." The passage is not easy to follow.] - -[Footnote 100: - -/$ - Silent we pounded up carbon, saltpeter, and sulphur, - Set the train going. Good friend! How did our cracker find _you?_ - - Some as illuminate balls soared prodigious while others exploded, - Many we flashed in our fun simply the eye to delight. -$/ -] - -[Footnote 101: I find this analysis of the image more than usually -difficult to follow, I have therefore made my translation very literal. -I must confess that this distinction between the image and the metaphor -appears to me rather an example of hyper-subtlety on Hegel's part, or -as some might say, an effort to make what is virtually only a verbal -distinction correspond to a more real difference of idea.] - -[Footnote 102: That is the emphatically personal.] - -[Footnote 103: _Die Schwelgerei._] - -[Footnote 104: In the German the sentence is continuous. Our version -clearly gives another reading to the Hebrew.] - -[Footnote 105: May be a misprint for "thy presence," _deine_ instead of -_die._] - -[Footnote 106: Chapman's translation.] - -[Footnote 107: Chapman's translation, somewhat an extension of the -Greek it must be admitted.] - -[Footnote 108: _Theoretisch_, _i.e._, in contemplative repose.] - -[Footnote 109: Such I take to be the contrast implied in the words _den -Adel ihrer Gesinnung_ and _die Macht ihrers Gemüths. Gesinnung_ is the -sense-perception. _Gemüth_ includes the creative fertility.] - -[Footnote 110: _Hier_, _i.e._, as contrasted with the first stage of -the discussion.] - -[Footnote 111: "Henry IV, Part II," act i, scene I.] - -[Footnote 112: "King Richard II," act iv, sc. 1.] - -[Footnote 113: "King Henry VIII," act iii, sc. 1.] - -[Footnote 114: "Julius Caesar," act iv, sc. 3.] - -[Footnote 115: "Macbeth," act v, sc. 5.] - -[Footnote 116: "Henry VIII," act iii, sc. 2.] - -[Footnote 117: "Antony and Cleopatra," act V, sc. 2.] - -[Footnote 118: The meaning is that the selection is not made merely -with reference to external resemblance, but is also based on relations -only existing in the soul of the artist and therefore to that extent -capricious, however much they appear to be essential.] - -[Footnote 119: _Ein blosses Sollen,_ lit., a mere "should," a mere -movement in a given direction.] - -[Footnote 120: This is implied in the contrast of the verbs _umstalten_ -and _überkleiden._] - - - - -SUBSECTION II - -THE CLASSICAL TYPE OF ART - -INTRODUCTION - -THE CLASSIC TYPE IN GENERAL - -Thr central point[121] of art's evolution is the union, in a -self-integrated totality, carried to the point of its freest -expression, of content and form wholly adequate thereto. This -realization, coinciding as it does with the entire notional concept -of the beautiful, towards which the symbolic form of art strove in -vain, first becomes apparent in _classical art._ We have already, in -our previous consideration of the Idea of the beautiful and of art, -outlined the general character of classic art. The _Ideal_ supplies a -content and form to classical art, which in this adequate mode in which -it is embodied reveals that which true art is according to its notion. - -To perfect this result, however, all the various phases of art, whose -evolution is the subject-matter of our previous investigations, are -contributive. For classical beauty has for its ideal substance[122] -free and _independent_ significance, that is to say, not the -significance of any particular thing, but a significance which -_declares itself,_ and thereby points to its substance. This is the -_spiritual_ substance, which in general terms is that which makes of -itself an object. In this objectification _of itself_ it possesses the -form of externality, which, as identical with its ideal character, is -consequently also on its own part the significance of itself, and is -made conscious of itself by this self-knowledge. It is true that in -our consideration of the symbolical our point of departure was that of -the unity of the significance and its mode of envisagement in the art -product; but this unity was _purely immediate_, and for this reason -inadequate. - -For the real content either remained essentially the natural according -to its _substance_ and abstract _universality_, and consequently the -_isolated_ thing in the objective world of Nature[123], although it -was regarded as the real determination of that universality, was not -able to present the same in a mode adequate to it, or that which is -purely ideal, and only to be apprehended by spirit, in so far as it -was received in the artistic content, carried with it in that which -was foreign to its essential nature, namely the immediate individual -and sensuous thing, the mode of its appearance that was in fact -incongruent with it. And generally here significance and form only -stood in the relation of mere affinity and suggestion; and however -much in certain respects they could be brought together homogeneously, -they as clearly fell apart again in other directions. This original -unity was therefore torn asunder; this simple and abstract inwardness -or ideality was imaged for the Hindoo conception of the world on the -one side in the manifold reality of Nature, and on the other in finite -human existence; and the imagination, in the unrest of its impetuous -motion, was carried from the one to the other by turns, without being -either able to deliver the ideal in its essentially pure and absolute -self-subsistency, or to thoroughly infuse it with the phenomenal matter -as it was presented and informed, and so reproduce it throughout that -material in undisturbed union. The disorder and grotesque appearance, -which arose in the commingling of elements opposed to one another, -no doubt again vanished, but only to make way for an enigmatical -condition equally unsatisfying, which, instead of solving the problem, -was only able to prevent the problem's solution. For here, too, still -was lacking the freedom and self-subsistency of content, which only -thereby is rendered explicit in that the Inward is presented to -consciousness as in itself a whole, and by this means as that which -overlaps the externality which in the first instance is other than -itself and foreign to itself. This essential self-subsistency, cognized -as free and absolute significance, is self-consciousness, which has for -its content the Absolute, and for its form the subjectivity of Spirit. -In contradistinction to this self-determining, thinking, willing power -everything else is self-subsistent in merely a relative and momentary -sense. The material phenomena of Nature such as the sun, the heavens, -stars, plants, animals, stones, streams and sea have only an abstract -relation to themselves, and are in the eternal process of Nature bound -up with other facts of natural existence, so that they can only pass -as self-subsistent for the finite perception. The real significance of -the Absolute is not presented in them. Nature is indeed under a mode -expressed[124], but only under the mode of what is outside itself; its -inwardness is not as such for itself, but poured forth into the varied -show of its appearances, and consequently devoid of self subsistency. -Only in Spirit as the concrete, free and, infinite self-relation, -is the true and absolute significance actually disclosed, and -self-subsistent under the mode of its determinate existence. - -On the way to this emancipation of the Idea from the immediately -sensuous medium and to its self-establishment we are confronted by -the _Sublime_ and the consecration of the imagination. The absolute -significance is, that is to say, in the first instance the thinking, -absolute and senseless[125] One, which is self-related as the Absolute, -and in this relation affirms that which it creates; Nature and finitude -generally, as the negative, thing, that which is essentially in itself -devoid of stability. It is the explicit and essential Universal, -conceived as the objective power over collective existence, whether -it be that this One be brought now to consciousness and represented -in its expressly negative attitude to the created, thing, or in its -positively pantheistic inherence in the same. The twofold defect of -this point of view, so far as it is connected with art, consists first -in this that this One and Universal which constitutes the fundamental -significance has not yet in itself arrived at the closer determination -and distinction, and by this means just as little at the point of -real individuality and personality in which it could be apprehended -as Spirit, and could be set before the sensuous perception in a form -which would be applicable to its spiritual content, according to its -own notion, and duly conformable therewith. The concrete idea of Spirit -on the contrary requires, that it both defines and distinguishes itself -in itself, and by the very act of making itself an object discovers -through this reduplication an external phenomenon, which although -material and present, nevertheless is throughout permeated by Spirit, -and consequently taken by itself expresses nothing at all, simply -permitting Spirit to declare itself as its inner core, the expression -and reality of which it is. _Secondly_, from the point of view of the -objective world the defect is bound up with this abstraction of an -Absolute to which the principle of self-determination is lacking that -now also the real phenomenon, being that which is essentially without -substance, is unable to set forth under any true mode the Absolute in -concrete shape. In contrast to those songs of praise and glory, those -celebrations of the abstract and universal majesty of God, we have -now in the passage we are making to a higher form of art to recall -to our minds that phase of negativity, change, pain, and progress -through life and death, which we discovered among other matter in the -conceptions of the East. We have here set before us the principle of -_self-distinction_ in its essential character under a mode which is -unable to unite with its conception the unity and self-subsistency of -that subjective principle. Both aspects, however, both the essential -and self-substantive unity, and the differentiation of that unity by -virtue of a self-defined content, are equally necessary to unfold a -true and free self-subsistency in its concrete and mediate totality. - -In this connection we may incidentally, together with this reference -to the Sublime, mention that further conception which at the same -time entered on its process of explication in the East. It is that -apprehension, in opposition to the substantiality of the one God, -of internal freedom, self-subsistency and innate independence of the -individual, so far as the elaboration of this impulse was permitted -to Eastern nations. The main source of this attitude we must seek for -among the Arabs, who in their deserts, upon the infinite sea of these -expanses, with the clear heavens over their heads, in a nature such as -this have emphasized their own courage and the bravery of their hand, -as also the means of their self-preservation, whether it be camel, -horse, lance, or sword. Here we find the more stubborn independence -of personal character asserting itself in its contrast to the Hindoo -softness and lack of individuality, as also to the more recent -pantheism of Mohammedan poetry, and opposing also to the objective -world its circumscribed, securely defined and immediate reality. With -this incipient stage of the independence of the individual we must also -associate free friendship, hospitality, and august nobility, but at -the same time an insatiable lust of revenge and the inextinguishable -memory of a hate, which is insistent and will have satisfaction with -an unsparing passion and an absolutely remorseless cruelty. None -the less all that happens on this soil is wholly within the circle -of humanity. We have here deeds of revenge, conditions of love, -traits of self-sacrificing nobility from which the fantastic and the -wonderful have vanished; everything is carried forward in the secure -and determinate shape which the causative connection of the facts -necessitate. A similar conception of real objects which are referred -to their determinate basis of actuality[126], and are made visible -in their free power, not merely in that which conserves an exterior -purpose[127], we discovered in an earlier stage of our investigations -among the Hebrews. The more assured independence of character, the -savagery of revenge and hate lie, too, at the root of the original -Jewish nationality. But the difference is at once pronounced, that in -this case even the most powerful images of Nature are depicted less -for their own sake than for that of the glory of God, as related to -which they at once again lose their self-subsistency; and furthermore -even hate and persecution are not merely a personal matter affecting -persons, but are embraced in the service of God as national vengeance -against whole peoples. As, for example, the later Psalms and yet more -the prophets frequently only are able to desire and plead for the -misfortune and overthrow of other nations, and not unfrequently find -the main strength of their utterance in curses and imprecations. - -No doubt the elements of true beauty and art are presented to each of -these points of view above noticed; but they are in the first instance -brought together in haphazard and confused fashion, and are set in a -false relation to each other, instead of being referred to a genuine -principle of identity. For this reason the purely ideal and abstract -unity of the Divine is unable to bring forth any entirely adequate -art-product in the form that is characterized by real individuality; -and at the same time Nature and human individuality either are -manifestly not, whether we consider their inward principle, or their -external mode of appearance, permeated by the Absolute, or at least -not positively pervaded by it. This _externality_ of significance, -which is thus made the essential content, and the determinate mode of -appearance under which it is generally reproduced is finally and in the -_third_ place exemplified in the _comparative activity_ of art[128]. -In this type both sides have become wholly independent, and the unity -that binds them together is merely the invisible subjectivity which -compares. For this very reason that which is defective in such an -external presentment returned in ever more emphatic degree and betrayed -itself as that which was for the genuine art representation merely -negative or, rather, entirely subversive. And when this dissolution is -really effected the significance can no longer remain the inherently -_abstract_ ideal, but the inherently determinate and self-defined -ideal principle, which in this its concrete totality possesses quite -as essentially the other aspect thereof, that is, the form of an -inherently exclusive and determinate appearance; and consequently in -its external existence, as that which is its very own, merely expresses -and signifies itself. - -1. This essentially free totality which remains constant to itself -throughout each successive self-determination in something other than -itself, this ideal principle, which in its objectivity is self-related -is the essentially true, free, and self-subsistent, which in its -determinate existence unfolds nothing other than itself. In the realm -of art, however, this form is not present in its form of infinitude, -is not, that is, the _thinking_ of itself, as the essential, absolute, -which is made an object for itself in the form of ideal universality, -and makes itself, wholly explicit, but is still in immediate natural -and sensuous existence. In so far, however, as significance is -self-substantive, it must in art borrow its form from its own resources -and inherently possess the principle of its externality. It must -consequently, it is true, repair to Nature, but as predominant over -that which is external, which, in so far as it is itself an aspect of -the totality of this ideal realm, no longer exists as purely natural -objectivity, but being without its own self-subsistence, simply serves -as the expression of Spirit. In this interpenetration consequently the -natural form and externality, which is modified by Spirit contains out -and out on its part, as immediately given, its significance in itself, -and no longer points to this as to something separate and different -from the corporeal appearance. And this is that identification of -the spiritual and natural which is appropriate to the notion of -Spirit, which, that is, does not merely proceed no further than the -neutralization of the two opposed aspects, but raises that which is -spiritual into the higher totality, in which it is able to preserve -itself in its own Other, to bring the natural within its own ideal -range and to express itself in and relatively to the natural. It is on -this type of unity that the notion of classical art is based. - -(_a_) This identity of significance and bodily form may be approached -yet more closely under the view of it that no separation of these -opposed aspects[129] takes place within their consummated union; -and consequently the ideal principle does not, as _purely inward -spirituality_, return upon itself from out of the corporeal and -concrete reality, under a process which would give us once more the -distinction of these aspects in opposition. And inasmuch as the -objective and external, in which Spirit is made visible as an object -of sense, according to the very notion of it, is at once throughout -_defined_ and _separate_, mind which is free, and which it is the -function of art to elaborate in the form of reality truly commensurate -with it, can only be that spiritual individuality which is not merely -_defined_ but essentially _self-consistent_ in its natural form. -For this reason it is the _human_ which constitutes the centre and -content of true beauty and art; but as content of art--we have already -developed the subject in discussing the notion of the Ideal--it is -brought under the essential determination of concrete individuality and -the external appearance adequate thereto, which in its objectivization -has been thus purified from the imperfection of the finite condition. - -(_b_) Under such a consideration of the matter it is at once obvious -that the classical mode of representation, if we take it for what -it _essentially_ is, can no longer be of the _symbolic_ type in the -strict sense of the term, however much now and again we may find along -with it the play of that which belongs to symbolism. Greek mythology, -for example, which, in so far as art asserts its mastery over it, -belongs to the classical Ideal, is, if we grasp it in its fundamental -character, not of a beauty which is symbolical, but unfolded under -the genuine character of the Art-ideal, albeit there may be certain -remnants of symbolism which adhere to it, as we shall shortly see. - -If we now proceed to ask ourselves what, then, is the nature of the -determinate form, which can thus enter into this unity with Spirit -without offering merely the suggestion of its content, we shall find it -determined for us in the conception that in classical art both content -and form must be adequate, must, that is, in the aspect of form meet -the demands of totality and essential self-subsistency. For it is a -prime condition of the free self-subsistence[130] of the whole, which -constitutes the fundamental determination of classical art, that either -of these aspects, the ideal form no less than its external embodiment, -should be essentially a totality which goes to make the notion of the -whole. Only by this means is either side _essentially_ identical with -the other, and consequently their difference reduced to the purely -formal differences of one and the same, through which also the totality -appears now as free, the adequacy of both of its aspects being now -fully displayed, inasmuch as it declares itself in either of them and -is one and the same in both. - -The lack of this free reduplication of itself within the same unity -carried with it in the symbolic type precisely this absence of freedom -in the content and with it also in the form. Spirit was here not -clear to itself, and for this reason declared its external reality -not as that which belonged to itself, set forth in its explicit -significance through and in it. Conversely the form had no doubt to -be significant, but its significance only lay partly and on one side -in it. The external existence gave here primarily to what passed for -its ideal aspect, though still under a mode that was external, merely -_itself_ instead of a significance which declared an ideal content; -and in attempting to show that there was something further which it -suggested its power was necessarily put under a constraint. In this -distortion it neither remained true to itself, nor was it the Other, -that is significance, but declared nothing save that which was a -problematical connection and confusion between incompatible things, or -tended to be the purely co-adjutant attire and external adornment of -what was simply the glorification of the one absolute significance of -all things whatever, until it was finally obliged to surrender itself -to the purely subjective caprice of comparison with a significance -which was far removed from it and indifferent to it. If this relation -of unfreedom is to find a release the form must already inherently -possess its significance, or, to speak more definitely, must possess -the significance of mind or Spirit itself. This form is essentially -the _human_ form because the externality of this form is alone capable -of revealing the spiritual in sensuous guise. Human expression in -countenance, eye, pose, and carriage is, it is true, material and -therein not that which the spirit is; but within this corporeal frame -itself the human exterior is not merely alive and a part of Nature as -the animal is, but it is the bodily presence which reflects Spirit -to itself. Through the human eye we look into the soul of a man just -as through the entire presentment of him his spiritual character is -expressed. When consequently the body belongs to Spirit, as _its_ -determinate presence, Spirit is also that ideal principle which is -appropriate to the body, and is no form of ideality which is foreign -to the external form in the sense that materiality still inherently -possesses a significance other than that to which it testifies or -suggests. It is quite true that the human form still carries within -it much of the universal animal type, but the fundamental distinction -between the human and the animal body consists simply in this, that -the human is obviously, by virtue of its entire conformation, declared -as the dwelling, nay, we may add the only possible dwelling-place of -Spirit. And for this reason also it is only in the body that Spirit -is immediately present to others. This is, however, not the place -to discuss the necessity[131] of this association and the peculiar -reciprocity of soul and body. We must here assume this necessity. We -have, of course, many indications on the human figure of death and -ugliness, that is, of other influences and defects which are traceable -to their source. When we find this to be the case it is the function -of art to expunge the divergence between the purely natural and the -spiritual, to exalt the external bodily appearance to a form of beauty, -that is, a form throughout dominated and suffused with the animation of -Spirit. - -We have seen, then, that in this type of representation symbolism is -no longer presented by the external relation, and everything that -partook of effort, strain, distortion, and perversion is eliminated. -For when Spirit has grasped itself as Spirit it is at once explicit -and clear; and on the same ground is also its association with the -form adequate to it from the side of externality, something which is -essentially ready to the hand and a free gift, which does not require, -as a means for its declaration, a bond of connection introduced by the -imagination, and contrasting with that which is immediately presented. -Just as little is the classical form of art exhibited as a purely -material and superficial personification. It is Spirit in its entirety, -in so far as it is intended to make it the content of the art-product, -which passes into that bodily shape, and is able to identify itself -completely with it. From this point of view we may considerer -the conception that art has followed the human figure by means of -imitation. According to the common view, however, this acceptance of -the human figure as the model of imitation appears as a matter of -accident, whereas we should rather maintain the art which has arrived -at its maturity is obliged to reveal its substance by a necessary -law in the form of man as he appears to sense perception, because -Spirit alone obtains in it the existence fitting to it in the sensuous -material of Nature. - -All that we have here observed relatively to the human body and -its expression applies also to human emotions, impulses, actions, -experiences, and occupations. The externalization of these is also, in -classical art, not merely characterized as a part of Nature's life, -but as that of Spirit; and this ideal aspect is brought into full and -adequate identity with that which is external appearance. - -(_c_) Inasmuch, then, as classical art comprehends free spirituality -as determinate individuality, and immediately envisages the same in -its bodily presentment, it frequently falls under the reproach of -anthropomorphism. Even among the Greeks, to take an example, Xenophanes -ridiculed the presentation of Gods by means of the sensuous image in -his famous remark, that if lions had been sculptors they would have -given their gods the external shape of lions. Of a similar tendency -is that piece of French wit: God made men according to His image, -but man has returned Him the compliment by creating God in the image -of man. If we consider the matter relatively to the form of art that -follows, the romantic, we may in this respect observe that the content -of the classical form of beauty is no doubt defective precisely as -the religion of art is so; but so little does the defect consist in -anthropomorphism as such, that we may rather maintain, on the contrary, -that though classical art is certainly sufficiently anthropomorphic for -art, for the higher form of religion it is not enough so. Christianity -has carried anthropomorphism to far greater lengths; for, according -to Christian doctrine, God is not merely individuality in a human -form, but a real and singular individual entirely God, and entirely -a real man who has entered into all conditions of existence, and is -no mere Ideal of beauty and art created by man. If our conception of -the Absolute is limited to an abstract Being essentially without any -characterization then, no doubt, every kind of representation vanishes, -but if God is Spirit he must appear as man, as individual subject, -not as ideal human being, but as actual participator in the entire -externality of temporal conditions[132] which pertain to immediate -and natural existence. In other words, from the Christian point of -view, the infinite movement is carried to the extremest verge of -opposition, and only returns to the absolute unity as the resolution of -this separation. The man-becoming of God is incident to this phase or -significant moment of separation; as real and individual subjectivity -it is involved in the difference between unity and substance in its -bare extension, and in this common sphere of temporal and spatial -condition creates the consciousness in and pain of division in order -through the ultimate resolution of such contradiction by the same -means to arrive at eternal reconciliation. And this essential point -of passage in the process, according to the Christian conception, is -inherent in the nature of God Himself. As a matter of fact, God is here -apprehended as absolute and free Spirit, in which Nature and immediate -singularity is indeed proferred us as a phasal moment of a process, -but, at the same time, as one which is necessarily transcended[133]. In -classical art, on the contrary, the material medium is neither killed -nor suffers death, but for this reason also we cannot wholly find in it -the resurrection of Spirit. Classical art and its religion of beauty -does not consequently wholly satisfy the depths of Spirit. However -essentially concrete it may be, it still remains abstract for humanity -because, instead of movement and reconciliation obtained by the -contradiction we have adverted to of that infinite subjective process, -it merely possesses as its life that undisturbed harmony of the free -individuality determined in its adequate existence, this repose in its -reality, this happiness, this content and greatness in itself, this -eternal blitheness and bliss which even in unhappiness and pain does -not lose its secure reliance on itself. Classical art has not worked -its way to the full contradiction which is fundamentally involved in -the notion of the Absolute and overcome that contradiction. For this -reason it does not recognize the aspect which is in close relation -to this contradiction, that is the essential obduracy of the subject -as opposed to that which is ethical and of absolute significance, -namely, sin and evil, no less than the waste of individual life in its -own subjective aims, the dissolution and incontinence of that world -which we may summarily describe as that of the entire sphere of its -divisions, which is productive on the side both of sense and spirit of -distortion, ugliness, and the repulsive. Classical art fails to cross -the pure territory of the genuine Ideal. - -2. In so far as the _historical_ realization of classical art is -concerned, it is hardly necessary to observe that we must seek for -that among the Greeks. Classical beauty, with its infinite range of -content, material and form, is the gift bestowed on the Greek people; -and this folk is entitled to our respect on the ground that it has -produced art in its highest form of vitality. The Greeks, if we regard -the form of their realized life immediately presented us, lived in -that happy middle sphere of self-conscious and subjective freedom and -substantive ethical life. They did not persist, on the one hand, in the -unfree Oriental unity, which is necessarily bound up with a religious -and political despotism for the reason that the individuality of the -subject is overwhelmed in a universal substance, or, in some particular -aspect of the same, because it has essentially as personality no -right, and consequently no ground to stand on; neither, on the other, -did they pass beyond to that subjective penetration, in which the -particular subject separates itself from the whole and the universal, -in order to make itself more explicit in its ideality; and only through -a higher return to the ideal totality of a purely spiritual world, -succeeds in its final purification of the substantive and essential. -On the contrary, in the ethical life of Greece, the individual was -self-substantive and essentially free, without disengaging himself -from the general interests of the realized State immediately visible -to him and the positive immanence of spiritual freedom in the temporal -condition. The universal of morality and the abstract freedom of -personality, both in its ideal and external aspect, remains in -accordance with the principle of Greek life in undisturbed harmony, -and during the time in which, even in real existence, this principle -asserted itself in still unimpaired purity, the self-substantiality of -the citizen did not stand forth in relief in contrast to a morality -which was to be distinguished from it: the substance of political life -was so far merged in the individual, as he on his part sought his own -liberty absolutely in the universal ends of the entire civic life. -The feeling for beauty, the significance and spirit of this joyous -harmony interpenetrates all productions, in which the freedom of Greece -is self-conscious, and in which she has made visible to herself her -being. Consequently her view of the world is just the midway ground -on which beauty commences its true life and breaks open its serene -dominion; the intermediate realm, that is, of free vitality, which is -not merely a fact at once immediate and natural, but one which is the -creation of a spiritual point of view revealed by art, the realm, that -is, of a culture of reflection, and at the same time of an absence of -reflection, which neither isolates the individual nor on the other -hand is competent to bring back again its negativity, pain, and -unhappiness to a positive unity and reconciliation--a realm, however, -which, just as in the case of Life itself, is at the same time only -a point of passage, however true it be that it scales at this point -the summit of beauty, and in the form of its plastic individuality is -so spiritually concrete and rich, that all tones have their interplay -within it, and also, too, that which is for its own standpoint what -lies behind it, albeit it is no longer present as an absolute and -unqualified principle, is nevertheless felt as that which accompanies -it--a kind of background to it. In this sense the Greek nation has -also, in the representation of its gods, made its spirit visible to the -perceptions and the imaginative consciousness, and bestowed on them, -by means of art a determinate existence, which is entirely conformable -with their true content. By virtue of this homogeneous form, which -is alike consistent with the fundamental notion of Greek art and -Greek mythology, art became in Greece the highest expression for the -Absolute, and Greek religion is the religion of art itself, whereas -romantic art, which appeared later, although it is undoubtedly art, -suggests a more exalted form of consciousness than art is in a position -to supply. - -3. In establishing the position, as we have just done, on the one -hand, that essentially free individuality is the content of classical -art, and, on the other, that a like freedom is the equally requisite -determinant of the form, we have already assumed that the entire -blending of both together, however much it may be presented in the -immediate form, is nevertheless no original unity such as Nature's, -but is necessarily an _artificial_ association made possible by the -subjective spirit. Classical art, in so far as its content and its -form is spontaneity[134], originates in the freedom of the Spirit -that is clear to itself. And for this reason also we may say that in -the _third_ place the artist occupies a position different from that -of his predecessors. That is to say his production declares itself -as the spontaneous _product_ of a man in the full possession of his -senses[135], who as truly _knows_ what he wills as he is _able_ to -accomplish such a purpose; who is consequently obscure to himself -neither in respect to the significance and substantive content of that -which he has resolved to make visible in the form of art, nor finds -himself hindered by any defects of technique from executing the result -aimed after. - -(_a_) If we look more closely at this change in the position of the -artist we shall in the first place find this freedom announced to -us relatively to the _content_ in this way, that he does not feel -compelled to seek for it with the restless process of symbolical -fermentation. Symbolic art remains the captive of its travail to -bring to birth and make clear its form to its own vision, and this -embodiment is itself only the original form[136], that is, on the -one side Being in the immediate guise of Nature, and on the other -the ideal abstraction of the universal, unity, conversion, change, -becoming, origination, and passing away. In this original form of -the artistic process, however, art does not come to its rightful -possessions. Consequently, these representations of symbolic art, which -should be expositions of content, remain still themselves riddles and -problems, and merely testify to the struggle after clarity and the -effort of Spirit, which on and on seeks to discover without obtaining -the rest and repose of discovery. In contrast to this troublous -search the content must for the classic artist be presented him as -something _already there_ in the sense that as a thing essentially -positive, as belief, popular opinion, or as an actual event either -of myth or tradition, it is determined for his imagination in all -its essential character. Relatively to this objectively determined -material the artist is placed in the freer relation that he does not -himself undertake the process of production and fermentation, and -pass no further than the impulse after the real significances of -his art, but rather that for him a completely explicit and unfolded -content lies before him which he accepts and freely reproduces from -himself. The Greek artists received their material from the popular -religion in which already that which had been brought over to Greece -from the Orient had begun to receive a form of its own. Pheidias -borrowed his Zeus from Homer, and other tragedians also did not create -the fundamental groundwork of that they represented. In the same way -the artists of Christianity, Dante and Raphael, have only reclothed -what was already to hand in the doctrines of their faith and their -religious conceptions. This is also, it is true, from a certain point -of view in like manner the case in the art of the Sublime, but with -this difference, that here the relation to the content, as the _one_ -substance, does not permit subjectivity to come by its just claims, and -allows to it no self-substantive finality. The comparative form of art, -on the other hand, no doubt starts with the selection of significances -as images which it makes use of, but this initiative of selection -remains at the disposition of _subjective_ caprice, and on its part -dispenses with all substantive individuality, which constitutes the -notion of classical art, and for this reason must rest with the -personality which creates it. - -(_b_) The more, however, an explicitly unfolded content is present -for the artist in popular beliefs, myth, and other actual facts, the -more his energy is concentrated upon the object of endowing such a -content with the _external embodiment_ of art fitting to it. While -in this respect symbolic art dissipates its resources in a thousand -forms, and with unbridled imaginative power lays about it for material -that it fails either to measure or define in order to adapt forms that -are never really conformable to the significance it is seeking after, -the classical artist in this respect is possessed of an aim that is -at once resolute and definite. That is to say, the free form is with -the content itself defined through that content, and is essentially -pertinent to such content, so that the artist only appears to execute -what is already accordant with the fundamental conception of what is -presented him. While, therefore, the symbolic artist strives in his -imagination, to suit the form to significance or _vice versa_, the -classic artist _adapts_ significance to plastic shape by means of the -process of freeing the external phenomena which are already presented -from that part of them which is merely an incidental product. In this -activity, however, although all that is purely his caprice is excluded, -his productive power not merely follows or is not merely limited to a -bare type, but is at the same time _creative_ throughout the whole. -Art which, to start with, is forced to seek out and discover its true -form neglects for that reason the very aspect of form; but where, on -the contrary, the building up of form is made the essential interest -and the main task there we find the content also receives its plastic -shape by imperceptible degrees through the process of the reproduction, -precisely as we have hitherto found in a general way that form and -content proceed hand in hand during the process, wherein they are -completed. In this respect the classic artist elaborates the result -also where it is a religious world that is presented him; he throughout -develops in the free and buoyant medium of his art the material and -mythological ideas which he receives. - -(_c_) The same applies to the technique of art. In the case of the -classic artist the ingredients must be already to hand; the sensuous -material through which the artist labours must already be disengaged -from all brittleness and extreme stubbornness, and yield directly to -the aims of the artist, in order that the content, conformably to -the notion of the classic type, may make its free and unfettered way -through this external medium. To classical art, consequently, belongs -from the first a high level of technical ability, which has subjected -the sensuous material to an apt subservience. Such a technical -perfection, if it is really to carry out all that is required of Spirit -and its conceptions, is presupposed by the complete elaboration of all -that pertains to craftsmanship in art, that is, in especial degree -of that which makes itself visible within the plastic forms of the -religion to which we now refer. The religious view of things, such -as the Egyptian, for example, discovers, that is, definite external -forms, idols, colossal constructions whose type remains fixed, and, -further, in the usual similarity of forms and shapes, supplies a -considerable field for elaboration in the treatment of it by the -steadily progressive executive powers. This adaptability to the talents -of the craftsman must already have been presented in that which is of -an inferior and distorted type before the genius of classical beauty -can associate these powers of mechanical facility with the forms -of technical perfection. Then, at last, when that which is purely -mechanical work is confronted with no further insuperable difficulty, -is art enabled to proceed in the elaboration of a form, the practice in -working out which is at the same time an elaboration which is in the -closest relationship to the progressive advance of both content and -form. - -So far as the _division_ of classical art is concerned it is usual -in the more general sense of the term to call every complete work -of art classic, whatever the particular character it may otherwise -carry, whether symbolic or romantic. We have no doubt thus accepted -it in the particular sense of art perfection, but with this important -qualification, that this perfection must be based on the thorough -interpenetration of ideal and free individuality and external -definition. We consequently differentiate the classic form expressly -from the symbolic and romantic, whose beauty in content and form is -entirely of another kind. And along with the classic, regarded in its -usual and more indefinite significance, we have as little to do here at -this early stage with the particular arts in which the classical ideal -is represented, as, for example, sculpture, the Epic, definite forms -of lyrical poetry and specific types of tragedy and comedy. These -particular types of art, although classic art is imprinted upon them, -will be first discussed in the third portion of the division of our -subject in the explication of the several arts and their grades[137]. -What we approach more immediately now is the classic in the sense we -have secured for the term, and as bases of our subdivision we can only -therefore seek out the grades of evolution, which proceed from this -notion of the classical ideal itself. The essential phases of this -development are as follows. - -The _first_ point to which we would direct our attention is this, that -the classical type of art is not to be apprehended as was the case with -the symbolic type as immediately primary, as art's _commencement_, but, -on the contrary, as its _result._ We have evolved it, consequently, -in the first instance from the course of the symbolic modes of -representation, which it presupposes. The essential feature on which -this process turned was the concentration of content in the elucidation -of an essentially self-conscious individuality, which can neither -employ for its expression the mere natural form, whether it be that of -the elements or animals, nor the defective and confused personification -of the human figure with it, but receives its expression in the -animation of the human body permeated throughout with the breath of -Spirit. Inasmuch, then, as the essence of freedom consists in this, -to be that which it is through its own resources, that which in the -first place appeared purely as the presupposition and condition of its -origin outside the sphere of classical art must take its place within -the circle peculiar to the same in order to make really visible the -true content and the genuine form by means of the subjection of what -is unconformable to and the negation of the Ideal. This process of -conformation through negation, this process by means of which, whether -we view it relatively to content or form, the genuine type of classical -beauty begets itself from its own substance is consequently our point -of departure, and we shall treat of that in our _first_ chapter. - -In the _second_ chapter, on the other hand, we have reached by means of -this process the true Ideal of the classical type of art. We find here -as the central fact the fair and novel world of the gods of Greece, -which it will be incumbent on us to develop exhaustively from within, -both in its aspects of spiritual individualization, and those which are -related to the bodily form with which such individuality is immediately -associated. - -In the _third_ place, however, the notion of classical art implies -conversely, along with this becoming of the beauty which springs from -itself, also the dissolution of that creation, which will carry us into -a further sphere, namely, that of the romantic type of art. The gods -and human individuals of classic beauty just as they rise so, too, pass -away once more from the art-consciousness, which in part turns round -in opposition to the aspect of Nature that still persists, in which -Greek art, in fact, had elaborated itself in the full perfection of -beauty, in part transcends an undeific[138], defective, and vulgar mode -of reality in order to reveal that which is false and purely negative -therein. In this dissolution, whose artistic activity we shall take as -the material of our third chapter, the specific phases in the process, -which created the truly classical type in that harmony presented by -the perfect fusion of immediate beauty, fall apart. The ideal essence -is made explicit on the one side in its independence of the external -mode of its existence on the other. Subjectivity withdraws into itself, -for the reason that it fails now to find an adequate realization in -the forms hitherto employed, and is constrained to enlarge itself with -the fuller content of a new spiritual world of absolute freedom and -infinity, looking about for novel means of expressing this profounder -grasp of its substance. - -[Footnote 121: The central point, that is, in the entire evolution of -the types of art, classical art being intermediate between symbolic and -romantic art and in a certain sense marking a point of culmination.] - -[Footnote 122: _Zu ihrem Inneren_, _i. e._, that which unites it as a -whole rather than is the purely external form. The Inward of man is the -notion of man, not the mere fact that he has a head and arms, etc.] - -[Footnote 123: The "Nature-existence," as Hegel calls it.] - -[Footnote 124: _Die Natur ist freilich heraus._ Nature is there -explicitly before us, but not all that is implied in Nature is made -explicit in the material world.] - -[Footnote 125: _Sinnlichkeitslos_, "senseless" as devoid of or -abstracted from all sense.] - -[Footnote 126: _Auf ihr festes Maas zurückgeführt._ To their own proper -standard or measure that strictly applies to them.] - -[Footnote 127: I think this must be the meaning of _nützlich_ here. But -the passage is not an easy one.] - -[Footnote 128: That is, the comparative type of art discussed at the -conclusion of the preceding section.] - -[Footnote 129: That is, the Inward or ideal principle and the natural -externality.] - -[Footnote 130: _Selbstständigkeit._ Self-consistency or independence -are perhaps better words here.] - -[Footnote 131: That is, I suppose, the causal necessity as part of -natural evolution.] - -[Footnote 132: _Bis zur zeitlichen gänzlichen Äußerlichkeit._] - -[Footnote 133: These words contain no doubt the epitome of Hegel's -"Philosophy of Religion" and are involved in its difficulties. -The reference to the historical facts of Christianity under ideal -conceptions is obvious. I have translated the words _das Moment des -Natürlichen_ ... _zwar vorhanden seyn_ as a phasal moment of "a -process," but I am well aware that no mere amplification of this sort -can in itself make the words clear.] - -[Footnote 134: _Das Freie._] - -[Footnote 135: _Des besonnenen Menschen_, _i.e._, the man of clear -intelligence, sound sense, as we say.] - -[Footnote 136: The words _dieser Gehalt ist selber nur der Erste_ would -seem to refer back to the expressions _Keine Erste und somit natürliche -Einheit._ But the sense is not very clear.] - -[Footnote 137: _Deren Gattungen,_ their specific types.] - -[Footnote 138: _Entgöttert_--a mode from which the Divine is removed.] - - - - -CHAPTER I - -THE COMING INTO BEING OF THE CLASSIC IDEAL - -In the notion of free Spirit is contained immediately that aspect of -the process of intelligence we may describe as self-introspection, -return upon the self, of being explicit as an object existing for the -self and in a determinate place, although this penetration into the -realm of subjectivity, as we have already observed, does not either -necessarily proceed to the length of making the subject essentially -self-substantive in its negative aspect as against all that is -concrete in Spirit and presented us as the stability of Nature, nor -to that absolute reconciliation which constitutes, the freedom of the -infinite subjectivity in truth. With the freedom of Spirit, however, in -whatever form it may appear, is generally associated the elimination -of that which is purely natural, regarded as that which is the Other -in contrast to Spirit. Spirit must in the first instance essentially -withdraw itself from Nature, uplift itself over, her boundaries and -overcome them, ere it can prevail with unfettered movement within those -bounds as within an element that is opposed to it, and can build itself -up in a positive mode of existence truly indicative of its own freedom. -If we further ask for a closer definition of the object through the -transcendence of which Spirit attains to its self-substantive form -in classical art we shall find this object is not Nature merely as -such, but rather a Nature that is already throughout suffused with -the significations of Spirit, in other words the symbolic type of -art, which made use of the immediately natural form as a means of -expressing the Absolute, its artistic consciousness either seeing in -animals and so forth the presence of gods, or striving vainly under -false modes toward the true unity of the spiritual and the natural. It -is through the removal and reformation of this defective association -that the Ideal for the first time presents itself as the Ideal, and -is forced to develop consequently this process of transcendence within -its own sphere as a phase of its own necessary evolution. Such a -consideration at once enables us to dispose of the question whether the -Greeks received this religion from extraneous sources or no. We have -already seen that subordinate conceptions are necessarily presupposed -in the very notion of classical art. These, in so far as they in truth -appear and are presented as factors of human history, are, as opposed -to the higher form, which strives to pass beyond them, the actual -starting-point of the new self-evolving art. And this is so, though -in the particular case of Greek mythology there is not throughout -historical evidence for these preliminary data. The relation, however, -of the Greek spirit to these presupposed data is essentially a relation -of construction and in the first instance of transformation. If this -were not so the conceptions and forms of the same had remained as they -were. It is true that Herodotus says, in a passage already cited, of -Homer and Hesiod, that they had created their gods for the Greeks, -but he also speaks expressly of particular gods, how this or that -one was Egyptian or some other form: the poetic activity does not -therefore exclude the reception of material from other sources, but -merely suggests an essential transformation. For the Greeks possessed -mythological conceptions before the time in which Herodotus places -those original poets. - -If we inquire further into the more obvious aspects of this necessary -transformation of that which is undoubtedly involved with, but at first -still alien from, the Ideal, we find it set before us in naïve form as -content of mythology itself. The main fact of Greek theology is this, -that it creates itself and constitutes itself from that which has gone -before, which takes its place in the origins and process of its own -generic history. Incidental to this origination, in so far as the gods -are taken to be spiritual individualities in determinate bodily shape, -we find, on the one hand, that Spirit, instead of giving visibility -to its essence in that which is purely vital and animal, regards life -rather as an attribute which is insufficient[139], as its unhappiness -and death, and, on the other, that it is in the living thing that it -triumphs over the elements of Nature and its confused reproduction. -Conversely, however, it is equally necessary for the Ideal of the -classic gods, not merely to stand over against Nature and its elemental -powers as individual spirit in its finite and abstract seclusion, but -to possess itself the elements of the universal natural life notionally -as a phasal moment in the vital constitution of Spirit. As the essence -of the gods is essentially _universal_, and in this very universality -they are defined as individuals, it follows also that the aspect of -their bodily presence must essentially include at the same time the -natural as the essential and wide-reaching power of Nature, and as -vital activity intertwined with spirituality itself. - -In this respect we may differentiate the process of embodiment followed -by the classical art-form under the following points of view. - -The _first_ concerns the degradation of that which is purely animal, -and the removal of the same from the sphere of free and pure Beauty. - -The _second_ more important aspect is related to the elemental itself, -in the first instance conceived as gods put before us as powers of -Nature, through whose conquest alone the genuine race of gods can -attain to undisputed mastery, that is in the war between the ancient -and new gods. But this negative tendency becomes, then, in the _third_ -place, after Spirit has secured its free right, to the same extent -once again an affirmative force, and elemental Nature constitutes an -aspect of godhead permeated with individualized spirituality in order -to re-establish even the animal organism, though here only of an -attributive and external sign. Following the above points of view we -will now, if still at no great length, endeavour to emphasize the more -definite traits, which here come under consideration. - - -1. THE DEGRADATION OF ANIMALISM[140] - -Among the Indians and Egyptians, among Asiatics generally we find -animalism, or at any rate specific kinds of animals regarded as -sacred and worshipped, because in them the Divine itself is taken -to be visible to sense. The animal form is consequently also a main -feature of their artistic representations, albeit they are in addition -merely used as symbolic and in association with human forms, in the -stage previous to that where we find the human, and only the human, -apprehended by consciousness as that which is alone true. It is only -in virtue of the self-consciousness of the spiritual that the respect -for the obscure and gloomy ideality of animal life disappears. This -has already taken place among the ancient Hebrews who regard, as we -have already observed, the whole of Nature neither as symbol nor as the -presence of God, and attach to external objects merely the powers and -vitality which in fact dwell within them. At the same time there still -remains even among them, if in accidental fashion, at least a vestige -of reverence for the living thing as such. We may illustrate this with -the fact that Moses forbids the use of animal blood as food for the -reason that life is centred in the blood. Man, however, is really under -a necessity to eat that which is his natural food. The next step which -we must draw attention to in this passage to classical art consists in -lowering the high worth and position of what is animal, and making this -degradation itself the content of religious conceptions and artistic -productions. And illustrative of this we find abundant examples from -which I shall merely offer the following selections. - -(_a_) We find that among the Greeks certain animals appear conspicuous -among others, as the snake, for example, is presented us in the -sacrifices of Homer as an exceptionally beloved genius[141], and before -all others it is this species which is offered to one god, while -others are appropriated to some other. We find, further that the hare, -which runs across the way, birds observed in their flight to right -hand or left, and entrails are investigated as fruitful in prophetic -significance. All this, it is true, indicates a real reverence for the -animal type, since the gods communicate through them and speak to men -by means of omens. If we look at the heart of the matter, however, -we shall find these to be merely isolated revelations, suggestive of -superstition no doubt, but merely momentary hints of the Divine. On -the other hand, it is an important fact that animals are sacrificed -and the sacrificial flesh eaten. Among the Indians sacred animals are -on the contrary preserved alive as such, and taken care of, and among -the Egyptians they are even preserved after their death. For the Greek -it is the sacrifice which is sacred. In the sacrifice man demonstrates -that he is willing to give up a consecrated thing to his gods, and to -deprive himself wholly of the use of the same. And in this connection -we may observe a characteristic trait in the Greek rite, among which -people the sacrifice was observed as at the same time a hospitable -feast[142], only a part of the same being dedicate to the gods, that -is, the portion which it was assumed they alone could enjoy, while -the Greek himself retained and feasted upon the flesh. Out of this -circumstance originated a mythical tale in Greece. The ancient Greeks, -it is said, sacrificed with the greatest solemnity to the gods, and -suffered the entirety of the sacrificial animal to be consumed in the -flames. Not even the poorer suppliants dared contest this great waste. -So Prometheus endeavoured to obtain by request from Zeus, that they -were merely under an obligation to sacrifice a portion, and could -devote the remainder to their own uses. He slew two oxen, burnt the -liver of both, converted, however, all the bones into one, the flesh -into the remaining hide of the animals, and presented Zeus the choice. -Zeus, deceived by appearances, selected the bones because they were a -larger portion and left the flesh in this way for human consumption. -For this reason, when the flesh of sacrificial animals was consumed, -the remaining portions, which were devoted to the gods, were burnt up -in the same fire. Zeus, however, took away fire from men because by so -doing he made it impossible for them to celebrate their feast. Little -help the ruse gave him. Prometheus robbed him of the fire and in the -excess of his joy flew back faster than he sped thither; for which -cause, so the tale goes, the bringer of good news invariably brings -"speed" with him. In this way the Greeks have directed attention to -this progress in human culture and preserved and reclothed the same in -myth for the mind. - -(_b_) We may connect with the above as a similar example of a yet -further degradation of animalism the traditions of famous _huntings_, -such as we find ascribed to heroes, and handed down as sacred to -grateful memory. In these the slaying of animals which appear as -injurious foes, such as the strangling of the Numean lion by Heracles, -the slaying of the Lernean hydra, the hunting of the Caledonian boar -are set forth as something famous, by means of which the heroes -contended for godlike rank, whereas the Hindoos punished with death -as a crime the slaughter of certain animals. Unquestionably there is -a further interplay of symbolism in deeds of this kind or they lie at -the base of them. In the case of Hercules there is the fact of the -sun and its course, so that such heroic actions supply an essential -aspect of symbolical interpretation. These myths are, however, at the -same time accepted in their express significance as beneficial hunts -and were consciously recognized as such by the Greeks. We must here -again in a similar relation recall certain fables of Aesop, especially -those already referred to of the dung beetle. The dung beetle, that -primitive Egyptian symbol, in whose balls of dung the Egyptians or the -interpreters of their religious conceptions saw the world balls, comes -in Aesop again before Jupiter, and with the important change that the -eagle does not respect his protector the hare. Aristophanes, on the -other hand, has wholly made fun of him. - -(_c_) _Thirdly_, the degradation of the animal is directly indicated -in many of the tales of metamorphosis as Ovid has delineated them -for us in detail with grace and talent and fine traits of feeling -and intuition, but also composed in a rambling way without their -great and commanding ideal significance, treating them merely as the -sport of mythos and external fact and failing to recognize a deeper -significance. Such a deeper significance is, however, there, and we -will consequently, now we mention the subject, make further allusion to -it. For the most part the particular narratives are if we look at this -material, quaint and primitive, not so much on account of the depraved -condition of the culture, but rather, as in the Nibelungenlied, -on account of the condition of a still raw nature. As far as the -thirteenth book, according to their content, they are older than -the Homeric tales; add to this they are a medley of cosmogony and -heterogeneous elements of Phoenician, Phrygian, Egyptian symbolism, -treated no doubt in a human way, but in such wise that the uncouth -stock still remains, whereas the metamorphoses which enumerate tales of -a later period subsequent to the Trojan war, although their material is -also borrowed from fabulous times, clash awkwardly with the names of -Ajax and Aeneas. - -(_α_) Generally speaking, we may regard the metamorphoses as a contrast -to the conception and worship implied in animalism. Looked at from -the ethical side of Spirit they include essentially the negative -attitude toward Nature, making the animal and other inorganic forms a -phase of human degradation. Consequently, if among the Egyptians the -gods of Nature's elements are exalted and made vital in animals, here -conversely, as we have already intimated, the natural form appears -before us as an easier or difficult lapse and a monstrous crime, as the -existence of an ungod-like, unfortunate thing, and as the embodiment of -pain, in which the human is no longer able to remain self-contained. -For this reason they have not the significance of the migration of -souls in the Egyptian sense of that expression; this is a migration -which does not imply guilt, but rather is on the contrary, if we take -the case of the passage of the human soul into the animal, regarded as -an exaltation. - -As a whole, however, this is no severely exclusive circle of myths, -however different the objects of Nature may be, into which that which -is spiritual is banished. A few examples will sufficiently elucidate -the point. - -Among the Egyptians the wolf plays a part of great importance, as, -for example, in the case where Osiris appears as beneficent protector -of his son Horus in the latter's conflict with Typhon, and in a whole -series of Egyptian coins is represented as the assister of Horus. And -speaking generally the association of the wolf and the sun-god is a -primitive one. In the "Metamorphoses" of Ovid, on the other hand, -the conversion of Lycaon into the form of a wolf is presented us as -a punishment for his impiety. After the subjugation of the giants, -we are told[143], and after the annihilation of their bodily shapes -the Earth, warmed by the blood of its sons which had been scattered -in all directions, revitalized the warm blood, and, in order that no -vestige of the former wild stock should remain, brought into being a -race of men. Yet for all that was this after-birth contemptuous of the -gods, eager for savage deeds and murder. Then Jupiter called the gods -into conclave with a view to destroy this mortal race. He informed -them how Lycaon had cunningly formed stratagems against himself, the -wielder of the lightning and their sovereign lord. When, such is -the story, the worthlessness of the times was apparent to him, he -descended from Olympus, and came to Arcadia. "I furnished signs," the -narration continues, "that a god had drawn nigh and the people began to -supplicate." First, to make merry over these pious prayers was Lycaon, -who forthwith cried out: "I will make experiment whether this indeed -be a god or mortality, and the truth shall not remain in doubt." "He -made preparation," continued Jupiter, "to slay me when oppressed with -slumber; he was possessed with the passion for discovering the truth. -And not contented with this, he made an incision with his sword in the -throat of a goat of Molassian pedigree and boiled as to one part the -only partially dead members; and as to the rest baked them on the fire, -and placed both portions before me to eat. Wherefore I, with avenging -flame, have laid his homestead in ashes. Affrighted he fled forth from -thence, and when he reached the silent field he broke forth: in howls -and strove in vain to utter speech. With rage in his jaws and in the -eagerness of his animal lust for murder he turned against the cattle, -and rejoices even now in their blood; his garments have become the -hairy hide, and his arms have turned into thighs. He is a wolf, and -preserves the signs of the primitive shape." - -The tale of Procne, who was changed into a swallow, sets before us the -gravity of the committed abomination with a like emphasis. When, so the -tale runs[144], Procne begs of her husband, Tereus--she happened at the -time to stand in his favour--that he will, forthwith let her go to see -her sister or suffer her sister to visit her, Tereus hastens to launch -his vessel on the sea and quickly reaches the harbour of Piraeus with -his seamanship. He, however, barely catches sight of Philomela before -he is violently enamoured of her. At his departure Pandion, the father, -binds him on oath to protect her with the love of a father, and to send -back as soon as possible the alleviation of his old age. The voyage, -however, is hardly over when the barbarous man deprives her--pale, -trembling, already fearful of the worst, and beseeching with tears to -know where her sister is--of liberty, and as twin-consort forces her -to be his concubine along with her sister. Overcome with anger and -thrusting all sense of shame on one side, Philomela threatens of her -own accord to betray the deed. Tereus on this draws his sword, seizes -and binds her and cuts off her tongue, informs, however, his wife by -way of evasion of the death of her sister. Thereupon the sorrowing -Procne tears off the fine linen from her shoulders and puts on mourning -apparel; she raises an empty tomb and in a mode somewhat out of place, -as it happens, laments the lamentable fate of her sister. How then does -Philomela meet this? A prisoner, robbed of all speech, of her voice, -she bethinks her of craft. With threads of purple she works the news -of the crime upon a white texture, and sends the raiment secretly to -Procne. The wife reads the heartrending news of her sister; she neither -speaks nor weeps; she lives wholly in the image of revenge. It was the -time of the festival of Bacchus. Driven forth by the furies of her -passionate grief she forces her way to her sister; she tears her from -her chamber and carries her off with her away. Then in her own house, -while she still is in doubt what terrible act of vengeance she shall -exact on Tereus, Itys appears before his mother. She stares upon him -with eyes of wildness. How like he is to his father! No further word -she utters, but consummates at once the doleful deed. They slay the -boy and serve him on his father's table, who partakes eagerly of his -own flesh and blood. He then calls for his son, and Procne exclaims -that he carries within him that which he calls for; and, as he still -looks about him and seeks after him and again asks and calls for him, -Philomela sets before his face the bloody head. Then he breaks away -from table with an awful cry of anguish, and weeps and calls himself -his son's sepulchre, and forthwith makes after the daughters of Pandion -with the naked steel. But now supplied with wings they float away from -thence, the one into the forest, the other into the roof; and Tereus -also, despite all the energy of his sorrow and desire of revenge, is -changed into the bird which rears on its crest the comb of feathers, -and carries a beak of immoderate projection. The name of the bird is -the hoopoe. - -On the other hand, we have changes which proceed from a guilt of less -significance. As examples, there is Cygnus who became a swan, and -Daphne, the first love of Apollo[145], who was changed into the laurel, -Clyde into the heliotrope, Narcissus, who despised in his vanity -maidens, and sees himself in the watery mirror, and Biblis[146], who -was enamoured of her brother, and is, when he scorns her, changed into -the spring which even now bears her name and flows beneath the shading -oak. - -However, we must not lose ourselves in further digression through -particular examples, and I will merely, by way of passage, and the -one further reference to the change of the Pierides, who, according -to Ovid[147], were the daughters of Pieros and challenged the Muses -to a match of rivalry. For ourselves the distinction of importance -is the nature of the songs which the combatants sang respectively. -The Pierides celebrate the battles of the gods[148] and honour the -giants unduly while they depreciate the deeds of the great gods. -Rising up from the depths of Earth, Typhoeus filled heaven with fear; -in a body the gods take flight from thence until, wearied out, they -rest on Egyptian soil. But here, too, so sang the Pierides, Typhoeus -arrives, and the high gods are fain to hide themselves in illusive -shapes. Jupiter was leader of the army, and for this reason, so ran -their refrain, the Lybian Ammon to this day is figured with crooked -horns; and in like manner the scion of Semele is changed into a ram, -the sister of Phoebus into a cat, Juno into a snow-white cow, Venus is -concealed in a fish, Mercury in the feathers of Ibis. - -Here we find therefore the gods suffer reproach in their change -to animal form. Although their translation is not presented as a -punishment for a wrong or a crime, it is their cowardice which is held -forth to us as the reason of this self-imposed metamorphosis. Calliope, -on the other hand, exalts in song the good deeds and history of Ceres. -Ceres was the first, so ran the strain, to scour through the fields -with the crook-backed ploughshare; first was she to give fruits and -fruitful means of nourishment to the ploughed fields. First was she to -lay down laws for our guidance; we are collectively but a gift of her -wisdom. "Ah," she exclaims, "my task is to celebrate her, and yet how -shall I tune my strain worthy of such a goddess! Assuredly the goddess -is worthy of the singer's best." When she has finished, the Pierides -adjudge themselves victors in the contest: but even as they endeavour -to speak, and with loud cries, so Ovid informs us (v. 670), are -flourishing about with their hands, they perceive their nails passing -away into feathers, their arms become covered with down, while each is -aware that the mouth of the other is closing up into the stiff bill -of a bird: and while they are all for deploring their lot, they are -carried up on the waves of their wings, they float away, the screamers -of the woods, and as waifs of the air. And even unto this day, adds -our poet, they still retain their own glibness of tongue and excited -chatter, and infinite desire to gossip. In this way we find again also -here that metamorphosis is presented us as punishment, and, what is -more, is presented, as is so frequently the case with such stories, as -punishment due to religious impiety. - -(_β_) If we consider further examples of still well recognized -metamorphoses of men and gods into animals, we shall find that, -although they do not directly imply any transgression as the cause -of such a change, as, for example, in the case where Circe possessed -the power to change men into animals, yet, for all that, the animal -condition is at least indicative of a misfortune and a humiliation, -such as brings no honour even to the person who makes such a change -subservient to private ends. Circe was quite a subordinate, obscure -type of goddess, and her power appears as mere witchery, and Mercury -assists Odysseus, when the latter contrives to free his comrades from -the spell. Of much the same kind are the many shapes which Zeus takes -upon himself, as, for example, when he is changed into a bull in his -quest of Europa, or when he approaches Leda in the form of a swan, or -fructifies the Danae in a shower of gold. In all these cases the object -is one of deception, directed by purposes of an inferior, that is to -say, not spiritual, but purely natural quality, purposes which the -ever constant jealousy of Juno render unavoidable. The conception of a -universal procreative life of Nature, which in many of the more ancient -mythologies constituted the leading motive, is imaginatively reproduced -in separate poetical tales about the easily enamoured disposition of -the father of gods and men, exploits, however, which he does not carry -through in his own or, for the most part, in human shape, but expressly -either in the shape of animals, or some other embodiment of Nature. - -(_γ_) And, lastly, we may add to our list those hybrid forms, combining -both humanity and animalism, which are also not excluded from Greek -art, though the animality is here accepted as something that degrades, -is unspiritual. Among the Egyptians, for example, the he-goat, Mendes, -was revered[149], and, according to the opinion of Jablouski[150], in -the sense of the procreative power of Nature, generally speaking, as -that of the sun, and to such an outrageous excess that, according to -Pindar, even women sacrificed themselves to these creatures. Among the -Greeks, Pan, on the contrary, personifies the mysterious sense of the -divine presence, and later in the shape of fauns, satyrs, and Pan-like -figures, the goat shape only appeared in a subordinate way, such as -in the feet, and in the most beautiful representations was perhaps -limited to the pointed ears and little horns. The rest of the figure -is shaped in human guise, and the animal suggestion thrust back upon -the barest detail. Yet, for all that, fauns were not recognized among -the Greeks as gods of any important rank or spiritual forces; their -fundamental characteristic remained that of a sensuous, uncontrolled -joviality. It is true that they are also artistically represented with -an expression of profounder significance, as, for instance, that fine -example of one in Munich, which holds the youthful Bacchus in his arms, -and gazes down on him with a smile which is brimming over with love and -tenderness. He is not to be taken as the father of Bacchus, but merely -the foster-parent, and we find given him here the beautiful feeling of -joy in the innocence of the child, such as that which, in the maternal -devotion of Mary for the Christ babe, is exalted in romantic art to so -lofty a level of contemplation. Among the Greeks, however, this most -charming love still belongs to the subordinate sphere of fauns in order -to indicate that its origin is traceable from animal, that is natural, -life, and consequently is entitled to rank with such a sphere[151]. - -Mediate shapes of a similar kind are the centaurs, in which we may -also observe that the Nature-aspect of sensuality and desire is also -supremely prominent to the suppression of the spiritual side. Cheiron, -no doubt, is of a more noble type, a clever physician, and the tutor of -Achilles; but this instructive _rôle_, as the teacher of a child, is -not appropriate to godhead strictly, but is to be related with human -ability and cleverness. - -In this manner the relation of the animal shape receives a modification -in classical art from whatever point of view we regard it. Its -prevailing employment is to indicate that which is evil, bad, inferior, -merely natural and unspiritual, whereas, outside Greece it was the -expression of the positive and absolute. - - -2. THE CONTEST BETWEEN THE ANCIENT AND MODERN DIVINITIES - -The second grade of more elevated rank we may contrast with the -degradation of the animal condition consists in this, that the genuine -gods of classical art, inasmuch as they possess for their content a -free self-consciousness, which we may define as the power of spiritual -individuality reposing on its own resources, are also able to be -represented as subjects of knowledge and volition, that is as spiritual -potences. For this reason the _humanity_, in the bodily form of which -they are presented us, is not, as one may say, a mere form, which is -girt about this content by virtue of the imagination under a mode of -purely external validity, but is rooted in the significance, content, -and ideal substance itself. The divine, however, generally speaking, is -essentially to be apprehended us unity of the natural and spiritual; -both sides are involved in the conception of the Absolute; and it is -merely the different mode, under which this harmony is conceived, which -constitutes from our present point of view the respective grades of -the various forms of art and historic religions. According to our own -Christian way of looking at it, God is the creator and lord of Nature -and the spiritual world, and therewith, no doubt, exempted from the -immediate and determinate existence of Nature, for the reason that, -before all else, he is very God as the taking back into Himself of his -own fulness, that is as absolute and self-dependent Spirit; it is only -the finite and human spirit which stands in opposition to Nature as -a limit and a bound, a limitation which such only thereby overcomes -in his determinate existence, and exalts himself intrinsically to -the grade of infinity in so far as he grasps Nature contemplatively -in thought, and in the actual world[152] consummates the harmony -between spiritual idea, reason, the Good and Nature. This infinite -actualization is, however, God, in so far as the lordship over Nature -is strictly due to Him, and He Himself is conceived as explicit in this -infinite activity, and the knowledge and volition of such realization. - -In the religions of strictly symbolic art, on the contrary, as we -have traced already, the union of the Inward and Ideal with Nature -was an immediate association, which consequently made use of Nature -both as regards its substance and form as its fundamental mode of -determination. In this sense the sun, the Nile, the sea, the Earth, -the natural processes of birth, death, procreation, and reproduction, -in short, all the varied changes of the universal life of Nature were -revered as divine existence and life. These Nature-forces, however, -were even in symbolic art personified, and consequently set up in -contrast to the spiritual. If, however, and nothing less than this -is the requirement of classical art, the gods are to be spiritual -individualities in harmony with Nature, mere personification is a -conception insufficient for this result. For personification, in -the case that its content is a purely universal force and activity -of Nature, persists as a mere form, unable to penetrate to the -constituting substance, and can neither give existence to the spiritual -content in the same, nor its individuality. We find therefore -necessarily in classical art a change of front[153], to the effect -that, in conformity with the degradation of the animal aspect we have -just been considering, the universal power of Nature also in one aspect -of it suffers humiliation, and the spiritual is proportionally exalted -in contrast to it. And by this means we find that it is the principle -of _subjectivity_, rather than mere personification, which becomes -the main mode of definition. From another point of view, however, -the gods of classical art do not cease to be potences of Nature, -because God here has not yet come to be represented as essentially -absolute and free spirituality. In the relation of a merely created -and ministrant creature to a lord and creator separated from it, -Nature stands, however, albeit deified, either as we have it in the -art of the Sublime--conceived as an essentially abstract, that is -purely ideal masterdom of one supreme substance, or--as in the case of -Christianity--exalted as concrete Spirit to absolute freedom within the -pure element of spiritual existence and personal actuality. Neither of -these examples falls in with the point of view of classical art. God -here is not as _yet_ lord of Nature, for the reason that he does not -as yet possess absolute spirituality either if regarded relatively to -what is contained in Him, or to the mode under which He is apprehended. -He is no longer lord of Nature, because the sublime relation of the -deified natural thing and human individuality has ceased, and taken -upon itself the limitations of beauty, in which their just due must -be rendered for art's representation without any tittle of loss to -both aspects, the universal and the individual, the spiritual and the -natural. Consequently in the god of classical art the nature-potency is -preserved, but is conceived as such not in the sense of the universal -and all-embracing Nature, but as the definable, and consequently -limited activity of the sun, sea, and so on, generally speaking, as -a particular natural potency, which is made visible as spiritual -individuality, and possesses this spiritual individuality as its -essential being. - -For the reason, then, as we have already made clear, that the classical -Ideal is not immediately present, but first makes its appearance -through the process in which that which is negative to the formative -content of spirit is resolved, this transformation and building up -into new forms of that which is raw, unbeautiful, wild, grotesque, -purely natural, or fantastic, which originated in earlier religious -conceptions and views of art, will be a leading interest in Greek -mythology, and consequently will necessarily reproduce a readily -defined sphere[154] of particular significances. - -In proceeding further to examine this fundamental aspect of our present -subject I must at once give utterance to the preliminary caution that -the historic investigation of the varied and multifold conceptions of -Greek mythology lies outside our present task. All we are concerned to -inquire into here are the essential phasal steps of this process of -reconstruction, in so far as the same notify themselves as phases of -universal import in the new artistic configuration and its content. -As for that infinite mass of particular myths, narrations, histories, -things referable to a local origin and symbolism, which collectively -still assert their predominance in the world of later gods, and -incidentally appear in artistic production, but for all that do not -belong to the vital point of interest to which our own effort is -directed--we must necessarily leave all this broad field of material -on one side, and can merely refer to an example or two by way of -illustration. Speaking generally we may compare this road, on which -we now move forwards, to the course of the history of sculpture. For -inasmuch as sculpture places before the observation of sense the gods -in their real form it constitutes the peculiar _centrum_ of classical -art, albeit also the better to make it wholly understood poetry -expresses itself upon gods and mankind, or passes in review the worlds -of gods and men in their activity and movement in direct contrast to -that objectivity self-contained in repose. Just as, then, in sculpture -the moment of all importance in the beginning is the transformation of -the formless, the stone or block of wood that has fallen from heaven -(διoπετὴς)--as the the great goddess of Pessinus in Asia Minor actually -was, which the Romans directed by means of a solemn embassy to be -transferred to Rome--into the human form and so makes the statue, so -too we have here to make a beginning from the formless, uncouth powers -of Nature, and while doing so merely to indicate the stages, in their -passage through which they are exalted into spiritual individuality and -are finally concentrated in shapes of fixity. - -We may in this connection distinguish three separable aspects as of -most importance. - -The _first_, which arrests our attention, are the _oracles_ in which -the knowledge and volition of gods, still under a formless mode, gives -witness to their presence through natural existences. - -The _second_ point of view to be noted is concerned with the universal -forms of Nature, no less than the abstractions of Right and so forth, -which lie at the root of the genuine spiritual and individual deities, -which are, so to speak, their birth-cradles and furnish us with the -necessary conditions of their origin and activity: they are the old -gods in contradistinction to the new. - -_Thirdly_, and finally, we are made aware of the essentially necessary -progress to the Ideal in the fact that the primarily superficial -personifications of the activities of Nature and the most abstract -spiritual conditions are contested and thrust from their prominence -as something essentially subordinate and negative and, by virtue of -this debasement the self-sufficient spiritual individuality and its -human form and action, is suffered to attain an unchallenged masterdom. -This revolution, which constitutes the real central position in the -historical origins of the classic gods, is in Greek mythology placed -before our imagination in the conflict--a mode of presentation as naïve -as it is astonishingly direct--between the old and new gods, in the -headlong fall of the Titans, and in the victory which the divine race -of Zeus secures. - -(_a_) To take, then, first in order the _oracles_, it will not be -necessary for us now to dilate on them to any considerable extent. The -essential point which concerns us here is merely due to this fact, -that in classical art the phenomena of Nature are no longer revered -as such--in the way that the Parsees, for example, pray to naphthetic -regions or fire, or as among the Egyptians, gods remain inscrutable, -mysterious, and mute riddles--but that the gods, being themselves -subjects of knowledge and volition, do verily give to man by means -of natural phenomena indications of their wisdom. In this sense the -ancient Hellenes made inquiry at the oracle of Dodona[155], whether -they should accept the names of gods, which have come to them from -barbarians, and the oracle replied: "Use them." - -(_α_) The signs by means of which the gods thus made their revelations -are for the most part of the simplest description. At Dodona such -were the rustle and whisper of the sacred oak, the murmur of the -spring, the tones of the brazen vessel, which the wind made thus to -reverberate. In like manner at Delos it was the laurel which rustled -and at Delphi, too, the sound of the wind on the brazen tripod was full -of significance[156]. Over and above, however, such immediately natural -sounds man is also the voice-piece of the oracle in so far as he is -rendered deaf to and whirled away from the alert commonsense of his -ordinary mind to a natural condition of enthusiasm; as, for example, -the Pythia at Delphi was wont, stupefied by exhalations, to deliver -the oracular words, or in the cave of Trophonius the inquirer of the -oracle met with faces, from the interpretation of which an answer was -delivered him. - -(_β_) There is, however, another aspect which we should set alongside -of the purely external sign. For in the oracles God is, it is true, -accepted as He who _knows_, and the oracle of most famed repute is -dedicate to Apollo, the god of wisdom. The form, however, in which he -reveals his will, remains the wholly indefinite voice of Nature, either -a natural sound, that is, or the unconnected tones of words. In this -obscurity of form the spiritual content is itself equally obscure and -requires _interpretation_ and explanation. - -(_γ_) This explanation, albeit it brings under a mode of spiritual life -the deliverance of the god which in the first instance is presented -purely in the form of Nature's own voice, remains despite this fact -obscure and equivocal. For the god is in his knowledge and volition -concrete universality. And of the same type also must the advice or -command unavoidably be which the oracle declares. The universal, -however, is not one-sided and abstract, but as concrete universal -contains the one side no less than the other. Inasmuch, then, as -man stands over against the knowing god as one unknowing he accepts -the oracular word itself in ignorance. In other words, the concrete -universality of the same is not open to his intelligence, and he can -merely select from the equivocal word of the god, assuming that he -decides to act upon it, _one_ aspect thereof, for the reason that -every action under particular circumstances is unavoidably _definite_, -only, that is to say, giving a decisive impulse in _one_ direction -and shutting off another. His action is barely accomplished, and the -deed--which consequently has become his own and for which he must -now be answerable--really carried through when he finds a collision -confronting him. All in a moment he is aware that the other side, which -lay already folded in the oracular sentence, is turned against himself -and the fatality of his deed, his knowledge and will notwithstanding, -has him in the toils; a fatality which he may not know, but of which -we must suppose the gods are aware. Conversely again the gods are -determinate potencies and their expressed will, when it carries this -character of essential determinacy, as, for example, the bidding of -Apollo, which drives Orestes forward to his revenge, brings about a -collision of forces in the selfsame way. For the reason, then, that in -one aspect of it the form, which the spiritual knowledge of the god -assumes in the oracle, is the wholly undefined external expression -or the abstract ideality of the word, and the form itself through -the equivocal sense it contains includes the possibility of discord, -we find that in classical art it is not sculpture, but poetry, and -pre-eminently dramatic poetry, in which oracles contribute their share -of the content and are of importance. In _classical_ art, however, they -do essentially maintain a place, because in it human individuality has -not forced its way to the full height of spiritual attainment, where -the subject draws the determination of his actions without infringement -from his own resources. What we in our modern sense of the term call -conscience, has not as here secured its rightful place. The Greek acts -often, it is true, at the beck of his passion, bad no less than good; -the genuine pathos, however, which is here held to quicken him, and -does in fact so quicken him, proceeds from the gods, whose content -and might is the universal of such a pathos; and the heroes are either -immediately instinct with the same, or they interrogate oracles for -advice, when the gods do not present themselves openly to their vision, -by way of quickening the deed to be done. - -(_b_) Moreover, as in the oracle the _content_ is to be found in -the gods that _know_ and _willy_ while the form of the external -phenomenon is the external which is abstract and a part of _Nature_, -from the other point of view that which is _natural_, if we look at -it relatively to its universal forces and the activities which belong -to these, becomes the _content_, from out of which the independent -individuality has first to force its way up, and receives as its -original form merely the formal and superficial personification. The -thrusting back of these purely natural forces, the opposition and -contention through which they are overcome is just the significant -centre, for which we are indebted primarily to classical art, and which -we must consequently submit to a closer examination. - -(_α_) The first thing we would remark in this connection is -attributable to the circumstance that we are not here concerned--as in -that view of the world which belongs to the Sublime, or in part even -that appropriate to Hindoo doctrines--with God already essentially -devoid of any relation to sense, when regarded as the starting point of -all creation, but rather with that in which Nature's gods, and we may -add in the first instance the more universal forces of Nature such as -Chaos, Tartarus, Erebus, the entire savage and subterranean substance, -and, furthermore, Uranos, Gaia, the Titan Eros, Kronos, and the rest, -supply the beginning[157]. It is from out of these, then, that the -better defined powers, such as Helios, Oceanos, and others like them -first have their being; while they, in their turn, become the natural -cradle for the later spiritual and individualized divinities. We find, -therefore, again here another theogony and cosmogony which is the work -of the imagination, whose earliest gods, however, still remain for the -observer under one aspect of an undefined character, or vaguely extend -beyond all reasonable limit; and, if viewed from another standpoint, -still carry with them much that is essentially symbolical. - -(_β_) The more detailed distinctions among these Titan potencies may be -thus indicated: - -(_αα_) First, we have those powers of the Earth and the stars, without -spiritual and ethical content, consequently dissolute, a raw, savage -race, gigantic and formless, as though they were scions of Hindoo or -Egyptian imagination. They are to be classed with other individualities -of Nature such as Brontes, Steropes, and again with the hundred-handed -Kottos, Briareus, and Gyges, the giants and the rest standing in the -first instance beneath the lordship of Uranos, then of Kronos, that -chief of the Titans, who obviously is a kind of personified _Time_, -devouring all his children, just as Time eventually annihilates -everything that it has brought to birth. This myth is not without a -symbolical significance. For the life of Nature is, in fact, subjugate -to Time, and brings only the Past into existence, just as in the same -way the prehistoric times of some people, which is only one nation, -one stock, yet constitutes no genuine State, and pursues no definite -objects essentially made clear to itself, becomes the sport of the -power of a Time, which is destitute of history. We touch solid ground -for the first time when we come to law, morality, and the State, -something permanent which remains though races pass away, as it is said -that the Muses give permanence and a defence to everything, which, as -the life of Nature and present action, had only vanished swept away -with Time. - -(_ββ_) But, further, it is not only that the forces of Nature belong -to this sphere of the old gods, but also the forces noted as earliest -over the elements. In particular the first active agency upon metal -through the force of what is still raw, and elementary Nature, that -is air, water, fire, is of importance. We may mention in illustration -the Corybantes, the Telchines, demons of both beneficent and evil -influence, the Pataeci, pygmies, dwarfs, cunning in the woodman's -craft, small, with big paunches.[158] - -More prominent notice should be taken of Prometheus, as illustrating -in the chief place a fundamental point of new departure. Prometheus -is a Titan of exceptional type and deserves exceptional attention. -Together with his brother Epimetheus he appears in the first instance -as favourable to the young gods; then he stands out as the benefactor -of men, who in other respects have no defined relation with the new -gods or the Titans. He brings fire to man, and thereby supplies them -with the means of satisfying their needs and working the technical -arts, which are no longer, however, regarded as natural products, and -consequently it would appear do not stand in any closer association -with Titan workmanship. For this interference Zeus punishes Prometheus -until Hercules finally releases him from suffering. At the first -glance there would appear to be nothing strictly Titanesque in these -main features of the story; nay, it would not be difficult to point -out an inconsequence in the fact that Prometheus, just as Ceres, is -a benefactor of mankind, and is none the less numbered among the old -Titanic potencies. If we look at the matter more closely, however, -this inconsequence will at once disappear. In this connection several -passages from Plato's works will help us sufficiently to clear the -difficulty. There is the myth in which the guest-friend recites to -the younger Socrates that in the time of Kronos men originated from -the Earth, while the god, on his part, devoted his attention to the -whole[159]. After this step a movement of opposite tendency sprang up, -and the Earth was left to itself[160], so that now the beasts became -savage, and mankind, whose means of nourishment and all their other -needs had hitherto passed immediately into their hands, were left alone -without advice or assistance. Well, according to this myth, it was in -such a condition[161] that fire was brought to mankind by Prometheus, -all other accessories of craftsmanship being communicated by Hephaestos -and his companion in craftsmanship, Athene. - -Here we have notified expressly a distinction between fire and the -thing which artistic ability produces by working on the raw material; -and only the gift of fire is ascribed to Prometheus. Plato narrates -the myth of Prometheus at greater length in the "Protagoras." There we -read[162]: "There was once a time when gods indeed existed, but mortal -beings had not appeared. When the foreordained time of their birth -also had come, the gods created them in the inward parts of the Earth, -composing their substance of Earth and fire and that which is the union -of both these elements. When the gods were desirous of bringing them -into the light, they handed them over to Prometheus and Epimetheus -to apportion and arrange the energies of each singly as was right. -Epimetheus, however, requested of Prometheus that the apportionment -might be left to him. After I have done this, quoth he, you may mark -and express an opinion. Epimetheus, however, by a blunder apportioned -everything worth having to the animal world, so that there was nothing -left over for mankind; and when Prometheus made his inspection he found -that though all other living things were wisely provided with all their -needs mankind remained naked, unprotected, without covering or weapons. -But already the appointed day had appeared in which it was necessary -that man should pass from the bowels of the Earth into the light. In -the embarrassment in which he was placed to procure some assistance -for mankind Prometheus stole the wisdom that is shared by Hephaestos -and Athene by taking fire--for without fire it would be impossible to -possess it or make it of use--and made a present of this to men. Man -now, it is true, possessed the wisdom necessary for the support of his -life, but he was still _without political wisdom_, for this was still -lodged with Zeus. Entry, however, to the stronghold of Zeus was no -longer permitted Prometheus, and apart from this the awful watchers -of Zeus barred the way. He passed, however, secretly into the chamber -which Hephaestos and Athene shared in the practice of their art, and -having secured the forging-art of Hephaestos he pilfered that other art -(the art of weaving) which was possessed by Athene and presented this -to mankind. Out of these possessions the means of satisfying the needs -of Life is provided for man (ἐυπoρία τoῦ βίoυ)." Prometheus receives, -however, as already narrated, punishment for the thefts he commits -owing to the blunders of Epimetheus. - -Plato further tells us in a passage which immediately follows the -above that mankind was still destitute of the art of war for their -protection against the animal world, which was merely a part of the -art of politics, and consequently were collected into cities, and would -have so outraged each other and finally broken up such asylums for the -reason that they were without all political organization, that Zeus -found it necessary to send down to them under the escort of Hermes -Shame and Right. - -In these passages the distinction between the immediate objects of -life, which are related to physical comfort, that is, the provision -for the satisfaction of the most primary necessaries and political -organization, such as sets before itself as its object what is -spiritual, custom, law, right of property, freedom, and communal -existence is expressly emphasized. This principle of ethical life and -right[163], Prometheus did not give to men, he merely taught them the -cunning by means of which they might overcome natural objects and make -them serviceable to their needs. Fire and the craftsmanship which makes -use of fire have nothing ethical about them in themselves; and it is -just the same with the art of weaving; in the first instance they are -devoted to the exclusive service of private individuals, without coming -into any relation with that which is shared in human existence or with -Life in its public character. For the reason, then, that Prometheus was -unable to furnish mankind with anything more spiritual or ethical, he -also does not belong to the race of new gods, but to the Titans[164]. -Hephaestos, it is true, also possessed fire and the particular crafts -to which it is essential as an instrument for his field of activity, -and is none the less accredited as a new god: but Zeus cast him from -Olympus, and he continued to limp ever after. Just as little is it, -therefore, an inconsequence when we find Ceres placed among the younger -gods, who proved herself a benefactor of mankind just as Prometheus -did. For that which Ceres taught was agriculture, with which at the -same time property, and yet more, marriage, social custom, and law -stand in close association. - -(_γγ_) A third class of the ancient gods contains, it is true, neither -personified potencies of Nature, as such, nor the might which next -follows as lord over the particular elements of Nature in the service -of the more subordinate human necessities, but is already contestant -with that which is essentially in itself ideal, universal, and -spiritual. What, however, is none the less lacking in the powers we -have here to reckon with is spiritual individuality and its appropriate -form and manifestation, so that they also more or less relatively to -their operations keep a position which is more nearly akin to the -necessity and essential being of Nature. In illustration of this type -we may recall the conception of Nemesis, Dike, the Erinnyes, Eumenides, -and Moirai. No doubt we find associated with these figures the -determinate notions of right and justice; but this inevitable right, -instead of being conceived and clothed in the essentially spiritual and -substantive medium of social morality[165], remains either persistent -in the universal abstract notion, or is related to the obscure right of -that which is natural within the circle of spiritual connections, the -love of kindred, for example, and its paramount claim, which does not -appertain to Spirit in the open freedom of itself self-recognized; and -consequently also does not appear as lawful right, but in opposition to -this as the irreconcilable right of revenge. - -To bring the view of the above nearer I will merely draw attention to -one or two ideas bound up with it. Nemesis, for example, is the might -to humiliate the exalted, and to cast down the man all too fortunate -from his lofty seat, and consequently to restore equilibrium. The -claim or right of equilibrium is the purely abstract and external -right, which, it is true, certifies itself as operative in the range of -spiritual circumstances, and conditions, without, however, making the -ethical organization of the same the content of justice. Another aspect -of importance attaches to this circumstance, that the right of the -family-condition is apportioned by the ancient gods, in so far as these -repose on a condition of Nature, and thereby are in antagonism with the -public right and law of the community. We may adduce the Eumenides -of Aeschylus as the clearest illustration of this point. The direful -maidens pursue Orestes on account of the murder of his mother, a murder -which Apollo, the younger god, had directed, in order that Agamemnon, -the slaughtered spouse and king, should not remain unavenged. The -entire drama consequently is concentrated in a conflict between these -divine Powers, which confront each other in person. On the one side -we have the goddesses of revenge, the Eumenides; but they are called -here the beneficent, and our ordinary conception of the Furies, into -which we convert them, is set before us as rude and uncouth. For they -possess an essential right thus to persecute, and are therefore not -merely hateful, wild, and ferocious in the torments which they impose. -The right, however, which they enforce as against Orestes is only the -family-right in so far as this is rooted in the blood relation. The -profoundest association of son and mother is the substantive fact -which they represent. Apollo opposes to this natural ethical relation, -rooted as it is already both on the physical side and in feeling, the -right of the spouse and the chieftain who has been violated in respect -to the highest right he can claim. This distinction is in the first -instance brought to our notice in an external way since both parties -are champions for morality within one and the same sphere, namely -the family. The sterling[166] imagination of Aeschylus has, however, -here--and we cannot sufficiently value it on this score--discovered for -us a contradiction, which is not by any means a superficial one, but -of fundamental significance. That is to say, the relation of children -to parents reposes on the unity of the natural nexus; the association -of man and wife on the contrary must be accepted as marriage, which -does not merely proceed from purely natural love, that is from -the blood or natural affinity, but originates out of a conscious -inclination, and for this reason belongs to the free ethical sphere of -the self-conscious will. However much, therefore, marriage is bound -up with love and feeling it is none the less to be distinguished from -the purely natural emotion of love, because it also freely recognizes -definite obligations quite independent of the same, which persist when -that feeling of love may have ceased. The notion, in short, and the -knowledge of the substantiality of marital life is something later -and more profound than the purely natural connection between mother -and son, and constitutes the beginning of the State as the realization -of the free and rational will. In like manner we shall find resident -in the relation of prince to citizen the association of a similar -political right, law, and the self-conscious freedom and spirituality -of similar social aims. This is the reason why the Eumenides, the -ancient goddesses, pursue Orestes with punishment, whereas Apollo--the -clear, knowing and self-consciously knowing ethical sense--defends the -right of the spouse and the chief, justly opposing the Eumenides: "If -the crime of Clytemnestra were not scented out I should be in verity -without honour and despised as nought by the consummator Here and the -Councils of Zeus[167]." - -Of still greater interest, albeit wholly involved in human feeling -and action, is the contradiction which we have set before us in -the "Antigone," one of the most sublime, and in every respect most -consummate work of art human effort ever produced. Not a detail in -this tragedy but is of consequence. The public law of the State and -the instinctive family-love and duty towards a brother are here set -in conflict. Antigone, the woman, is pathetically possessed by the -interest of family; Kreon, the man, by the welfare of the community. -Polynices, in war with his own father-city, had fallen before the -gates of Thebes, and Kreon, the lord thereof, had by means of a public -proclamation threatened everyone with death who should give this enemy -of the city the right of burial. Antigone, however, refused to accept -this command, which merely concerned the public weal, and, constrained -by her pious devotion for her brother, carried out as sister the sacred -duty of interment. In doing this she relied on the law of the gods. -The gods, however, whom she thus revered, are the _Dei inferi_ of -Hades[168], the instinctive Powers of feeling, Love and kinship, not -the daylight gods of free and self-conscious, social, and political -life. - -(_γ_) The _third_ point, which we would advert to in connection with -the theogony of the outlook of artists in the classic period, has -reference to the difference between individuals of the older gods -relatively to their powers and the duration of their authority. - -(_αα_) In the first place, the origin of these gods is a succession. -From Chaos, according to Hesiod, proceeds Gaia, Uranos, and others, -after that Kronos and his race, finally Zeus and his subjects. This -succession appears in one aspect of it as a rise from the more abstract -and formless to the more concrete and already fairly defined powers -of Nature; in another as the beginnings of the superiority of the -spiritual over the natural. Thus in his "Eumenides" Aeschylus makes the -Pythia in the temple of Delphi begin with the words: "First of all I -revere in my prayer her who first gave us oracles, Gaia, and after her -Themis, who as second after her mother had her prophetic seat in this -place." Pausanias, on the other hand, who also names the Earth first as -giver of oracles, says that Daphne was ordained by her afterwards in -the prophetic office. In another series again Pindar places Night in -the first place, after her he makes Themis follow, then comes Phoebe, -and finally he closes the succession with Phoebus. It would be of -interest to analyse more closely these particular differences; such an -inquiry, however, lies outside our present purpose. - -(_ββ_) This succession further, in addition to its aspect of being -an extension into essentially profounder conceptions of godhead, -possessing, that is, a fuller content, also appears as the degradation -of the earlier and more abstract type within the range of the older -race of gods itself. The primary and most ancient powers are robbed of -their masterdom, just as we find Kronos dethroned Uranos, and the later -representatives are set up in their place. - -(_γγ_) In this way the negative relation of the reformation[169], -which we settled at once to be the essence of this first stage of the -classic type of art, becomes the proper centre of the same. And it is -so for the reason that personification is here the universal form, in -which the gods are presented to the imagination, and the progressive -movement comes into opposition with human and spiritual individuality. -And although this appears in the first instance still in a form -indeterminate and formless, we necessarily find that the imagination -presents this negative attitude of the younger gods against the more -ancient under the image of conflict and war. The essential advance is, -however, from Nature to Spirit, implying by the latter the true content -and the real form appropriate to classical art. This progress and the -conflicts by means of which we perceive that it is carried forward, -belong no longer exclusively to the sphere of the old gods, but centre -in the war through which the new gods lay the foundation of their -enduring mastery over the ancient. - -(_c_) The opposition between Nature and Spirit is in the nature of the -case inevitable. For the notion of Spirit, as in very truth totality, -is, as we have already seen, _essentially_ simply this, to split itself -in twain, that is into its intrinsic constituents as objectivity and as -subject, in order that by means of this opposition it may emerge from -Nature and confront the same forthwith free and jubilant as vanquisher -and superior might. This fundamental phase, rooted in the very essence -of Spirit, is consequently a material aspect in the conception which -it supplies to itself of that nature. Regarded historically, that is -on the plane of ordinary reality, this passage asserts itself as the -reconstruction through progressive steps of the natural man into the -condition where right, property, laws, constitution and political life -are paramount. Regarded under a mode which relates this process to gods -and _sub specie eternitatis_ it becomes the conception of the victory -over the natural Powers by means of the spiritual and individual -Divinities. - -(_α_) This contest exposes an absolute catastrophe, and is the -essential deed of the gods, by virtue of which the fundamental -distinction between the old and new gods is first made visible. -Consequently we ought not to point to the war, which exposes this -distinction as a mythical story in the same way we should point to any -other myth; rather we should regard it as the mythos, which in fact -punctuates a great moment of transition, and expresses the creation of -the later theogony. - -(_β_) The result of this violent strife among the gods is the ruin of -the Titans, the unique victory of the new gods, who forthwith receive -in their assured dominion a plenitude of gifts in every direction from -the imagination. The Titans, on the other hand, are banished, and -compelled to huddle in the hollows of the Earth, or, like Oceanos, -dally on the dark skirts of the clear, joyful world, or still endure -many grievous punishments. Prometheus, for example, is fettered on -the Scythian mountains, where an eagle insatiable devours the liver -that ever renews itself. In like manner an infinite and inexhaustible -thirst torments Tantalus in the lower world, and Sisyphus is for ever -constrained to roll up hill in vain the rock that for ever rolls back -again. These punishments are, in truth, the false type of infinity, -the yearning of the indefinite aspiration or the unsatisfied craving -of natural desires, which in their eternal repetition fail to discover -rest or final satisfaction. For the truly godlike intuition of the -Greeks regarded the mere extension into space and the region of the -indefinite, not, as some modern votaries of such longings do, as the -highest attainment of mankind, but as a damnation which it relegates to -Tartarus. - -(_γ_) If we ask ourselves in a general way, what from this point must -for classical art fall into the background, failing, that is, to have -any right to figure as its final form and adequate content, we shall -find at the earliest point of departure the elements of Nature. With -them disappear from the world of the new gods all that is gloomy[170], -fantastical, void of clarity, every wild confusion between Nature -and Spirit, between significances essentially substantive and the -accidental incidents of externality. In a world such as this the -creations of an unrestricted imagination, which has not yet for its -principle the measure of spiritual proportion, have no place, and -are compelled and justly so to vanish before the clear light of day. -We may furbish up the monstrous Cabeiri[171], the Corybantes, these -representatives of procreative force as much as we choose, yet for -all that such presentations in every trait of them--to say nothing -of the ancient Baubo, whom Goethe sets careering over the Blocksberg -on an old sow--belong to a greater or less degree to the twilight of -consciousness. Only that which is spiritual imperatively demands the -light; and that which does not reveal itself and in itself expound its -own interpretation is the unspiritual, which fades again once more into -Night and obscurity. That which is of Spirit on the contrary reveals -itself, and purifies itself, by itself defining its external form, from -the caprice of the imagination, the flood of obstructing shapes, and -the otherwise perturbed accessories of symbolical sense. - -For the same reasons we now find that human activity, in so far as it -is limited merely to Nature's wants and their satisfaction, falls into -the background. That old right, Themis, Dike and the rest, as one not -determinate through laws which originate in self-conscious Spirit, -loses its unimpaired validity, and in the same way, if conversely, that -which is purely local, albeit there is still room left for its play, -passes by incorporation into the universal figures of the gods; in -which we may still trace the lingering vestiges that remain of it. For -as in the Trojan war the Greeks fought and conquered as _one_ people, -so, too, the Homeric gods, who already have their conflict with the -Titans behind them in the past, are one essentially secure and defined -god-world, a world which is yet further with ever-increasing fulness -made definite and unassailable by later poetry and the plastic arts. -This invincible consistency[172] is in its relation to the content of -the Greek world of gods Spirit and only Spirit; but not Spirit in its -abstract ideality, but as identified with its external and adequate -existence, just as with Plato soul and body, as in union brought into -one nature and in this consolidation from one piece, is at once the -Divine and Eternal. - - -3. THE POSITIVE CONSERVATION OF THE CONDITIONS SET UP THROUGH NEGATION - -Despite, then, the victory of the new gods that which came before them -still remains in the classical type of art partly preserved and revered -in the original form in which we have already recognized it, partly -under a transmuted mode. It is only the limited Jewish national god -which is unable to tolerate other gods in its company for the reason -that it purports as _the_ one god to include everything, although -in regard to the definition of its form it fails to pass beyond its -exclusiveness wherein the god is merely the God of His own people. Such -a god manifests his universality in fact only through his creation -of Nature and as Lord of the heavens and the earth. For the rest he -remains the god of Abraham, who led his people Israel out of Egypt, -gave them laws on Sinai, and divided the land of Canaan among the Jews. -And through this narrow identification of him with the Jewish nation -he is in a quite peculiar way the god of this folk; and consequently, -speaking generally, neither stands in positive consonance with -Nature, nor appears truly as absolute Spirit referable back from his -determinate character and objectivity to his universality. Consequently -this austere, national god is so jealous, and ordains in his jealousy -that men shall see elsewhere merely false idols. The Greeks, on the -contrary, discovered their gods among other nations and accepted -what was foreign among themselves. For the god of classical art has -spiritual and bodily individuality and is for this reason not the one -and only one, but merely a _particular_ godhead, which, as everything -else that shares particularity, has a circle of particularity which -surrounds it or in opposition to it as its Other, from which it is the -result, and which is qualified to preserve its validity and worth. -The process here is analogous to that of the particular divisions of -Nature. Although the world of vegetation is the truth of the geological -image of Nature, the animal again the higher truth of the vegetable, -yet the mountains and the flooded land persist as the solid basis of -trees, shrubs, and flowers, which in their turn do not lose their -existence alongside the world of animals. - -(_a_) The earliest form under which among the Greeks we come upon -this ancient residue, are the _Mysteries._ The Greek Mysteries were -nothing secret in the sense that the Greek nation was not in a general -way aware of their content. On the contrary, the majority of the -Athenians and a large number of foreigners were among the initiated -in the Eleusinian mysteries; but they were not permitted to speak of -that in which they had been instructed through initiation. In our -own times people have been at great pains to discover more nearly -the type of conceptions which prevailed in these mysteries, and to -investigate the kind of religious services which were used in their -celebration. It appears, however, that on the whole there was no -extensive wisdom or profound knowledge concealed in the Mysteries. They -merely preserved the old traditions, the basis, that is, of what was -latterly reconstructed by the genuine type of art, and consequently, -so far from containing the true, higher, and more valuable content, -rather unfolded that which was of less significance and of inferior -rank. Whatever it was, this holiness was not clearly expressed in the -mysteries, but merely handed down in its symbolical features. And in -fact this character of secrecy and reticence is bound up with the old -telluric, sidereal, and Titanic deposit; Spirit alone is the revealed -and the self-revealer. Consonant, too, with this it is the symbolical -mode of expression which constitutes the other aspect of secrecy -in the mysteries, because in symbolism the interpretation remains -obscure, and contains a something other than the external image, which -it purports to display, in fact offers to the view. In this sense, -for example, the mysteries of Demeter and Bacchus were, it is true, -spiritually interpreted, and contained a profounder sense. The form of -the same remained quite externally isolate from this content, so that -it was impossible clearly to disengage it from it. Consequently the -Mysteries had very little influence over art; for though we are told -of Aeschylus, that he willfully betrayed something which attached to -the Demeter mysteries, this merely amounts to an assertion on his part -that Artemis had been the daughter of Ceres, which is not very profound -wisdom after all. - -(_b_) But, _secondly_, we find that the reverence and preservation -of the old _régime_ is yet more clearly indicated in actual artistic -representation. We have already referred to Prometheus as the -chastised Titan who appears in the stage immediately prior to that -of genuine art. We meet with him however again as delivered. For as -the Earth and as the Sun, so also the fire, which Prometheus brought -down to men, that is, the eating of flesh, which he taught them, is -an essential feature of human life, a necessary condition for the -satisfaction of their needs; and consequently Prometheus is honoured -with an enduring recognition[173]. In the Oedipus Colonos of Sophocles -we have the words: - -/$ - χῶρoς μὲν ἱερὸς πᾶς ὅδ ἔστ· ἔχει δέ νιν - σεμνὸς Πoσειδῶν· ἐν δ' ὁ πoρφόρoς θeὸς - Tιτὰν Πρoμηθὲυς[174] -$/ - -and the scholiast adds that Prometheus was revered in the Academy along -with Athene, as Hephaestos was, and a temple was shown in a grove of -the goddess, and an ancient pedestal near the entrance, where there -was not only an image of Hephaestos, but also one of Prometheus. -Prometheus, however, according to the statement of Lysimachides, was -represented as primary and more ancient, and he held in his hand a -sceptre; Hephaestos as the younger and in the second place, and the -altar on the pedestal was shared by both. Prometheus, then, according -to the tale, was not obliged to endure his chastisement for ever, -but was released from his fetters by Hercules. In this story of his -liberation we come across certain remarkable traits. In other words, -Prometheus is delivered from his agony because he informs Zeus of -the danger which threatens his empire at the hands of the thirteenth -descendant. This descendant is Hercules, to whom, we may add in -illustration, Poseidon exclaims in the "Birds" of Aristophanes[175], -"he will do himself an injury, if he strike a bargain with reference -to the transference of the divine headship, for all that Zeus leaves -behind him on his decease will most assuredly take place." And, in -fact, Hercules is the only man who passed over into Olympus, became a -god after being a man, and stands higher than Prometheus, who remained -a Titan. Moreover, the overturning of the old race of tyrants is -intimately connected with the name of Hercules and the Heraklidae. The -Heraklidae break up the power of the old dynasties and royal houses, -in which we may remark the selfish desire of personal aggrandizement -and lawlessness no less than disregard for their subjects admitted no -judicial restraint, and consequently was responsible for the grossest -cruelties. Hercules, though himself in the service of a superior lord, -overcame the savagery of this despotism. - -In a similar way we may, to linger once more for a moment by the -illustrations we adduced on a former page, recall again to our readers -the "Eumenides" of Aeschylus. The conflict between Apollo and the -Eumenides is to be settled by the intervention of the Areopagus. In -other words, a human tribunal, as a whole, at whose head stands Athene, -stands forth as the concrete spirit of the folk, and is as such to -terminate the collision. The judges, however, give an equal number of -votes for condemnation and acquittal, having an equal reverence both -for the Eumenides and Apollo; the white pebble of Athene, however, -decides the conflict in favour of Apollo. The Eumenides break out in -indignation against this decision of Athene; she, however, allays -their wrath by promising them worship and altars in the famous grove -of Colonos. What the Eumenides have to give in return to her people -is a protection against the evils[176] which result from the elements -of _Nature_, the earth, the heavens, the sea, and the winds; they -have further to ward off unfruitfulness in the fields, the failure of -living seed, and misbirths in all else that is procreated. Pallas, on -her part, takes beneath her protection the strife of wars and sacred -contests. Ina similar way Sophocles[177], in his "Antigone," not only -makes Antigone suffer and die, but to a like extent we find that Kreon -is punished by the loss of his wife and the death of Haemon, both of -whom perish through the death of Antigone. - -(_c_) _Thirdly_, the ancient gods do not merely preserve their place -in juxtaposition to the new, but, what is of more importance, the -natural basis itself is maintained by the new gods, and receives, -continuing to made its echo sound in them, if in conformity with the -spiritual individuality of classical art, a reverential acceptance. - -(_α_) And for this reason people are not unfrequently led into the -error of conceiving the Greek gods, in respect to their human character -and form, as mere _allegories_ of such natural elements. This is not -so. In this sense we frequently hear it stated that Helios is the -god of the sun, Diana the goddess of the moon, or Neptune the god of -the sea. Such a separation, however, between the natural element, as -content, and the humanly shaped personification, as form, no less than -the external association of both, regarded merely as the masterdom of -the god over the natural fact, as we are accustomed to it in the Old -Testament, is quite inapplicable to Greek conceptions. We never find -among the Greeks such an expression as ὁ θεὸς τoῦ ἡλίoυ, τῆς θαλάσσης, -and so forth, though it is quite certain they would have used with -others such an expression for the relation in question, had it been -compatible with their point of view. Helios is the sun as god. - -(_β_) We must, however, at once insist on the further fact that the -Greeks never regarded mere Nature as itself divine. On the contrary, -they retained the definite conception that what was purely natural -was not divine. This is partly contained, if unexpressed, in what -their gods actually are, in part also it is expressly stated so by -themselves. Plutarch, for example, in his essay upon Isis and Osiris, -refers incidentally to the modes of interpretation current of myths -and divinities. Osiris and Isis belong to the Egyptian theogony, and -had yet more of the natural element for their content than the Greek -gods, who correspond to them; they merely express the longing and -conflict to escape out of the circle of Nature to that of Spirit. In -later times they were very highly honoured in Rome, and the mysteries -allied with them were of great importance. Yet for all that it is -Plutarch's view that it would be an interpretation beneath the level -of the subject to think of explaining them as sun, earth, or water. -Only that which in the sun, Earth, and so forth, is without measure or -co-ordination, defective or superfluous, can strictly be referred to -the natural elements, and all that is good and conformable to order is -as exclusively a work of Isis, and the rational principle, the λόγoς, -a work of Osiris. It is not, therefore, the natural as such which is -adduced as the substantive content of these gods, but the spiritual -principle, the universal, λόγoς, reason, conformity to law. - -By virtue of this insight into the spiritual nature of the gods, the -more definite elements of Nature, then, had also among the Greeks -been differentiated from the later gods. We have, it is true, grown -accustomed to associate Helios and Selene, to take two examples, with -Apollo and Diana: in Homer, however, they are presented as distinct. -The same remark applies to Oceanos and others. - -(_γ_) But in the _third_ place an echo still lingers in the new gods -of the natural powers, whose operative energies themselves belong to -the spiritual individuality of the gods. We have already indicated, -at an earlier stage, the basis of this positive connection of the -spiritual and natural in the ideal of classical art, and may limit our -observations here to a few illustrations. - -(_αα_) In Poseidon resides, as in Pontus and Oceanus, the might of -the world-encircling sea, but his power and activity extends further. -He built Ilium and was a shield of Athens. Generally he is revered -as the founder of cities, in so far as the sea is the element of -sea-faring, of commerce, and a bond between mankind. Apollo, in like -manner, is the light of knowledge, of oracular speech, and preserves, -moreover, a distant relation with Helios, as the natural light of the -sun. Critics differ, no doubt--take Voss and Creuzer for examples--as -to whether Apollo is referable to the sun. One may, however, in fact, -assert that he both is and is not the sun, since he is not limited to -its natural content, but is raised thereby to the significance of a -spiritual import. It is impossible to escape the inevitable connection -in which knowledge and light, the light of Nature and that of Spirit, -if we regard their fundamental characteristics, stand relatively to -one another. Light regarded as a element of Nature is that which -manifests. Without our seeing Light itself it makes visible to us the -illuminated objects around. By means of Light everything grows on -the plane of contemplation for something else. Spirit, that is the -free light of consciousness, knowledge, and cognition, possesses just -the same character of manifestation. The distinction, apart from the -differences of the respective spheres, in which these two modes of -manifestation reveal themselves, consists simply in this, that Spirit -reveals itself, and in that which it brings us, or which it assimilates -as content[178], remains constant to itself. Light, however, does not -make itself apprehensible to itself, but, on the contrary, makes that -which is other and external to itself apprehensible; and though, no -doubt, we may say this is done from its own resources, yet it cannot, -as the Spirit can, once more retire into itself. For this reason it -does not win the higher unity which finds itself constant by itself in -another. Just as, then, light and knowledge are closely associated, we -find in Apollo, as spiritual god, still a recollection of the light of -the sun. For this reason Homer, for example, ascribes the plague in -the camp of the Greeks to Apollo, which, in such a locality is in the -summer solstice ascribable to the operation of the sun. We may add that -his deadly arrows have unquestionably a symbolical reference to the -solar rays. In the external representation it is external signs which -more closely determine under what specific interpretation the god shall -be mainly accepted. - -More particularly when we follow up the origins of the later gods -we are able to recognize the natural element, which the gods of the -classic ideal retain in themselves. This is a point which Creuzer in -particular has made clear. For example, in the conception of Jupiter -there are many features which indicate a solar source. The twelve -labours of Hercules, the expedition, for example, in which he carries -off the apples of the Hesperides, have relation both to the sun and -the twelve months. At the root of the conception of Diana we have the -distinct suggestion of the mother of Nature, just as the Ephesian -Diana, for example, which floats between the old world and the new, -has for her fundamental content Nature generally, procreation and -nutrition; which latter feature is clearly indicated in a part of her -external form, namely the breasts. If we consider the Greek Artemis, on -the other hand, the huntress, who slays wild animals, we find that in -her humanly beautiful and maiden form and self-continency, this aspect -falls entirely into the background, although the half moon and the -arrows still distinctly recall to us Selene. To take Aphrodite in the -same way, the more we follow her back to her original source in Asia -the more she approaches a force of Nature. Once arrived in Greece, the -spiritual and more individual aspect of her grace, charm, and love, -passion is more emphasized, albeit here, too, the natural basis is by -no means entirely absent. In the same way the productivity of Nature -is, no doubt, the original cradle which gives us Ceres. Starting from -that we proceed to the spiritual content, whose relations are developed -from agriculture, property, etc. The source in Nature of the Muses -is the murmur of the spring-water; and Zeus himself may be accepted -under one aspect as the universal Power of Nature, and is revered as -the Thunderer, as with Homer already thunder is the sign of misfortune -or assistance, is, in short, an omen, and as such is relative to that -which is human and spiritual. Juno, too, implies a natural association -with the firmament of cloud and the heavenly sphere in which the gods -move to and fro. So we are told, for example, that Zeus laid Hercules -on the breast of Juno, and from the milk which spouted thereout flashed -into being the Milky Way. - -(_ββ_) Just as, then, in the later gods, from one point of view the -universal elements of Nature are dethroned, while from another they are -maintained, we have the same process repeated in that which is, more -strictly speaking, animal, which we merely regarded in a former passage -on the side of its degradation. We are now able to point out a more -positive aspect under which such may be considered. Since, however, -in the classic gods the symbolic mode of configuration is abolished, -and they secure as their content the spirit that is self-luminous, -the symbolical _significance_ of animals must tend to pass away -precisely in proportion as the animal form has taken to itself the -right to mingle with the human under a mode naturally alien to it. -It will therefore appear merely as a significant attribute, and is -established in juxtaposition to the human form of the gods. Thus we -find the eagle as attendant on Jupiter, the peacock on Juno, the doves -as accompanying Aphrodite, the hound, Anubis, as watch-dog of the -lower world, and so forth. If, therefore, there is still a symbolical -aspect which attaches to the ideals of the spiritual gods, yet, if -contrasted with the original significance, it will appear of little -importance; and the natural significance, if strictly regarded, which -previously constituted the essential content, will merely persist as -a residue, and mere particular mode of externality, which, on account -of its accidental character, more often than not has a grotesque -appearance, for the reason that the former significance is no longer -there. Inasmuch as the ideal content of these gods is that which -partakes of Spirit and humanity, the externality pertinent to them -approximates to a _human_ contingency and weakness. In this connection -we may once more recall to memory the numerous love affairs of Zeus. -According to their original symbolic significance, they are related, as -we already have seen, to the universal activity of generation, that is, -the vitality of Nature. As the love affairs of Zeus, however, which, -in so far as his marriage with Here is to be regarded as the permanent -and substantive sexual relation, appear in the light of an infidelity -towards his spouse, they have the complexion of accidental adventures, -and exchange their symbolical sense for unconnected tales which possess -the character of purely capricious invention. - -With this degradation of the powers which are purely natural and of the -animal aspect no less than of the abstract universality of spiritual -relations, and with the re-acceptance of the same within the spiritual -individuality, permeated and Suffused as it is with Nature, we leave -behind us the origins of classical art which are stamped with necessity -and are presupposed by its essence, inasmuch as it is on this path -that the Ideal evolves itself by its own agency with that which it is -according to its notion. This reality of the spiritual gods adequate to -its notion carries us on to the genuine Ideals of the classical type of -art, which, in contrast to the old _régime_ which has been vanquished, -represent immortality[179], for mortality generally resides in the -incompatibility of the notion to its determinate existence. - -[Footnote 139: _Als eine Unwürdigkeit_. As something unworthy of the -full notion of its gods.] - -[Footnote 140: That is, the relegation of it to a position of -inferiority.] - -[Footnote 141: This is the German word. By genius I presume Hegel means -"the familiar spirit" of a particular animal. Apparently this rather -than "kind." "Iliad," II, 308; XII, 208.] - -[Footnote 142: "Odyss." XIV, 414; XXIV, 215.] - -[Footnote 143: "Metam." I, vv. 150-243.] - -[Footnote 144: "Metam." VI, vv. 440-676.] - -[Footnote 145: "Metam." I, vv. 451-567.] - -[Footnote 146: _Ibid._, IX, vv. 454-64.] - -[Footnote 147: _Ibid.,_ V, v. 302.] - -[Footnote 148: _Ibid._, vv. 319-31.] - -[Footnote 149: "Herod." II, 46.] - -[Footnote 150: Creuzer, "Symb." I, 477.] - -[Footnote 151: That is, the sphere of fauns as a part of Nature.] - -[Footnote 152: _Praktisch._ The contrast is between the philosophic -contemplation and the world regarded as the sphere of human activity.] - -[Footnote 153: By _Umkehr_ Hegel probably means a "return" in the -direction of the art of the Sublime.] - -[Footnote 154: _Einen bestimmten Kreis._ The meaning seems to be that -the circle of examples is here a clearly defined and limited one as -contrasted with the vagueness of Oriental Pantheism.] - -[Footnote 155: "Herod." II, 52.] - -[Footnote 156: _War ein entscheidendes Moment._ That is, was part of -the oracular reply.] - -[Footnote 157: Both wording and punctuation of this sentence are at -fault, but I give the sense no doubt intended.] - -[Footnote 158: I am not sure what is referred to here by _Telchinen_ -and _Pätaken._] - -[Footnote 159: _Das Ganze_, means here, I think, the whole of Creation.] - -[Footnote 160: That is, took no further active interest in human life.] - -[Footnote 161: Politicus ex rec. Bekk. II, 2, p. 283; Steph. 274.] - -[Footnote 162: "Protag." I, 1, pp. 170-4; Steph. 320-3.] - -[Footnote 163: I have just above translated _Sitte_ with the word -"custom," that is, ethical custom. But the contrast here is, I -think, between morality generally (_sittlich_) and juridical right -(_Rechtliche_).] - -[Footnote 164: The argument of Hegel is ingenious. It must be admitted, -however, that in several accounts of Prometheus, notably that of -Aeschylus, Zeus is represented as hostile to human progress. And it -is rather a strain on the facts to trace, in the case of Ceres, so -much that is of an ethical colour to agriculture, and limit the use of -fire simply to the crafts of Hephaestos, ignoring, that is to say, its -domestic use altogether.] - -[Footnote 165: _Der Sittlichkeit._] - -[Footnote 166: _Gehaltvolle._ That is, intrinsically sound and -substantial.] - -[Footnote 167: "Eum." vv. 206-9.] - -[Footnote 168: Soph., "Ant." v. 451: ἡ ξὐνoικoς τῶν κάτω θεῶν Δἰκη.] - -[Footnote 169: _Umgestaltung._ Remodelling, reorganization. Reformation -in literal sense.] - -[Footnote 170: _Trübe._ "Troubled" perhaps is better.] - -[Footnote 171: The Cabeiri were mystic Powers. Aeschylus wrote a drama -under this title. The ancients differ greatly as to their origin and -nature, Herodotus assumes an Egyptian origin.] - -[Footnote 172: _Feste_ is as a substantive a stronghold, and this may -be Hegel's meaning, but I think he uses it here for _Festigkeit_, -consistency, compact security.] - -[Footnote 173: The sentence is not very clear. The sense is that -Prometheus is honoured as the Earth and Sun are honoured by his -assistance of human needs.] - -[Footnote 174: Vv. 54-6. "This entire spot is sacred; awful Poseidon -holds it, and therein is the fire bringing god, the Titan Prometheus."] - -[Footnote 175: Vv. 1645-8.] - -[Footnote 176: Vv. 901 _et seq._] - -[Footnote 177: Hegel means that in the suffering of Kleon Sophocles -treats the natural law of Antigone and the higher law of the king on -the same terms.] - -[Footnote 178: Lit., "what is made for it," _e.g._, the detail of -objective experience.] - -[Footnote 179: _Unvergänglichkeit._ Hegel no doubt refers to the -epithet always applied by Homer and other, Greek poets to the gods of -Olympus, immortal.] - - - - -CHAPTER II - -THE IDEAL OF THE CLASSICAL TYPE OF ART - -We have already seen what the essence of the Ideal is in our general -consideration of the beauty of art. Here we are to take it merely in -the special sense appropriate to the _classic_ Ideal, whose notion has -already presented itself in its general features in its association -with the notion of the _classical_ art-type. For the Ideal, of which -we have now to speak, consists simply in this, that classical art in -very truth attains to and sets before us that which exposes its most -intimate notion. As content it grasps on this particular plane the -spiritual, in so far as this Spirit attracts Nature and her powers to -its own appropriate realm, and sets itself before us in exposition not -as mere inwardness and dominion over Nature, but furthermore accepts -as its proper form, human shape, deed, and action, through which -the spiritual shines forth clearly in perfect freedom, and the form -penetrates with its life into the sensuous material not merely as into -a mode of externality symbolically significant, but as actually into a -determinate existence, which is the adequate existence of Spirit. - -We may divide up, then, the present chapter into the following sections: - -We have in the _first_ place to consider the _general_ character of -the classic Ideal, which possesses what is pertinent to humanity -in its form no less than its content, and elaborates both sides in -the completest consistency one with the other. _Secondly_, however, -forasmuch as here the human is absorbed wholly into the bodily shape -and external appearance, it becomes the _definite_ external shape, -which in its conformity is merely a defined content. Since, therefore, -we have the Ideal before us at the same time as _particularity_, there -arises a definite number of _particular_ gods and powers in the shape -of human existence. _Thirdly_, this particularity does not persist in -the abstraction of _one_ type of definition, whose essential character -would constitute the entire content and the one-sided principle for its -representation; but rather it is quite as much essentially a totality -and the _individual_ unity and congruity which is applicable to such. -Without this repletion such particularity would remain cold and empty; -the vitality of Life would fail it, a contingency which is impossible -to the Ideal in any relation whatever. - -We have now to consider more narrowly the Ideal of classical art -according to these three aspects of universality, particularity, and -individual singularity. - - -1. THE IDEAL OF CLASSICAL ART GENERALLY - -The questions which arise relatively to the origins of the Greek gods, -in so far as the real centre for ideal reproduction results from -them, we have already touched upon, and seen that they belong to the -elaborated tradition of art. The modification that is incidental to -that treatment can only proceed by means of the twofold degradation, -on the one hand, of the universal powers of Nature and their -personification, and, on the other, of the animal constituents and -its form, in order that thereby it may win the spiritual as its true -determinate substance, and also the human mode of appearance as its -true form. - -(_a_) We have described how the classical Ideal first really becomes -actual through such a remodelling of that which came before the -earliest aspect of it. Along with this we have above all to draw -attention to just this fact, that it is generated from mind (Spirit), -and consequently has originated in the most intimate and personal -resources of the poets and artists, who brought it into the presence -of conscious life with the aid of a thoughtful consideration as -clear as it was unfettered and with the distinct object of artistic -production. In opposition to this creation we have, however, apparently -the fact that Greek mythology reposes on earlier traditions, and -contains distinct references to foreign, that is Oriental, matter. -Herodotus, for example, although specifically asserting in the passage -already cited that Homer and Hesiod created for the Greeks their -gods, nevertheless in other passages associates closely these very -Greek gods with other divinities such as those of Egypt. For in the -second book[180] he expressly narrates that Melampus gave the name of -Dionysos to the Greeks, further introduced the Phallus and the entire -sacrificial festival, adding, however, this discrepant detail, that -Melampus had learnt the religious service from the Tyrian Kadmus and -the Phoenicians, who came with Kadmus to Boeotia. These contradictory -statements have roused interest in our own times, more particularly -as associated with Creuzer's researches, who endeavours to discover -in Homer, for example, ancient mysteries and the sources which flowed -in together towards Greece, whether they be Asiatic, Pelasgian, -Dodonian, Thracian, Samothracian, Phrygian, Indian, Buddhistic, -Phoenician, Egyptian, or Orphic, to say nothing of the infinitely -varied peculiarities of specific localities and other details. No doubt -it appears at first sight wholly inconsistent with these many sources -of tradition that those poets should have supplied either the names or -the substantial form of the gods. It is possible, however, to harmonize -entirely both factors, tradition, and individual creation. The -tradition comes first; it is the point of departure, which hands down -the mere ingredients; but for all that it does not contribute the real -content and the genuine form of the gods. This substantive presence is -the product of the genius of those poets, who discovered by a process -of free elaboration the true substantive form of these very gods and -are consequently in fact become the creators of that mythology which -awakes our admiration of Greek art. Yet for this reason the Homeric -gods, in one aspect of them, are not to be taken as the result merely -of the poetic phantasy, or nothing more than capricious invention. They -have their roots in the genius and beliefs of the Greek folk and the -religious basis of that nation. They are the absolute potencies and -powers, the highest stretch of the Greek conception, the central point -of the beautiful regarded universally, presented, so to speak, by the -Muses themselves to the poet. - -In this free handling, then, the artist takes up an entirely different -position from that he occupies in the East. The Hindoo poets and -sages have also to begin with material ready to work upon, such as the -elements of Nature, the heavens, animals, streams, and so forth, or -the pure abstraction of the formless and contentless Brahman. Their -enthusiasm, however, is a confusion of the ideal character[181] of -the subjectivity which accepts the difficult task of elaborating such -an external material to it, an enthusiasm which, in the unmeasured -expansion of its imagination, which excludes every secure and -absolute[182] direction, is unable to mould its creations conformably -to genuine freedom of expression and beauty, and remains the slave -of that material in uncontrolled and roving productive activity. It -resembles, in fact, a master-builder who has no firm foundation beneath -him. Ancient ruins of half dismantled walls, mounds, and projecting -rocks fetter him, quite apart from the particular aims according to -which he desires to construct his building; and he can only create -a wild, inharmonious, and fantastical fabric. In other words, that -which he produces is not the result of his imagination freely acting -under its own plastic genius. Conversely the Hebrew poets present -us with revelations which, it is said, they deliver as the Lord's -voice, so that here again the creative source is an enthusiasm not -fully self-conscious; it is separated, that is, and distinct from -individuality and the productive genius of the artist, as in the wisdom -of the Sublime generally it is the abstract and eternal, essentially -in its relation to something other than it and external, which is -consciously or imaginatively conceived. - -In classical art artists and poets are, it is true, also prophets and -teachers, who declare and reveal to mankind the nature of the Absolute -and Divine. But we must emphasize here the following distinctions: - -(_α_) In the _first_ place the content of their gods is neither that -appearance of Nature which is external to humanity nor the mere -abstraction of one Godhead, whereby merely a superficial formulation -or an inwardness that is without content is preserved. Their content -is, on the contrary, deduced from human life and existence, and for -this reason is that which is peculiar to the human breast; a content, -in short, with which man himself can freely coalesce as at home with -himself, while that which he thus produces is the fairest product of -his own activity. - -(_β_) _Secondly_, these artists are at the same time _poets_, that is, -men of creative talent who work the aforesaid material and its content -into a free and substantially independent form. As thus regarded Greek -artists are in all essential respects creative poets. They have brought -together all the varied original ingredients into the melting-pot, -but they have produced thereby no mere broth, such as might come from -a witches' cauldron; rather they did away with all that is troubled, -purely natural, unclean, foreign, and without rational measure in the -pure flame of this more profound spirit; they made all glow together -and permitted the form to appear at last purified, albeit it still -retained a distant accord with the ruder material from which it was -fashioned. What mainly concerned them in this work consisted partly -in the winnowing away of all that was in their inherited material -destitute of form and beauty, distorted and symbolical, and partly in -the prominence they gave to what was really spiritual, which they set -themselves to render under modes of individuality, and in the interest -of which they had to discover gradually the external appearance most -appropriate. Here for the first time we find that it is the human form -and human actions and events, not merely made use of under the mode -of personification, which, as we have already seen, necessarily stand -forth as the uniquely adequate reality. No doubt the artist discovers -these forms, too, in the real world; but he has at the same time to -eradicate all that is accidental and incongruent in them, before they -are entitled to appear as commensurable with that humanity, which, as -essentially apprehended, shall offer to us the image of the eternal -powers and gods. And this is what we call the free and spiritual, and -not merely capricious production of the artist. - -(_γ_) And, _thirdly_, for the reason that the gods are not merely -stable existences in their own world, but also are active within the -concrete reality of Nature and human, events, the poet is further -concerned to recognize the presence and activity of the gods in this -relation to human, fact, to interpret, that is, the particularity of -natural event and human actions and destiny wherein the divine powers -are apparently interfused, and to share thus the duties of the priest -and the seer. We, from the point of view of our everyday prosaic -reflection, explain the phenomena of Nature according to universal laws -and forces, and interpret the actions of mankind as the product of -their subjective intentions and self-proposed aims. The Greek poets, -however, have their eyes everywhere directed toward the Divine, and -create, by giving to human activities the loftier colour and habit -of divine actions, and by means of such interpretation, the various -aspects under which the power of the gods is made visible. For a number -of such interpretations results in a number of actions, in which we -are made aware of the character of this or that god. We have but to -open, for example, the Homeric poems, and we shall scarcely meet with -a single event of importance which is not more closely elucidated as -proceeding from the volition or actual assistance of the gods. These -expositions are, in fact, the insight, the independently created -belief, the intuitive conceptions of the poet, just as Homer often, -too, gives expression to them in his own name, and in part also places -such in the mouth of his characters, whether priest or hero. Quite at -the opening of the "Iliad," for example, he has himself explained the -pestilence in the Greek camp as the result of the indignation of Apollo -over Agamemnon, who refused to release to Chryses his daughters[183]; -and, in a passage that follows, he makes Calchas transmit this very -interpretation to the Greeks[184]. - -In a similar way Homer informs us in the concluding canto of the -"Odyssey"--on the occasion when Hermes conducted the shades of the -inanimate suitors to the meadows of Asphodel, and they find there -Achilles and the other deceased heroes, who fought before Troy, and -finally, too, Agamemnon joins them--how the last-mentioned describes -the death of Achilles[185]: - -"The whole day long had the Greeks fought; and when at last Zeus -separated the combatants, they carried the noble body to the ships, -and washed it, weeping often the while, and embalmed it. Then there -arose a divine uproar on the sea, and the affrighted Achaeans would -have been flung headlong into their hollow ships, had not an aged and -much knowing man, Nestor to wit, restrained them, whose advice had -also proved the wisest on former occasion." Nestor then interprets for -them the phenomenon in the following terms: "The _mother_[186] comes -forth from the sea with the immortal sea-goddesses, in order to meet -her deceased son. And the great-hearted Achaeans at this word let -their fear depart from them." That is to say, they knew then of what -kind it was--of human origin--the mother in her grief comes toward -him; what they shall see and hear is that which finds its response -in themselves. Achilles is her son, she is herself full of grief. -And in this vein Agamemnon, turning towards Achilles, continues his -narrative with a description of the universal sorrow: "And around thee -stood the daughters of the ancient of the sea, lamenting, and they -robed themselves in ambrosial garments; and the Muses also, the nine -in conclave, wailed by turns in beautiful song; and there was I ween -no man of the Argives to be seen without tears, so greatly did the -clear-toned song move all." - -It is, however, another divine apparition in the "Odyssey" which has -always in this connection most particularly fascinated me in my study -of it. Odysseus in his sea-wanderings, insulted among the Phaeacians -during the sports over which Euryalos presides, because he refused to -take part in the rival throwing of the discus, makes answer indignantly -with dark looks and hard words. He then stands up, seizes a disk, -larger and heavier than the rest, and hurls it far and away over the -mark. One of the Phaeacians marks down the throw and calls out: "Even -a blind man could see the stone; it does not lie within the medley of -the rest, but far beyond. Thou hast nothing to fear in this contest; -there is no Phaeacian who will reach or surpass such a throw as thine -is. So he spake; but the much-enduring divine Odysseus rejoiced to see -a well-disposed friend in the lists." And this word, this friendly nod -of the Phaeacian Homer interprets as the friendly apparition of Athene. - -(_b_) Of what kind, then, we may further ask, are the _products_ of -this classical mode of artistic activity, of what type are the new gods -of Greek art? - -(_α_) It is their concentrated individuality which presents to us the -most general and at the same time most complete idea of their intrinsic -character, in so far, that is, as this individuality is brought -together out of the variety of accidental traits, isolated actions, and -events into the one focus of their simple and self-exclusive unity. - -(_αα_) What appeals to us in these gods is first of all the spiritual -and _substantive_ individuality, which, withdrawn into itself as it -is out of the motley show of the particular medium of necessity, and, -the many-purposed unrest of the finite condition, reposes on its own -inviolable universality, as on an eternal and intelligible foundation. -It is only thus that the gods appear as the imperishable powers, whose -untroubled rule is made visible to us not in the particular event in -its evolution with somewhat else and external to it, but freely in its -own unchangeableness and intrinsic worth. - -(_ββ_) Conversely, however, they are not by any means the bare -abstraction of spiritual generalities, and thereby so-called general -Ideals, but in so far as they are individuals they appear as one Ideal, -an essentially of itself determinate existence, and consequently -one that is defined, in other words one that as Spirit possesses -_characterization._ Without character we can have no individuality. -From this point of view we find, as we have already indicated -previously, that there is at the root of these spiritual gods a -definite natural force, with which a definite ethical consistency[187] -is blended, such as imposes on every particular god distinct bounds to -the sphere of his activity. The manifold aspects and traits which are -forthcoming by reason of this characterization as particular persons, -being in this way concentrated in the point of a true self-identity, -constitute the characters of the gods. - -(_γγ_) In the true Ideal, however, this definition ought just as little -to terminate in the blunt restriction of pure _one sidedness_, but -must at the same time appear as withdrawn into the universality of the -godhead. In just such a way, then, every god, by carrying in his own -person this defined character as divine and as bound up with that as -universal individuality, is in part of a definite type, and in part -is all in all, and floats, as it were, precisely midway between mere -universality and equally abstract singularity. And this is what gives -to the genuine Ideal of classical art its infinite security and repose, -its untroubled blessedness and unimpaired freedom. - -(_β_) Add to this that as beauty of classical art the essentially -self-articulate divine character is not only spiritual, but fully as -much plastic form which appears externally in its bodily presence to -the eye no less than to the mind. - -(_αα_) This beauty, inasmuch as it possesses not merely the natural or -animal aspect in its spiritual personification, but includes as its -content that which is spiritual in its adequate mode of existence, -can only take up what is _symbolical_ in its incidental aspect and -under those relations in which it appears as purely natural. Its real -external expression is the form that is peculiar to mind and only mind, -in so far as its ideal character reveals itself as existent truth, and -pours itself wholly through that form. - -(_ββ_) From another point of view classical beauty is debarred -from giving expression to the _Sublime._ For it is only the -abstract universal, which attaches to itself no inclusion such as -is self-defined, but merely a negative determinacy relatively to -particularity in general, and along with this is resolute in its -antagonism to every form of embodiment which presents us with the -aspect of the Sublime. Classical beauty, on the contrary, carries -spiritual individuality into the very heart of what is at the same time -its natural existence, and elucidates the ideal content wholly in the -material of its external appearance. - -(_γγ_) For this very reason, however, it is essential that the -external form quite as much as the spiritual, which creates for -itself therein its home and dwelling, should be liberated from all -dependence on Nature and derangement, all finitude, all that is of -fleeting character, all that is exclusively concerned with the sensuous -presence, and should purify and exalt that definition of it which -discloses affinity with the determinate character of the god into free -commerce with the universal forms of the human figure. The stainless -externality alone, from which every hint of weakness and relativity has -been removed, and every flick of capricious particularity wiped off, is -able to represent the Spirit's ideality, which should sink itself in it -and secure an embodiment from it. - -(_γ_) For the reason, however, that the gods are forced once more -from the defined limits of character into the universal wave, the -self-subsistency of Spirit as repose on itself, and as the security of -itself in its external form has to discover a real reflection also in -its manifestation. - -(_αα_) Consequently we observe in the concrete individuality of the -gods--when we have before us the genuine classic Ideal, on equal -terms with all else--this nobility and loftiness of Spirit, in which, -despite the entire absorption within the bodily and sensuous presence, -we are made conscious of the absolute removal of all the indigence -of what is wholly finite. Pure self-absorption[188] and the abstract -liberation from every kind of determinacy is the highway to the Ideal -of the Sublime. The classical Ideal, on the contrary, is made visible -in an existence which entirely is its own, that is, the specific -manifestation of Spirit itself; yet for all that we shall find that -here, too, the Sublimity of the same is blended with the beauty, and -that the one aspect passes over immediately into the other. And this -it is which constitutes the expression of loftiness in these figures -of the gods, making inevitable the Sublime of classical beauty. An -immortal seriousness[189] makes its throne on the forehead of these -gods, and is poured forth over their entire presentment. - -(_ββ_) In their beauty these gods appear, therefore, as exalted -over their individual bodily shape; we have consequently a kind -contradiction or contention between their lofty blessedness, which is, -in fact, their spiritual self-exclusiveness and their beauty, which -pertains to their external bodily presence. Spirit appears wholly -lost in its external form, and yet for all that appears quite as much -absorbed in itself from out that form. It is precisely as though we had -the moving to and fro of an immortal god among mortal men. - -In this relation the Greek gods make on us an impression which, despite -all difference, resembles that which the bust of Goethe by Rauch made -upon me when I first saw it. Many will have doubtless seen it, the high -brow, the powerful, commanding nose, the free eye, the round chin, -the affable, finely-cut lips, the pose of the head, so suggestive of -genius, with its glance a bit on one side and uplifted: add to this -the entire fulness and breadth of an emotional and genial humanity, -and further, those carefully articulated muscles of the forehead, of -the entire countenance, of all that gives evidence of passion and -emotion; and in all this house of Life, the repose, stillness, and -loftiness of advanced age; and we may add withal the fading ebb of the -lips, which retreat back into the teethless mouth, the slackness of -the neck and cheeks, whereby the bridge of the nose appears yet more -dominant, and the reach of the forehead yet more towering. The force -of this firmly set figure, which to an extraordinary degree brings -before us the notion of immutability, appears all the more so in the -loose environment which surrounds it[190], just as the sublime head and -form of the Oriental in his wide turban, but flapping over-garment and -trailing slippers. It is the secure, powerful, timeless spirit, which, -in the mask of encircling mortality, is just ready to let this husk -fall away, and yet suffers it to linger around it freely and without -restraint. - -In much the same way the gods appear to us in their aspect of lofty -freedom and spiritual repose to be exalted over their bodily presence, -so that they seem to feel their form, their limbs, despite all the -beauty that is there, as at the same time a superfluous appanage. And -yet withal the entire presentment is suffused with vitality, identical -with their spiritual being, inseparable, without the disunion of what -is essentially subsistent, and those parts which are more loosely put -together, the spirit in short neither escaping nor coming forth from -the body, but both firmly moulded together into a whole, out of which, -and in no other way, the self-absorption of Spirit looks forth in -silence in its amazing and secure self-possession. - -(_γγ_) For the reason, then, that the contention we have indicated is -present, without appearing, however, as a difference or separation of -the ideal spirituality from its external form, the negative which is -therein contained, is for this very reason immanent in this inseparable -totality and is thereby expressed. This is within the sphere of this -spiritual loftiness the breath and atmosphere of melancholy, which -men of genius have felt in the godlike figures of antique art even -where the beauty of the external presentment is consummate. The -repose of divine blessedness[191] is unable to split itself up into -the passions of joy, pleasure, and satisfaction, and the _peace_ of -immortality stands aloof from the smile of self-satisfaction and genial -contentedness. Contentment is the emotion of the agreement of our -singular subjectivity with the condition of that environment which is -defined for or given to us or brought about through our own agency. -Napoleon, for example, never expressed more thorough contentment than -when he happened to obtain some success at the cost of making all -the world discontented. For contentment is only the approval of my -own being, action, and engagements, and the extreme of it is readily -recognizable in that state of feeling of the Philistine to which every -man of practical ability necessarily extends it. This feeling and its -expression is, however, no expression appropriate to the prefigured -immortal gods. Free and perfected beauty is not satisfied with joining -the concordant temper of a particular finite existence; rather its -individuality, in its aspect as Spirit no less than in that of form, -albeit it is self-defined with characterization, only finds itself -fully in union with its true nature when it is at the same time free -universality and spirituality in repose upon itself. This universality -is just that which people are wont to point to as the frigidity of -the Greek gods. They are only cold, however, to our modern intimacy -with the temporal. Independently regarded they possess warmth and -life; that peaceful blessedness, which is reflected in their external -presentment, is essentially an abstraction from particularity, a -mode of being indifferent to the Past, a surrender of that which is -external, a giving up which, albeit neither full of trouble nor pain, -is for all that a giving up of what is earthly and evanescent, just as -their cheerfulness of spirit looks far away and over death, the grave, -loss and temporality, and for the very reason that it is profound -inherently contains this negative we are discussing. And the more this -earnestness and spiritual freedom is prominent in the vision of these -godlike figures the more we feel the contrast between this loftiness -and the determinate corporality in which they are enclosed. The -blessed gods mourn quite as much over their blessedness as their bodily -environment. In the letters of their form we read the destiny which -lies before them, and whose development, as actual manifestation of -that contradiction between this very loftiness and that particularity, -spirituality, and sensuous existence classical art itself sets face to -face with its final overthrow. - -(_c_) If we ask ourselves, then, _thirdly_, what is the nature of -the external representation, which is adequate to this notion of the -classic Ideal we have just indicated, we shall find in this connection, -too, that the essential points of view have already in our general -consideration of the Ideal been furnished us with considerable detail. -We have consequently here only further to remark, that in the genuine -classic Ideal the spiritual individuality of the gods is not conceived -in their relation to something else, or brought about by virtue of -their particularity in conflict, and battle, but rather is made visible -in their eternal self-tranquillity, in this painfulness of the godlike -peace itself. The determinate character is not, therefore, made active -in the way that it stimulated the gods to the sense of particular -emotions and passions, or compelled them to adopt specific aims of -conduct. On the contrary, it is precisely out of that collision and -development, nay, out of that very relation to the finite and all that -is essentially discordant that they are brought back to that condition -of pure self-absorption. This repose in its most austere severity, not -inflexible, cold, or dead, but sensitive and immutable, is the highest -and most adequate form of representation for the classic gods. When -they make their appearance consequently in specific situations, it is -not necessary that there should be conditions or actions which give -rise to conflicts, but rather such which, as themselves harmless, so, -too, leave the gods in a like condition. It is, therefore, sculpture -which among the arts is above all adapted to portray the classic Ideal -in its simple self-possession, in which what is rather the universal -divinity receives more obvious emphasis than the particular character. -Chiefly it is the more ancient and more austere type of sculpture which -maintains its firm hold of this aspect of the Ideal, and only in the -later forms we find a movement towards increased dramatic vividness -of situations and characterization. Poetry, on the contrary, ranges -the gods in vigorous action, that is, in an attitude of negation to -a definite mode of life, and brings them thereby into conflict and -strife. The repose of plastic art, where it remains in the sphere which -is uniquely its own, can only express the aforesaid negative phase of -spirit face to face with particular facts in that serious strain of -melancholy, which we have already attempted to define more nearly. - - -2. THE SPHERE OF THE PARTICULAR GODS - -As individuality in visible form, represented under the mode of -immediate existence, and withal both definite and particular, godhead -necessarily is divided into a number of figures. In other words, -Polytheism is unquestionably essential as the principle of classical -art, and it would be the undertaking of a fool to think of embodying -the one God of the Sublime and of Pantheism or the absolute religion, -which comprehends God purely as Spirit and essential personality, in -the plastic type of beauty, or to entertain the idea that the classical -forms could have arisen among the Jews, Mohammedans, or Christians, -as adapted to the content of their religious beliefs, from their own -original views of the world, as they did in the case of the Greeks. - -(_a_) In this multiplicity the divine universe[192] at this stage -is broken up into a sphere of particular gods, of which each -individual stands by himself alone in contrast to all the others. -These individualities are not, however, of the kind that they can be -taken merely as allegorical presentations of universal qualities, as -if Apollo, for example, were the god of wisdom, Zeus of dominion. -Zeus is also quite as much wisdom, and in the "Eumenides" Apollo, as -we have seen, protects Orestes, the son and the royal son to boot, -whom he himself has stimulated to an act of vengeance. The sphere -of the Greek gods is a multiplicity of individuals, of which every -particular god, albeit also in the specific character of a particular -person, is at the same time a self-exclusive totality, which itself -possesses essentially also the quality of another god. For every such -presentment, viewed as divine, is always, too, a whole. It is only by -this means that the divine personalities of Greek religion include an -abundance of traits; and although their blessedness consists in their -universal and spiritual self-repose no less than in their abstraction -from the direct movement which Time is for ever defeating in the sphere -of the disintegrating manifold of natural fact and condition, yet for -all that they possess the power in a like degree to assert themselves -as energetic and active in many of its aspects. They are neither the -abstract particular nor the abstract universal, but the universal which -is the source of particularity. - -(_b_) On account of this type of individuality, however, Greek -polytheism is unable to make up an essentially systematic and -self-integrated totality. At the first glance, it is true, it appears -imperative to require of the Olympus of the gods, that the numerous -gods that are there assembled, should, as thus collected together, -and if their separable unities have real truth in them, and their -content is to be classic in the true sense, also express essentially -the totality of the Idea, should exhaust the entire sphere of the -necessary forces of Nature and Spirit, and give to themselves therefore -constructive completeness, in other words, manifest themselves as -subject to a principle of necessity. This demand, however, would be -liable from the first to the qualification that those forces present -in the emotions and, generally speaking, assertive in the sphere -of spiritual life in the absolute significance[193] which becomes -operative first in the later and higher religion, must remain excluded -from the sphere of the classic gods, so that the range of content, the -particular aspects of which succeed in making an appearance in Greek -mythology, would be already thereby curtailed. Moreover, apart from -this, we have also on the one hand, necessarily introduced by virtue of -the essentially varied character of this individuality, the accidental -incidents of a definition, which avoids the rigorous articulation -of the differences inherent in the notion, and does not suffer -these divinities to maintain the abstraction of merely _one_ mode -of determination. And, on the other hand, the universality, in the -elemental medium of which the divine personalities secure their blessed -state, abolishes any hard and fast particularity, and the loftiness of -the eternal powers exalts itself jubilant over the cold seriousness of -finite fact, wherein, if this inconsequence did not prevail, the divine -presences would be evolved through the medium of their limitations. - -However much, therefore, even the principal forces of the world, as the -totality of Nature and Spirit, are reproduced in Greek mythology, this -aggregation, quite as much in the interests of the universal Divine as -in those of the individuality of particular gods, cannot assert itself -as a _systematic_ whole. If this were not so, instead of _individual_ -characters the gods would approximate rather to allegorical beings, -and instead of being _divine_ personalities would be characters wholly -limited to finite and abstract modes. - -(_c_) When we consequently consider the circle of the Greek -divinities--that is all within the range of the so-called presiding -divinities--more nearly according to their fundamental character, -inquiring how that character appears firmly delineated by sculpture -in its most general and at the same time sensuously concrete -presentment, we find no doubt the essential distinctions and their -totality explicitly set before us, but also in their detail also -ever again obliterated, and the severity of the execution tempered -to a result which is inconsistent with either their beauty or their -individuality. So for example Zeus bears in his hands the dominion -over gods and men, without, however, thereby essentially endangering -the free independence of the other gods. He is the supreme god; his -power, however, does not absorb that of the others. We find in the -conception of him no doubt an association with the heavens, with -lightning and thunder, and the generative vitality of Nature; but he -is yet more truly the might of the State, of the order of fact which -is conformable to law, the binding nexus in contracts, oaths, and -hospitality, and generally the substantial bond that gives subsistence -to the human condition, whether in its practical or ethical aspect, -the potency, in short, both of knowledge and spirit. The dominion of -his brothers is directed toward the sea or the lower world. Apollo is -known as the god of knowledge, as the mouthpiece and fair presentment -of spiritual interests, as the teacher of the Muses. "Know thyself" -is the inscription over his temple at Delphi, a behest which is not -so much concerned with the failings and defects, as the essential -import of spirit, that is with art and the truth of consciousness. -Subtlety and eloquence, mediation in fact generally as we also find -it in subordinate spheres, which, albeit immoral elements are therein -commingled, nevertheless are appurtenant to the complete range of -spiritual life--such is the most important province of the activity -of Hermes, who also leads the shades of the dead to the underworld. -The might of war is what mainly distinguishes Ares. Hephaestos is -conspicuously capable in the technical crafts. The enthusiasm which -still carries with it a natural element, the strong emotions which -wine, sport, and dramatic performances naturally produce are the native -province of Dionysos. The spheres allotted to the feminine divinities -very much correspond to the above series. In Here the ethical bond of -marriage is the most dominant trait. Ceres is the instructress and -developer of agriculture, and as such has presented mankind with both -those adjuncts to its cultivation, that is to say, first, the care for -the nurture of natural products, which satisfy man's immediate wants, -and, secondly, the spiritual accessories of property, marriage, right, -the beginnings of civilization and moral order. In the same way Athene -is the representative of moderation, good sense[194], legality, the -power of wisdom, technical capacity in the arts and courageousness, and -comprises within her intelligent and warlike maidenhood the concrete -spirit of the folk, the free and substantive spirit which uniquely -belongs to the Athenian state, and places the same before us in -positive shape as sovereign and godlike power to be revered. Artemis on -the contrary, wholly distinct from the Ephesian Diana, possesses the -more inflexible independence of maiden modesty for her most essential -characteristic. She loves the chase, and is generally not so much the -quietly pensive, as the severe and eager-striving maiden. Aphrodite, -together with the charming Cupid, who in his descent from the ancient -Titan Eros became a boy, is the interpreter of all that the attractions -and sexual passion effect in our humanity. This, then, is the kind -of content of the spiritually informed individual gods. In so far -as we are concerned with their external representation we can only -repeat that sculpture is the most important art in this respect, and -it is carried to the point of this detail of their particularity. If, -however, it is permitted to express that individuality in its more -specific determination, it at once passes beyond its primary severe -loftiness, although even in that case it unites the variety and wealth -of such individuality under _one_ mode of definition, namely that -which we distinguish as character, and establishes this character in -its more simple clarity for the envisagement of the senses, in other -words for the completest and most final determination of the external -presentment of these divinities. For the imagination always remains -relatively to the external and real existence less distinct, when it -elaborates, as it also does, as poetry the same content in a number -of tales, occurrences, and events which concern the gods. For this -reason sculpture is on the one hand more ideal, while on the other -it individualizes the character of the gods in perfectly clear human -outlines, and perfects the anthropomorphism of the classic Ideal. As -this presentation of the Ideal in its mode of externality, entirely -adequate as it unquestionably is to the essentially ideal content it -declares, these figures of Greek sculpture are the Ideals in their -absolutely explicit realization; they are the self-subsistent, eternal -forms, the centre of the plastic beauty of classical art, whose type -persists as the foundation, even there too, where these figures step -forth on the planes of definite activity, and appear as affected by the -revolutions of particular events. - - -3. THE PARTICULAR INDIVIDUALITY OF THE GODS - -Individuality and its representation is, however, unable to acquiesce -in that which is still an ever relative and abstract articulation -of character. A star is exhaustively summarized in the simple laws -that control it. A few definite traits may sufficiently characterize -the external formation of the world of rocks; but already in the -vegetable world we are aware of an infinite variety of manifold -structure, transition, interfusion, and anomaly. Animal organizations -are distinguished by a still greater range of difference, and -constantly shifting interaction with the external environment to which -they are related. And finally, as we rise to the spiritual realm -and its manifestation, we are conscious of a yet more infinitely -embracing multiplicity, both of its internal and external existence. -Inasmuch, then, as the classic Ideal does not rest content with purely -self-possessed individuality, but is further concerned to place the -same in motion, to bring the same into relation with something else, -and to exhibit it as active in such relation--for these reasons the -character of the gods does not rest stationary in the possession -of what itself is an essentially still substantive determination, -but secures further particular traits of wider extension. The -self-exclusive movement in the direction of external existence, and -the change which is inseparable from it supplies the more intimate -traits that constitute the singularity of any particular god, as is -meet and fit and withal necessary to complete a living personality. The -accidental nature of these particular traits is, however, associated -at the same time with such a type of _singularity_, traits, that is, -we are no longer able to refer back to the universal aspect of the -substantive significance. For this reason this particular aspect of -the separate divinities approximates to something positive, which can -consequently also merely stand about it and continue to resound as an -external accessory. - -(_a_) We are therefore at once confronted with the question: "From -what source is the _material_ secured for this mode of the appearance -of singularity, and in what manner is this forward process of -particularization maintained?" For the ordinary individual man, for -his character out of which he brings his actions to a conclusion, for -the events in which he is involved, for the destiny which awaits him, -this closest and more positive material is supplied by his external -conditions, such as the date of his birth, the situation he inherits, -parents, education, environment, temporal relations, the entire -province, that is, of the conditions of his life as they affect his -spiritual nature or bodily existence. The present world contains this -material, and the records of life furnished by different individuals -are from this point of view characterized by every conceivable -difference. It is another matter altogether, however, with the free -shapes of godlike individuality, which possess no determinate -existence in the concrete world of Nature, but have their birth in -the cradle of the imagination. For this very reason it is an obvious -assumption that poets and artists, who, speaking in general terms, -have created the Ideal out of their free spiritual bounty, have merely -borrowed the material for these accidental particular traits from the -caprice of their own innate powers of imagination. This assumption is, -however, false. For we assigned in general terms to classical art, the -position that its construction in the first instance is, by means of -the reaction active in its opposition to the assumptions necessarily -requisite to its own peculiar province, carried forward to that which -as genuine Ideal it is. It is from these presuppositions as their -source that the specific traits of particularity are to be looked -for, which supply to the gods their closer individual vitality. The -fundamental features of these assumptions have already been submitted, -and we have only here to remind our readers shortly of what has been -already advanced. - -(_α_) It is the symbolical natural religions which constitute in the -first instance the abundant source which supplies Greek mythology -with the primary substratum that we find then modified within it. But -inasmuch as the traits that are borrowed from such a source have to be -distributed among gods that are represented as individuals possessing -the life of Spirit, they inevitably lose the essential feature of -their character, in which they passed as symbolical; they have now no -longer to retain a significance, which would differ from that which the -individual himself presents and makes visible. The previous symbolical -content becomes now, therefore, converted into the content of a divine -subject itself, and for the reason that it implies no substantive -relation of the god, but is merely an incidental feature, material of -this sort falls together into an external tale, some deed or event, -which is ascribed to the gods in this or that particular situation. -Consequently we find under this head all the symbolical traditions of -the earlier sacred poems, which receive, under the modified shape of -actions proper to a truly self-conscious individuality, the form of -human events and histories, which purport to be accomplished in concert -with the gods, and are not merely the inventions of poets as the mood -dictates. When Homer tells us, for instance, that the gods went off on -a journey to feast for twelve days among the blameless Ethiopians, such -would be a poor enough example of inventiveness regarded as the poet's -invention alone. It is much the same with the tale of the birth of -Zeus. Kronos, we are told, had devoured all his sons; for this reason -Rhea, his spouse, when she was big with her youngest child Zeus, went -off to Crete, where she brought forth her son, presenting to Kronos a -stone to devour instead of her child, whom she swaddled in fur. Later -on Kronos brought up again all his children, his daughters, and along -with them Poseidon. This story, regarded as mere invention, would be -foolish enough. The remnants of symbolical significance still peer, -however, through it, albeit on account of their having lost their -original character, they come down to us in the guise of external -history. The history of Ceres and Proserpina is on similar lines. -Here we have the ancient symbolic significance of the disappearance -and budding forth of the seed of corn. The myth presents this to us -under the image as though Proserpina played one day in a valley with -flowers, and plucked the fragrant narcissus, which from one root opened -in a hundred blossoms. Then the Earth thunders; Pluto ascends from the -depths, lifts the lamenting maiden into his golden car, and bears her -off to the underworld. Thereon Ceres wandered over the Earth for a -long time vainly stricken with a mother's sorrow. Finally Proserpina -returned to the upper world; Zeus, however, had only suffered her to do -this subject to the command that she must never partake of the food of -the gods. Unfortunately she had on one occasion tasted a pomegranate, -and was therefore only able to remain in the upper world during spring -and summer. In this tale, too, we find that the symbolical content has -not been retained, but has been converted into a human event, which -suffers only the more general sense to penetrate through many external -traits. In the same way the supplementary names of the gods point -frequently to symbolical ground-strata of a similar character, from -which, however, the symbolical form has vanished, and which only serve -now to give individuality a more complete characterization. - -(_β_) Local conditions supply a further source for the positive -particularities of individual divinities, no less by presenting us with -the origin of the conceptions of godhead, than by pointing to the modes -under which their services were originally obtained and secured, and -the particular places which were in a special sense devoted to their -worship. - -(_αα_) Although, however, the demonstration of the Ideal and its -universal beauty is exalted over the particular locality and its -unique claims for recognition, and, moreover, has drawn together the -specific external aspects in the more general range of the artistic -imagination into one comprehensive picture which is throughout adequate -to the substantive significance, yet for all that, when the art of -sculpture associates the gods, regarded as individuals, with isolated -relations and conditions, these particular traits and local colours -come frequently also to the fore, in order to reproduce something -of that individuality, although it is only thus more defined in -its external aspect. An illustration of this is the way Pausanias -adduces a mass of ideas, images, pictures, and myths, which he met -with in temples, public places, temple treasuries, in any place where -anything of importance was to be found or otherwise was in the range -of his experience. In the same way and on the same lines the ancient -traditions and local suggestions which have been borrowed from foreign -sources run along with the home ones in Greek myth; and to all of -them more or less a relation has been attached which unites them to -the history, creation, and foundations of States, more particularly -by means of colonization. Forasmuch, however, as this many-sided -and specific material in the universality of the gods has lost its -original significance, we necessarily come across stories, which -in their motley and intricate character fail to convey any meaning -whatever. As an example we may instance the case where Aeschylus in -his "Prometheus" presents to us the wanderings of Io in all their -severity and external garb without admitting the least suggestion of an -ethical or traditional story, or a natural significance. We find just -the same difficulty when we approach the stories of Perseus, Dionysos, -and others. The most varied and confused kind of material is also run -into the tales about Hercules, which forthwith, in such tales, assume -an entirely human aspect under the guise of chance events, exploits, -passions, misfortunes, and other untoward occurrences. - -(_ββ_) In addition to all this the eternal powers of classical art -are the universal constituents of the actual embodiment of the -existence and actions of Greek _humanity_, from whose national origins -consequently in their earliest form, that is, out of the heroic times -and other traditions, still a very considerable residue of detail -remains appendant to the gods even in later days. In this way, too, -many characteristic features in the intricate tales of their gods -unquestionably must be referred to historic personages, heroes, older -folk-races, natural facts and circumstances attributable to wars, -battles, and other matters of a public character. And just as the -family and the distinction of clans is the point of departure of the -State, the Greeks possessed also their family gods, penates, clan-gods, -and furthermore the guardian divinities of particular cities and -states. In this excessive leaning towards the point of view of history -the thesis, however, is apt to be maintained that the origin of the -Greek gods generally is deducible from such historical facts, heroes, -and earlier kings. This is a plausible but none the less superficial -view. Heyne quite in recent times has also given currency to it. In -a way analogous to this a Frenchman, by name Nicholas Fréret, has, -for example, accepted the quarrels of different priestly guilds as -the general principle underlying the war of the gods. That such a -historical phase in the life of a people may contribute something, -that definite clans may have given some effect to their peculiar -notions of deity, that likewise different local aspects may have -afforded further matter in the process of divine individualization--all -this may be admitted, no doubt. The real origin of the gods is for -all that not to be traced to such external material of history, but -resides in the spiritual potencies of Life, under the guise of which -they were conceived. We are consequently only entitled to accept the -more extensive play of all that is positive, local, and historical, -in so far as it makes more definite the formal presentation of each -particular individuality. - -(_γγ_) Inasmuch as, further, the god passes into the sphere of the -human imagination, and, still more important, is represented in real -bodily shape, into close relations with which again man is placed by -his _cultus_ in the activities of divine worship, a fresh material is -here, too, presented by such relations for the extension of all that -is positive and accidental. What animals have to be sacrificed to any -god, what vestments the priesthood or the worshipper must appear in, -what particular sequence must be adopted in any ceremonial--by all such -matters the most varied and particular incidents are accumulated. For -every activity of this kind implies an indefinite number of aspects and -modes of arrangement, which may accidentally fall out in this way or -that, but which, as appurtenant to a sacred rite, should be something -settled, and not fixed by caprice, and which necessarily tend to -pass into the sphere of symbolism. The colour of the vestments is an -example of this; in the ritual of Bacchus we have the colour of wine, -in like manner the doe-skin in which those initiated in the mysteries -were enwrapped. The same thing applies to the drapery and attributes -of the gods, the bow of Pythian Apollo, the whip, the staff, and -numberless other accessories. Such things become, however, gradually -a custom and nothing more; no one in the practice of the same thinks -any longer of their birth history; and all that we now by dint of -our research point out as their significance, has in the performance -of them grown to something quite external, which mankind associates -himself with on account of the immediate interest, that is, from mere -sense of fun, delight in the present, devotion, or simply because it -is just a custom and is so fixed for his active senses, and is done -in like manner by others. As an example from our own life, when we -see our German youth light the Johannis fire in summer time, or play -antics elsewhere, and throw it at the windows, such is for us a purely -formal custom, in which the original significance fades as much into -the background as at the festal dances of Greek youths and maidens -the revolutions of the dance do in their imitative (like the twists -and turns of some labyrinth) significance of the spiral motions of -the planets. Youth does not dance in order to entertain ideas of such -things, but the interest limits itself naturally to the dancing and the -tasteful and graceful festivity of its beautiful motion. The entire -significance, which was created by the original stimulus, and of which -the reproduction was for the imagination and sensuous perception of -symbolical character, is throughout an imaginative conception, whose -singular traits we suffer to pass from us like a fairy story, or as in -historical narrative as external detail relative to Time and Space, -and of which we can only say: "It is so," or, "Such is the tale," and -so forth. The interest of art can consequently only consist in this, -namely, that it borrow one aspect from the material which has passed -into the condition of positive externality, and make the best of -this one for an example, which sets the gods before us as concrete, -living individuals, merely retaining a distant echo of any profounder -significance. - -This positive aspect is precisely that which endows the Greek gods -with the charm of living humanity when the imagination elaborates it -anew. It is by this latter process that what is otherwise merely of -substantive import, or that of power, is thereby carried into the -individual present, which, speaking in general terms, is concentrated -to a point out of that which is truly explicit or independently actual, -and which is external and accidental, and thereby the indefinite, -which otherwise is always present in the conception of the gods, is -limited in its range and filled out in its content. We are unable to -attach any additional value to specific tales and particular traits -of characterization, for this material, which, in its earlier stage -is, when we look at its primary source, the symbolically significant, -has now only remaining the task to perfect the spiritual individuality -of the gods in their positive sensuous definition in contrast to the -human and to attach to it by virtue of a material which, in respect -to its content and envisagement, is undivine, the aspect of caprice -and chance, characteristics inseparable from concrete individuality. -Sculpture, in so far as it presents to our senses the pure ideals of -the gods, and is concerned to set before us character and expression -solely under the mode of living bodies, can least of all with -clearness make visible the final result of individualization. It does -nevertheless give real effect to it within the limits of its own -province, as we may see, for example, in the different treatment of -headdress, the mode in which the folds or locks of hair are arranged -in each particular case; and this is done not merely with a view to -symbolical interpretation but in order to individualize. In this way -Hercules has short locks, Zeus an abundant growth which rises above the -forehead, Diana quite a different folding of the hair to that of Venus. -Pallas, too, is distinguished by the Gorgo on the helmet, and the like -result is obtained by means of weapons, girdle, fillets, bracelets, and -all the variety of other external adornment. - -(_γ_) We find as a _third_ and final source of the closer definition -of divine personality the relation which this occupies to the -concrete actual world and its numerous natural phenomena, human -deeds and events. For however much we have seen that this spiritual -individuality is in part respectively to their universal essence, and -partly in respect to their particular singularity, the visible result -of earlier natural foundations which have symbolical significance, -yet it also persists, if regarded as a spiritually self-subsistent -personality, in a relation of continuous, vitality with Nature and -human existence. It is under this point of view, as we have already -intimated at length, that we have before us the imaginative flow -of the poet, an ever fertile source of particular tales, traits of -character and exploits, such as are related us about the gods. The -artistic aspect of this stage of the process consists in this, that -the divine personalities are made to blend in a vital way with human -affairs, and that the isolated nature of events are without exception -conceived in association with the universality of the divine, just -as we ourselves, for example, are wont to say, if in another sense, -of course, that this or that eventuality comes from God. Even in the -reality of everyday life, in the natural process of his existence, in -his daily wants, fears, and hopes, the Greek took refuge in his gods. -At first it was external accidents, which the priesthood accepted as -omens, and interpreted relatively to his objects and circumstances. If -distress and misfortune appeared, the priest had to explain the cause -of the affliction, to recognize the anger and disposition of the gods, -and to suggest the means by which the misfortune might be faced. The -poets proceed yet further in their interpretations for this reason, -namely, that they ascribe everything, which is related to a pathos -universal and essential, that is, the moving force in human resolve -and action, to the gods themselves and their activity; so that the -activity of mankind appears likewise as the act of the gods, who fulfil -their own counsels by means of their instrument, man. The material in -these poetical expositions is taken from the circumstances of ordinary -life, in respect to which the poet lays it down, whether this or that -god has expressed his purpose in the event which he is expounding -and asserted himself actively therein. For this reason poetry to -an exceptional extent enlarges the range of many specific stories, -which have the gods for their principal subject-matter. We may in -this connection recall to our memories several examples which we have -already used as illustrations when considering another aspect of our -subject, namely, the relation of the universal powers to the practical -pursuits of human personality. Homer places Achilles before us as the -bravest among the Greeks before Troy. This pre-eminence of his hero he -expresses by means of the statement that Achilles is invulnerable in -every portion of his body with the single exception of his heel, which -his mother was compelled to take hold of when she dipped him in the -Styx. This tale has its origin in the imagination of the poet who thus -interprets the external fact. If we accept this bluntly as though an -actual fact purported to be expressed therein which the ancients would -have believed in the same sense that we believe in any fact on the -evidence of our senses such a conclusion is a very crude one indeed. -It in short amounts to this, that Homer no less than all the Greeks -and Alexander with them who admired Achilles and praised his fortunes, -which were the main theme of the song of Homer, were simpletons. -Such a glorification must inevitably carry such a consequence if -the reflection is to hold good that the bravery of Achilles was no -difficult matter since he was aware of his invulnerability. But the -bravery is, in truth, thereby in no way abridged, because he is equally -aware of his early death, and notwithstanding never evades danger, -however it may arise. The like relation is put before us in a very -different way in the "Niebelungenlied." In that the horned Siegfried -is likewise invulnerable, but he has also in addition to this his cap -which makes him invisible. When he assists King Gunther thus invisible -in the fight of the latter with Brunhilde it becomes simply an affair -of barbaric sorcery which does not enhance very much our opinion either -of the bravery of Siegfried or King Gunther. No doubt in Homer the gods -frequently lend assistance to particular heroes; but the gods merely -appear on such occasions as the universal concept of that which man -as an individual himself is and carries out, and to carry out which -he must actively employ the entire strength of his heroic endowment. -If it had been otherwise the gods would have only found it necessary -to decimate _en masse_ the Trojan host in battle in order to complete -at once the triumph of the Greeks. Homer gives us a picture just the -reverse of this when he describes the main fight as essentially a -contest between individuals, and it is only when the press and medley -in general, when the entire mass of combatants, the collective heart -of the host clashes in fury, that Ares at length storms over the field -and gods war against gods. And this is not only generally fine and -splendid as an enhancement of the effect, but we may find in it the -profounder significance that Homer recognizes the particular heroes in -what is singular and exceptional and the universal potencies and forces -in the collective effect and the general aspect. In another connection -Homer permits Apollo to appear on the scene, when the moment arrives -which is fatal to Patroclus who is bearing the invincible armour of -Achilles[195]. Three times had Patroclus plunged into the crowded host -of the Trojans, mighty as Ares, and three times he had already slain -nine men. When he stormed there for the fourth time then it was that -the god, enveloped in obscure night, made toward him among the medley -and smote him on the back and the shoulders, tore away from him his -helmet, so that it rolled on the ground, and rang out sharply as it -struck the hoofs of the chargers; and the plumes of it were besmirched -with blood and dust, which none ever wot of before. Apollo also breaks -the brazen spear in his hands, the shield drops from his shoulders, and -his armour is loosened on him by the god. This interference of Apollo -we may accept as the poetic explanation of the circumstance, that it -is exhaustion no less than natural death which seizes upon and subdues -Patroclus in the turmoil and heat of battle at the fourth encounter. -Then it was that Euphorbus was able to thrust his spear into his -back between the shoulders. Yet one more time Patroclus endeavoured -to withdraw from the battle; but Hector had already hastened to meet -him, and thrust his spear deep into his side. Then Hector rejoiced and -mocked the sinking hero. But Patroclus, speaking in low tones, replied -that it was Zeus and Apollo who had mastered him, and withal with no -trouble, because they had taken his weapons from off his shoulders. -"Twenty men such as thou art," he exclaims, "I could have laid low with -my spear, but I am slain by fateful necessity and the hand of Apollo. -Thou, Euphorbus, hast but slain me the second time, and thou, Hector, -but the third." Here, too, we may remark that the appearance of the -gods simply points to the fact that Patroclus, albeit protected by -the armour of Achilles, becomes faint, confounded, and despite of it -slain. And this is not by any means a superstitious freak or empty play -of the imagination, or rather a statement which amounts to this[196], -that Hector's fame will be detracted from by this interposition of -Apollo, and that even Apollo does not play in the entire affair a -part which entirely redounds to his honour, since we necessarily take -into account the might of the god--speculations of this kind merely -betray a superstition of the prosaic mind as destitute of taste as it -is devoid of reason. For in every case where Homer explains specific -events by means of such appearances of the gods the gods use that -which is already immanent in the conscious life of men, the power, -that is, of their own passion and observation, or the potentialities -of the general condition in which the man is placed, the force and the -foundation of that which befalls and happens to anyone as a consequence -of such conditions If it is true that at times traits that are wholly -external and absolutely positive assert themselves in the appearance -of the gods these in their turn have a comic aspect; as in the case -when the lame Hephaestos goes round as cup-bearer. And generally we may -say that Homer never treats the reality of such appearances from first -to last seriously. At one time we see the gods in action, at another -they occupy a station of complete tranquillity. The Greeks were -fully conscious that it was the poets who were responsible for such -apparitions; and if they believed in them their belief was connected -directly with that spiritual aspect which is equally the possession -of mankind, forasmuch as it is the universal, the very active and -motive principle in the events thus presented. From whatever point of -view, therefore, we consider the matter it is clear that it is totally -unnecessary to import superstition either in our own views or in those -of the Greeks before we can enjoy such poetical representations of -their gods. - -(_b_) Such, then, is the general character of the classical Ideal, -whose broader development we shall have to consider more succinctly -when we examine the particular arts. Here we have only to add the -observation that to whatever extent either gods or men are carried -in their positive opposition to the particular and external, yet in -classical art the affirmative ethical substratum must assert itself -as maintained. The subjectivity remains throughout in union with the -substantive content of its powers. Just as in Greek art the natural -element is preserved in harmony with the spiritual and is likewise -subordinated to the ideal content, though it be as adequate existence, -the inward heart of our humanity ever presents itself also in a -thorough identity with the genuine objectivity of Spirit, in other -words, with the essential content of what is moral and true. Regarded -from this point of view, the classic Ideal is unaware of the separation -of ideality from external presentment and of the rending of the -subjective and consequently abstract individual caprice in its various -objects and passions, and it is no less so, on the other hand, of the -abstract universal as thereby created. The foundations of character -must, consequently, always be the substantive, and what is bad, sinful -and evil in the self-housed dwelling of subjectivity is excluded -from classical representations. And above all else the harshness, -wickedness, meanness, and hideousness which finds a place in romantic -art, will be wholly alien to it. It is true, we find many instances -of transgression, matricide, patricide and other crimes against the -love of family and piety treated as the subject-matter of Greek art; -but they are not here regarded simply as atrocities, or, as a little -while since it was the fashion among ourselves, as brought about by -the inscrutability of a so-called fatality which imports the appearance -of a necessary result. Rather, if such transgressions are committed -by mankind and in part ordered and defended by the gods themselves, -such actions are on every occasion presented to us from some point of -view at least in a light which declares a certain justification truly -arising out of the subject-matter itself. - -(_c_) Despite this substantive foundation we have seen the general -elaboration of the gods of classical art manifest itself out of the -repose of the Ideal within the variety of the individual and external -embodiment, in all the detail of events, occurrences, and actions, -which become ever and ever more human. By this means classical art -finally, if we consider its content, carries yet further the process -of _articulating_ the accidental individualization, when we consider -it as a mode of making the same _pleasurable_ and attractive. In other -words that which pleases is the elaboration of the particular aspect of -the external phenomenon at every point of the same; by this means the -work of art no longer arrests the spectator merely in its connection -with his own concrete soul-life, but also contains many affiliating -links with the finite aspect of his subjectivity. For it is precisely -in the finiteness of the art-creation that the closer association -subsists with that aspect of the individual which is itself finite, and -which rediscovers itself once more with satisfaction in every respect -as mobile and stable existence in the art-product. The seriousness of -the gods becomes a grace, which does not agitate with violence or lift -a man over his ordinary existence, but suffers him to persist there -tranquil, and simply claims to bring him content. Just as we generally -find that the imagination when it masters religious conceptions, and -endows them with a form appropriate to its notions of beauty, has a -tendency to make the earnest character of devotion disappear, and in -this respect destroys religion strictly as religion; so, too, this very -process moves forward at the stage we are discussing for the most part -by the addition of that which is agreeable and pleases. For it is not -by any means the substantial aspect, the significance of the gods, or -their universal character, which is evolved by virtue of what delights. -Rather it is the finite side, their sensuous existence and subjective -inward life, which purports to awake interest and provide satisfaction. -The more, therefore, the charm of the existence reproduced is the -dominant factor in its beauty to that extent the gracefulness is -disentwined from the embrace of the universal and removed from the -content, through which alone the profounder penetration could rest -satisfied. - -The transition to another province of the forms of art is closely -united with this externality and articulate definition. For under the -mode of externality reposes the manifold of the finite condition; a -manifold which, so soon as it secures a free field, asserts itself -finally in opposition to the spiritual Idea, its universality and -truth, and begins to rouse up the dissatisfaction of thought in a -reality which is no longer adequate to express it. - -[Footnote 180: Chapter XLIX.] - -[Footnote 181: I presume this is the sense of that difficult word _des -Inneren_ here.] - -[Footnote 182: By "absolute" I presume Hegel means here absolute in -the sense of predominant, masterful--activity such as the Greek artist -possessed.] - -[Footnote 183: "Iliad," I, vv. 9-12.] - -[Footnote 184: _Ibid._ vv. 94-100.] - -[Footnote 185: "Odyssey," XXIV, vv. 41-63.] - -[Footnote 186: That is, Thetis.] - -[Footnote 187: _Bestimmte sittliche Substanz._] - -[Footnote 188: _Das reine Insichseyn._] - -[Footnote 189: _Ein ewiger Ernst._] - -[Footnote 190: I presume this refers to some drapery or curtains round -the bust as exhibited.] - -[Footnote 191: This is the meaning of _Heiterkeit_ here rather than -"cheerfulness," though _Seligkeit_ is the usual word.] - -[Footnote 192: _Göttliche Universum._ A rather curious expression for, -I presume, the ideal totality of the Divine Being.] - -[Footnote 193: _Der geistigen absoluten Innerlichkeit._ Lit., "the -spiritual and absolute mode of the inward life." He refers, of course, -to Christianity, with its life of the pure in heart and the pure -reason.] - -[Footnote 194: _Besonnenheit._] - -[Footnote 195: "Iliad," XVI, vv. 783-849.] - -[Footnote 196: I very much doubt whether the words _Sondern das Gerede -allein_ can have this meaning, but the obvious meaning, "but only the -gossip," hardly makes sense. I think the sentence requires revision.] - - - - -CHAPTER III - -THE DISSOLUTION OF THE CLASSICAL TYPE OF ART - -The gods of classical art contain in themselves the germ of their -overthrow; consequently, when this fatal defect which they include is -brought to consciousness through the elaboration of art itself, they -bring about the dissolution of the classical Ideal at the same time. -We established as the principle of this, so far as we have here to -deal with it, that kind of spiritual individuality which secures in -every respect an adequate expression in bodily or external existence -immediate to our senses. This individuality was enclosed within a -complex of divine personalities, whose definition is not essentially -and withal from the first given up to the contingent condition in which -the everlasting gods receive the appearance of dissolution for man's -conscious life no less than for his artistic creation. - -1. FATE OR DESTINY - -It is true that sculpture in its complete plastic perfection accepts -the gods as substantive potencies, and endows them with a form in whose -beauty they in the first instance repose in security, for the reason -that the accidental character, of their external envisagement is to -the least extent emphasized. Their _multiplicity_ and _distinction_ -does in fact, however, constitute this element of contingency, and -thought annuls this in the determinate conception of _one_ divinity, -through whose inevitable power they are mutually at war with and to -the detriment of each other. For however universal the power of every -particular god is conceived as specific individuality, such is of a -restricted range. Add to this the fact that the gods do not continue -in their eternal repose; they are self-determined relatively to -particular aims in actual movement through their being drawn hither -and thither by the pre-existing conditions and collisions of concrete -reality, in order at one time to afford assistance and at another -to obstruct or destroy. These isolated relations in which the gods -as active individuals participate contain within them an element of -contingency, which impairs the substantive nature of the divine, -however much the same may persist as the predominant substratum, and -involves the gods in the contradictions and conflicts of a limited -finitude. By reason of this finiteness immanent in the gods themselves -they fall into contradiction with the loftiness, worth, and beauty of -their existence, through which, too, they are eventually brought down -to the level of mere caprice and chance. The genuine Ideal evades the -complete appearance of this contradiction simply and in so far as--this -is preeminently the case in true sculpture and its particular creations -as we find them in temples--the divine personalities are represented as -explicitly alone in the repose of blessedness, yet retain, as we have -already above indicated, a certain aspect of lifelessness, somewhat -aloof from all emotion, and withal that quiet characteristic of -pathetic lament. It is just this mournfulness which exposes their fate -by demonstrating that something of higher import stands above them, and -the passage from the particularities of form to their comprehending -unity is a necessary one. If, however, we fix our attention on the type -and configuration of this loftier unity we shall find that it is, as -contrasted with the individuality and relative determination of the -gods, the essentially abstract and formless--the necessity, the fate, -which under this mode of abstraction the higher can only in general -terms be, and which constrains both gods and men, while remaining in -itself incomprehensible and inconceivable. Fate is not as yet absolute -and self-subsistent end, and thereby at the same time subjective, -personal, divine purpose, but merely the one and universal Power which -transcends the particularity of the different gods, and consequently is -unable to be presented itself as individual entity; because otherwise -it would simply appear as one among many individuals, and would stand -above them. For this reason it remains without form and individuality, -and is in this abstraction merely necessity and nothing more; with -which gods no less than men, when they differentiate themselves as -separate from one another, contend. And thus they give effect to their -individual power condemned though it be to limitations, and would fain -exalt themselves over the bounds and warrant of Fate, though they -are, in fact, its subjects, and are forced to hearken to all that -unalterably befalls them. - - -2. THE DISSOLUTION OF THE GODS THROUGH THEIR ANTHROPOMORPHISM - -For the reason, then, that the principle of self-determinate -Necessity[197] does not appertain to the particular gods, does not -supply in other words the content of their self-determination, and -only floats over them as an undefined abstraction, the aspect of their -insularity as individuals has consequently free play and is unable to -escape from Destiny, is moreover at liberty to branch out into the -external fabric of the human condition, into the finite consistency of -anthropomorphism, possibilities which convert the gods into the reverse -of that condition which truly constitutes the notion of what they are -essentially and in virtue of their divine nature. The overthrow of -these gods of beauty is consequently quite inevitably brought about for -art through their own nature. The human consciousness is at last quite -unable to find repose in them, and is fain compelled to take leave of -them. And, moreover, if we look more closely we shall find that the -mode and type of Greek anthropomorphism supplies us with a general -example of how the gods vanish away from the faiths of religion no less -than those of poetry. - -(_a_) Spiritual individuality here makes its appearance in the human -form, it is true, as Ideal; but for all that it is in the immediately -visible, that is, the bodily presence, not within humanity in all its -essential explication, under the mode in which it is conscious of -itself in its own self-conscious world as distinct from God, while in -the same breath it annuls the distinction, and is, by its own act, as -one with God, essentially infinite and absolute self-consciousness. - -(_α_) For this reason the plastic Ideal is unable to present itself -as infinite self-conscious spirituality. These plastic shapes of -beauty are not merely stone and bronze, but also the infinite form of -subjective life vanishes from them in their content and expression. -We may become as enthusiastic as we please over their beauty and art, -but for all that our _enthusiasm_ is and remains something native -to our own souls; it is not really at home in the objects which it -thus contemplates, that is in the gods themselves. To complete the -true totality a real reciprocity is required on this side also of the -subjective, self-knowing unity and infinity; it is this, and only this, -that unfolds our conception of a living God of knowledge, and of men -who thus apprehend Him. If this totality is not also essentially and -with adequacy conformable to the content and nature of the Absolute, -then the Absolute will itself appear not as truly a subject of -spiritual being, and its presentment will confront us merely in its -objective form without the possession of self-conscious Spirit. It is -quite true, no doubt, that the individuality of the gods retains the -content of subjectivity, but merely under modes that are contingent, -and in a process of development,' which moves independently outside -that substantive repose and blessedness of the gods. - -(_β_) On the other hand, the subjectivity which is opposed to the -gods of plastic art is also not the form of conscious life which is -essentially eternal and true. In other words, this latter is--as we -shall see for ourselves more clearly in our consideration of the third -type of art, the romantic--that which has before it the objectivity to -which it is conformable under the mode of an essentially infinite and -self-knowing God. Inasmuch, however, as the knowing subject, at the -stage we are now discussing, does not consciously conceive itself as -present in the perfections of these godlike figures, nor even in its -contemplation of such objects is aware of itself as circumstantially -objective, it is still wholly distinct and separate from its absolute -object, and is consequently a purely contingent and finite subjectivity. - -(_γ_) We might possibly suppose that the passage into a higher sphere -of reality would have been emphasized by the imagination and art as a -further war among the gods, in a way analogous, in fact, to the first -transition from the symbolism of the gods of Nature to the spiritual -Ideals of classical art. This is by no means the case. On the contrary, -this translation is carried forward in a wholly different field, as a -conflict brought home to consciousness between absolute reality and -the present world. For this reason art, in its relation to the higher -content, which it has to seize under new modes, occupies an entirely -altered position. This new configuration does not assert its importance -as revelation by means of Art, but is made manifest independently -without it, and appears on the prosaic ground of controversial and -rational discussion, and from thence is within the soul and its -religious emotions, mainly by means of miracle, martyrdoms, and so -on, carried into the world of subjective knowledge, together with a -consciousness of the contradiction between all that is finite and -the Absolute, which unfolds itself in actual history as the process -of events toward a Present which is not merely imagined, but is the -_fact_ we have before us. The Divine, God Himself, becomes flesh, is -born, lives, suffers, dies, and rises from the dead. This is a content -which heart did not discover, but which, quite apart from it, was a -present fact, and which consequently it has not borrowed from its own -domain, but merely supplies a form to it. That old transition and war -of the gods, on the contrary, discovered its origins in the artistic -or imaginative view of the world simply, which created its wisdom and -plastic shapes from its inner life, and gave to astonished mankind his -new gods. For this reason the classic gods also have only received -their existence through the fiat of the imagination, and merely exist -as such in stone and bronze, or in the world open to the senses, -not, however, in flesh and blood, or in very and actual Spirit. The -anthropomorphism of the Greek gods is therefore without real human -existence, that of body no less than that of Spirit. It is Christianity -which first introduces us to this reality in flesh and blood as the -determinate existence, life, and activity of God Himself. Consequently -this bodily form, this flesh, however much also the purely natural and -sensuous is recognized as a negation therein, receives its due and -honour, and that which partakes of anthropomorphism here is sanctified. -Even as man originally was made in the image of God, God is an image -of man; whoso beholdeth the Son beholdeth the Father, and whoso loveth -the Son loveth the Father. In a word, God is acknowledged as present -in the actual world. This new content, then, is not brought home to -consciousness by means of the conceptions of art, but is presented from -an exterior source as an actual occurrence, as the history of the God -who became flesh. A transition such as this could not take its point of -departure from Art; the contrast between the old and the new would have -been too disparate. The God of revealed religion, in respect to content -and form, is very God in truth, in contrast with whom all rivals would -become mere creations of the imagination, whom it would be quite -impossible to compare with Him on equal terms. The old and new gods of -classical art, on the contrary, originate in both cases independently -from the ground of the imagination. They have only such reality from -the finite Spirit as enables them to be conceived and represented as -potencies of Nature and Spirit; the contradiction and conflict they -declare, is taken seriously. If, however, the transition from the Greek -gods to the God of Christendom were portrayed in the first instance by -Art, the representation of such a war of gods could not in this direct -form be enforced in all seriousness. - -(_b_) Consequently this strife and transition becomes also, in more -recent times, primarily an accidental, isolated subject-matter of art, -which can claim to create no true epoch, and has been able in this form -to embody no fundamental phase in the line of the entire development -of art. We will recall here in this connection, if incidentally, a -few of the more famous examples of this nature. We frequently hear -in more recent times the lament over the submergence of Greek art, -and a yearning towards Greek gods and heroes is not infrequently the -theme of our poets[198]. This lamentation is expressed emphatically -as in direct opposition to Christendom; and though it is, no doubt, -generally granted that it contains the higher truth, the qualification -is added that, so far as art is concerned, the transition is only -to be regretted. This is the theme of Schiller's "Gods of Greece"; -and it is worth our while, even in the present inquiry, to consider -this poem, not merely as poetry in the beauty of its exposition, its -musical rhythm, its vivid pictures, or in the charm of its regretful -mood, which was the motive force in its creation, but also in order to -examine the content. Schiller's pathos is always true, no less than -poignant, and the result of profound reflection. - -It is perfectly true that the Christian religion contains, and may -justly claim to accentuate, a certain phase of art; but in the due -course of its development, at the time of the Aufklärung[199], it -has also reached a point where we find that thought, or rather the -Understanding[200], has driven into the background that element, -which art pre-eminently requires, the actual human envisagement and -revelation of God. For the human form and all that it expresses and -declares, human events, actions, feeling, is the form under which art -is forced to conceive and represent the content of Spirit. Inasmuch as -the Understanding has converted God into a mere fact of thought, no -longer crediting the appearance of His Spirit in concrete reality, and -thus has alienated the God of Thought from all actual existence, this -type of religious Illumination has necessarily accepted conceptions -and requirements which are intolerable to Art. When, however, the -Understanding is raised once more from the region of these abstractions -into that of Reason, the need at once asserts itself for something -more concrete, and withal for that kind of concreteness which Art -itself unfolds. The period of the illuminating Understanding has, no -doubt, possessed an art of its own, but only of very prosaic type, -as we may even find it in Schiller, whose point of departure was -precisely that of such a period of criticism; later on, however, -owing to his realization how little reason, imagination, and passion -were satisfied by the critical Understanding, he experienced a deep -longing for art, in the fullest sense of the term, and primarily for -the classical art of the Greeks and their gods, and general views of -the world. It is from this kind of yearning, a reaction, in short, -from the mere abstractions of the mind, that the poem referred to -originated. According to the original draft of the poem, Schiller's -attitude to Christianity is entirely polemical; afterwards he modified -it considerably, no doubt realizing that its _animus_ was only directed -against the critical aspect of the Illumination, which at a later time -itself began to lose its importance. In the first instance he praises -the Greek point of view as fortunate in that the whole of Nature was a -thing of Life to it, and full of divinities. After that he reviews the -Present and its prosaic conception of natural law, and the position man -here takes relatively to God: - -/$ - Diese traur'ge Stille - Kündigt sie mir meinen Schöpfer an? - Finster wie er selbst ist seine Hülle, - Mein _Entsagen_, was ihn feiern kann[201]. -$/ - -No doubt resignation is an essential characteristic in the evolution -of the Christian life; but it is only in the monkish conception of it -that it requires he should cut off from himself his soul, his emotions, -the so-called impulses of his Nature, and should not incorporate his -life in the moral, rational, actual world, the family and the State; -and it does so precisely as the Illumination and its Deism, which -presupposes that God is unknowable, imposes on mankind the extremest -form of resignation, namely, that of abandoning all effort either to -know or conceive Him. In any true exposition of Christian doctrine, -resignation is, on the contrary, merely a phasal moment of mediation, a -point of transition, in which that which is purely natural, sensuous, -and in general terms finite, strips off this its incompatible nature in -order to permit Spirit to attain the loftier freedom and reconciliation -of its own possessions, a freedom and blessedness which was unknown -to the Greeks. In Christianity as thus understood we are not entitled -to speak of the celebration of the one God, of the bare seclusion of -Himself, and the cutting ourselves adrift from an ungodly world, for it -is precisely in this spiritual freedom and reconciliation of Spirit -that God is immanent, and from this point of view the famous lines of -Schiller: - -/$ - Da die Göttes menschlicher noch waren, - Waren Menschen göttlicher[202]. -$/ - -is absolutely false. We must for this very reason emphasize the later -alteration made in the concluding lines which refer thus to the Greek -gods: - -/$ - Aus der Zeitfluh weggerissen schweben - Sie gerettet auf des Pindus Höhn; - Was unsterblich im Gesang soll leben, - Muss im Leben untergehn[203]. -$/ - -These words support entirely the assertion we have made above that -the Greek gods could only be localized in the mental conception and -imagination; they were neither able to affirm such a position in the -reality of life, nor satisfy in the long run finite spirit. - -Of another sort is the opposition of Parny to Christianity--a poet -named the French Tibullus on account of his successful elegies--which -is conspicuous in a prolix poem of ten cantos, a kind of epic poem -entitled "La Guerre des Dieux," as an attempt made to bring ridicule -upon Christian conceptions in the interests of jest and comedy carried -out in a tone of unrestrained frivolity, yet withal marked by good -humour and considerable talent. The sallies of wit here are not, -however, carried beyond the point of levity; we have few traces of -the wanton disregard of things that are sacred and of the highest -excellence such as marks the period of Frederick von Schlegel's -"Lucinde." The Virgin Mary no doubt is treated very badly in this poem. -The monks, Dominicans and Franciscans, yield to the seductions of wine -and Bacchanals, and the nuns do much the same with Fauns, and the -result is sufficiently shocking. Finally, however, the gods of the old -world are vanquished and withdraw from Olympus to Parnassus. - -As a concluding illustration Goethe in his "Bride of Corinth" has -more profoundly depicted in a vivacious picture the banishment of -love, not so much as the result of any true principle of Christianity -as the misconceived interpretation of resignation and sacrifice. The -poet here contrasts that false asceticism which seeks to condemn the -determination of a woman to be wife and rates that enforced celibacy -as something more holy than marriage with the natural feelings of -mankind. Just as we find in Schiller the opposition between the Greek -imagination and the critical abstractions of our modern Enlightenment, -so we may detect here the Hellenistic ethical and sensuous -justifications in the matter of love and marriage, placed in direct -contrast to ideas which can only claim to belong to the Christian -religion when regarded from a wholly one-sided and therefore incorrect -point of view. With the greatest art a really horrible tone dominates -the entire work; and the principal reason is this, that it remains -quite uncertain whether the action has reference to a real maiden, or -a dead one, a living reality or a ghost; and in the metre of the verse -itself in an equally masterly way the threads of light foolery and -seriousness are so interwoven as to make the uncanniness still more -effective. - -(_c_) Before, however, we attempt to gauge in its profundity the new -type of art, whose opposition to the old does not come into the course -of Art's development, so far, at least, as we here have undertaken to -follow it along its fundamental lines, we must in the first instance -make clear for ourselves that other transition in its earliest form, -which attaches to antique art itself. The principle of this transition -consists in this, that the Spirit whose individuality hitherto has been -contemplated as in harmony with the true subsistency of Nature and -human life, and which, in respect to its own life, volition, and acts, -was consciously at home in that accord, begins now to withdraw itself -into the infinite subjectivity of its essence, but instead of the true -infinity is only able to secure a purely formal and indeed still finite -return upon itself. - -If we look more closely at the concrete conditions which correspond to -the principle indicated, we shall see, we have already done so, that -the Greek gods possess as their content the substantive _materiae_ of -real human life and action. Over and above the vision of the gods we -have now the highest mode of determination, the universal interest and -the end in determinate life, that is to say, presented at the same -time as an existing fact. Just as it was essential to the spiritual -configuration of Greek art to appear both as external and real, so, -too, the spiritual growth of mankind in its absolute significance -has elaborated itself in a reality that both externally appears and -is real, with whose substance and universality the individual has -put forward a claim to be in accordant fusion. This highest end was -in Greece the life of the State, the collective body of citizens and -their morality and living patriotism. Outside this supreme interest -there was no other more lofty or true. The life of the State, however, -as an external phenomenon of the world, fades into the Past, as do -the conditions of the entire reality of the outside world. It is not -difficult to demonstrate that a State under the type of such a freedom, -so immediately identical with all its citizens, which as such already -possess in their grasp the highest activity in all public transactions, -is inevitably small and weak, and in part must prove suicidal to -itself, in part fall into ruins in the natural course of the history -of nations. In other words, by reason of this immediate coalescence of -individual life with the universality of State-life, on the one hand -we find that the peculiar idiosyncrasies of spiritual experience and -its particular aspects as private life do not receive their full dues, -nor do they receive sufficient opportunity for a development innocuous -to society at large. Rather, as distinct from the concrete substance, -into which it has not been accepted, such a nature remains simply the -limited and natural egoism, which goes on its own way independently, -pursues its interests however much they are alien to the true interest -of the whole, and, consequently, is an instrument to the ruin of -the State, against which, in the last resort, it strains to oppose -its individual forces. On the other hand within the circle of this -freedom itself the need of a higher personal liberty is roused, which -not merely in the State, as the substantive totality, nor merely in -the accepted code of morals and law, but in the very soul of the man -himself asserts its claim to exist, in so far as he is ready to give -life to goodness and rectitude out of the wealth of his own nature and -in the light of his own personal knowledge, and to recognize the same -at its real worth. The individual subject demands of consciousness that -it should be, in virtue of its claim as self-identity, a substantive -whole. Consequently there arises in this freedom a new breach between -the end of the State and that of the man's own personal welfare as -essentially free himself. Such a conflict as this had already begun in -the time of Socrates, while on the other side the vanity, self-seeking -and unbridled character of democracy and demagogy corrupted the true -State to such a degree that men like Plato and Xenophon experienced a -loathing for the internal condition of their mother-city, where the -direction of all public transactions lay in the hands of those who were -either frivolous, or those who sought nothing but personal aims. - -The spirit of this transition, therefore, depends in the first -instance on the general line of severation between Spirit in its -unfolded self-subsistency and external existence. The spiritual in -this separation from its reality, in which it no longer finds itself -reflected, is then the abstract mode of Spirit; it is not, however, the -one Oriental god, but on the contrary the actual self-knowing conscious -subject, which brings to the fore and retains within the clasp of -its ideal subjectivity all that is universal in thought, truth, -goodness, and morality, and possesses therein not so much the knowledge -of a pre-existing reality as simply the content of its thoughts -and convictions. This relation, in so far as it persists in this -opposition, and sets up the two aspects of the same as purely opposites -to one another, would be of an entirely prosaic character. We do not, -however, at this stage as yet arrive at this point of bare prose. In -other words it is true that on the one hand we have a consciousness -present, which as self-secure, wills the Good, the fulfilment of its -desires, conceives the reality of its notion in the virtue of its -emotional life, much as we find it thus imaged in the ancient gods, -morals, and laws. At the same time, however, this consciousness is -split up in opposition to its existence as part of existing Life, in -other words the actual political life of the time, the dissolution -of the old modes of conception, the former type of patriotism and -political wisdom, and adheres thereby unquestionably to that opposition -between the inward life of soul and the real environment outside it. -And the reason of this hesitancy is this that the bare conceptions -of genuine ethical truth which it derives from its own inner world -are unable to fully satisfy it; it consequently faces that which is -exterior to this, to which it relates itself in a negative and hostile -spirit with the object of changing it. This consciousness is, as -already stated, on the one hand no doubt an inward and present content, -which, self-determined and at the same time deliberately articulate, -is concerned with a world that confronts it, to which this content is -opposed, and which receives the task to depict this same reality in -the semblance of the very traits of the corruption peculiar to that -world, and which form such a contrast with its own ideas of goodness -and truth. From another point of view this very contrast is cancelled -by art itself. In other words, another type of art arises, in which the -conflict of this opposition is not emphasized through the medium of -mere thoughts, remaining thus in its disunion; but this reality in the -very folly of its corruption is itself submitted to a mode of artistic -presentation, which exposes it as self-destructive, and exposes it in -such a way that it is precisely in and through this self-destructive -process of what is of no weight that truth is enabled to assert itself -upon this mirror as the secure and endurable power, and thereby all the -force of a direct opposition to what is essentially true is removed -from that side represented by folly and unreasonableness. This art is -comedy, of the type Aristophanes dramatized for his fellow-citizens, -connecting it closely with all that was essential in the world around -him, and doing so with equanimity[204], in a mood of pure and hearty -joviality. - - -3. SATIRE - -We may, however, observe that this resolution of art, despite its -adequacy, tends to disappear to this extent, that the contradictory -antithesis persists in the form of its _opposition_, and, consequently, -instead of the poetic reconciliation a prosaic relation is imported, -by means of which the classical type of art appears to be annulled, and -the gods of plastic shape no less than the entire world of human beauty -vanish with it. We have, then, now to look about us for a form of art, -which is able to reclothe itself from the ruins of this overthrow in -a loftier configuration and to extract the real significance which it -implies. We discovered as the terminating point of symbolic art in -the same way that the separation of pure form from its significance -was emphasized in a variety of modes such as simile, fable, parable, -riddle, and the like. Inasmuch as the severation above adverted to is -causally responsible for the dissolution of that art-type, in a similar -way the question arises what is the nature of the distinction between -our present example of transition as contrasted with the previous one. -The distinction is as follows: - -(_a_) In the truly symbolic and comparative type of art the form and -significance are from the very first, despite the affinity of their -relationship, alien to one another; they are placed, however, in no -mere negative, but rather in amicable relationship; for it is precisely -the qualities and traits which are identical to or resemble each other -on the two sides which assert themselves as the causal basis of their -conjunction and comparison. Their persistent separation and hostility -is consequently within the bounds of this union neither, relatively to -the separated aspects, of a _hostile_ character, nor is a blending of -the same, within essentially narrow limits, thereby removed from them. -The Ideal of classical art, on the contrary, proceeds from the perfect -interfusion of significance and form, the ideal individuality of spirit -and its external conformation; and when the composite aspects which -have been brought together in such a consummated unity are disrupted, -this disruption takes place simply because they are unable any longer -to cohere one with the other, and are absolutely compelled to start -forth from their peaceful state of harmony in disunion and hostility. - -(_b_) Together with this way of looking at the relation in contrast -to that of symbolic art we may add that the _content_ of both sides -is altered, as they now stand in opposition. To put it thus we may -say that, in the symbolic type of art, it is abstractions more or -less, general thoughts, or at least definite phrases in the form of -generalities peculiar to reflective thought, which, by means of the -symbolic type of art, receive a sensuous embodiment replete with -suggestion. In the form, however, which makes itself predominant in -this transition to romantic art the content, it is true, is made up -of a similar abstraction of general thoughts, opinions, and maxims of -reflective reason, but in this case it is not these abstractions in -themselves, but rather their presence in the _individual's_ mind and -his self-subsistent identity which furnish the content for one side of -the opposition. For the primary requirement of this mediating stage -consists in this, that the spiritual which has attained the Ideal, -shall stand forth in its entire independence. Already in classical -art we found that spiritual individuality was of chief importance, -albeit on the side of its realization it remained reconciled with a -determinate existence as immediately presented. What is of importance -now is to declare a mode of subjectivity which strives to acquire the -mastery over the form that is no longer adequate to it, in a word, over -external reality. In this way the world of Spirit becomes liberated as -independent. It recovers itself from bondage to the sensuous material -and manifests itself thereby through this return upon its own resources -as the subject of a self-consciousness which only finds contentment -in the secret wealth of its own domain. This subject, however, which -repels externality from itself, is not in respect to its ideal aspect -yet the truly concrete totality which encloses as content the Absolute -under the mode of self-conscious spiritual life; rather it is, as still -fettered by its opposition to reality, a purely abstract, finite, -and unsatisfied form of subjectivity. In opposition to this we have -confronting it an equally finite mode of reality, which on its part is -also independent, but just for that very reason--forasmuch, that is, -as the truth of Spirit has withdrawn from it into its own ideality and -henceforward neither will nor can identity itself with it, appears as -a reality void of all gods and an existence fallen into rottenness. In -this manner and at this point art brings forward a Spirit that thinks, -that is, to repeat our former analysis, the individual consciousness -of our humanity, which, supporting itself on its own possession of the -abstract knowledge and volition of goodness and virtue, confronts -with hostility therewith the corruption of its present environment. -That aspect of this opposition which remains unresolved, and in which -the ideal and external modes of its antithesis persist in their -disruption, constitutes the element of prose in the mutual relation of -the two sides. A noble mind or a virtuous soul to whom the realization -of self-conscious life is denied in a world of vice and folly, turns -away from the existence which thus confronts him with passionate -indignation, or more subtle wit and more frosty bitterness, and either -is wroth with or scorns a world which gives the lie direct to his -abstract notions of virtue and truth. - -The type of art which accepts this sudden outburst of opposition -between a subjectivity still finite in its mode and a degenerate world -outside it as its matter is the _Satire_, the ordinary theories as to -which have little to commend them, for the simple reason that they -break down precisely where we look for their assistance. Satire has -nothing to do with epic poetry, and it has just as little affinity -with lyric. In the Satire it is not the life of the emotional nature -which is expressed; rather the general conception of goodness and what -is essentially needful, which it no doubt blends with the particular -aspect of soul-life[205], appears as the virtuousness of this or that -individual; but this does not suffer itself to be enjoyed in the open -and unhampered beauty of imaginative conception or let that enjoyment -issue freely. Rather with discontent it retains the existing discord -between the writer's own state of mind and its abstract principles -and the empirical reality which mocks them. To this extent satire -is neither a genuine creation of the poet nor a real work of art. -For these reasons the point of view of the satirical poem can never -be reached satisfactorily through those other types of poetry just -mentioned; it must be apprehended in a more general way as the example -of this very transitional form we referred to from the classic Ideal. - -(_c_) Inasmuch, then, as it is, relatively to its ideal content, the -prosaic resolution of the Ideal, which asserts itself mainly in -satire, we do not find that Greece, which is pre-eminently the native -land of Beauty, is the place where we must look for it. Satirical -poems of the nature above described are the characteristic possession -of Rome. The spirit of the Roman world is the sovereignty of the -abstract Ideal, the law that is dead, the shipwreck of beauty and of -the joyousness of civic life, the suppression of the family in the -sense that it is the immediate and most natural form of morality, and -generally the sacrifice of individuality, which surrenders itself -wholly to the State, and in obedience to the abstract law is satisfied -with the frost-like sense of political worth and critical satisfaction -which it supplies. The principle of this civic virtue, the cold-blooded -harshness of which subjects to its pleasure all alien peoples, while -the formal rectitude of the personal life is elaborated to the furthest -point of consistency on equally rigid lines, is wholly inconsonant -with genuine art. We find, therefore, even in Rome no art that is at -once conspicuous in its beauty, freedom, and greatness. It is from -the Greeks that the Romans borrowed all that they mastered whether -in sculpture or painting, epic, lyric, or dramatic poetry. It is a -remarkable fact that all that we can point to as the native product of -Latin art is comic farces, whereas the more cultivated types of comedy, -not excluding those of Plautus and Terence, are borrowed from Greece, -and are rather an affair of imitation than independent production. -Even Ennius first exhausted the sources of Greek poetry before he -made mythology prosaic. That type of art is alone native to the Latin -genius, which was essentially itself prosaic, the didactic poem, for -example, more particularly when it contains an ethical content, and -endows its general reflections with the purely exterior adornment of -metre, images, similes, and a rhetorically beautiful diction. But above -all other forms thus excepted we place the satire. Here we find it is -the mood of virtuous exasperation over the surrounding world which -strives to air itself in what is, in some measure, hollow declamations. -We can only call this essentially prosaic type of art poetical in so -far as it brings before the vision the corrupted nature of real life -in such a way that this corruption practically falls to pieces as the -result of its own folly. Just as Horace, who as a lyric poet entirely -identified himself by study with the artistic type and manner of -Greece, in his epistles and satires--where we have his originality -more emphasized--traces for us a living picture of the morals of his -age, by depicting follies which are self-destructive by virtue of the -stupidity, that carries them into effect. Nevertheless, even this -example only presents us with a kind of merriment that for all its keen -and educated sense can barely be classed as poetry, the object in the -main being to make ridicule out of that which is bad. Among others, on -the contrary, we find that the abstract conception of rectitude and -virtue is deliberately contrasted with vice; and in this case it is -exasperation, anger, hate, and scorn, which in some measure expatiate -in formal eloquence over virtue and wisdom, and in part give full rein -to the indignation of a soul of more nobility against the dissolution -and servility of the times, or hold up before the vices of the day the -mirror of the old morality, the former liberty, the virtues of a state -of the world which has passed away, without any genuine hope and belief -in their recovery; or rather one which has nothing to oppose to the -tottering gait, the dilemmas, the need and danger of an ignominious -present, save a stoical equanimity and the unshakable conscience of a -virtuous soul. Roman history and philosophy not unfrequently receive -something of the same tone from a mood of this kind. Sallust must -needs express himself strongly against the corruptions of morals, -being himself very considerably affected by them. Livy, despite his -rhetorical elegance, seeks for comfort and satisfaction in his picture -of the good old days. Above all we have Tacitus, who, with a severe -melancholy as grand in its scope as it was profound, without the -baldness of declamation, indignantly exposes in the clearest relief -the evils of his time. Among the satirists Persius is remarkable for -his acerbity, with a bitter edge more keen than that of Juvenal. Later -on we find bringing up the rear the Greek Syrian Lucian giving free -vent to his witticisms and pleasantry against all things, whether -heroes, philosophers, or gods; and with exceptional prominence passing -in review the ancient gods of Greece on the score of their humanity -and individuality. However, only too often he goes no further in his -tittle-tattle than the mere external aspect of these godlike figures -and their actions, and is for that reason wearisome to modern readers. -For, on the one hand, so far as our convictions are concerned, we have -already disposed of all that he would destroy, and on the other we are -aware that, despite all his jests and mockery, these characteristic -traits of Greek divinities, when contemplated under the aspect of -beauty, still retain their eternal significance. - -Nowadays satirical poems are not likely to prove a success. Cotta and -Goethe have proposed competitions in this form of composition, but no -poems of note are forthcoming. Certain fixed principles are bound up -with it, with which the present age is not in harmony; a wisdom which -is devoid of content, a virtue which adheres with inflexible obstinacy -to its own resources and nothing beyond, may very possibly contrast -itself with the actual world, but is quite unable to bring about the -truly poetical resolution of what is false and repugnant, and effect -the genuine reconciliation in the truth. - -In one word, Art is unable to persist in this breach between the -abstract conceptions of the inward life and the objective world -around, without proving itself false to its own principle. The -subjective realm of the soul must be conceived as that which is itself -an essentially infinite and independent existence, which, albeit it -is unable to suffer the finite reality to subsist as Truth itself, -nevertheless does not merely assert itself negatively toward the same -in a bare contradiction, but proceeds all the while on the path of -reconciliation, and for the first time, in its opposition to the ideal -individualities of the classical art-form, declares this very activity, -being in fact the presentment of the absolute mode of self-conscious -life. - -[Footnote 197: Lit. "the essentially-and-for-itself-necessary."] - -[Footnote 198: Hölderlin, and of course Goethe no less than Schiller, -would be included. With our moderns such as Swinburne the admission is -less obvious than the qualification.] - -[Footnote 199: _Die Aufklärung._ That is, the end of the eighteenth -century; usually translated as illumination or enlightenment.] - -[Footnote 200: _Verstand_, the faculty of science and common sense.] - -[Footnote 201: - -/$ - What! doth this same stillness tell me sadly - All I know of Him who voiced creation? - Dark as e'en the veil that hides Him from me - Is my heart's salute of resignation. -$/ -] - -[Footnote 202: - -/$ - Since the gods were then more human - Men were more in image godlike. -$/ -] - -[Footnote 203: - -/$ - Wrested from the flood of Time's abysses - Saved they float above high Pindus now; - All that was immortal life within them - Lives in song, all other life must go. -$/ -] - -[Footnote 204: _Zornlos_ lit., without anger.] - -[Footnote 205: I think this is the meaning of the words _mit -subjectiver Besonderheit_, but the interpretation "with other material -peculiar to the writer" is not impossible.] - - - - -SUBSECTION III - -THE ROMANTIC TYPE OF ART - -INTRODUCTION - -OF THE ROMANTIC GENERALLY - -The type of romantic art receives its definition, as we have hitherto -throughout the present inquiry seen was always the case, from the ideal -notion of the content, which it is the function of art to declare. -We must consequently in the first place attempt to elucidate the -distinctive principle of the new content, a content which now, in its -significance as the absolute content of truth, opens up to our minds a -new vision of the world no less than a novel configuration of art. - -In the _first_ stage of our inquiry, the entrance chamber of art, -the impulse of imagination consisted in the struggle from Nature to -spiritual expression. In this strain Spirit never reached beyond -what was still only an effort to find, an effort which, in so far as -it was not yet able to supply a genuine content for art, could only -maintain its position as an external embodiment of the significant -aspects of Nature, or those abstractions of the ideal inwardness -of substance which were destitute of a subjective character in the -strict sense, and in which this type of art found its real centre. The -_reverse_ of this point of view we discovered in classical art. Here -it is spirituality--albeit it is only by virtue of the abrogation of -the significances of Nature that it is enabled to struggle forth in -its independent self-identity--which is the basis and principle of -the content, with the natural phenomenon in the bodily or sensuous -material for its external form. This embodiment, however, did not, -as was the case in the first stage, remain superficial, indefinite, -and unsuffused by its content; but the perfection of art attained -its culminating point by precisely this means, namely, that Spirit -completely transpierced its exterior appearance, idealized the shell -of Nature in this union of beauty, and drew round itself a reality -adequate to its own nature as mind under the mode of substantive -individuality. By this means classical art was a presentation of the -Ideal which completely satisfied its notion, the consummation of the -realm of beauty. More beautiful art than this can neither exist now nor -hereafter. - -But for all that we may have an art that is more lofty in its aim than -this lovely revelation of Spirit in its immediate sensuous form, if -at the same time one that is created by the mind as adequate to its -own nature. For this coalition, which perfects itself in the medium of -what is external, and thereby makes sensible reality its adequate and -determinate existence, necessarily runs counter to the true notion of -Spirit, and drives it forth from its reconciliation in the bodily shape -upon its own essential substance to seek further reconciliation in that -alone. The simple and unriven totality of the Ideal is dissolved, and -breaks up into one of twofold aspect, namely, that of the essentially -subjective life and its exterior semblance, in order to enable mind, -by means of this severation, to win the profounder reconciliation -in its own most proper element. In one word, Spirit, which has for -its principle the mode of entire self-sufficiency, the union of its -notion with its reality--is only able to discover an existence that -wholly corresponds to such a principle in its own spiritual world of -emotion, soul, that is to say, in the inward life where it feels at -home. The human spirit becomes aware that it must possess its Other, -its _existence_, as Spirit, which it appropriates as its own and what -it verily is, and by doing so at length enjoys its own infinity and -freedom. - -1. This elevation of Spirit to its _own substance_, through which it -attains its objectivity--which it would otherwise be obliged to seek -for in the external environment of its existence within its own self -and in this union with itself both feels and knows itself--is what -constitutes the fundamental principle of romantic art. With this truth -we may join as a corollary thereto that for this concluding stage the -beauty of the classic Ideal, or in other words beauty in its most -uniquely consonant form and its most conformable content, is no longer -regarded as ultimate. For in arriving at the point of romantic art, -Spirit[206] becomes aware that its truth is not fully attained by a -self-absorption in the material of sense. On the contrary, it only -comes fully to the knowledge of that truth by withdrawing itself out -of that medium into the inward being of its own substance, whereby it -deliberately affirms the inadequacy of external reality as a mode of -its existence. It is owing to this that when this new content is set -the essential task of making itself an object of beauty, the beauty, in -the meaning of the terms under which we have met with it before, only -persists as a subordinate mode, and the new conception of it becomes -the _spiritual_ beauty of what is its own ideality made fully explicit, -in other words, the subjectivity of Spirit essentially infinite in its -mode. - -In order, however, that mind may attain the infinity which belongs -to it it must transcend at the same time purely formal and _finite_ -personality and rise into the measure of the _Absolute._ That is to -say, Spirit must declare itself as fulfilled with that which is out -and out substantive, and in doing so proclaim itself as a self-knowing -and self-willing subject. Conversely, therefore, what is substantive -and true is no longer to be apprehended as a mere "beyond" relatively -to our humanity, and the anthropomorphism of the Greek view of things -can be struck out; and in the place of this we have humanity as very -and real subjectivity affirmed as the principle, and by virtue of this -change, as we have already seen, anthropomorphism for the first time -reflects a truth of complete and final validity. - -2. We have now in a general way to develop the range of subject-matter, -no less than its form, from the earliest phases in the evolution of -this principle, whose configuration, as it thus changes, is conditioned -by the new content of romantic art. - -The true principle of the romantic content is absolute inwardness[207], -and the form which corresponds to it, the subjectivity of mind, meaning -by this the comprehension of its self-subsistence and freedom. This -intrinsically infinite principle and explicitly enunciated universal -is the absolute negation of all particularity[208]; it is simple -unity at home with itself, which consumes all that is separable, all -processes of Nature and its succession of birth, passing away, and -reappearance, all the limitations of spiritual existence, and dissolves -all particular gods in its pure and infinite self-identity. In this -Pantheon all gods are dethroned; the flame of the subjective essence -has destroyed them; instead of the plastic polytheism art recognizes -now _one_ God only, _one_ Spirit, _one_ absolute self-subsistence, -which as the absolute knowledge and volition of itself remains in -free union with it, and no longer falls to pieces in the particular -characters and functions we have reviewed above, whose single unit of -cohesion was the force of an obscure Necessity. Absolute subjectivity, -however, in its purity would escape from art altogether, and only be -present in the apprehension of Thought, unless it could enter into -external existence in order that it might be a subjectivity which was -_actual_ if also conformable to its notion, and further could recollect -itself in its own province from out of this reality. And, what is -more, this moment of reality is pertinent to the Absolute, because -the Absolute, as infinite negativity, contains this self-relation--as -simple unity of knowledge at home with itself, and therewith as -_immediacy_--for the final consummation of its activity. On account -also of this its immediate existence, which is rooted in the Absolute -itself, the Absolute declares itself not as the one jealous God, who -merely annuls the aspect of Nature and finite human existence, without -revealing itself verily therein under the mode of actual divine -subjectivity; rather the very Absolute unfolds itself, and takes to -itself an aspect, relatively to which it is also within the grasp and -presentation of art. - -The determinate existence of God, however, is not the natural and -sensuous in its simplicity, but the sensuous as brought home to that -which is not sensuous, in other words to the subjectivity of mind -which, instead of losing the certainty of its own presence as the -Absolute, in its external envisagement, for the first time, and by no -other means than this its reality, is made aware of its actual presence -as such. God in His Truth is consequently no mere Ideal begotten of the -imagination, but He declares Himself in the heart of finite condition -and the external mode of contingent existence, and is, moreover, made -known to Himself therein as divine subjective life, which maintains -itself there as essentially infinite and creating this infinity for -itself. Inasmuch, then, as the actual subject[209] is the manifestation -of God, Art for the first time secures the superior right to apply -the human figure and its mode of externality generally as a means to -express the Absolute, although the new function of art can only consist -in making the external form not a means whereby the ideality of man's -inward condition is absorbed in exterior bodily shape, but rather -conversely to make the consciousness of the Divine mind visible in the -subject of consciousness. The distinguishable phases, which combine to -make up the totality of this apprehension of the world-condition as, -that is to say, the concrete totality of truth, are consequently made -manifest to mankind from this point onwards under such a mode that -it is neither the Natural in its simplicity, such as sun, heavens, -stars, and so forth, nor the Greek conclave of the gods of beauty, nor -the heroes and practical exploits in the field of the family cultus -and political life--it is neither one nor any of these which supplies -us with either content or form. Rather it is the actual and isolated -individual subject who receives in the inward[210] substance of his -living experience this infinite worth, for it is in him alone that the -eternal characters of absolute Truth--which is made actual only as -Spirit--expand out of their fulness within, and are concentrated to the -point of determinate existence. - -If we contrast this definition of romantic art with that which -was proposed to the classical--that is to say, as Greek sculpture -completed the latter under the mode most conformable to it--it is -obvious that the plastic figure of the god does not express the -motion and activity of Spirit, in so far as the same has retired from -its actual bodily shape, and has penetrated to the inner shrine of -independent self-identity. That which is mutable and contingent in -the empirical aspect of individuality is no doubt removed from those -lofty, godlike figures: what, however, fails them is the actualization -of the subjective condition in its self-subsistent being as shown in -self-knowledge and self-volition. This defect makes itself felt on the -exterior side in the notable fact that the direct expression of soul in -its simplicity, the light of the eye, is absent from the sculptured -figure. The most exalted works of beautiful sculpture are sightless. -The inward life does not look forth from them as self-conscious -inwardness such as this concentration of Spirit to the point of light -made visible in the human eye offers us. This light of the soul falls -outside of them, and is the possession of the beholder alone: he is -unable to look through these figures as soul direct to soul, and eye -to eye. The God of romantic art, however, is made known with sight, -that is, self-knowing, subjective on the side of soul, and that soul or -divine intimacy disclosing itself to soul. For the infinite negativity, -the withdrawal of the spiritual into itself, cancels its discharge -in the bodily frame. This subjectivity is the light of Spirit, which -reveals itself in its own domain, in the place which was previously -obscure, whereas the natural light can only give light on the face of -an object, is in fact this _terrain_ and object, upon which it appears, -and which it is aware of as itself[211]. Inasmuch as, however, this -absolute intimacy of the soul expresses itself at the same time as -the mode of human envisagement in its actual existing shape, and our -humanity is bound up with the entire natural world, we shall find -that there is no less a wide field of variety in the contents of the -subjective world of mind than there is in that external appearance, to -which Spirit is related as to its own dwelling-place. - -The reality of absolute subjectivity, as above described, in the mode -of its visible manifestation, possesses the following modes of content -and appearance. - -(_a_) Our first point of departure we must deduce from the Absolute -itself, which as very and actual mind endows itself with determinate -existence, is self-knowing in its thought and activity. Here we find -the human form so represented that it is known immediately as the -wholly self-possessed Divine. Man does not appear as man in his solely -human character, in the constraint of his passions, finite aims, -and achievements, or as merely conscious of God, but rather as the -self-knowing one and only universal God Himself, in whose life and -sufferings, birth, death, and resurrection He reveals openly also to -finite consciousness, what Spirit, what the Eternal and Infinite in -their veritable truth are[212]. Romantic art presents this content -in the history of Christ, his mother, and his disciples, with all -the rest of those in whom the Holy Spirit and the perfected Divine -is manifested. For in so far as God, who is above all the essential -Universal, exists in the manifestation of human existence, this -reality is not, in the Divine figure of Christ, limited to isolate and -immediate existence, but unfolds itself throughout the entire range -of that humanity, in which the Spirit of God is made present, and in -this actuality continues in unity with itself. The diffusion of this -self-contemplation, this essential self-possession of mind[213], is -peace, in other words the reconciled state of Spirit with its own -dominion in the mode of its objective presence--a divine world, a -kingdom of God, in which the Divine, which has for its substantive -notion from the first reconciliation with itself, consummates this -result in such a condition, and thereby secures its freedom. - -(_b_) However much, we must fain add, this identification asserts -itself as grounded in the essence of the Absolute itself, as spiritual -freedom and infinity it is no reconciliation which immediately is -visible from the first in either the real worlds of Nature or Spirit; -on the contrary, it is only accomplished as the elevation of Spirit -from the finitude of its immediate existence to its truth. As a -corollary of this it follows that Spirit, in order to secure its -totality and freedom, must effect an act of self-severation, and set -up on the one side itself as the finitude of Nature and Spirit to -its opposed self on the other as that which is essentially infinite. -Conversely with this act of disruption the necessity is conjoined -that from out of this retirement from its unity--within the bounds of -which the finite and purely natural, the immediacy of existence, the -"natural" heart in the sense of the negative, evil and bad, one and -all are defined--a way is at last found by virtue of the subjugation -of all that has no substantive worth within the kingdom of truth and -consolation. In this wise the reconcilement of Spirit can only be -conceived as an activity, a movement of the same, can only be presented -as a process, in whose course arise both strain and conflict, and -the appearance and reappearance, as an essential feature of it, of -pain, death, the mournful sense of non-reality, the agony of the -soul and its bodily tenement. For just as God in the first instance -disparts finite reality from Himself, so, too, finite man, who starts -on his journey outside the divine kingdom, receives the task to exalt -himself to God, to let loose from him the finite, to do away with the -nothing-worth, and by means of this decease of his immediate reality -to become that which God in His manifestation as man accomplished as -very truth in the actual world. The infinite pain of this sacrifice of -the most personal subjectivity, sufferings, and death, which for the -most part were excluded from the representation of classical art, or -rather only are presented there as natural suffering, receive their -adequate treatment necessarily for the first time in romantic art. -It is, for example, impossible to affirm that among the Greeks death -was ever conceived in its full and essential significance. Neither -that which was purely natural, nor the immediacy of Spirit in its -union with the bodily presence, was held by the Greeks as something -in itself essentially negative. Death was consequently to them purely -an abstract passing over, unaccompanied by horror or fearsomeness, a -cessation without further immeasurable consequences for the deceased. -If, however, conscious life in its spiritual self-possession is of -infinite worth then the negation, which death enfolds, is a negation -of this exaltation and worth, and it is consequently fearful, a death -of the soul, which is in the position of finding itself thereby -as itself now this negative in explicit appearance, excluded for -evermore from happiness, absolutely unhappy, delivered over to eternal -damnation[214]. Greek individuality, on the contrary, does not, -regarded as spiritual self-consciousness, attach this worth to itself; -it is able, consequently, to surround death with more cheerful images. -Man only fears the loss of that which is of great worth to him[215]. -Life possesses, however, only this infinite worth for mind if the -subject thereof, as spiritual and self-conscious, is reality in its -absolute unity, and is compelled with an apprehension, in this way -justified, to image itself as doomed to negation by death. From another -point of view, however, death also fails to secure from classical -art the _positive_ significance which it receives from romantic art. -The Greeks never treated with real seriousness what we understand -by immortality. It was only in later times that the doctrine of -immortality received at the hands of Socrates a profounder significance -for the introspective reflection of human intelligence. When, for -example, Odysseus[216] praises the happiness of Achilles in the lower -world as one excelling that of all others who were before or came after -him on the ground that he, once revered as a god, is now greatest chief -among the dead, Achilles in the well-known words rates this fortune -at a very low rank indeed, and makes answer that Odysseus had better -utter no word of comfort to him on the score of death; nay, he would -rather be a mere serf of the soil, and poor enough serve a poor man -for wage, than rule as lord over all the ghosts of the dead who have -vanished to Hades. In romantic art, on the contrary, death is merely -a decease of the natural soul and finite consciousness, a decease, -which only proclaims itself as negative as against that which is itself -essentially negative and abolishes what has no real substance, and is -consequently the deliverance of Spirit from its finitude and division, -mediating at the same time the spiritual reconciliation of the -individual subject with the Absolute[217]. Among the Greeks life in its -union with the existence of Nature and the external world was the only -life about which you could affirm anything, and death was consequently -pure negation, the dissolution of immediate reality. In the romantic -view of the world, however, death receives the significance due to -its negativity, in other words the negation of the negative[218], -and returns back to us thereby equally as the affirmative, as the -resurrection of Spirit from the bare husk of Nature and the finiteness -which it has outgrown. The pain and death of the extinguished light of -individual being awakes again in its return upon itself in fruition, -blessedness, and in short that reconciled existence which Spirit is -unable to attain to save through the dying of its negative state, in -which it is shut off from its most veritable truth and life. This -fundamental principle does not therefore merely affect the fact of -death as it approaches man in his relation to the world of Nature, but -it is bound up with a process, which Spirit has to sustain in itself, -quite independently of this external aspect of negation, if life and -truth are to join hands. - -(_c_) The _third_ presentment of this absolute world of Spirit is -co-ordinated by man, in so far as he neither makes manifest the -Absolute and Divine in its immediate and essential mode as such -_Divine_, nor declares positively the process in which he is exalted -to the Supreme Being, and reconciled with Him, but rather continues -within the ordinary sphere of his human life. Here it is the purely -_finite_ aspect of that existence which constitutes the content, -whether we regard it in the light of its spiritual purposes, its -worldly interests, passions, collisions, suffering, and enjoyments, -or from that point of view which is wholly external, that of Nature, -its kingdom, and all its detailed phenomena. In order to apprehend -this content with adequacy, however, we must take up two distinct -positions relatively to it. In other words, it is true that Spirit, -for the reason that it has secured the principle of self-affirmation, -expatiates in this province, as one on which it has a just claim, and -one which, as native to it, provides satisfaction, an element from -which it merely extracts this positive character[219], and is permitted -thereby itself to be reflected in its positive satisfaction and -intimacy; yet, on the other hand, we have the fact that this content -is brought down to the level of pure contingency, a contingency which -is unable to claim any independent validity, for the reason that mind -cannot discover therein it veritable existence, and consequently only -preserves its substantial unity by independently on its own account -breaking up again this finite aspect of Spirit and Nature as a thing of -finitude and negation. - -3. In conclusion, then, so far as the relation of this content in its -entirety to its mode of presentation is concerned, it would appear, -in the first place, agreeably to what we have above stated, that the -content of romantic art, relatively to the Divine, at any rate, is very -_limited._ - -(_a_) For, first, as we have already indicated, Nature is divested of -the Divine principle; in other words, the sea and mountains, valleys, -Time, and Night, briefly all the general processes of Nature, have -here lost the worth which they carry when related to the presentation -and content of the Absolute. The images of Nature receive no further -expansion in a symbolic significance. The thesis that their shapes and -activities might possibly sustain traits of Divine import is taken away -from them. For all the mighty questions in regard to the origin of the -world, in regard to the Whence, Wherefore, and Whither, of created -Nature and humanity, and all the symbolical and plastic experiments -in the resolution and exposition of these problems disappear at once -in the revelation of God in Spirit; and we may add that also in the -spiritual sphere the world of variety and colour, with the characters, -actions, and events, as they were envisaged by classical art, are now -concentrated in _one_ single _light-focus_ of the Absolute and its -eternal history of redemption. The whole content meets, therefore, at -this single point of the Inmost of Spirit[220]--that is, of feeling, -imagination, soul--all that strains after a union with truth, that -seeks and wrestles to bring to birth the Divine in consciousness, and -to maintain it; and, furthermore, is constrained to execute the world's -aims and undertakings, not so much for the _world's_ sake as to further -the unique and essential undertaking of its heart by means of the -spiritual conflict of man's inward nature and his reconciliation with -God, presenting personality and its conservation no less than all that -paves the way to them for this object, and this alone. The heroism, -which makes its appearance as the result of such aspirations, is not -the kind of heroism which prescribes laws by its own fiat, establishes -new systems, creates and informs circumstances, but rather a heroism -of submission, which accepts everything as predetermined and ordered -above it, and whose energies are now wholly restricted to the task of -regulating temporal events in line with such direction, and making -that which is in keeping with the higher order and of independent -stability a valid factor in the world as if is and in the Time-process. -For the reason, however, that this absolute content appears as -concentrated to a focus in the inward _life of the soul_, and the -entire process is imported into the life of mankind, the range of this -content is thereby also infinitely extended. It _expands_, in fact, -to a manifold variety practically without limit. For although every -objective history supplies what is substantive in that self-concrete -soul-life, yet for all that the subject of the same reviews it in all -its aspects, presents isolated features taken from it, or unfolds it -as it appears in continually novel human traits by way of addition, -and may very well into the bargain both import the entire expanse of -Nature, as environment and _locale_ of Spirit, and divert them to the -one single object referred to. By this means the history of soul-life -is infinitely rich, and can adapt its form to ever shifting conditions -and situations in every possible way. And, further, if the individual -at last steps forth from this absolute sphere and actively engages in -worldly affairs, the range of interests, objects, and emotions will -be difficult to count on the score in proportion as the spiritual -self-possession is profound, agreeably to the principle in its fullest -application; man is consequently distracted by an infinitely multiplied -profusion of interior and exterior collisions, revolutions, and -gradations of passion, and the most manifold degrees of satisfaction. -The Absolute in its unqualified and essential universality, in so far, -that is, as it is unfolded in the conscious life of the human soul, -constitutes the spiritual content of romantic art; and for this reason -his collective humanity, no less than its entire evolution, becomes its -inexhaustible material. - -(_b_) Romantic art does not, however, _as art_ educe this content -in the way we found was the case for the most part in symbolic art, -and, above all, in the classical type and its ideal gods. Romantic -art, as we have seen already, is not, in its _specific_ capacity, the -instructive _revelation_, which, merely in the form of art, makes -the content of truth visible to the senses. The content is already -present in the conceptive mind, and the emotions independently and -outside the sphere of art. _Religion_, as the consciousness of truth -in its universality, is here an essential _premiss_ of art to a degree -totally different from what it was in the previous cases; and, even -if we look at the position in its wholly exterior aspect for the -consciousness that is actual in the reality of the material world, it -lies before us as the prosaic fact of the very present. That is to say, -inasmuch as the content of revelation to mind is the eternal absolute -nature of _mind_[221] itself, which breaks itself loose from Nature -in its bareness and _subordinates_ the same, its manifestation in the -immediacy of present life is such that the external material, in so far -as it consists and is existent, only continues as a contingent world, -out of which the Absolute recollects itself in the secret wealth of -Spirit, and only by such means attains independence and truth. The -external show receives thus the imprimatur of an indifferent medium, -in which Spirit can repose no ultimate trust, and in which it can find -no dwelling-place. The more it conceives the conformation of external -reality as unworthy of its fulness the less it becomes able to seek -consolation therein, or to discover its task of self-reconcilement -consummated by a union therewith. - -(_c_) The manner in which, therefore, romantic art gives to itself -a real embodiment agreeably to the spirit of the principle above -indicated, and on the side of its external appearance, is not one -which essentially overleaps the ordinary presentment of reality: it -is by no means averse to accept as cover for itself real existence in -its finite defects and definition. That beauty therefore disappears -from it, which tended to raise the outside envisagement above the -soilure of Time, and the traces that unite it with a Past, in order -to declare the beauty of existence in its blossom in the room of what -had otherwise been a dismantled image. Romantic art has no longer for -its aim the freedom and life of existence in its infinite tranquillity -and absorption of the soul in the bodily presence; no more a life -such as _this_ arrests it. It turns its back on this pinnacle of -beauty. It interweaves the threads of its soul experience with the -contingent material of Nature's workshop, and gives unfettered play -to the emphatic features of ugliness itself. We have, in short, two -worlds included in the Romantic, a spiritual realm essentially complete -in itself, the soul-kingdom, which finds reconciliation in its own -sphere, and therewith the otherwise straightforward repetition of -birth, death, and resurrection now for the first time perfected in -the true circular orbit, doubled back in the return upon itself, the -genuine Phoenix life of Spirit. On the other hand, there is the realm -of external Nature simply as such, which, released as it is from its -secure association and union with Spirit, becomes now a completely -empirical reality, concerning the form of which the soul cares little -or nothing. In classical art Spirit controlled the empirical phenomenon -and transpierced it through and through, because it was the very thing -which it had to accept as its completed reality. But now the ideal -kingdom is indifferent to the mode of configuration in the world of -immediate sense, because this immediacy is beneath the sphere of the -blessedness of essential soul-life. The external phenomenon is no -longer able to express this inward life; and if any call is made upon -it for this purpose, it merely is utilized to make plain that the -external show is an existence which does not satisfy, and is forced -to point back by suggestion to the spiritual content, the soul and -its emotions, as the truly essential medium. Precisely for the same -reason romantic art suffers externality on its own part to go on -its way freely; and in this respect permits all and every material, -flowers, trees, and so on, down to the most ordinary domestic utensils, -to appear in its productions just as they are, and as the chance of -natural circumstance may arrange them. Such a content as this, however, -carries at the same time with it the result, that as purely exterior -matter, its worth is of no validity and insignificant; it only receives -its genuine worth when the soul has made itself a home in it, and it is -taken to express not merely the ideal, but _spiritual inwardness_[222] -itself, which, instead of blending itself with the exterior thing, -appears simply to have attained its own reconciliation with itself. The -ideality thus brought home to a point is that mode of expression which -is without externality, invisibly declaring itself, and only itself, -in other words, a tone of music simply, which is neither an object nor -possesses form, a wavelet over waters[223], a ringing sound over a -world, which, in sounds such as this, and the varied phenomena which -are united with it, can only receive and reflect one reverberation of -this self-absorption of the soul. - -To sum up, then, in a word, this relation of content and form in the -romantic type, where it remains true to its distinctive character, we -may affirm that the fundamental note of the same, for this very reason -that its principle constitutes an ever expanding universality and the -restlessly active depths of heart and mind, is that of _music_, and -when combined with the definite content of imagination, lyrical. This -_lyrical_ aspect is likewise the primary characteristic of romantic -art, a tone which gives the key-note also to the epic poem and drama, -and which is wafted as a breath of soul even around the works of the -plastic arts, since here, too, spirit and soul are desirous of speaking -by means of the plastic shape to soul and mind. - -As regards the _division_ of our subject, which we must now in -conclusion determine for the examination of this our third extensive -domain of artistic production on the lines of its development, we -shall find that the basic notion of the romantic relatively to -its substantive and progressive articulation is comprised most -conveniently in three branches of division we may define as follows. - -The _first_ sphere is the province of _religion_ strictly, in which -the redemption history, the life, death, and resurrection of Christ -constitute the central interest. The principle which is emphasized as -all-important here is that self-involution which mind accomplishes by -negating its immediacy and finitude, overcoming the same, and by means -of this liberation secures its own self-possessed infinity and absolute -self-subsistence in its own kingdom. - -This self-subsistence passes, then, in the _second_ place from the -Divine dwelling of essential Spirit, surrenders its pure exaltation -of finite man to God, in order to enter the _temporal world._ Here it -is, in the first instance, the subject of consciousness simply, which -has become self-affirmative, and which possesses as the substantive -material of its content, no less than as the interest of its existence, -the virtues of this positive subjectivity, such as honour, love, -fidelity, and bravery, the aims and obligations, in short, of romantic -chivalry. - -The content and form of the _third_ chapter may be generally -indicated as the _formal consistency of character._ In other words, -if the subjective life has been so far concentrated, that spiritual -independence is its essential characteristic, it follows also that the -_particular_ content, with which such independence is associated as -with what is strictly its own, will also partake of such a character; -this self-subsistence, however, inasmuch as it does not, as was the -case in the sphere appertinent to essential and explicit religious -truth, repose in the substantive core of its life, is only able -to reach a formal type. Conversely the configuration of external -conditions, situations, and events is now also independently free, and -is involved consequently in every sort of capricious adventure. For -this reason we find, to put it in general terms, as the termination of -the romantic, the contingency of the exterior condition and internal -life, and a falling asunder of the two aspects, by reason of which Art -commits an act of suicide, and betrays the fact that conscious life -must now secure forms of loftier significance, than Art alone is able -to offer, in which to grasp and retain truth. - -[Footnote 206: Throughout, of course, the German word translated in -these paragraphs as mind or spirit is _Geist._] - -[Footnote 207: Absolute ideality may perhaps interpret the text more -intelligibly.] - -[Footnote 208: It is so because as self-identity it distinguishes -itself from everything to which it is related.] - -[Footnote 209: _Das wirkliche Subjekt_, Hegel means, of course, -individual man.] - -[Footnote 210: "Most intimate" would perhaps express the meaning more -clearly.] - -[Footnote 211: Hegel here gives expression to what is perhaps not -wholly defensible logic, though it may be truly poetic mysticism.] - -[Footnote 212: I would refer any reader who is inclined to gasp at -this interpretation of Christian revelation to some useful remarks of -Professor Bosanquet in his Preface to his translation, p. XXVIII.] - -[Footnote 213: _Die Ausbreitung dieses Selbstanschauens, -In-sich-und-Bei-sich-seyns_ _des Geistes ist der Frieden._ One of -Hegel's terrors for the translator, though the sense is obvious enough.] - -[Footnote 214: The analysis no doubt has its interest. But among -other difficulties it is not easy to see how the argument, based -as it is on rational grounds, makes for anything but annihilation. -Death is a negation--it, according to the argument, puts an end to -the "process"--what remains then is apparently the evanescence of the -finite spirit. This reference to "happiness" assumes that conscious -individual life continues, which is a mere _pelitio principii._ If it -continues the former dual aspect would seem to be implied in it. The -analysis of the actual significance of death for Christendom and Greek -paganism retains, of course, its validity.] - -[Footnote 215: But surely in a sense personal life, if only limited -to Earth's existence, may be, I do not say necessarily is, all the -more valuable. This is an important aspect of the matter which is not -here adequately answered, and it suggests a real grievance against -the extravagant follies of a certain type of Christendom. The present -feeling of the wisest minds of our own time will be inclined to -regard a good deal of Hegel's remarks here as insufficient or lacking -directness. One recalls those significant lines of a great writer but -recently taken from us: - -/$ - Sensation is a gracious gift - But were it cramped in station, - The prayer to have it cast adrift - Would spout from all sensation. -$/ - -Hegel's point of view seems neither to be that of mysticism nor mere -absorption.] - -[Footnote 216: "Odyssey," XI, vv. 481-91. But this illustration is at -least evidence of the high value a Greek attached to life on Earth.] - -[Footnote 217: True enough as an analysis of the Christian -consciousness; but the difficulty above pointed out remains so far as -the writer refers to a future life, which he sometimes appears to do, -sometimes not. Conditions are assumed for human personality of which we -can form no conception.] - -[Footnote 218: He means it is the negation of that which is itself -a negation, finite existence. The conclusion is of course, as above -suggested, replete with difficulty.] - -[Footnote 219: That is, I presume, the positive character of natural -conditions; but it may mean its own "affirmative" relation.] - -[Footnote 220: _Auf die Innerlichkeit des Geistes._] - -[Footnote 221: Reason or Spirit are perhaps preferable.] - -[Footnote 222: The German words are _das Innerliche_ and _die -Innigkeit._] - -[Footnote 223: This is obviously not wholly independent of form.] - - - - -CHAPTER I - -THE RELIGIOUS DOMAIN OF ROMANTIC ART - -Inasmuch as romantic art, in the representation of the consciousness -of absolute subjectivity, understanding this as the comprehension of -all truth, the coalescence of mind with its essence--receives its -substantive content in the satisfaction of soul-life, in other words -the reconciliation of God with the world and therein with Himself, it -follows that at this stage the Ideal for the first time is completely -at home. For it was blessedness and self-subsistency, contentment, -repose, and freedom which we declared as most fundamentally defining -the Ideal. Of course, we cannot therefore on this account deduce -the Ideal simply from the notion and reality of romantic art; but -relatively to the classic Ideal the form it receives is entirely -altered. This relation, already in general terms indicated, we must now -before everything else establish in its fully concrete significance, -in order to elucidate the fundamental type of the romantic mode of -presentation. In the classical Ideal the Divine is in one aspect of -it restricted to pure individuality; in another aspect the soul and -spiritual blessedness of particular gods find their exclusive discharge -through the physical medium; and as a third characteristic, for the -reason that the inseparable unity of each individual both essentially -and in its exterior form supplies the principle of the same, the -negativity of the dismemberment implied in human life, that is the -pain of both body and soul, sacrifice, and resignation are unable to -appear as essentially pertinent to these godlike figures. The Divine -of classical art falls, it is true, into an aggregation of gods, -but there is no organic and essential self-division, no universally -proclaimed essence such as we find in the particular presentment of -man whether in form and spirit, whether empirically or subjectively -considered; and just as little has it confronting it, as being itself -the Absolute in invisible form, a world of evil, sin, and ignorance, -together with the task of resolving such contradictions in harmony, and -only by thus growing on level terms with the very truth and divine out -of this reconciliation. In the notion of the absolute subjectivity, -on the contrary, this opposition between substantive universality and -personality is inherent, an opposition, whose consummated mediation -the subjective ideality perfects with its substance, exalting thereby -the substantive presence to the articulate and absolute subject of -self-knowledge and volition. But there is, _secondly_, appertinent -to the reality of the subjective condition conceived as mind the -profounder contradiction of a finite world, through whose abrogation -as finite, and by whose resultant reconciliation with the Absolute -the Infinite by virtue of its own absolute activity makes its proper -being self-subsistent, and so for the first time exists as absolute -Spirit. The appearance of this actuality on the _terrain_, and in the -configuration of the human spirit receives consequently, in respect to -its _beauty_, a totally different mode of relation to that presented -by classical art. Greek beauty unfolds the inward aspect of spiritual -individuality solely as it is envisaged by means of its bodily shape, -actions, and events, wholly expressed in what is exterior, and living -wholly therein. For romantic art, on the contrary, it is absolutely -necessary that the soul, albeit envisaged in the exterior medium, -should at the same time demonstrate its capacity of self-withdrawal -from the tenement of the body and self-substantive life. The bodily -frame can therefore now only express the inwardness of mind, in so far -as it makes it plain that it is not in this material existence, but -in itself, that the soul discovers its congruent reality. On account -of this beauty is now no longer an idealization in respect to the -objective form, but rather the ideal and essential configuration of the -soul itself; it is in short a beauty of spiritual ideality, that is -the specific mode of such, as every content is informed and elaborated -within the temple of the subjective world, and without retaining the -external medium in this its permeation with Spirit. For the reason, -then, that by this means the interest disappears, which consists in -clarifying real existence to the point of our classical unity, and -is concentrated in the contrary direction of wafting a new breath of -beauty through the unseen content of the spiritual itself, art ceases -to retain the old solicitude for what is exterior at all. It accepts -the same directly as it may chance to find it, leaving it to take -whatever form may happen to please it. The reconciliation with the -Absolute is in the Romantic an act of the inward life, which no doubt -is embodied externally, but which does not retain that exterior in -its material realization as its essential content and object. We may -observe that in close association with this indifference towards the -idealizing union of soul and body, and in its relation to the external -treatment of the more predominant individuality of a sitter, we find -the art of _portraiture_, which does not entirely erase particular -traits and lines, as they are found in Nature, and her inevitable -deficiencies--defects inseparable from finite effects--in order to -replace them with something more adequate. Generally speaking even -here there is a certain limit to the licence given to Nature in this -respect; but to the general aspect of form in the first instance it is -quite indifferent; and no attempt is made to exclude wholly from it the -accidental impurities of finite and sensuous existence. - -We may adjoin a further quite sufficient reason for the imperative -character of this radical definition of romantic art from another point -of view. The classic Ideal, where we find it at the culminating point -of its very truth, is self-exclusive, self-subsistent, retiring and not -susceptible[224] in its nature, an orbed individual totality, which -repels all else from itself. Its conformation is uniquely its own; its -life is bound up in that and that exclusively, and it will harbour -no affinity with what is purely empirical and contingent. Whoever, -therefore, approaches an ideal such as this as spectator, is unable -to appropriate its existence as an embodiment strictly akin to that -of his own presence. The figures of the eternal gods, albeit human, -do not belong to our mortality, for these gods have not themselves -experienced the infirmities of finite existence, but are directly -exalted above them. Their affinity with what is empirical and relative -is interrupted. The infinite subjectivity, what we call the Absolute -of romantic art, is on the contrary not absorbed in its presentment; -it is rather carried into its _own_ domain, and for this very reason -retains such external aspect as it possesses not so much _for itself_ -as for the contemplation of others, as, in short, an exterior presence -which is freely offered for this purpose. This externality must further -appear in the form of common fact, the human as our senses perceive -it, since it is through that that God Himself descends to the level -of finite and temporal existence, in order to mediate and reconcile -the absolute antithesis, which is inherent in the notion of the -Absolute. For this reason our empirical humanity also contains in its -bodily presence an aspect, which unfolds to man a bond of affinity and -kinship, by virtue whereof he is able to contemplate even his direct -natural presence with assurance; and he can do so because the Divine -incarnation does not, with the severity of the classical type, thrust -on one side the particular and contingent, but presents to his vision -that which he himself possesses, or that which he recognizes and loves -in others around him. It is just this homeliness incidental to what we -ordinarily meet with which attracts and enables romantic art to entrust -itself to the external aspect of reality. Inasmuch, then, as the -externality which is turned adrift is called upon, through this very -abandonment, to suggest the beauty of soul, the lofty pretension of its -spirituality and the sacred colour of the emotional life, so, too, at -the same time, it is a condition of its doing so that it be absorbed -itself within the ideal realm of mind and its absolute content, and -that it appropriate the same. - -To sum up finally what is implied in this act of surrender we may -assert that it consists in the general conception, that in romantic art -the infinite subjectivity does not abide in solitary self-sufficiency, -as the Greek god did, living in the full perfection and blessedness -of his self-exclusion; rather it moves out of itself in relation to -somewhat else, which, however, is its own substance, in which it -discovers itself again and continues all the time in union with itself. -This condition of self-unity in some other that is yet its own is the -real form of beauty appropriate to romantic art, the Ideal of the same, -which receives for its mode and envisagement what is, in its essence, -subjective ideality or inwardness, soul-life and its attendant -emotions. The romantic Ideal expresses, therefore, the relation to -another spiritual correlative, which is so closely associated with -the ideal possessions of the first one, that it is only by virtue of -this further one that the soul lives in the complete wealth of its own -kingdom. This essential life of the soul in another is, when expressed -in terms of emotion, the inwardness of love. - -We may consequently affirm _lave_ to be the general content of the -romantic, so far as the sphere of religion is concerned. Love, however, -only receives its truly ideal configuration when it expresses the -_positive_ reconcilement of Spirit in its immediacy. Before, however, -we shall be in a position to examine this stage of the fairest and -most ideal spiritual satisfaction, we must first pass in review _the -process of negation_, which the absolute Subject enters in overcoming -the finiteness and immediacy of its human envisagement, a process which -is divulged in the life, death, and suffering of God for the world and -humanity, and its possible reconcilement with God. And, secondly, we -have on the other side, humanity, which is called upon conversely on -its own account to pass through the very same process in order to make -actual the reconciliation which is implicitly contained in its nature. -Midway within the steps of this process, in which the _negative_ aspect -of the sensuous and spiritual passage 011 to death and the grave -constitutes the central act of achievement, we shall find that the -expression of _affirmative_ blessedness is conspicuous, which in this -sphere characterizes art's most beautiful creations. For the better -division of this first chapter we may examine its subject-matter as it -falls into three distinct heads of inquiry. - -_First_, we have the redemption-history of Christ; the phasal moments -of absolute Spirit presented in the person of God Himself, in so far as -He becomes man, and takes to Himself an actual existence in the world -of finitude and its concrete conditions, and in this to start with -isolated existence gives visible shape to the Absolute itself. - -_Secondly_, we shall consider love in its positive presentment as the -feeling of reconciliation between the human and the Divine; in other -words the Holy Family, the maternal love of Mary, the love of Christ -and that of his disciples. - -_Thirdly_, we have the community before us. Here it is the Spirit -of God as present by virtue of the conversion of soul and the -mortification of the natural and finite sense, in short, the return of -man to God, a return in which penances and pains mediate in the first -instance this union of God and man. - -1. THE REDEMPTION-HISTORY OF CHRIST - -The reconciliation of God with His own substance, history in its -absolute significance, or, in one word, the process of realization, is -made visible to our senses and assured to our minds by the revelation -of God in the world. The content of this reconcilement as expressed -in the most direct way is the coalescence in unity of the absolute -essence of reality with the individual subject of human consciousness. -An individual man is God and God is an individual man. In this truth -is implied the fact that the human spirit _intrinsically_, that is, -relatively to its notion and essence, is Spirit in truth; and every -particular individual in virtue of the humanity he connotes possesses -the infinite vocation no less than the infinite significance of being -an object of God and in union with God. But along with this and of -a like importance the obligation is imposed on man to realize this -notion, which, in the first instance, he merely possesses under the -implication of his nature. In other words, he has to place before -himself and attain to this union with God as the seal of his existence. -Only when he has thus consummated his proper destiny does he become -essentially free and infinite Spirit. This he can only do in so far as -that unity is itself the origination, the eternal ground-root of the -human and Divine nature. The goal is here the explicit beginning of the -process, namely, the presupposition for the religious consciousness -exhibited in romantic art, that God is Himself man and flesh, that He -has become this particular human individual, in whom the reconciliation -consequently no longer remains as only implicit, so that it is merely -to be inferred from its _notional_ existence, but asserts itself in -_objective_ existence also before the perception of human sense as this -particular and actually existing man. The importance of this aspect of -_particularity_ consists in this that it enables all other individuals -to find in the same the picture of his own reconcilement with God; -it is now no longer a mere possibility, but a fact which has on this -very account appeared as really accomplished in this one person. -Inasmuch, however, as this unity, conceived as the ideal reconciliation -of opposed factors of one process, is no immediately unified mode of -being, it is inevitable, in the _second_ place, that the process of -Spirit as exemplified in this _one_ individual--the process, that -is, by means of which consciousness is for the first time Spirit in -Truth--should receive the form of its existence in the history of this -very person. This history of Spirit attaining its consummation in one -personal life consists simply in all that we have already adverted to; -that is to say, the particular man casts on one side his singularity -both in its bodily and spiritual presence, in other words he suffers -and dies, but furthermore through the agony of death rises again out of -death and ascends as glorified God, very and real Spirit, who now, it -is true, has entered actual existence as this particular person, yet is -with equal truth only very God as Spirit in His community. - -(_a_) This history furnishes the fundamental material for the romantic -art of the religious consciousness, in its attitude to which, however, -art, taken simply as Art, is to some extent a superfluity. For the -main thing here is spiritual conviction, the feeling and conception -of this eternal truth, and _the faith_ which is essential evidence to -itself of the truth, and becomes in consequence a vital possession of -the ideality of that conception. In other words, faith in its developed -condition consists in the immediate conviction that it has confronting -soul, in the organic movement of this history, the _truth_ itself. If, -however, the consciousness of truth is the main point of importance it -follows that the _beauty_ of the artistic reflection and presentation -is of incidental value to which we may be comparatively indifferent, -for the truth is present to mind quite independently of art. - -(_b_) From another point of view, however, the religious content -comprises at the same time within its compass a certain aspect of -this process, by virtue of which it not merely admits of artistic -treatment, but, in a specific relation, admits of it as _necessary._ In -the religious conception of romantic art, as we have more than once -explained it, it is an inseparable concomitant of the content that -it carries anthropomorphism to the verge of an extreme; and this is -so because it is precisely this content which possesses for its main -_centrum_ the complete coalescence of the Absolute and Divine with the -human consciousness as a visible part of sensuous reality, in other -words, as envisaged in the external bodily frame of man, and further, -is compelled to represent the Divine in the form of individuality such -as is associated with the deficiencies of Nature and the mode of finite -phenomena. In this respect Art supplies to the consciousness which -seeks to envisage the Divine manifestation, the definite presence of -an individual and real human figure, a concrete image, moreover, of -the exterior traits of events, in which the birth, life, sufferings, -death, resurrection and ascension of Christ are more widely circulated -to the glory of God; so that it is exclusively by Art that the real -and visible presence of the Divine is for ever renewed over again in a -permanent form. - -(_c_) In so far as, in this Divine manifestation, an emphasis is laid -on this, namely, that God is essentially a particular individual to -the exclusion of others, and does not merely present to us the union -of Divine and human consciousness in its universal significance, but -rather as that of this _particular_ man, to that extent, the very -nature of the content makes it inevitable that all the features of -contingency and particularity incidental to finite existence assert -themselves, from which the beauty which characterized the consummation -of the classic Ideal had purified itself. That which the free notion -of beauty had removed from itself as unfitting, in other words, the -non-ideal, is in the present case accepted as a necessary aspect, -which actually originates in the movement of the content itself and is -consequently made explicit. - -(_α_) And it follows from this that when the person of Christ is -selected for the object of art, as so frequently occurs, artists, no -matter when or where, have taken the very worst course of all who -create in their presentment of Christ an Ideal in the meaning and mode -of the classical Ideal. Such heads or figures of Christ may no doubt -display earnestness, repose, and ethical worth: but the true Christ -presentment should rather possess on the one hand soul-intensity -and pre-eminently spirituality in its _widest_ comprehension, on the -other, intimate personality and _individual_ distinction. Both these -contrasted aspects are inconsistent with that blissful repose in the -sensuous environment of our humanity. To combine these two _termini_ -of artistic reproduction, expression and form, as above defined, is a -matter of the greatest difficulty, and painters especially have almost -always got themselves into difficulties when they diverged from the -traditional type[225]. - -Earnestness and depth of consciousness should no doubt be prominent -in the expression of such heads, but the specific features and lines -both of countenance and figure ought as little to be of a simply -ideal beauty as they are entitled to fall short in the direction of -the commonplace and the ugly, or erroneously to aspire after the -bare pretensions of the Sublime. The truest success in respect to -the external figure will be found in a mean between the directness -of Nature's detail and the ideal of beauty. Rightly to hit on this -just mean is difficult. It is pre-eminently in this that the ability, -taste, and genius of an artist will assert itself. And in general we -may assert that in all artistic execution of this character--putting -on one side entirely the different nature of the content, which is -inseparable from religious faith--there is more scope offered for the -exercise of the artist's private judgment than is the case when dealing -with the classic Ideal. In classical art the artist seeks to present -the spiritual and Divine immediately in the lines of the bodily shape -itself, in the organism of the human figure; the lines of the human -form, therefore, in this ideal divergence from what is ordinarily met -with in finite existence, are fundamentally necessary to the interest. -In the kind of art we are now discussing the configuration remains that -of ordinary experience; its specific lines are up to a certain point -unessential, detail, in short, that may indifferently be treated in -divers ways and with greater artistic licence. The supreme interest, -therefore, is concentrated, on the one hand, in the mode and manner -whereby our artist makes that which is spiritual and ideal within the -content under the mode of Spirit itself shine forth through this -envisagement of ordinary experience; and, on the other hand, in the -individual discretion exercised in the execution, the technical means -and shifts employed, by virtue of which he is able to impart to his -creations the breath of spiritual life and to bring home this finer -essence to our hearts and senses. - -(_β_) With regard to the further aspect of the content we have already -pointed out that it is referable to the history of the Absolute under -the mode that the same is deducible from the notion of Spirit itself; -a history which makes objective in the real world bodily and spiritual -singularity as infused with its own essential and universal nature. -For the reconciliation of our individual consciousness with God -does not immediately appear as an original harmony, but rather as a -harmony which only is modulated from infinite pain, from resignation, -sacrifice, and the mortification of the finite, sensuous, and -particular. We see here the finite and the infinite brought into unity; -and this reconciliation only asserts itself in its true profundity, -intimacy, and power by means of the grossness and severity of the -contradiction which yearns for resolution. We may therefore without -fear assert that the entire asperity and dissonance of the suffering, -torture, and agony, which such a contradiction brings in its train, -is inseparable from the very nature of spiritual life, whose final -consolation constitutes here the content. - -This process of Spirit is, if accepted frankly for all it implies and -unfolds, the essence, the notion of Spirit absolutely. It consequently -determines for conscious life that _universal history_[226] which is -for ever repeated in every individual consciousness. For it is nothing -less or more than this consciousness as the universal mind or Spirit -is explicated in the multiplicity of individual life, reality and -existence. In the first instance, however, for the reason that the -essential significance of the spiritual process is concentrated in that -mode of reality which is purely individual, this universal history -comes before us itself merely in the form of _one_ person, to which it -is conjoined as its own, as the history, that is, of his birth, his -suffering, death, and return from death; at the same time there is the -further significance attached to this personal history, namely, that it -is the history of universal and absolute Spirit itself. - -The supreme turning-point of this life of God is the putting aside of -individual existence as the life of a _particular_ man simply--the -story of the Passion, the suffering on the Cross, the Calvary of -Spirit, the agony of death. In so far as the content here comprises -the fact that the external and bodily form--immediate existence in -its personal mode--is, in the pain of its inherent contradiction, -propounded in this aspect of negation in order that Spirit may secure -its truth and its blessedness by the sacrifice of the sensuous and its -individual singularity, to that extent we reach the extreme line of -division between it as an artistic creation and the classic or plastic -Ideal. From one point of view no doubt the earthly body and the frailty -of human Nature is expressly exalted and honoured in the fact that -it is God Himself who is made manifest within it. On the other hand, -however, it is just this human and bodily side which is posited as -negative, and declares itself in its pain. In the classic Ideal the -undisturbed harmony in no way vanishes before the co-essential Spirit. -The main incidents of that Passion, the mocking of Christ, the crowning -with thorns, the carrying of the cross, the final death on the same in -the agony of a torturing and tedious death, are wholly incompatible -with the presentment of the Greek type of beauty. The lofty aspect in -such situations as these is the essential holiness implied in them, the -depth of the Spirit's inmost, the eternal significance of the agony in -its relation to the spiritual process, the endurance and Divine repose. - -The personal environment of this sublime figure is in part composed -of friends and in part of enemies. The friends are throughout no -ideal creations, but relatively to the notion[227], particular -individualities typical of ordinary men, which the impulse of Spirit -attaches to Christ: the enemies, on the other hand, by virtue of the -fact that they place themselves in hostility to God, judge, mock, -put to torture, and crucify Him, are presented to us as spiritually -evil, and this conception of their wickedness of heart and enmity -to God brings in its train on its exterior side ugliness, grossness, -barbarity, the rage and distortion of Spirit. In all these respects, -in contrast with the classical beauty we have before us in such -representations the non-beautiful as an inevitable concomitant. - -(_γ_) The process of death, however, in the Divine nature is only -to be regarded as a point of transition, by means of which the -self-reconcilement of Spirit is effected; and the aspects of the Divine -and human, the out and out universal and the phenomenal individuality, -to mediate the division of which is the main object in view, are -positively suffered to coalesce. This positive affirmation, which is -the underlying root and origination of the process, is consequently -also forced to exhibit itself in a like positive way. As emphatic -situations in the Christ-history the resurrection and ascension supply -conspicuously the very means to put that affirmation in the clearest -light. In more isolated fashion we have over and above this for the -same purpose those occasions in which Christ appears to His own as -teacher. Here, however, plastic art is confronted with an exceptional -situation of difficulty. For in a measure it is Spirit in its purity, -which is to be presented in this very impalpable ideality, and in a -measure, too, it is nothing less than absolute Spirit, which in the -full pregnancy of its infinitude and universality is affirmatively -propounded in union with an individual consciousness and exalted above -immediate existence; and yet notwithstanding such preconceptions it has -undertaken the task to envisage for sense in the bodily configuration -of this person the entire expression of the infinite and innermost -spiritual profundity which it refers to him[228]. - - -2. RELIGIOUS LOVE - -Mind in its ultimate and most complete explication as reason is, as -such, not the immediate object of art. Its highest and most essentially -realized reconciliation can only find such satisfied consummation in -the intellectual medium as such, that is to say, the ideal medium which -is withdrawn from the reach of artistic expression; for absolute Truth -stands on a higher level than the show of beauty, which is unable -to break away from the sensuous and phenomenal. If, then, Spirit is -to receive an existence as _Spirit_ in its positive reconciliation -through the medium of art, an existence which is apprehended not merely -as ideal, in other words, as pure thought, but can be _felt_ and -_envisaged_, it follows that the only mode left to us, which supplies -this two-fold condition of spirituality on the one hand and of its -capability of being conceived and presented by art on the other, is -that of the inner realm of Spirit itself, what we understand by the -soul and its emotional experience. And the condition of that kingdom -which alone fully answers to the notion of free Spirit brought into -peace and joy with itself is _Love._ - -(_a_) In other words, if we look at the content, we shall see that its -articulation is in its important features similar to the fundamental -notion of absolute Spirit, the return of a reconciled presence from -its Other to itself. This Other in the sense of the Other, in which -Spirit continues by itself, can only be itself something spiritual, -or rather a spiritual personality. The true essence of love consists -in the surrender of the self-consciousness, in the forgetting oneself -in another self, yet for all that to have and possess oneself for the -first time in this very act of surrender and oblivion. This mediation -of Spirit with itself and surcharge of its own to the unit of totality -is the Absolute, not, however, of course, under the mode in which the -Absolute coalesces with itself as merely singular and thereby finite -individuality in another finite subject; rather the content of the -spiritual individuality which is here self-mediated in another is the -Absolute itself. It is, in short, Spirit which is only the knowledge -and volition of its own substance as the Absolute by being in another, -and which receives therewith the fruition of such knowledge. - -(_b_) More closely regarded this content as love has the form of -self-concentrated emotion, which, instead of making its content more -explicit, that is to say, presenting it to consciousness in its -definite terms and universality, rather converges the infinite breadth -of the same directly to one focus in the clear profundity of the soul, -without further unfolding in other directions for the imagination the -wealth which it essentially includes. By this means a content of equal -significance, which would be inconformable to artistic presentation, -is fresh from the mint of its pure and ideal universality, is none the -less capable of being the subject-matter of art in this individual -existence of subjective emotion; for while under a mode such as this it -is not on the one hand compelled to accept an articulation of perfect -clarity by reason of its still undisclosed depth, which is the obvious -characteristic of soul-life, yet on the other hand it receives under -this mode a medium that it is possible for art to make use of. For -soul-life, heart, feeling, however self-contained and spiritual they -may remain, have none the less a bond of affiliation with the sensuous -and material, so that they are able also on the outside show of things -through the bodily members themselves, through a look, the facial -expression, or in a still more spiritual way through the voice tones -or a word to disclose the inmost life and existence of Spirit. But -this exterior medium is in such a case only acceptable in so far as it -strictly expresses this most intimate life of soul in ways that reflect -the inward nature of the soul itself. - -(_c_) We defined the notion of the Ideal to be the reconciliation of -the inward life with its reality; we may now in like manner point -to the emotion of love as _the Ideal_ of romantic art in the sphere -of the religious consciousness. It is _spiritual_ beauty in its -pure emanation. The classic Ideal also exhibited the mediation and -reconcilement of Spirit with its Other. But here the opposing factor -of Spirit was the exterior medium suffused with that Spirit, it was -its bodily organism. In love, on the contrary, the opposing presence -of that which is spiritual is not the phenomenon of Nature, but a -spiritual consciousness itself, another subject of such; and the -realization of Spirit is consequently effected by Spirit itself in its -own kingdom, in that medium which is uniquely its own. It follows from -this that love in this its positive self-fruition and essentially -tranquillized and blessed realization is ideal, but before everything -else _spiritual_ beauty, which can only be expressed for the sake of -the ideal virtue it possesses and further only in and as a part of -the inmost shrine of the soul. For that Spirit, which is present in -_spirit_ to itself and is immediately aware of its own, which withal -possesses what is spiritual for the substance and bottom of its very -existence, abides in intimacy with itself, and, best definition of all, -is the inward being of Love. - -(_α_) God is Love; and consequently it is this most profound essence -which, in this form native to artistic presentation, is thus -apprehended and presented in the person of Christ. Christ is, however, -_Divine love_ in the sense that from one aspect of it declares God -Himself as its object, that is, God in the mode of His invisible -essence, and from another it as truly reveals humanity under the seal -of its redemption; and for this reason it is not so much in Him[229] -that the passage of one individual into another particular individual -is made manifest in His love, as the fact that we have here the _idea_ -of Love itself in its universality, in other words, the Absolute, -the spirit of Truth in the medium and mode of emotion. With the -universality of its object the expression of Love is also universalized -in pursuance of which the purely individual concentration of heart and -soul is not made the important point, just as among the Greeks in the -ancient Titan Eros and Venus Urania we find, though, of course, in an -entirely different connection, that it is the universal idea rather -than the individual side of personal form and feeling which is the -factor emphasized. Only when Christ is, in the presentation of romantic -art, rather conceived as at the same time the isolate self-absorbed -personality himself, is the expression of love clothed in the form of -individual inwardness, and even then it is, of course, always exalted -and uplifted by the universality of the content. - -(_β_) The kind of love, however, which in this sphere of art is most -within its reach and is generally the most successful object of the -romantic and religious imagination, is the love of Mary, the mother's -love. It stands closest to Nature's reality, is very human, and yet -entirely spiritual, without either the interest or the egotism of -sensual desire, not sensuous and yet present inward bliss in its -absolute condition of fruition. It is a love that has no longing -in it, not friendship, for friendship, albeit also so rich in soul -quality, requires a substantive content, an essential material as the -associating object. A mother's love, on the contrary, possesses without -any mutuality[230] of aim or interests an immediate basis in the -natural maternal bond. But in this particular case the mother's love -is just as little restricted to the purely natural affiliation. Mary -possesses in the child which she has carried under her heart and borne -with travail the perfected knowledge and feeling of her very self, and -this selfsame child, the blood of her blood, is also in equal degree -exalted above her, and yet for all that she is conscious that this -higher belongs to herself, and is precisely that she gains in her act -of self-oblivion and possession. The natural intimacy of the mother's -love is absolutely spiritualized, it receives for its very embodiment -the Divine; but this spiritual coherence remains lowly and unaware, -permeated in a wonderful manner with the unity of Nature and the -emotion of womanhood. It is the _blessed_ mother's love, and pertains -only to the _one_ mother, who first was recipient of its joy[231]. It -is quite true that even this love is not without its pain, but the pain -is merely the grief of loss, the lament over the suffering, dying, and -dead son, and, as we shall find it at a later stage[232], has nothing -to do with the injustice and torture suffered from a force without, or -with the infinite conflict with sin, still less with agonies and pangs -that arise in the soul. The inwardness of soul such as we have analysed -is the beauty of Spirit, the Ideal, the human identification of man -with God, with Spirit, with Truth; oblivion in its pure selflessness, -the surrender of the ego, which, however, in this surrender, is from -beginning to end at unity with that in which it is absorbed, and it is -in this coalescence that the feeling of blessedness is consummated. - -Under such a fair aspect we have maternal love embodied in romantic -art, and it is at the same time a picture of Spirit itself, because -Spirit is only apprehensible by art in the form of feeling; and the -feeling of that union of the individual with God in its most original, -most real, and most vivid form is only present in the mother's love of -the Madonna. It must inevitably form the subject-matter of art, if in -the representation of this, the sphere of the religious imagination, -the Ideal, the affirmative reconciliation in its joy is not to -fall short of its aim. There has consequently been a time when the -maternal love of the Blessed Virgin has been placed as the highest -and holiest of Earth's possessions, and as such has been revered and -presented to mankind. When, however, Spirit is brought before the human -consciousness in its own native element, separated, that is, from all -underlying emotion, the free mediation of Spirit that is built up on -such a foundation can alone be regarded as the free road to Truth; -and consequently we find that in Protestantism, as contrasted to this -worship of Mary whether in art or belief, it is the Holy Spirit, and -the inmost mediation of Spirit which has become the loftier truth. - -(_γ_) _Thirdly_, and in conclusion, the positive reconciliation of -spiritual life is embodied in the feelings of Christ's own disciples, -the women and friends who follow him. Such are for the most part -characters who have personally taken on themselves the severity of the -idea of Christianity, hand iii hand with their Divine friend, by virtue -of the friendship, teaching, and sermons of Christ, without passing -through the external and inward pangs of spiritual conversion, who have -carried it forward, made themselves masters both of it and themselves, -and in the depth of their hearts remain strong in the same. From such, -no doubt, the immediate unity and intimacy of that mother's love in a -measure vanishes; but they still possess as the bond which unites them -the presence of Christ, the common service to a great life which they -share, and the direct impulse of Spirit[233]. - - -3. THE SPIRIT OF THE COMMUNITY - -In making our passage over to a concluding stage of the subject under -discussion we can hardly do better than associate it with that which we -have already touched upon in connection with the history of Christ. -The immediate existence of Christ, as this particular man, who is God, -is assumed to be wiped out, in other words, the truth itself asserts -itself that in the manifestation of God as man, the true reality of -God thus envisaged is not immediate sensuous existence but Spirit. -The reality of the Absolute regarded as infinite subjectivity[234] is -simply Spirit itself; God is in knowledge, in the element of the inner -life, and only there. This absolute existence of God, as absolutely -ideal to the same extent as it is subjective[235] _universality_, does -not therefore admit of the limitations of this particular individual, -who has in the story of his life made manifest the reconciliation -between the Divine and human self-consciousness, but on the contrary -is enlarged to the full measure of the human consciousness which is -reconciled to God, that is, in general terms to our _humanity_, which -exists as an aggregate of many individuals. In his independence, -however, taken, that is, as a specific personality, man is not under -any immediate mode the Divine, but on the contrary finite and human, -which only in so far as it really propounds itself as a negation, which -it essentially is, and thereby annuls itself in this negative aspect, -can attain to the reconcilement with God. It is only by virtue of this -deliverance from the frailty of finitude that our humanity declares -itself as the vehicle of the existence of the absolute Spirit, as the -spirit of the community, in which the union of the human and Divine -Spirit within the bounds of human reality itself, in the sense of its -realized mediation, carries into fulfilment what essentially, if we -look at it in the light of the notion of Spirit, it is from the first -in that very union. - -The principal modes which are of importance in respect to this new -content of romantic art may be distinguished as follows: - -The individual, who in his separation from God lives in a condition -of sinfulness and conflict with the immediacy and frailty of finite -existence, possesses the eternal destiny to come into reconciliation -with himself and God. Inasmuch, however, as we find that in the -redemption-history of Christ the negative relation of immediate -singularity is affirmed and declared an essential feature in the -spiritual process, so, too, every particular individual is only through -a conversion from the natural state and his finite personality uplifted -to the free condition and into the peace of God. - -This abrogation of finitude asserts itself in a threefold manner as -follows: - -_First_, as the repetition in _actual life_ of the history of the -Passion, a repetition of real bodily suffering--martyrdom. - -_Secondly_, the above conversion is removed to the _inmost_ life of -soul, as spiritual mediation by means of repentance, penance, and -conversion. - -_Thirdly_, and finally the manifestation of the Divine is so conceived -in the world of Nature's reality that the ordinary course of Nature -and the natural mode of occurrences as they otherwise take place is -arrested, in order to display the might and presence of the Divine. -Wonder or miracle is consequently the form of presentation. - - -(_a_) _The Martyrs_ - -The earliest mode under which the spirit of the community makes itself -actively present in the human consciousness is effected when man forms -a mirror in himself of the Divine process and so makes himself a new -form of existence for the eternal Life[236] of God. Here we find once -more that the expression of that immediate and positive reconciliation -disappears, inasmuch as man can only attain to this by abrogating his -finite existence. Everything, therefore, that was of central importance -in the first stage returns to us again here only in an aggravated -degree, because the incompatibility and unworthiness of our humanity -is here presupposed, and to remedy this defect is assumed to be man's -supreme and unique duty. - -(_α_) The specific content of this phase is consequently the endurance -of torments, and along with such the individual's willing renunciation, -sacrifice, and self-imposed renunciation with the express aim of -arousing sufferings, tortures, and anguish of every kind in order that -Spirit may reveal itself therein, and feel itself in union with the -fruition and blessedness of its heaven[237]. The negative aspect of -pain is an object in itself for the true martyr, and the greatness of -the revelation is such that it can treat with indifference the awful -aspect of that which man has thus suffered, and the dreadful nature of -that to which he submits himself. The first thing, then, which will -be brought beneath the ruthless mace of negation in order that the -individual who still experiences this drought of the soul may wean -himself from the world and become sanctified, will be his _natural_ -existence, his life, the satisfaction of the most essential necessaries -of his bodily existence. The main subject-matter therefore of the -type we are now dealing with will be torments of the body, sufferings -which have been perpetrated on the believer either by his enemies and -persecutors out of hatred and persecution, or have been deliberately -accepted by himself on principle by way of expiation. In both cases -the individual accepts them in the full fanaticism of his readiness -to endure, not, that is to say, as an injustice to himself, but as a -blessing through which alone he is enabled to break down the walls of -what he feels to be his sinful flesh, heart, and soul, and so obtain -reconcilement with his God. - -In so far, however, as this conversion of the soul can only manifest -itself in such situations, in atrocities and awful treatment of the -bodily frame the beauty of the presentation of such subjects may be -very readily impaired; and, in fact, we may say that the treatment -of all subjects of this kind is a perilous undertaking for art. For, -on the one hand, it is obvious that individuals here, impressed as -they are wholly with the hall-mark of finite existence, and its -inevitable blemishes and defects, will have to be represented in an -entirely different atmosphere from that we claimed for the history of -Christ's Passion; and, from a further point of view, we unfortunately -meet with unheard of agonies and horrors in such cases, distortion, -and dislocation of limbs, bodily torments, scaffolds, decapitation, -burning or roasting in oil, flaying alive, and every other sort of -frightful, repugnant, and loathsome abuse of the body, such as lie -much too remote from beauty for any sane art to think of selecting -them for its subject-matter. The artistic dexterity of the artist may, -in such cases, no doubt, so far as execution is concerned, be of the -highest class; but, at best, such manual dexterity will merely possess -a personal interest, we may indeed find before us the technique of an -admirable painter; but it will be equally obvious that all his efforts -have been unable to produce out of such material a harmonious work of -art. - -(_β_) For these reasons it will be necessary that the artistic -presentation of this negative process should emphasize another aspect -of it, which stands out thereby above this agony of the body and soul, -and establishes in relief the positive presence of reconciliation. -This is just that essential reconcilement of Spirit which is finally -won as the result sought for of the pain suffered. Under an aspect -such as this the martyrs may be depicted as the guardians of the -Divine in conflict with the grossness of material force and barbarism -of unbelief. For the sake of their heavenly treasure they endure pain -and death, and this courage, steadfastness, endurance, and consolation -must consequently, with equal truth, appear upon them. And yet for all -that this intimate possession of their faith and love in its spiritual -beauty is no sanity of soul which brings to them a sense of the sanity -of their body; rather it is a sense of inward life, which has worked -its way through their pain itself, or at least is made manifest in -their suffering, and which, even in the moment of their ecstasy, -retains the experience of pain as an essential condition of their -beatitude. The art of painting has, in particular, made this attitude -of saintly humiliation the object of its efforts. What this art mainly -should strive after here is to delineate the bliss of such torments in -the pure and simple lines of the countenance and its expression, as -contrasted with the offensive laceration of the flesh; and to present -such an ecstasy as may reflect the surrender and victory over pain, -the fruition, in short, of the Divine Presence in the temple of the -soul. If, on the contrary, the art of sculpture seeks to give a visible -form to such a content, it will inevitably find itself less qualified -to depict this ecstasy of soul-life at this strain of its intensity -with such a concentrated power, and will consequently be compelled to -emphasize that aspect of pain and laceration in so far as it declares -itself in its full force on the bodily frame. - -(_γ_) _Thirdly_, it is to be observed that in the kind of examples -with which we are now dealing it is not merely the existence of Nature -and immediate finite conditions which is affected by this attitude -of self-abnegation and endurance, but the impulse of the soul is -transported by such feelings to an extreme point of this heavenly -rapture to such an extent, in fact, that what is merely human and of -the world, even when it is essentially beyond reproach on ethical or -rational grounds, is none the less thrust behind and scorned. In other -words, just in proportion as the Spirit, which here makes vivid to -itself the idea of its conversion, is in the first instance deficient -in an educated sense, to that extent it will with so much the more -uncontrollable and logical frenzy--the entire force of its piety being -concentrated on this one object--turn its back on everything which -as finite opposes this bare and abstract infinitude of its religious -fanaticism, that is to say, on every definite human emotion, all -the manifold ethical impulses, relations, and obligations of the -heart. For the moral life of the family, the bonds of friendship, of -blood, of love, of the State, and a man's calling, every one of them -belong to the things of the world; and all that is of the world, in -so far as it is not as yet suffused with the absolute conceptions of -faith and developed in unity and harmony with the same, appears to -this form of abstract spiritual intensity of the soul of faith so -far from being something acceptable to its emotional life and sense -of obligation, that it is, on the contrary, a thing of no worth at -all, and therefore both hostile and hurtful to its religious state. -The moral organism of the human world is consequently not as yet -respected, because its significant features and duties are not as -yet recognized as necessary, integrated members in the concatenation -of an essentially rational reality, in which nothing, it is true, -ought to assert itself in a one-sided and independent isolation, yet, -none the less, as an essential factor in the organic process, must -be maintained as such and not be sacrificed. In this respect the -religious reconciliation remains itself _one-sided_, and declares -itself in the truly simple heart as an intensity of belief which -is deficient in comprehensiveness, that is, as the piety of the -self-secluded soul, which has not yet attained in its growth to the -fully expanded self-reliance of maturity, and to conviction based on -genuine insight and circumspection. When the force of a soul deficient -in these qualities maintains its opposition to the world which is -thus treated in a purely negative way, and forcefully breaks loose -from all human ties, even though they may originally be the very -closest, we can only characterize such conduct as the rawness of Spirit -and a barbaric result of the power of abstraction, which is simply -repulsive. So we may say that though from the point of view of the -religious consciousness, as we find it to-day, it is indeed possible -to honour, and to honour highly, this opening germ of religiosity in -such representations, if, however, such a pious tendency proceeds to -such lengths that we find it advancing to lay siege to what is both -essentially rational and moral, then, so far from sympathizing with -such a fanaticism of sanctity, we can only protest that a kind of -abnegation such as this, which casts off from itself, shatters and -treads upon that which is independently justifiable, and even sacred, -appears to us both immoral in itself and subversive of the very type -of religion it represents. There are many legends, tales, and poems -which deal with this extreme form of the pious craze. We have, for -example, the tale of a man who, though full of tenderness for his wife -and family, and, moreover, beloved by all his friends, leaves his home -and makes a pilgrimage. When at last he returns home in the guise of -a beggar he refuses to disclose his identity. Alms are given him, -and out of compassion a permanent lodging provided under the stairs. -In this plight he lives for twenty years; he sees the grief of his -family on his account, and only declares who he is on his death-bed. -This kind of thing, which we are asked to revere as sanctity, is, of -course, merely the egotism of a fanatic which revolts us. This long -endurance of renunciation may remind us of the distrait nature of -those penances, which the Hindoos voluntarily impose on themselves -on religious grounds. But the endurance of the Hindoo has a very -different significance. In that case a man deliberately places himself -in a condition of vacuum and unconsciousness; in the case which we -are now considering the _pain_, and the deliberate consciousness and -feeling of the same is the real object, which it is assumed will be -attained with just so much more purity as the suffering is associated -with the consciousness of the value of and devotion to the severities -which are accepted, and is, moreover, united with a vision for ever -concentrated on the renunciation thus made. The richer the heart which -takes on itself the burden of such ordeals, the nobler the content -of its own possessions, and yet withal believes that it is bound to -condemn them as of no merit, just so much the more difficult grows the -task of reconciliation, and the more prone it is to bring about the -most terrible convulsions and the most raving distraction. Indeed, to -our vision, it is clear enough that a soul such as this, which is only -at home in a world which, however full of ideas, is not the world of -common experience, and which consequently only feels its grasp slipping -from the stable and paramount centres of activity and aims of this our -actual world, ay, and although it be with heart and soul held in and -associated with that world, yet regards all that is moral there simply -as something which contradicts its absolute destination--we can only -say that such a soul, both in its self-inflicted sufferings and its -renunciations, is from the rational point of view simply mad, so mad -that we can neither feel any profound compassion for it, nor propose -any means of liberation. What is lamentably lacking to a mode of life -of this kind is an object of real substance and valid significance; -what it proposes to secure is an aim wholly personal, an object sought -for by the individual for himself alone, for the salvation of his own -soul, for his own blessedness. Few are likely to concern themselves -very deeply whether an individual, at any rate one of this type, is or -ever will be happy[238]. - -(_b_) _The inward Penance and Conversion_ - -The kind of representation, in the same general class of cases which -we shall now contrast with the one above examined, turns aside from -the extremity of merely bodily suffering, as it is also from a further -point of view more indifferent to the purely negative impulse directed -against what is essentially just and right in the actual conditions of -the world; the material of such representations consequently, both in -respect to its content and its form, opens up a ground which is more -conformable with ideal art. And this ground is the conversion of the -_inner_ life of the soul, which only here seeks to express itself in -its _spiritual_ pain, and its change of heart. Here, therefore, we -find in the first place that we have no more of those ever repeated -horrors and barbarities of pain inflicted on man's poor body: and, -secondly, that which we have referred to as the barbarian religiosity -of the soul no longer holds fast to its antagonism as against the -purely ethical aspects of humanity in order to trample under iron foot -in the abstraction of its purely conceptive satisfaction[239], and -in the pain of an absolute renunciation that other kind of sensuous -enjoyment; for the most part its attention is now solely directed -against what is in fact sinful, criminal, and evil in human Nature. -We find here a lofty assurance that faith, this spiritual impulse -towards God, is capable of converting the past action, even though it -be a sin or a crime, into something alien to the man who perpetrated -it, washing it away in fact. This withdrawal out of evil, that wholly -negative condition, which is realized in the individual by the -subjective volition and spirit at once scorning and confounding itself -under its former state of evil--this return to the positive which -is now self-established as the only real in contrast to the former -state of sinfulness, is the truly infinite content of religious love, -the presence and actuality of absolute Spirit in the individual soul -itself. The feeling of the stability and endurability of the personal -existence, which through God, to which it addresses itself, triumphs -over evil, and in so far as it is thus mediated with Him is aware -of itself as one with Him, produces as its effect the fruition and -blessedness of contemplating God, it is true, in the first instance -as the absolute Other in His opposition to the sin inherent in finite -existence, but further of knowing this Infinite Presence as identical -with me as this particular person, of knowing, in short, that I carry -this self-consciousness of God, as the seat of my own personality, -that is to say, my own self-consciousness, as certainly as I carry -the sense of my own self-identity. Such a revolution takes place no -doubt entirely within the shrine of the soul, and belongs, therefore, -rather to religion than art: for the reason, however, that it is the -intimate movement of the soul, which pre-eminently makes itself master -of this act of conversion, and also is able to throw a gleam of light -through the external embodiment, a plastic art such as painting can -also claim to make visible the history of such conversions. If it -attempts, however, to depict the entire course of events which belong -to such a transition, much that is very far from being beautiful may -readily appear in the result, because in such a case both that which is -sinful and repulsive requires to be depicted, as, for example, in the -story of the prodigal son. Painting, therefore, achieves its greatest -success when it concentrates the act of conversion into _one_ picture -where that is the prevailing motive, and pays little or no attention -to the previous course of events. The ordinary presentations of Mary -Magdelene may be noted as an admirable example of this kind of work, -and particularly in the hands of the old Italian masters has been -treated in a way both excellent in itself and throughout consistently -with fine Art. She is depicted here both in the characterization of her -soul and her external presence as the _fair sinner_, in whom the sin no -less than the sanctity is intended to exercise a sort of fascination -on the spectator. But at the same time neither sin nor sanctity are -treated with any great intensity. She is forgiven much because she has -loved much, and her forgiveness is in a measure the portion both of her -love and her beauty. And what affects us most of all in this picture -is this, that she makes for herself a conscience as it were out of -her love, and robed in the beauty of her sensitive soul pours forth -her sorrow in a flood of tears. We are not led to feel that the fact -that she has loved so much is her error, but rather that her fair and -fascinating folly is this, namely, that she _believes_ herself to be a -sinner,[240] for her exquisitely sensitive beauty only leaves us the -impression that in her love she is both noble and profound. - -(_c_) _Miracles and Legends_ - -The final aspect, which is closely associated with the two above -considered, and is frequently asserted as a concomitant of both, is -that of miracle. It plays in fact an important part throughout this -stage of our inquiry. In this connection we may define miracle as the -conversion-history of the immediate existence of Nature. Such reality -lies before us as a commonplace, contingent existence. This finite -substance is touched by the hand of God, which, in so far as it strikes -upon what is purely external and particular, breaks it up, transmutes -it into something entirely different, interrupting what in ordinary -parlance we call the natural course of things. To bring before us the -soul arrested by such inexplicable phenomena, in which it imagines it -recognizes the presence of the Divine, vanquished, in short, in its -ordinary view of finite events, this is the main subject-matter of -a host of legends. In fact, however, the Divine can only touch and -dominate Nature as Reason, that is, in the unalterable laws of Nature -herself, as implanted therein by God, and the Divine has no occasion -to exploit Himself in the supreme sense of this term in particular -circumstances and modes of causation which run contrary to these -laws of Nature, for it is only the eternal laws and determinations -of reason which apply in any real sense to Nature. From another -point of view legends frequently carry with them quite unnecessarily -an amount of matter which is abstruse, out of taste, senseless, and -ridiculous, inasmuch as the intention is that both intellect and heart -should be stimulated to believe in the presence and activity of God -by precisely those things which are essentially irrational, false, -and heathenish. The consequent emotion, piety, and conversion of the -soul may even then awake our interest, but in that case it is only -on the _one_ side, namely, that of the soul: so soon as that enters -into relation with somewhat else outside it, and the idea is that this -external correlative shall effect the conversion of the heart, then we -inevitably require that such should not be wholly a meaningless and -irrational sequence of events. - -Such, then, would be the fundamental divisions of the substantive -content at this particular stage of our inquiry, regarding that content -as the self-subsistent Nature of God, or in its aspect as a spiritual -process, through which and in which He is Spirit. We have here the -absolute object, which art neither creates nor reveals out of itself, -but which it has received from religion which it approaches with the -conviction that it is _essentially_ true that it may express and -represent the same conformably to its modes. It is the content of the -believing, yearning soul, which is intrinsically the infinite totality -itself, so that for it the external medium remains to a more or less -degree outside it, or a matter of indifference, and is unable to be -brought completely into harmony with that inner life. And for this -reason it frequently presents a repellent material which art finds -itself unable wholly to subdue to its aims. - -[Footnote 224: _Nicht aufnehmend._ Not ready to absorb extraneous -matter.] - -[Footnote 225: This of course is an opinion which may be strongly -contested in its application to particular artists.] - -[Footnote 226: Hegel means not so much the history in which the whole -totality of events is comprised as that aspect of human history which -declares its universal significance as infinite spirit.] - -[Footnote 227: That is, of self-consciousness in all that it -implies--the personality of Christ, for example.] - -[Footnote 228: Hegel does not further dwell upon this relativity. But -the next paragraph explains what is really in his mind. The important -question, however, how far such events are worthy of credence as -objective history, to say nothing of the inadequacy of their artistic -presentation, one cannot but feel is deliberately evaded. What Hegel -would say no doubt was that the bare historical aspect was only of -relative importance. The main question was their significance in the -spiritual process. It is in this direction that much of our noblest -modern thought finds a certain indissoluble unreality of statement.] - -[Footnote 229: That is in Christ.] - -[Footnote 230: _Gleichkeit._ Equality, reciprocity.] - -[Footnote 231: We are reminded of our treasures in Christian art such -as the Virgin and Child in Tintoret's "Flight into Egypt," Rafael's -San, Sisto Madonna and the rest.] - -[Footnote 232: In other words as regarded at a later date by the -Church.] - -[Footnote 233: This statement hardly does justice to the profound -idealism of the epistles of St. Paul.] - -[Footnote 234: Perhaps "the infinite form of subjectivity" is better. -He means "the infinite form of individual self-consciousness."] - -[Footnote 235: That is, characterized by personality.] - -[Footnote 236: _Geschichte._ Life as an evolved Process.] - -[Footnote 237: Compare the poem of Meredith, "Theodolinda," in his -ballads of the Tragic Life. It is, in another aspect, that iron crown -which that thoughtful contemporary writer, Mr. H. W. Nevinson, refers -to in his Essays on Rebellion.] - -[Footnote 238: The elimination even of sympathy with such fanaticism -where it is quite sincere, a rare case no doubt, seems severe. The -best illustration in modern literature I know of the principle "all -or nothing," is Ibsen's great drama "Brandt." Readers of Carlyle will -doubtless recall from "Past and Present" and elsewhere that prophet's -repeated denunciations of the craze for personal happiness.] - -[Footnote 239: By _intellectuellen Befriedigung_ Hegel does not mean -"intellectual" in a good sense, but merely that the man imagines his -happiness in his mind rather than feels it through the senses. The -psychology of religious ecstasy, however, is a rather involved problem.] - -[Footnote 240: This analysis is rather surprising. Did Hegel, the -robust Swabian, really think the above the finest type of art's -presentations of the Magdalene? Does it not lean very closely to that -soft sentimentalism which a Carlo Dolci gives us in its decadence? At -any rate the idea that the Magdalene was not really a sinner flatly -contradicts the original references to her in the gospels, and to -my mind at any rate seems from the artistic point of view also to -destroy half the rare beauty of her repentance. The principle of -such an interpretation is surely the entirely pagan one, whether -Greek or French, that a great passion is its own justification -quite irrespective of moral considerations. She is the historical -impersonation of the frailty of a love too dependent on the senses, -not of one in which either nobility of bearing or extreme selflessness -is conspicuous. Hegel's analysis may be true enough of certain -pictures--but do they really present us the ideal; most assuredly not.] - - - - -CHAPTER II - -CHIVALRY - -The principle of the essentially infinite subjective consciousness -possesses for the content of faith and art in the first instance, as -we have already discovered, the Absolute itself, in other words the -Spirit of God as it is mediated and reconciled with the conscious -spirit of man and thereby is first itself independently free. This -romantic mysticism in its self-limitation to the sense of blessedness -in the Absolute Presence remains a mode of spiritual inwardness which -is abstract, because it confronts the things of the world in opposition -and rejects the same. Faith is, in an abstraction of this kind, -alienated from life, from the concrete reality of human existence, -removed from the positive relations of mankind to one another, who only -know and love each other in faith, and for the sake of their belief -as completely bound together in yet a third association, namely, the -spirit of the Christ community. This association is alone the clear -spring in which the image of that blessedness is reflected, without -it being necessary for man to look his brother first in the face, to -enter into any direct relation with another, or to experience the -unity of love, of trust, of confidence, of mutual aims and actions -in contact with the living concrete presence. That which constitutes -the hope and yearning of the inner life man here, in this sense of -exclusive religious intimacy, can only discover as actual life in the -kingdom of God, in the society of the Church. He has not as yet[241] -withdrawn this single identity in a third factor from his conscious -life in order that he may possess all that he is really himself in -his entire spiritual concreteness no less before his eyes directly -in the knowledge and volition of that other whole. The collective -religious content, it is true, assumes the mode of real existence, but -it is still an existence which is located in the ideal world of an -imagination which consumes the expanding boundaries of actual life. It -is still far away from attempting to satisfy its own life also in that -abundance which it receives from the world and its realization in the -world as the higher demand in the medium of life itself. - -It follows that the soul which found its initial consummation in the -simple feeling of Divine blessedness must step forth from this heavenly -kingdom peculiar to the _religious_ sphere, must undertake the effort -of self-introspection and assimilate a content which is, as vitally -present, adequate to the demands of the individual consciousness in -its fullest extension. And in this process that which was before a -_religious_ coalescence of soul is changed to one of _secular_ type. -Christ indeed said; "Ye must leave father and mother, and follow Me." -And in the like spirit: "Brother shall hate brother; men shall crucify -you and persecute you." But as soon as the kingdom of God has secured -a foothold in the world, and is actively employed in transfusing with -its spirit and illumining the aims and interests of that world; when -father, mother, and brother are already numbered in the community, -then the things of the world on their side commence to assert their -just claim to recognition and furtherance. If this claim is not merely -fought for but vindicated then also the negative attitude of the -religious spirit, which was at first exclusively hostile to all that -was merely human, vanishes; the spirit of man enlarges, it explores -the full scope of its actual presence, and unfolds its heart in the -entire world of reality[242]. The fundamental principle suffers no -alteration; the substantive and infinite self-consciousness merely -directs its attention to another province of its own kingdom. We may -perhaps define this transition in the statement that the individual -singularity is now as such singularity independent of its mediation -with God and self-subsistently free. For precisely in that mediation, -whereby it divested itself of its purely finite limitation and natural -life, it has passed over the path of mere negation, and reappears -after having thus secured an essentially _affirmative_ position, -in the condition of a consciousness that is free and as such makes -the demand that it shall, in virtue of its own infinitude, though -the infinitude is here only in the first instance one of pure form, -secure complete recognition both for itself and others. In this the -religious mode of the individual consciousness is reposed the entire -spiritual wealth of the infinite soul, which it has hitherto filled -up with God. If we, however, made the inquiry, of what material the -heart of man is suffused in this its inward repletion, such a content -merely concerns the infinite relation of the subjective consciousness -in its active self-relation; it is simply replete with its own -formal medium, that is, as essentially infinite singularity without -further and more concrete expansion and significance as a content of -interests, aims, and actions which is itself essentially objective -and substantive[243]. If we further examine the matter, however, more -closely we shall see there are in the main _three_ emotions, which -in their independence rise up in the individual soul to the level of -this infinite mode, namely personal _honour, love_, and _fidelity._ -They are not so much moral qualities and virtues as simply modes which -inform the intimate presence of the individual soul when fulfilled -with its own self-relation as such is recognized by romance. For the -personal self-subsistency for which _honour_ contends does not assert -itself as intrepitude on behalf of a communal weal, and the repute -of thoroughness in relation to it and integrity of private life. -On the contrary it contends simply for the recognition and formal -inviolability of the individual person. The same principle applies to -_love_, which forms the central subject-matter of this sphere. It is -merely the adventitious passion of one individual for another; and -however much it may expand under the wand of imagination or may be -deepened by excess of emotion, it is for all that neither the ethical -relation of marriage or family. _Fidelity_ possesses no doubt more -the appearance of a moral character, inasmuch as it does not merely -will its own but holds fast to something higher, something shared -with itself, surrenders itself to another's will, whether it be the -wish or behest of a master, and thereby renounces the personal desire -and independence of its own particular volition. But the feeling of -loyalty does not concern the objective interest of the social weal -in its independent form, that is, in the concrete freedom of the -developed state life, but associates itself merely with the _person_ -of a master, who, in his own fashion, acts with independence, or -concentrates himself in more general relations and is active on their -behalf[244]. These three modes of feeling taken together and as they -reciprocally affect one another constitute with the exception of the -religious relation, which also has its part to play here, the principal -content of _chivalry_, and furnish the necessary steps of advance -from the principle of purely religious enthusiasm to the entrance of -the individual soul into the concrete social life of the world, in -the kingdom of which romantic art now secures a platform on which it -can from its own resources work out its independence, and at the same -time embody a freer type of beauty. It stands here, so to speak, in -the free room midway between the absolute content of the independently -stable religious conceptions and the varied particularity and -restricted boundaries of the finite world. Among the various arts it is -pre-eminently poetry which has shown itself most qualified to master -such a material, its modes of expression being directed to the life of -the soul as wholly occupied with its own domain and as realized in its -aims and events. - -Inasmuch as we now have before us a material which man takes possession -of in his own spiritual life, or rather, from the world of his pure -humanity, we might at first suppose that romantic art occupied the -same ground as that of classic art. This, therefore, is an excellent -opportunity for placing them together both in comparison and -contrast. We have already defined classical art the Ideal of humanity -certified as true in its objective self-subsistence. Its imaginative -vitality requires as its core a content which is substantive in type -and excludes an ethical pathos. The Homeric poems, the tragedies of -Sophocles and Aeschylus, are in the main concerned with interests -of an absolutely factual content, an austere treatment of the -passions reflected therein, a solid style of speech and execution in -conformity with the nature of the ideas expressed, and above this -domain of heroes and other figures which alone are in their individual -self-concentration at home in such an atmosphere of pathos we have -the realm of the gods at a still more advanced stage of objective -presentment. Even in the case where art, in more introspective fashion, -is occupied with the infinite experiments of sculpture, bas-reliefs and -similar forms, or the later elegies, epigrams, and other diversions -of lyrical poetry, we still have the same type before us, that is to -say, the type which portrays the object more or less as it finds it, -and obedient to the claim that it already has secured its constructive -presentment. We have, in short, represented figures of the imagination -already established and defined in their characterization such as -Venus, Bacchus, or the Muses. It is just the same with the later -epigrams, where we get the description of a material already to hand -or, as in the case of Meleager, a posy of well-known flowers, bound -together with the cords of exquisite feeling and taste. It is, in -short, an exhilarating mode of activity carried on in a wealthily -furnished house overflowing in its stores with every kind of bounty, -image and provision for every conceivable object. The poet and the -artist is simply the magician, who wafts them into use, collects and -groups them. - -It is wholly different in romantic poetry. In so far as it is of the -world worldly, and is not directly associated with the story of our -Lord, the virtues and objects of its heroism are not those of the -Greek heroes, whose type of morality Christendom in its early days -simply regarded as a brilliant enormity. Greek morality presupposes -the presence of humanity in its complete configuration, in which -the volition then and there as it ought to act conformably to its -essential notion of independence has received a definite content and -the actual conditions of freedom imperatively valid such as belong to -that content. Such are the relations of parents and children, married -persons, or of citizens of city or State in the realized liberty of -such. Now inasmuch as this objective content of human affairs belongs -to the _evolution_ of man's spirit on the basis of Nature cognized -and insured as actual fact, it is unable any longer to satisfy that -self-absorbed introspection of the religious life, which seeks to -destroy the natural aspect of human life, and must deviate considerably -from the virtue of humility which opposes it, and the surrender of -human freedom and its staunch self-dependence. The virtues of Christian -piety simply prove the death of such a world-attitude if held in their -extreme of abstraction, and only make the individual free, when he -absolutely denies the human part of him. The individual freedom of our -present sphere is no doubt no longer conditioned by mere endurance -and self-sacrifice but essentially positive in the world arena; that -infinite self-relation of the individual has, however, as we have -already discovered, the inward realm of the soul as its content and -only that, the subjective soul, that is, whose movement is in its own -peculiar medium, as the secular ground of its own domain. In this -connection poetry does not draw from any objective material already -presented it, no mythology, for instance, no imaginative pictures -and embodiments, which already lie ready waiting for its expression. -It stands there wholly free, without any extraneous matter, purely -creative and productive. It is free as a bird that sings straight -from its breast. It follows, then, if this subjective activity -proceeds also from a noble will and a profound soul, we shall merely -have in its workings and relations and existence the evidence of -caprice and contingency, for the reason that freedom and its aims -proceed, relatively to a content which is throughout immaterial, from -internal self-reflection. And, consequently, we do not find so much in -individuals a particular pathos in the Greek conception of the term -and a vital self-subsistency of character associated with it by the -closest bonds, as that which is simply a grade of heroic conception in -its connection with love, honour, bravery, and fidelity; a grade into -which it is mainly the nobility or depravity of soul which imports the -distinguishing features. The characteristic trait, however, which the -heroes of the Middle Ages possess in common with those of antiquity -is that of _bravery._ Yet even this receives a totally different -complexion. It is not so much a natural courage, which reposes on the -character that is sane and sound, and flows forth from the growth of -an unimpaired robustness of body and will, assisting the execution of -objective interests. Rather it is the outcome of the secret wealth of -the soul, its honour and chivalry, and is in the main a creation of -the phantasy, which undertakes adventures that have their origin in -individual caprice and the chance intricacies of external circumstance -or the impulses of mystical piety, and we may add generally the -personal attitude of the individual. - -This romantic type of art finds a home, then, in two hemispheres, in -the Western world as this penetration into the more intimate shrine of -Spirit, in the Eastern this its first expansion of the self-absorbed -consciousness as it frees itself from the finite environment. In the -West poetry reposes on a soul which is withdrawn upon its resources, -which has become the centre of its activity, yet possesses this flavour -of secularly merely as one part of its complexion, as one aspect, over -which is superposed a yet loftier world of belief. In the East it is -the Arab above all, who as a solitary,[245] who in the first instance -has nothing before his eyes but his dried-up desert and his heavens, -stands forth in the full strength of life as the proclaimer of the -splendour and primary extension of the world of Nature, and thereby -still preserves at the same time the freedom of his soul. And generally -we may say that in the Orient it is the Mohammedan religion, which -has cleared the ground, made an end of all idolatry in the service -of finite things or the imagination, and given the soul at the same -time the personal freedom, which wholly floods the same, so that the -secularity does not here only constitute another province, but runs -beyond it into the universal licence, where heart and mind, without -ascribing any objective reality to God, find their reconciliation in -the jubilant lust of living just like beggars by throwing the glory -of their fancy on the objects around them: enjoy their loves and are -happy, blessed, and contented. - - -1. HONOUR - -The motive of honour was unknown to ancient classic art. In the "Iliad" -it is quite true that the wrath of Achilles constitutes both the -content and the motive principle, so that the entire series of events -is dependent upon it; but what we moderns understand by the term honour -is not grasped here at all. Achilles believes himself to be insulted -to all intents and purposes only in the fact that the share in the -booty which he considers justly to belong to him and the reward of -his personal merits, his _γέρας_, has been taken away by Agamemnon. -The insult here has a direct reference to something actual, a bounty, -in which no doubt a privilege, a recognition of fame and bravery was -reposed, and Achilles is enraged because Agamemnon meets him unworthily -and lets the Greeks know that they are not to pay any attention to -him. An insult of this kind is not driven home to the real centre -of personality in its abstract purity; in fact Achilles expresses -himself satisfied with the restitution of the abducted slave and the -addition of other goods and bounties, and Agamemnon finally makes this -reparation although from our point of view they have both insulted one -another in the grossest fashion. Maledictions of this kind, however, -have only made them angry; and, after all, the particular insult, which -has reference to a matter of fact, is done away with in the same matter -of fact fashion. - -(_a_) The honour of romance is, on the contrary, of another kind. -Insult has no reference here to the factual values of real things, -property, status, obligation, etc., but to personality simply, and -its idea of its own importance, the work which the individual claims -as his right. This worth is in the cases we are now discussing of -an infinite significance equal to that of personality itself. In -honour, therefore, man possesses the earliest positive consciousness -of his infinite spiritual medium, independent of the content. What -the individual has, what in him something peculiar creates, after -the loss of which it may yet subsist precisely as it did before--in -this elusive something the absolute validity of the entire subjective -life is reposed and apprehended in it both for itself and others. -The determining measure of honour therefore does not depend on what -the individual really is, but on what is contained in this personal -self-regard. This regard, however, raises all particularity to the -level of the universal conception that the personal core in its full -significance resides in this particularity which it claims as its own. -Honour is merely an outward show it is sometimes said. No doubt this is -so: but from our present point of view we must, if we look at it more -narrowly, accept it as the appearance and reappearance of the personal -medium self-reflected, which as the semblance of an entity essentially -infinite is itself infinite. And through this infinitude it is just -this show or semblance of honour which is the real existence of the -individual, its highest actuality; and every particular quality, into -which honour is reflected and appropriates as its own is by virtue of -this show exalted itself to an infinite worth. This type of honour -constitutes a fundamental determinant in the romantic world, and -presupposes that man has not merely passed beyond the limits of purely -religious conception and inward life, but actually entered the arena -of the great world and makes itself vital in the material of the same -simply by virtue of the pure medium of its personal self-subsistence -and absolute intension[246]. - -The _content_ of honour may be of the most varied kind. For everything -that I am, do, or is done to me by others affects my honour. We may -consequently reckon within its boundaries the out and out substantive -itself, loyalty towards princes, fatherland, a man's profession, -fulfilment of obligations, marital fidelity, integrity in business -affairs and conscientiousness in scientific research. For the point -of view of honour, however, all these essentially valid and veritable -relations are neither sanctioned nor recognized in and through -themselves, but only so far as the individual reposes in them his -personal relation and makes them thereby matters affecting his honour. -A man of honour consequently always thinks first of all about himself, -and the question for him is not if anything is on principle right -or not, but whether it is the right thing for him to do, whether it -becomes him then as a man of honour to make himself master in it and to -stand by it. And consequently he may also perpetrate the worst actions -and still be a man of honour. He creates at the same time objects at -will, imagines himself of a specific character, and appropriates to -himself, both as he sees himself and is seen by others, that which -in the natural order of things has nothing to do with him at all. -Even then it is not the natural fact, but the personal view of it -which places difficulties and devolutions in the path, because it has -become an affair of honour to maintain that character. So, to take -an example, Donna Diana conceives it to be derogatory to her honour -to confess in any way the love she feels, because she has pledged -herself not to listen to love. In general we may say, then, that the -content of love is at the mercy of accident, because its validity -depends purely on the personal attitude, and is not directed by that -which is the essential mode of the inner life itself. For this reason -we may observe that in romantic representations on the one hand that -which is on principle justifiable is expressed as the _law_ of honour, -the individual associating with the consciousness of right at the -same time the infinite self-conscious unit of his personality. What -is then expressed by the statement that honour makes such and such a -demand, or forbids it, is this that the entire personal attitude of -consciousness implants itself within the content of such a demand or -prohibition so that no trespass in any transaction can fail to attract -its attention without a repair and restoration being effected; and -we may add the individual is unable to attend to any other content. -Conversely, however, honour may resolve itself into something wholly -formal and contentless, in so far as it contains nothing but the shell -of the Ego, which is formally infinite, or only accepts an entirely -bad content as obligatory upon it. In this case, more particularly -in dramatic representations, honour remains but a wholly frosty and -unvitalized object: its aims express no longer an essential content -but simply an abstract form of consciousness. But it is only an -essentially substantive content which possesses the contingency of law, -and is capable of explication in its multifold environment, and can be -apprehended in its imperative sequence of consequences. This defect -in profound content especially rises to the surface when casuistry of -reflection includes within the embrace of honour matter which is purely -accidental and insignificant which the individual comes in contact -with. There is never a lack of material, because this casuistical -tendency analyses with great subtlety in its modes of distinction, -and many aspects may be elicited and made the subject of honour which -in themselves are quite unimportant Above all the Spaniards have -elaborated this casuistry of reflection over matters of honour in their -dramatic poetry, and made their particular heroes of honour deduce all -their consequences in their speeches. In this way the fidelity of the -married woman may form a subject of investigation into the minutest -details, and the mere suspicion of another, nay, the possibility of -such even when the husband is aware that the suspicion is false may -be an affair of honour. If this leads to collisions we can derive no -real satisfaction from the process, because we have nothing of material -moment to arrest us, and consequently instead of the resolution of an -antagonism which is causally inevitable we can only extract from it a -painfully contracted feeling. Also in French plays we frequently find -that it is an honour which is barren, that is entirely abstract, which -is made the essential fulcrum of interest Still more extreme is this -essentially frostlike and lifeless type of it apparent in the drama -"Alarcos" of Herr Friedrich von Schlegel. The hero here murders his -noble and loving wife. And we ask why. Simply for honour's sake; and -this honour consists in this that he may marry the king's daughter, for -whom he entertains no affection, and thus become the king's son-in-law. -Such a pattern is of course contemptible and an ignoble conception -which merely prides itself as something lofty and of infinite intension. - -(_b_) Inasmuch, then, as honour is not only a semblance in me myself, -but must also exist in the mind and recognition of _another_, which -again on its part makes a claim to a similar honourable recognition, -honour is the extreme embodiment of _vulnerability._ For it is purely -a matter of personal caprice how far I choose to extend the claim -and to what material I care to relate it. The smallest offence may -be in this respect of significance; and inasmuch as man is placed -relatively to concrete reality in the most manifold relations with a -thousand things, and is able to extend practically without limit the -sphere of that which he conceives to affect him, and to which he -is placed in the relation of honour it follows that when we come to -deal with the independence of mankind and the obstinate isolation of -their units, aspects for which the principle of honour is in the main -responsible, there is no end to the strife and contention to which -they give rise. Moreover, in the case of insult also no less than in -that of honour generally, the important matter is not the content, in -which I necessarily feel myself insulted; for that which is negated -has reference to the personality which has appropriated such a content -as its own, and now conceives itself as this ideal centrum of infinity -attacked. - -(_c_) For such reasons every insult to honour is regarded as -essentially of an infinite significance. It can consequently only -be repaired by means which possess that character. No doubt we may -have many degrees of insult, and as many modes of satisfaction; what -however at the stage we are now considering any man may take as an -insult, how far he will feel himself as insulted and claim satisfaction -therefore, such considerations depend once more wholly on the personal -caprice of the particular person, which is justified in pursuing its -object to the utmost point of scrupulosity and outraged feeling. In -this process of satisfaction, which is here claimed, it is essential -that the man who delivers the insult no less than he who receives it -should be recognized as a man of honour. For the latter requires the -free recognition of his honour from the former; but in order to have -honour in his eyes and through his action that man must appear to -the recipient of insult as a man of honour, in other words he must -substantiate by virtue of his personality the infinite character of the -insult which he has laid upon the outraged man and despite his personal -enmity that is thereby directed against him. - -It is, then, a fundamental determinant in the general principle of -honour that no one through his actions can give to any one a right over -himself; and consequently all that he has done and may have initiated -will be regarded both previous to its commencement and after its -conclusion as unalterably affiliated to infinity, and will be accepted -and treated under such a qualitative relation. - -Moreover, since honour, in its conflicts and its satisfaction in this -respect, depends on personal independence, which is conscious of -itself as subject to no limitation, but acts directly from its own -resources, we find a fact recur to our attention, which we previously -observed fundamentally characterized the heroic figures of the Ideal, -namely the self-subsistence of individuality. In honour, however, we -have not merely the secure self-dependence and action from personal -resources, but this self-subsistence is in this case united with _the -idea of itself_; and it is just this preconception which constitutes -the real content of honour in the sense that it perceives what is its -own in that which is presented exterior to it, and envisages itself -therein to the full extent of its personal life. Honour is consequently -a self-subsistence, which is a _self reflection_, and possesses in such -a reflection its exclusive essence, and moreover leaves it wholly to -accident whether its content be that which is essentially moral and -necessary, or contingent and insignificant. - - -2. LOVE - -The second emotional source which plays a predominant part in the -productions of romantic art is _love._ - -(_a_) We have found in honour that the individual conscious life, -as it prefigures itself in its absolute _independence_, forms the -fundamental determinant; in a similar way the highest attitude of -love is the _surrender_ of the personal life to some object of the -opposed sex, a sacrifice of its independent consciousness and its -personal isolation, which for the first time in the consciousness of -another, is aware emotionally that it has thoroughly brought home to -itself its own self-knowledge. In this respect we may contrast love -and honour. Conversely, however, we are entitled to regard love as the -_realization_ of that which was already inherent in honour, in so far -as honour claims recognition[247] that it should be received in another -as the infinite significance of personality. This recognition is only -true and complete when it is not merely my personality in the abstract, -or in a concrete and consequently restricted case, is respected by -another, but when I, in the' entire significance of my personal -resources, with everything this either emphasizes or includes, as this -particular person in all my past, present, and future relations, both -penetrate the conscious life of another, and, in fact, constitute the -object of his real volition and knowledge, his effort and his property. -In this respect it is this same inward infinitude of the individual -which makes love of such importance to romantic art, an importance -which is materially enhanced by the exalted character of the wealth -which the notion of love itself carries. - -More closely, then, love does not subsist, as may frequently happen -in the case of honour, upon the subject-matter of the mind and the -casuistry of reflection, but originates in the emotions, and for the -reason that here the distinctions of sex play an important part, -possesses at the same time for its basis natural conditions as already -related to spirit life. This basis is, however, only present in the -sense that the individual comes into relation with such conditions by -way of his soul-life, that essentially infinite aspect of himself. - -This state of a man's losing his own consciousness in another, this -appearance of disinterestedness and unselfishness, by virtue of which -a man first really finds himself and comes to himself--this oblivion -of his own, so that the lover no longer exists, or is careful for -himself, but discovers the roots of that life in another, and yet -only comes into the full enjoyment of himself in that other is what -gives us the infinite relation of love; and we must look for beauty -mainly in so far as this feeling does not persist as mere impulse -and emotion, but through the imagination makes its world conform to -such a condition, exalts everything which otherwise belongs by virtue -of its interest, circumstances, and objects to real existence and -life, into an adornment of this feeling, bears away all else into the -charmed circle, and only attaches a value to it in this relation. -More particularly it is in female characters that love appears in -most beautiful guise because this sacrifice, this surrender, is with -them as the culmination of everything else. It is these qualities, in -fact, which concentrate and extend life in its spiritual breadth and -reality to the wealth of this emotion, which alone discover within -it a stay for existence, and if any misfortune sweeps across the -path, vanish like a light which is extinguished by the first rude -breath[248]. In this personal and intimate sense of feeling love is -not presented in classical art, and only appears as a feature of quite -secondary importance for the representation, or is only conspicuous -under its aspect of physical enjoyment. In Homer, either we find it is -not emphasized at all, or love appears in its most respected type as -wedded love in the sphere of the domestic state, exemplified in the -figure of Penelope, or as solicitude of wife and mother, exemplified -in the case of Andromache, or in other ethical relations of a similar -character. The tie, on the other hand, which unites Paris to Helen is -recognized as immoral, and the cause of the horror and fatal course of -the Trojan war. The love, too, of Achilles for Briseis has little depth -of sentiment or spiritual flavour, for Briseis is a slave entirely at -his disposition. In the odes of Sappho it is true that the language -of love receives the dramatic emphasis of lyrical enthusiasm; yet it -is rather the insinuating and devouring flame of the blood which is -here expressed than the profound emotion of the singer's heart and -soul. From another aspect we find in the short and charming odes of -Anacreon a wider and more jovial sense of enjoyment, which sports with -delight on the immediate sense of enjoyment as over something to be -simply accepted as it falls without troubling itself with infinite -heartaches, without this overmastering of the entire life or the pious -submission of a burdened, yearning, and yielding soul; in this type -the point of infinite importance whether it is precisely this or that -girl which you possess is as absolutely disregarded as the monkish -notion that you should shun maidenhood altogether. The lofty tragedy -of the ancients does not recognize the passion of love in its romantic -significance. Pre-eminently in the case of both Aeschylus and Sophocles -we find that it makes no pretension to contribute to the main interest -of the drama. For although Antigone is the accepted lover of Haemon, -and Haemon claims her before his father, nay, goes to the length of -committing suicide because he is unable to deliver her, yet it is the -external aspects of the case rather than the power of his own personal -passion, which, we may also note, is not that of a modern lover, which -he emphasizes before Creon. As a more essential type of pathos love -is treated by Euripides in the "Phaedra." But here, too, it rather -makes itself felt as a criminal aberration of the blood, as a passion -of the senses, initiated by Aphrodite, who is desirous of slaying -Hippolytus, because he refuses to sacrifice to her. In the same way we -have, no doubt, in the Medicean Aphrodite a plastic figure of love, -whose exquisite pose and lovely elaboration of bodily form is quite -consummate; but any profound expression of soul-life such as romantic -art demands is wholly absent. On the other hand, the immortality of -Petrarca, although he himself treated his sonnets in the light of -recreation, and it was rather through his Latin poems and other works -that he appealed to posterity, is due to this very love of the fancy -which, under an Italian sky, joined sisterly hands with religion in -the medium of a somewhat artificial outpouring of the heart. Dante's -exaltation, too, originated in his love for Beatrice, which was -transfigured in his soul to the white fervour of religious ecstasy, -while the courage and boldness of his genius created energetically -a religious outlook on the world, in which he dared, an attempt -impossible without such gifts, to constitute himself the judge of -mankind, and to apportion to individuals hell, purgatory, or paradise. -In contrast to an exaltation of this kind love is placed before us by -Boccaccio in those romances of his, in which he brings before our eyes -the morals and life of his country, partly in all its impetuosity of -passion, partly, too, in the spirit of frivolity without any ethical -aim whatever. In the songs of the German Minnesingers we find a type -of love, sensitive, tender, without much generosity of imagination, -sportive, melancholy, and monotonous. Among the Spaniards it is copious -in imaginative expression, chivalrous, somewhat casuistical in its -discovery and defence of rights and duties, so far as they relate to -private affairs of honour; and in this respect also possesses all the -richest splendour of enthusiasm. In contrast to this among Frenchmen -of more modern times love is more an affair of gallantry with a -distinct bias toward vanity, an artificial state of feeling converted -to the uses of poetry with a kind of sophistry of the senses often -marked with the finest wit, at one time expressing a kind of sensuous -enjoyment which is devoid of passion, at another a passion that brings -with it no enjoyment, a sublimated condition of feeling and sensibility -which feeds upon the maxims of reflection. But I must here break off -these general indications which our subject does not permit me now to -carry further. - -(_b_) More closely looked at the secular interest may be treated -under two general divisions. We have on the one side secularity as -actually organized, such as family life, the tie of citizenship and -politics, law, justice, morality, and the rest; and in opposition to -this[249] independent and assured existence love springs up in noble -and impetuous spirits; this world-religion of hearts, which at one -time we find joining hands with religion in every respect, while at -another it supersedes it, forgets it, and by constituting itself the -single essential, or rather the unique and supreme condition of life, -is not only prepared to renounce all else, and to fly for refuge to a -desert with the beloved, but proceeds in this extremity of its passion, -which we can only exclude from the domain of beauty, to sacrifice all -the worth of humanity in a manner at once servile, degrading, and -despicable. An example of this we have in "Kätchen von Heilbronn." On -account of this cataclysm of life's essential interests the objects -of love cannot be realized without _collisions_ in the theatre of the -world. For despite of love the general conditions of life make their -demand and assert their claims and the despotism of love's passion is -unable to maintain itself against them with impunity. - -(_α_) The first and most frequently exemplified type of collision we -may draw attention to is that between _honour_ and _love._ In other -words, honour possesses just as love possesses in its own right this -infinitude of claim, and may accept a content, which may confront love -as a positive obstacle in its path. The obligations of honour may -require the sacrifice of love. From a certain point of view it would -be, for example, dishonourable for a man of high rank to wed one of the -lower classes. The distinction between class and class is a necessary -fact of natural condition as ordinarily presented[250]. And so long -as our secular life has not been emancipated through the infinite -notion of true freedom, whatever may be the class or profession from -which that life in the particular individual and his free choice takes -its rise, to that extent it will always be Nature, that is, the birth -condition, which to a greater or less degree will, on the one hand, -determine the social position; and, on the other, these distinctions -of status, as they thus originate, and quite independently of general -grounds of honour, in so far as social position is made an affair of -honour, will maintain themselves as of absolute and infinite stability. - -(_β_) Quite apart, however, from questions of honour we must add as -a further example of collision that the eternal and _substantive_ -powers themselves, the interests of the State, love of country, family -obligations, and the rest, come into conflict with love and preclude -its realization. Particularly in modern representations, in which the -objective conditions of life have been already elaborated in all their -available stringency, this is a favourite type of collision. Love is in -such cases, as itself an important right of the personal soul, either -set forth in opposition to other rights and duties, or despite of its -own recognition of such it enters upon a conflict with them reliant -upon itself and with the power of its private passion. The "Maid of -Orleans"[251] is an example of a drama which rests upon a collision of -this kind. - -(_γ_) And in the _third_ case we may find in a general way that -_external_ condition and its impediments oppose obstacles in the path -of love. Such are the ordinary course of events, the prose of ordinary -existence, misfortunes, passion, prejudice, follies, the selfishness -of others, occurrences of every conceivable complexity and kind. Much -will here present itself that is hateful, terrible, and mean, for -it is mainly the evil, ruthless, and savage aspects of other forms -of human passion which work contrary to the tender spiritual beauty -of love. More particularly in later times we frequently come across -external collisions of this sort in dramas, narratives, and romances, -works whose main interest centres in a sympathy for the sufferings, -expectations, and ruined prospects of unhappy lovers and affect or -satisfy us by means of their bad or happy endings, or merely provide -entertainment. This type of conflict, however, on the ground that it -merely depends upon accidental matters, is a subordinate one. - -(_c_) No doubt love, from whatever of these points of view you choose -to regard it, possesses a lofty quality, in so far as it does not -merely remain an impulse of sex-attraction, but emphasizes the bounty -of a really rich, beautiful, and noble soul, and is a living, active, -courageous, and disinterested bond of union between one person and -another. But romantic love is also not without its _limitation._ -That which disappears from its content is the essentially realized -_universality._[252] It is merely the _personal_ feeling of one -particular individual, which does not attest itself as fulfilled -with interest of eternal import and the actual content of organic -human life, as made up of family, political aims, one's own country, -obligations of profession, status, freedom, and religion, but merely -with the personal consideration which is intent upon receiving again -such private feeling as reflected back from some one else. Such -a content of what is itself still but a formal mode of spiritual -life does not correspond in full truth to the totality, which the -essentially complete personality[253] ought to be. In the family, -marriage, duty, and the State the personal feeling simply as such and -the unity which issues from it with some particular person and no other -is not the main point of interest. In the love of romance, however, -all centres in the fact that this man or woman loves that woman or man -and _no one else._ Yet it is precisely this fact that it is only this -or that person, which is solely based upon personal idiosyncracy, in -other words, the contingency of caprice. There is no lover who does -not think his beloved, no maiden who does not fancy her lover, as the -fairest and most supreme, to the exclusion of all others, although -they may appear very ordinary mortals in the eyes of other folk. But -in just this fact that all the world or, let us say, a large number, -act thus exclusively, and will not make an exception in favour of the -unique Aphrodite herself, but rather possess an Aphrodite of their -own, and very easily somewhat more than Aphrodite, we can only very -obviously conclude that there are many who pass for the same fairy -Princess, as no doubt every one knows well enough, that there are a -whole bevy of pretty or good and excellent girls in the world, all -of whom, or let us hope the majority, will secure their own lovers, -adorers, and husbands, to whom they doubtless appear as gifted in like -manner with all the beauty and virtue of Christendom. To bestow in -every case our preference on one, and only one, is obviously a wholly -private affair of the heart and of the separate individuality of each -person, and the incommensurable obstinacy in discovering as though by -a law of necessity one's life and supremest sense of such in just that -one individual is proof that it is a caprice no less infinite in its -significance than it is inevitable. We have without question in this -attitude the loftier freedom of the personal life and its absolute -power of choice recognized, the power to be, not merely as we find -in the "Phaedra" of Euripides, under the constraint of a pathos, a -divinity; but in regard to the absolutely individual volition, from -which such a liberty proceeds, such a choice appears at the same time -to be a mere idiosyncrasy, an inflexibility of that which is wholly -self-exclusive. - -For this reason the collisions of love, more particularly when it is -set in hostile opposition to substantive interests, retain an aspect of -contingency and lack of authorization, because it is the personal life -as such which confronts in opposition with a demand not independently -justifiable that which for its own essential sake has a claim to -recognition. The personalities in the lofty tragedy of the ancients -such as Agamemnon, Clytemnestra, Orestes, Oedipus, Antigone, and -Creon have, it is true, among other things a personal object; but the -substantive thing, the pathos, which as the content of their action is -the compelling force behind them, is of absolute authority, and for -this very reason, is also itself essentially of universal interest. -The destiny which affects them on account of their action does not -therefore move us on the ground that it is a fate of misfortune, -but because it is a misfortune which affects or redounds to their -honour. In other words the pathos, which will not rest until it is -satisfied, possesses an essentially necessary content. When the guilt -of Clytemnestra, in this concrete case of it, receives no punishment, -when the insult which Antigone receives as sister[254] is not removed, -in both cases we have a substantial wrong. These sufferings of love, -however, these shattered hopes, this being in love generally, these -infinite pains experienced by lovers, this measureless happiness and -bliss which such imagine, are no such essential interest but rather -something that merely affects themselves. All men, it is true, should -be sensitive to love and may claim satisfaction in this respect. But -when a man fails to secure that object in some particular place, in -precisely this or that association, under just these circumstances -and in respect to one unique maiden we can admit no absolute wrong. -There is nothing essentially inevitable in the fact that a man should -capriciously select any particular young woman, and that we should -interest ourselves consequently for that which is in the highest degree -accidental, a caprice of his own conscious life, which carries with it -no impersonal expansion or universal significance. We have here the -source of that tendency to cool which we cannot help feeling in the -representation of the passion of romantic love however that passion may -be emphasized. - - -3. FIDELITY - -The third type of soul-life which is of importance to the romantic -consciousness on the field of its activity in the world is _fidelity._ -By fidelity in the sense we are now using it we do not mean either -the permanent adherence to the avowal of love once given, nor yet the -stability of friendship in the beautiful image of the same such as we -have left us by the ancients in that of Achilles and Patroclus, or with -yet more intimacy, that of Orestes and Pylades. Youth is pre-eminently -both the soil and the occasion from which friendship of this -latter type originates. Every man has to construct his path of life -independently, to work out and sustain a given mode of realization. The -time of youth, when individuals still live in an undefined atmosphere -of external relations which they share, is the one in which they -associate closely, and are bound together so nearly in _one_ mode of -thought, volition, and activity, that everything that any one of them -undertakes becomes at the same time the undertaking of another. When -men attain maturity this is no longer the case. The circumstantial -life of the grown man pursues its independent course and will not -admit of so close an affiliation with that of another that we can -affirm of it that one cannot accomplish it without the other. Men make -acquaintances and then separate; their interests and business are at -one time disjoined, at another they coalesce; friendship, intimacy of -mutual opinions, of principles, and the general trend of their life may -remain; but this is not the friendship of youth, in which no individual -unit either makes a decision or carries it into effect without -inevitably making it a matter in which another is concerned. It is an -essential principle at the very root of our life that in general every -man must look after himself, must, in other words, prove by himself his -capacity to confront the reality which affects him. - -(_a_) Fidelity in friendship and love, then, subsists solely between -equals. The fidelity which we have now to consider is relative to a -superior, one more highly placed, a _master._ A fidelity of this type -is to be found even among the ancients in that of servants to the -family, the house of their lord. The most beautiful example of such a -relation is supplied us by the swine-herd of Odysseus, who sweats by -night and through tempest in order that he may look after his swine; -who is full of anxiety on his master's account, to whom he finally -gives loyal assistance against the suitors. Shakespeare offers us a -picture of fidelity no less moving, though it is here shown entirely -on the side of the feelings, in his "King Lear."[255] Lear asks Kent, -"Dost thou know me, fellow?" And Kent replies: "No, sir; but you have -that in your countenance which I would fain call master." This borders -as close as possible on that which we would make clear as romantic -fidelity. Fidelity at this stage is not the loyalty of slaves and -churls, however true and pathetic such unquestionably may be, which is -none the less devoid of the free independence of individuality and its -unrestricted aims and actions, and is consequently of subordinate rank. -What we, in short, have before us is the liege-service of chivalry, in -which each vassal preserves intact his own free self-dependence as an -essential element in the attitude of subordination to one of higher -rank, whether lord, king, or emperor. This type of fidelity, however, -is a principle of supreme importance in chivalry for the reason that it -forms the fundamental bond of union in a common society and its social -co-ordination at least in the original form of its appearance. - -(_b_) The object which thus receives a fuller content and is made -apparent in this new type of association between individuals is not, -however, by any means patriotism regarding that as an objective and -universal interest, but a bond merely with one person, the lord, and -for this reason conditioned by private honour, personal advantage -and opinion. In its fullest brilliancy we find fidelity of this kind -in a surrounding world that is unregulated and uncouth, beyond the -control of right and law. Within a lawless reality of this kind the -most powerful and commanding spirits stand out as fixed points of -attraction, as leaders and nobles, and the rest rally round them of -their own free will. Such a condition is later on elaborated into a -legalized co-ordination of fealty, in which every vassal has his own -claim to rights and privilege. The fundamental principle, however, upon -which the entire system reposes is in its primary origins free choice, -no less in relation to the dependent vassal than to the conditions -under which he remains faithful to his vassalage. For this reason the -fidelity of chivalry is quite prepared to maintain property, right, and -personal independence and honour, and is on this account not simply -recognized as an _obligation_ which may be enforced to the entire -disregard of the private inclinations of the vassal however they may -arise. Quite the contrary. Every subordinate unit only continues there -and helps to establish the general social order so long as the same -falls in with his own wishes, inclinations, and opinions. - -(_c_) On this account fidelity and obedience to the feudal lord can -very readily clash with private feelings, an exasperated sense of -honour, sensitiveness to insult, love, and many other chance incidents -of the personal or external life. It is consequently of a highly -precarious character. A knight, for example, is loyal to his lord, -but a friend of his happens to quarrel with him. He has now to choose -between the two objects of his fidelity, and, chief of all, he has to -consider himself, the claims of his personal honour and advantage. -The most beautiful example of such a conflict we have in the "Cid." -He remains as true to himself as he is to his king. If the king acts -wisely he assists him with his arm's strength; if his feudal lord acts -wrongly or the Cid feels touched on the point of honour this powerful -support is withdrawn. The paladins of Charles the Great exhibit -much the same attitude. It is a tie of chieftainship and obedience -not unlike that which we have already observed between Zeus and the -other gods. The superior lord commands, blusters, and scolds, but the -independent and powerful individualities resist him precisely when and -as they please. We find the most consistent and charming picture of the -conditional and easy terms under which this bond is maintained in the -"Reinecke Fuchs." Just as the magnates in this kingdom are most really -true to their own aims and independence, we find that the German barons -and knights in the Middle Ages were not at home when called upon to -act for the sake of the general weal and their emperor; and it really -looks as though our chief praise of the Middle Ages must consist in -this that no man is in such a period justified in his own eyes or a man -of honour, except in so far as he runs after his own inclinations, in -other words, does precisely that which he is not suffered to do in a -State which is organized on a rational basis. - -In all these three stages of honour, love, and fidelity, we shall find -the soil on which the self-subsistency of personality, the soul, is -supported, an independence which, however, constantly unfolds in a -wider and more affluent content, remaining in the same self-reconciled. -Here stretches before us in romantic art the fairest strip of country -which we can find anywhere outside the enclosure of religion in its -strict sense, Its objects are concerned with that which is simply -human, a relation with which we can at least from one aspect of it, -namely, that of personal freedom, absolutely sympathize, and we do -not find here, as we do now and again in the religious field, both -a material and modes of representation which clash with our modern -notions. But at the same time we must add that our present subject -matter may very frequently be brought into direct relation to religion -so that religious interests are interwoven with those of the world -of chivalry; as, for example, was the case in the adventures of the -knights of the round table in their quest of the Holy Grail. In this -interfusion we find not only much that is mystical and fantastical, -but also much that is allegorical added to the poetry of chivalry. And -conversely this secular sphere of the interests of love, honour, and -fidelity may also be totally unconnected with the deepening of their -content with religious aims and opinions, and only bring to view the -earliest movement of soul-life in the secular aspect of its spiritual -intensity. That which, however, drops away from the present levels is -the repletion of this inner life with the concrete content of human -conditions, characters, passions, and realized existence generally. In -contrast to this variety the essentially infinite soul still remains -abstract and formal, and has therefore in front of it the task, to -accept as part of its own this further material with what it held -before, and to exhibit the same in the forms congenial to artistic -composition. - -[Footnote 241: He has not in this exclusive sense of religiosity -identified himself with the spirit of the Christian community. _Der -Anderen_ refers to _Gemeinschaft._ Such appears to me the sense.] - -[Footnote 242: _Zur Wirklichkeit entfaltetes Leben._] - -[Footnote 243: Put more simply we may say in popular terminology that -it is filled up or amplified by virtue of the sense of individual -personality. This Hegel himself further elucidates below. Falstaff -undoubtedly possessed a strong personality, but in his famous soliloquy -on honour he deliberately emptied himself of any sense of it by -refusing to view himself under the self-relation, that is self-respect.] - -[Footnote 244: I fail to appreciate this distinction, except in a very -qualified form. Even in the Middle Ages when the feudal relation was in -full force, the relation between the master and the servant was surely -one of the institutions of the State, though no doubt the rights of the -dependent were not always very readily enforced. Even in the case of -slavery in the Southern States of America the relation between master -and slave carried with it quite definite ethical obligations--there was -in general at least quite a distinct social if not actually political -status.] - -[Footnote 245: I suppose Hegel means by _ein Punkt_ a centre or point -of life. The expression is rather unusual.] - -[Footnote 246: _Absoluten Geltung_, that is its absolute validity in -its ideal character.] - -[Footnote 247: The punctuation in text is defective.] - -[Footnote 248: So runs the text. It comes from such a writer with a -shock. Why such qualities should vanish (_schwinden_) in the presence -of unhappiness it is not easy to see. It would rather appear that such -was the condition to evoke them. What is meant is, I suppose, that the -failure of _reciprocity_, especially in the love of women, often brings -complete collapse. We may illustrate it in several of Meredith's novels -such as "Diana" and "Sandra Belloni."] - -[Footnote 249: The two sides would appear to be the secularity of the -social organism and "free" love.] - -[Footnote 250: This I think is the meaning. Until the full notion of -liberty is apprehended the divisions of class will have the appearance -of natural necessity.] - -[Footnote 251: Schiller's drama of that name.] - -[Footnote 252: _Die an und für sich seyende Allgemeinheit._ The -universal notion as explicitly made actual in life.] - -[Footnote 253: _Ein in sich konkretes Individuum._ The whole of this -analysis appears to me a rather abstract and professorial consideration -of romantic attachment, separating love from its reality of association -and relation in actual life. In so far as it is true it is purely -abstract truth, and must be regarded as such. In actual life it is no -more true that even in the average case misfortune blights the blossom -than it is true that the love of the individual concentrates itself -solely on the mere attachment between two persons. It is bound up with -the idea of family and continuation of the race, and so indirectly with -the State.] - -[Footnote 254: As sister of her violated brother Polyneices.] - -[Footnote 255: Act I, sc. 4.] - - - - -CHAPTER III - -THE FORMAL SELF-SUBSISTENCY OF INDIVIDUAL PARTICULARITIES - -If we take a glance back on the territory we have passed through, we -see in the first instance that the object of our investigation was -the life of the soul[256] in its most absolute capacity, in other -words, consciousness in its mediation with God, the universal process -of the self-reconciling spirit. The abstraction of this point of view -consisted in this that the soul by an effort of abnegation withdrew -itself from all that was secular, purely natural and human--even -when the same had ethical features, and for this reason possessed a -claim upon us--into its own distinctive domain in order to satisfy -its yearning for the pure heaven of spirit. _Secondly_, we found -ourselves able, it is true, to bring into view the human consciousness -without this factor of abstract negation which was included in that -mediation, in other words, positively in its independence and as -related to others[257], but the content of this secular infinitude as -such was none the less only the personal self-subsistency of honour, -the intensiveness[258] of love and the vassalage of fidelity, a -content which, no doubt, may appear before us in many relations, in a -many-folded variety and many gradations of feeling and passion, subject -to the most extensive changes of external condition, yet for all that -only propounds just this personal independence and inwardness within -such examples. The _third_ aspect, then, which we have now left us to -examine is the mode and manner in which that further material of human -existence, both on the side of its inward and its external life, that -is to say, Nature and its apprehension and significance for soul-life, -is able to enter into the romantic type of art. We have here to deal -with the world of particular objects, determinate existence generally, -regarded in its unfettered independence, and which, in so far as it -does not appear transparent to religion and spiritual synthesis, -bringing it into unity with the Absolute, asserts itself on its own -foothold and declares its self-subsistence in its own kingdom. - -In this third province of the romantic type of art consequently the -purely religious material and chivalry with those lofty views and aims -that we found it brings to birth from its spiritual womb[259], but -which were not directly concordant with anything visible in the reality -of the existing world, have vanished. The new object of satisfaction -is a thirst for this actual presence itself, a delight in the facts of -existence, a contentment of the soul with the dwelling that confronts -it, with the finitude of our humanity, and what is finite, particular, -and the true counterfeit of such generally. Man is intent to recreate -for his own world the world as he actually finds it, although such -may imply a sacrifice of the Beauty and ideality of the content and -manifestation will reflect it as it stands before him endowed with -life in his art, will have that present life before his eyes as the -work of his own mind. The religion of Christianity as we have already -seen has not sprung up from the soil of the imagination as was the -case with the divinities of the East and Greece, whether we consider -them relatively to form or content. It is the imagination which -fashions the vital significance out of its own resources in order to -promote the unity between the reality of soul life with the perfected -embodiment of the same. In classical art this complete coalescence is -actually attained. In the Christian religion, on the other hand, the -secular aspect in its exclusive character is from the first accepted -for just that which it really is as an essential factor of the Ideal; -and the soul of man finds satisfaction in the ordinary and contingent -presence of the external world without the necessary interposition of -beauty. But man is nevertheless in the first instance reconciled to -God only by implication, and as a possible result. All men are called -to the blessed condition, but few are chosen; and the soul for which -both the kingdom of heaven and that of this world still remain as a -"beyond" is constrained to renounce both that which is spiritual in the -external world and its own presence therein. The point of departure is -from a distance infinitely remote from that world; and to make this -reality, which in the first instance is simply surrendered, a positive -constituent of that which is man's own, in other words to bring about -this rediscovery of himself and his volition in his own present life, -from which all takes its rise, this it is which supplies us first with -a terminating point in the elaboration of romantic art, and is the -final outlook to which the spiritual penetration of man is carried and -on which it is concentrated. - -In so far as the form of this new content is concerned we have already -observed that romantic art from its first initiation was infected -with the contradiction that the essentially infinite mode of the -self-conscious life is, in its independence, incapable of being united -with the external material, and is bound to remain in such separation. -This independent opposition of both aspects and the withdrawal of the -inwardness of spirit into its own domain is that which constitutes the -content of romance. These two aspects are continually separated anew -by self-rehabilitation[260], until at length they fall entirely apart, -and thereby demonstrate that we must search for some _other field_ than -_Art_ to secure their absolute union. And by this falling apart we find -that these aspects in their relation to art are _formal_; in other -words they fail to appear as a totality in that complete type of unity -which was secured to them by the Classic Ideal. Classical art is placed -in a region of stable figures, that is in the midst of a mythology -and its irresoluble types perfected by art. The resolution of the -classical form is consequently brought about--as we found in discussing -its transition to the romantic form--leaving out of our present -consideration the generally more restricted territory of the comic and -satyric modes--by an over-elaboration in the direction of all that -pleases the senses or an imitation which loses itself in the deadly -frost of a pedantic learning, till it at length entirely degenerates -into a negligent and inferior technique. The objects of art remain, -however, the same throughout the process, and merely play truant to -the earlier intelligent mode of production with a presentation that is -increasingly more spiritless and a purely traditional and mechanical -technique. The progress and conclusion of romantic art on the contrary -is the resolution of the material of art within its own boundaries[261] -altogether, a material which falls apart into its elements, an -increase of freedom in the several parts, along with which process and -in contrast to the previous case, the individual craftsmanship and -artistic mode of presentment is enhanced; and in proportion as the -substantive content tends to break up to that extent attains a fuller -perfection. - -We may now attempt a more specific subdivision of this the final -chapter of this part of our subject in the following terms. - -In the first place we have before us _the self-subsistency of -character_, which is, however, a particular one, that is, a definite -individual self-absorbed in its world, its specific qualities and aims. - -In opposition to this formal particularity of character we have the -external conformation of situations, events, and actions. For the -reason, moreover, that the inward spirituality of romance stands -generally in an indifferent relation to that which is external the -actual phenomenon[262] appears in the present case independently free, -that is as neither permeated by the spiritual content of human aims and -actions nor clothed in modes adequate to retain them. By reason of its -unrelated and loose mode of manifestation it therefore enforces the -contingency of natural processes[263], circumstances, the sequence of -events, and manner of its realization as _the unexpected._[264] - -In the _third_ place, and finally, the severation of the two factors -asserts itself, the complete identity of which supplies us with -the real notion of art. This is consequently the dismemberment and -dissolution of art itself. On the one hand we find that art passes to -a representation of wholly commonplace reality, to the reflection of -objects precisely as they appear in their contingent isolation and its -equally singular characteristics. Its interest is now wholly absorbed -in reproducing this objective existence by means of the technical -ability of the artist. On the other hand we have, in what is a mode -of conception and representation entirely dependent on the accidental -idiosyncracy of the artist himself, that is in humour, a complete -reversal of the pictorial style above mentioned. For in _humour_ we -meet with the perversion and overthrow of all that is objectively solid -in reality; it works through the wit and play of wholly personal points -of view, and if carried to an extreme amounts to the triumph of the -creative power of the artist's soul over every content and every form. - - -1. THE SELF-SUBSISTENCY OR INDEPENDENCE OF INDIVIDUAL CHARACTER - -The fundamental determinant of our present subject-matter is once again -that infinitude implied in the very nature of the human consciousness -which was our point of departure in the romantic type of art. The new -accretions we have now, however, to add to our conception of this mode -of self-subsistent infinity consist partly in the _particularity_ -of content, which constitutes the world of the individual mind, as -to a further aspect of it in the immediate coalescence of the ego -with this its particularity, its wishes and objects, and thirdly, -in the living individuality, in which the substantive character is -self-determined. We are not, therefore, entitled to understand under -the expression "character" as now employed that which the Italians -represented in their masks. The Italian masks are also no doubt -definite characters, but this definition is only presented by them -in its abstraction and generality, without a personal individuality. -The characters, on the other hand, of the type under discussion are -each of them a character unique in itself, an independent whole, an -individual person[265]. If we have, therefore, occasion here to refer -to the formalism and abstraction of character, such an expression is -entirely relative to the fact that the fundamental content, the world -of such a character appears, on the one hand, as restricted and to that -extent abstract, and, on the other, as qualified by accidental causes. -What the individual is is not carried or sustained by virtue of what -is substantive or essentially self-accredited[266] in its content, -but through the naked personality asserted by the character, which -consequently reposes formally on its own individual self-subsistency -rather than on its content and its independently secured pathos. - -Within the limits of this formalism we may now observe _two_ main lines -of distinction. - -On the one hand we have the stability of character in the energy of its -_executive_ power, which restricts its line of action to specific aims, -and entrusts the concentrated force of individuality thus restricted to -the realization of such objects. On the other hand we have character -under the aspect of a totality that is _personal_, which, however, -persists not wholly articulated throughout the content of that inward -life and in the unsounded[267] depths of the soul, and is unable to -unravel itself wholly, or express itself with absolute clarity. - -(_a_) What we have therefore before us, in the first instance, is the -particular character which wills to be that its immediate presence -proposes, Just as animals differ from each other and discover -themselves as independent creatures in this difference, so, too, here -we have different characters whose range and idiosyncracy remains -subject to the element of contingency[268], and is not to be accurately -determined by the mere notion. - -(_α_) An individuality of this kind built up entirely on itself -consequently has no ready thought-out opinions and objects, which -it has associated with any universal principle of pathos: all that -it-possesses, does, and accomplishes it creates right away with no -further reflection out of its own specific nature; which is just -what it happens to be, and has no wish to be rooted in anything more -exalted, to be resolved in that and to find its justification in -something substantive. Rather it reposes unyielding and unmalleable -on itself, and in this stability either goes on its way or goes to -ground. A self-subsistency of character of this kind is only able to -appear, where the secular or natural man[269], in other words, humanity -in its particularity has secured its fullest claim. Pre-eminently the -characters of Shakespeare are of this type. It is just this iron[270] -steadfastness and exclusiveness which constitutes the aspect of them -which most excites our wonder. We have no word here of religion for -religion's sake, or action as the embodiment of human reconciliation, -in the unqualified religious sense, or of morality pure and simple. -On the contrary we are presented with individuals, conceived as -dependent solely on themselves, possessed with aims that are their -own exclusively, exclusively deducible from their individuality, and -which they carry through as best satisfies them with the unmitigated -consequences of passion, and with no incidental reflection on the -principles involved. In particular the tragedies, such as "Macbeth," -"Othello," "Richard III" and others contain one character of this type -for their main interest surrounded by others less pre-eminent for such -elemental energy. Macbeth is forced by his character, for example, into -the fetters of his ambitious passion. At first he hesitates, then he -stretches his hand to seize the crown; he commits a murder in order -to secure it, and in order to maintain it storms on through the tale -of horror. This regardless tenacity, this identity of the man with -himself, and the object which his own personality brings to birth is -the source to him of an abiding interest. Nothing makes him budge, -neither the respect for the sacredness of kingship, nor the madness of -his wife, nor the rout of his vassals, nor destruction as it rushes -upon him, neither divine nor human claims--he withdraws from them -all into himself and persists. Lady Macbeth is a character of the -same mould, and it is merely the chatter of our latter-day tasteless -criticism which can find in her the least flavour of affection. At -her very first entrance, on reading Macbeth's letter reporting his -meeting with the witches and their prophecy in the words[271]: "Hail to -thee, thane of Cawdor! Hail to thee king that shall be!" she exclaims, -"Glamis thou art and Cawdor; and shall be what thou art promised. Yet -do I fear thy nature; it is too full o' the milk of human kindness, to -catch the nearest way." She shows no affectionate trait, no joy over -the happiness of her husband, no moral emotion, no sympathy, no pity -of a noble soul; she simply fears lest the character of her husband -will stand in the path of his ambition. She regards him simply as a -means. With her there is no recoil, no uncertainty, no consideration, -no retreating, as we find is at first the case with Macbeth, no -repentance, but the pure abstraction and rigour of character, which -perpetrates that which falls in with it, until it finally breaks. -This collapse which comes in a tempest on Macbeth from the outside as -he executes his object, becomes madness of the mind in Lady Macbeth. -Of the same type is Richard III, Othello, the old Margaret and many -another also. We have its opposite in the wretched coherence[272] of -modern characters, such as those of Kotzebue, which are outwardly noble -in the highest degree, great and excellent, yet in their soul-force -are all rags and tatters. Later writers have done no better in other -relations, despite their supreme contempt for Kotzebue. Heinrich von -Kleish is an example with his Kätchen and Prince von Homburg[273], -characters in which, in contrast to the alert condition of real causal -effect, magnetism, somnambulism, and sleep-walking are depicted as -that which is of highest and most effective moment. This Prince von -Homburg is a most pitiable exhibition of a general; he is distracted -when he makes his military dispositions, writes out his orders in a -way none can decipher them, is engaged in the night previous to the -battle with morbid forebodings, and acts on the day of battle like a -fool. And despite such duality, raggedness, and lack of harmony in -their characters these writers imagine that they tread in the footsteps -of Shakespeare. Wide indeed is the distance which separates them, for -the characters of Shakespeare are essentially consequent in what they -do; they remain staunch to their master passion; in what they are and -in what confronts them, nothing makes them veer round but what is in -strict accord with their rigidly determinate character. - -(_β_) The more particular, then, the character is, which relies purely -on itself, and consequently readily approaches evil, to that extent -it is forced in the concrete world of reality to maintain itself, not -merely against the obstacles which lie in its path and prevent the -realization of life's aims, but so much more by this very realization -such is driven headlong to its downfall. In other words, on account -of the fact that it achieves its object, the fate that has its origin -in the specific nature of its character itself, deals it a blow in a -mode of destruction it has itself prepared. The development of this -fatality is, however, not merely a development from the _action_ of the -particular personality, but quite as much a growth of the soul[274], -a development of the _character_ itself in its headlong movement, -its running wild, its shattering in pieces or exhaustion. Among the -Greeks, for whom pathos, the substantive content of action, rather -than the personal character, is the important feature, a destiny -affects the character that is thus sharply defined to a less degree for -this reason, that it is not further evolved within the sphere of its -activities, but remains at their conclusion what it was at the start. -In the compass of our present subject-matter, however, by the carrying -through of the action itself, the inner life of the personality is -evolved quite as much as the progress of the action; the advance is -not simply on the outside. The action of Macbeth appears at the same -time a descent of the soul into savagery, accompanied by a result -which, when all irresolution is thrown to the winds, and the dice is -cast, leaves nothing further able to restrain it. His wife is from the -very first decided: development is shown here merely as the anxiety -of the soul, which is carried to the point of physical and spiritual -ruin, the madness, in short, which strikes her down. And this is the -kind of process which we can follow in the majority of Shakespeare's -characters, whether important or unimportant. The characters of ancient -drama assert themselves, no doubt, also on fixed lines, and we find -them even face to face with opposed forces, relief from which is no -longer possible except through the advent of a _deus ex machina._ Yet -this stability, as in the case of Philoctetes, is united to a content, -and, on the whole, penetrated with a pathos which may be vindicated on -ethical grounds. - -(_γ_) In the sphere of presentation we are now considering, owing to -the contingent nature of all that the characters which belong to it -seize upon as their aim and the independence of their individuality, -no _objective reconciliation_ is possible. The environment of all that -they are, and what opposes their progress, is in part without defined -lines, but also in part we see that there is neither a "Whence" nor a -"Whither" unriddled for themselves. Here we have once more presented -to us that Fate which is the most abstract form of Necessity. The only -reconciliation of the individual issues from the infinite mode of his -soul-life, his own steadfastness, in which he stands supreme over his -passion and his destiny. "Thus it came to pass,"[275] whatever falls -in his way, whether it be due to a controlling destiny, necessity or -accident, there is his "Wherefore"; he accepts it at once without -further reflection. It is fact, and man adjusts himself thereto, and -tries to make himself as stone toward its authority. - -(_b_) In absolute contrast to the above, however, there is a further -or _second_ mode in which the formal aspect of character may find its -seat within the _innermost_ of soul-life, and in which the individual -may remain fixed without being able to extend its range or execute its -effects. - -(_α_) Such are those spiritual natures of intrinsic substance, who, -while self-absorbed in a complex whole, are only able in the simplicity -of their compactness[276] to perfect that profound activity within the -shrine of the soul without further development or explication in the -world around them. The formalism which we have hitherto been examining -was relative to the defined character of the content, the entire -self-concentration[277] of the individual upon one object, which it -makes to appear in all its unrelieved severity, a concentration which -expressed itself, was carried out, and in which, just as circumstances -fell out, either collapsed or held on to the end. This further mode -of formalism is emphasized in a converse way by its undisclosed and -formless character, and by its defect of expression and expository -power. A soul of this type is like some precious jewel, which is only -visible at certain points, a manifestation which is that of a lightning -flash. - -(_β_) And the reason that such state of self-seclusion should still be -of worth and interest to us is due to the fact that it presupposes a -secret wealth of the soul, which, however, only permits its infinite -depth and fulness, and precisely, by means of this silence, to show -itself in a few and so to speak half-muted ways of expression. Such -simple natures, unconscious of what they possess, and without speech, -may exercise an extraordinary fascination. But that this may be so -their silence must be like the unruffled stillness of the sea upon -its surface, over its unsounded depths, not the silence of all that -is shallow, hollow, and stupid. It is quite possible sometimes for -the dullest fellow to succeed by means of an external demeanour that -manages very little to expose itself, and merely presents now and -again something that is but half intelligible, to awake in others -the opinion that it is the veil of a profound wisdom and spiritual -depth, so that people wonder what in the world lies hidden in such a -heart and soul, where we find in the end there is just nothing. The -infinite content and profundity of _silent_ souls of the genuine type -is made clear to us--and to declare it makes the greatest demand on -the intuitive powers and executive ability of the artist--by means of -isolated, unrelated, naïve, and involuntary expressions of soul-life, -which quite unintentionally make it plain to all who can grasp their -significance that such a soul has seized upon the substantial import -of all that confronts it with the richest quality of spiritual -insight, that its reflective capacity, however, is not carried further -by positive expansion into the general environment of particular -interests, motives, and finite aims, but rather preserves its original -purity that the fact it refuses to have its powers dissipated by the -commonplace excitements of the heart and the serious quests and modes -of sympathy which are thus inevitable, may remain unknown to the world. - -(_γ_) A time must, however, arrive for a soul of this type in which -it becomes uniquely affected at one definite point of attachment in -that inward worlds it concentrates the whole of its undivided powers -in one supreme form of emotion that dominates its life-current; it -adheres to this with a force that refuses to be diverted, and secures -happiness therein, or goes to ground from lack of support. To retain -a hold on life a man requires a constantly expanding breadth of -ethical sustenance, which alone supplies an objective stability. To -this type of character belong some of the most fascinating figures in -romantic art, whose full perfection of beauty we shall find among the -creations of Shakespeare. As an illustration we may take the Juliet -in his "Romeo and Juliet." It is possible at this moment to see a -reproduction of this play in this city[278]. It is well worth going -to. The picture we have given us there of this character is a moving, -lifelike, passionate, talented, highly finished and noble one. But for -all that it is possible to entertain a somewhat different conception -of the part. In other words, we may figure for ourselves a maiden in -the first instance simple as a child, of only fourteen or fifteen years -of age, who, it is quite clear, has as yet no self-knowledge or world -wisdom, no emotional activity, no strong inclination or wishes of the -heart, but has rather glanced into the motley show of the world as into -some _laterna magica_ without learning anything from it, or reflecting -upon what is seen there. All in a twinkling we behold the development -of the entire strength of this soul, of its artfulness[279], its -circumspection, its force; it is prepared to sacrifice everything and -to submit itself to the severest ordeals, so that in its entirety it -now suddenly appears to be the first breaking forth of the full rose -in all its petals and folds, an infinite outburst of the innermost -purity which gushes from the spring source of the soul, in which it -had held itself back previously as yet undiscerned, unmoulded and -undeveloped; which moreover, as the now existing creation of _one_ -awakened interest, betrays itself unpremeditated in the fulness and -strength of its beauty from the previous seclusion of spirit. It is -a brand which one spark has kindled, a bud which at the first bare -touch of love breaks unawares before us in full bloom. And yet the -faster it unfolds the more rapidly it also sinks, and its petals -fall from it. An impetuous progress is still more conspicuous in the -case of Miranda. Brought up in seclusion we have her portrayed for -us by Shakespeare at the critical moment when she first makes the -acquaintance of manhood[280]. He depicts her in a few scenes, but in -those we get a picture that is complete and unforgettable. We may -also include Schiller's Thecla under the same type, despite the fact -that it is rather the creation of a reflective kind of poetry[281]. -Though placed in the midst of a life of such amplitude and richness she -remains unaffected by it; she remains within it without vanity, without -reflection, purely absorbed by the one interest which alone dominates -her soul. And as a general rule it is chiefly the beautiful and noble -natures of women, in which the world and their own heart-life blossoms -for the first time in love, so that it is as though their spiritual -birth here takes its rise. - -Under the same type of spiritual intensity, which is unable fully to -unfold itself, we may for the most part classify those folksongs, more -particularly our German ones, which, in the copious compactness of the -soul-life therein reflected, and however much such is displayed to -us as carried away by any one absorbing interest, are yet unable to -express the same except in broken flashes, and thereby fully reveal -just this very depth. It is a mode of artistic presentment, which in -its reserve is apt to fall back on the effects of symbolism. What it -offers us is not so much the open, transparent display of the entire -inward life as it is purely a _sign_ and indication of that life. -But we do not get, however, from it a symbol, the significance of -which, as was the case previously, remains a general abstraction, but -an expression the inward content of which is nothing more nor less -than this personal, living, and actual soul. In times like our own, -dominated by a critical reflectiveness, which lies so far removed from -a self-absorbed _naïveté_ of this kind, such presentations are of the -greatest difficulty, and if successful, are a sure proof of an original -creative genius. We have already seen that Goethe, more particularly in -his lyrics, has shown himself a master in this respect, namely, that he -can depict and unfold to us in a symbolical way, in other words with a -few simple, apparently external and insignificant traits, the entire -truth and infinite wealth of a soul. His poem, "The King of Thule," one -of his most lovely bits of poetical work, is of this class. The king -here makes us aware of his love by just one thing only, namely, the -drinking cup which the old man preserved as a gift of his beloved. The -old carouser stands up there on the point of death in his lofty palace -hall; his knights, his kingdom, his possessions are around him; and -he bequeaths them all to his heir, but the goblet he flings into the -waves; no one shall have that. - -/$ - Er sah ihn stürzen, trinken, - Und sinken tief in's Meer, - Die Augen thäten ihm sinken, - Trank nie ein Tropfen mehr[282]. -$/ - -A soul, however profound and still of this kind, which retains its -energy of spirit pent up like the spark in the flint, unopened to -form, which does not elaborate its existence and reflection beyond its -own boundaries, has also failed to free itself by such expansion. It -remains exposed to the remorseless contradiction that, if the false -note of unhappiness ring through its life, it possesses no remedial -aptitude, no bridge as a way of passage between the heart and reality; -it is equally unable to ward off external conditions from itself, and -by so doing to preserve an independent ground of vantage in its own -self-reliance. When the collision comes therefore it is helpless; it -acts hastily and without circumspection, or bows passively to the -movement of events. So, for example, we have in Hamlet a beautiful -and noble soul; one not so much spiritually weak, but one that -wanders astray without a strong grasp of life's realities, moving in -an atmosphere of dejection, a sombre and half articulate melancholy. -Gifted with a finely intuitive sense he feels that all is not well with -him, that things are not as they should be though he has no external -sign, no single ground for suspicion; nevertheless he surmises the -atrocious deed that has been perpetrated. The ghost of his father -gives yet closer embodiment to his feelings. He is at once ready in -spirit to revenge, his sense of duty is always before him reflecting -the innermost craving of his heart, but he is not carried away with -the flood, as Macbeth; he cannot either kill, rage, or strike with the -directness of a Laertes; he persists in the inactivity of a beautiful, -introspective soul, which can neither realize its aims nor make itself -at home in the conditions of actual life. He dallies, seeks for more -positive certainty buoyed up by the fair integrity of his soul; he -can, however, come to no firm decision, much as he has sought it, -and permits himself to follow the course of external events. In this -atmosphere of unreality he goes yet further astray in matters that lie -directly in his path; he kills the old Polonius instead of the king; -he acts in a hurry where he should have been more circumspect, yet -persists in his self absorption, where decided action is essential; -until at length, without any action on his part, the fated _dénouement_ -of the entire drama, including that of his own persistently -self-retiring personality, has unravelled itself on the broad highway -of Life's external incidents and accidents. - -We are particularly presented with this attitude in modern times -among men of the lower levels of life, who are without an education -which extends to aims of universal significance, or are devoid of the -variety of objective interests. Consequently when some _particular_ -aim of their life fails they are unable to secure any further stay of -their spiritual forces and a centre of control for their activities. -This lack of education tends to make reserved natures, in proportion -as it is undeveloped, adhere with the more rigidness and obstinacy to -that which, through its appeal to their entire individuality, makes -a claim upon them however limited in its range it may be. We find -pre-eminently such a monotonous attitude incidental to this class -of self-absorbed and speechless men among German characters, who -for this reason appear in their seclusion inclined to stubbornness, -ready to bristle up, crabbed, inaccessible, and in their dealings and -expressions wholly unreliable and contradictory. As a master in the -delineation and exposition of such obtuse characters of the poorer -classes we will mention but one example, Hippel, the author of "Life's -Careers in the Line of Ascent,"[283] one of our few German works -stamped with original humour. He keeps himself wholly removed from -Jean Paul's sentimentality and want of taste in plot construction, -and possesses moreover an astonishing individuality, freshness, and -vitality. He understands, in quite an exceptional way, and one that -seizes on our interest at once, how to depict the thickset type of -people who are unable to breathe freely and who consequently, when -they do give themselves the rein, do so with a violence that is -simply fearful. They put an end of their own accord to the infinite -contradiction of their spiritual life and the unhappy circumstances -in which they are involved in an appalling manner; and bring about by -such means that which is otherwise the result of an external fate, as -we find, for instance, in "Romeo and Juliet," where external accidents -mar all the wise and able offices of the holy father's intervention and -cause the death of the lovers. - -(_c_) We find, then, that characters of this formal quality generally -either expose merely the infinite volitional force of the individual's -personality, which asserts itself frankly just as it is and storms -ahead in the bare impulse of the will; or, to take the further -aspect, present to us an essential self-contained[284], if not wholly -articulate soul, which, affected as it becomes by one specific aspect -of its spiritual experience, concentrates the entire breadth and -depth of its personality on this point, yet, owing to the fact of its -possessing no development externally, is unable to find its proper -place or to act with practical sense when it comes into collision -with that world. We have yet a _third_ point[285] to mention, which -consists in this, that when characters of this type, wholly one-sided -and restricted as they are in respect to their aims if at the same time -fully developed in mental power, awake in us not merely a _formal_, -but also a _substantial_ interest, we cannot fail to receive the -impression that this limitation of their personal life is itself only -a condition that is inevitable; in other words it is a result which -grows out of the particular way in which their character is defined -along with the profounder content of their personal life. Shakespeare -in fact enables us to see this depth and wealth in such characters. -He presents them to us as men of imaginative power and genius by -showing how their reflective faculty commands them and lifts them -above that which their condition and definite purpose would make them, -so that they are all the while as it were forced by the misfortune -of circumstances and the obstacles of their position into doing that -which they accomplish. At the same time we do not mean this to the -extent of asserting, for example, that the bad witches were to blame -for all that Macbeth dared after consulting them. These witches are -rather to be looked at as the reflex of his own obstinate will. All -that the characters of Shakespeare execute, that is the particular -purpose they propose, originates and finds the taproot of its force in -their own personality. But along with this they maintain in one and -the same individuality a loftiness, which brushes aside that which -they actually are, so far as their aims, interests, and actions are -concerned, and which amplifies them and exalts them above themselves. -In like manner Shakespeare's more vulgar characters, such as Stephano, -Trinculo, Pistol, and that hero among them all, Falstaff, though -saturated with their own debasement, assert themselves as fellows of -intelligence, whose genial quality is able to take in everything, -to possess a large and open atmosphere of its own, and in short -makes them all that great men are. In the tragedies of the French on -the contrary even the greatest and most worthy characters only too -frequently, if viewed critically, assert themselves as so many evil -offshoots of the brute creation, whose only intelligence consists in -this that it can furnish dialectical arguments in its vindication. -In Shakespeare we find neither vindication nor damnation, but merely -a review of the general condition of destiny, which inevitably places -such characters uncomplaining and unrepentant where they are, and from -the starting-point of which they see everything, themselves included; -and yet as independent spectators of themselves decline and fall. - -In all these respects the realm which is peopled by such individual -characters is an infinitely rich one, a kingdom, however, which very -easily collapses in hollowness and dulness, so that only quite a few -masters have received the gifts of poetical and intuitional power -sufficient to enable them to reveal its truth. - - -2. THE SPIRIT OF ADVENTURE - -Now that we have examined the aspect of the inward soul-life, which -may, at this stage of our inquiry, be presented by art, we must direct -our attention to that which lies without it, to the particularity -of circumstances and situations which affect character, also to the -collisions in which its development proceeds, and finally review the -entire collective form, which this inward life assumes within the -boundaries of concrete reality. - -It is, as we have more than once pointed out, a fundamental determinant -of romantic art, that the spiritual sense, in other words, the soul -in its aspect of self-reflection, should constitute a whole, and -relates itself for this reason to the external world, not, in its own -reality, inter-penetrated by this world, but as though related to -something purely external and separated from it, which goes on its way -independently disjoined from Spirit, is thus evolved, and thus disposes -of itself as a finite and continuously fluid, changing, and complicate -object of contingent causality[286]. To the self-absorbed soul it is -as wholly a matter of indifference what particular circumstances it -confronts, as it is an affair of chance what those circumstances are -which appear before it. For in its action it is less a matter of -importance that it should carry out a work whose essential basis is -rooted in itself and owes its subsistency to its own character than -that it should generally make itself effective in action. - -(_a_) We have, in short, before us here a process which we may from -one point of view describe as the rejection of the Divine from -Nature. Spirit has here withdrawn itself from the externality of -phenomena, which, for the reason that the inward life no longer sees -itself reflected in this sphere[287], is now independently clothed -on its part under a relation of indifference exterior to the subject -of consciousness. Relatively to its truth Spirit is, no doubt, in -its own medium mediated and reconciled with the Absolute: but in so -far as we now take up our position on the ground of self-subsistent -individuality, which proceeds from itself as it discovers itself in -its immediacy, this divesting of the Divine[288] affects character in -its active capacity. It moves forward, that is to say, with its own -contingent aims into a world equally subject to chance, with which -it fails to unite itself in an essentially harmonious whole. This -relative character of purpose in an environment which is relative, -whose determination and development does not subsist in the individual -mind, but is defined externally and contingently and is responsible for -collisions equally adventitious, which appear as offshoots that are -unexpectedly interwoven with it, creates that to which we give the name -of "the adventurous," which supplies the _fundamental type_ of romance -for the mode of its events and actions. - -It is necessary that the action and dramatic event in so far as they -apply strictly to the Ideal and classic art, should be referable -to an essentially true or, in other words, independently explicit -and necessary end, in whose conformation that which is also the -determinating factor for the external form, for the particular type and -mode of execution, is an object of real existence. In the case of the -acts and events of romantic art this is not the case. For, although -essentially universal and substantive ends are also presented in their -manner of realization by this type, the definition of the action which -is referable to such ends, and the principle of co-ordination and -articulation which appears in its progress on its spiritual side[289] -is not the direct result of those ends themselves; this aspect of -realization is inevitably left independent and subject to the operation -of contingency. - -(_α_) The romantic world had one and only _one absolute_ work to -accomplish, namely, the extension of Christendom, and the bringing into -manifest performance the spirit of the community[290]. Situated in the -midst of a hostile world consisting in part of the unbelieving ancient -_régime_, and in part of a human life which was barbarous and coarse, -the character of its actual accomplishment, in so far as it passed -from mere theory to deeds, was, in the main, the passive endurance of -pain and torture, the sacrifice of its own temporal existence for the -eternal salvation of the soul. A further product of its energies, which -is equally a portion of the same essential content, is, in the Middle -Ages, that carried out by Christian Chivalry, the driving forth of the -Moors, Arabs, and Mohammedans generally from Christian countries, and, -above all, along with it, the conquest of the Holy Sepulchre in the -Crusades. This, however, was not an object which affected man simply as -human[291], but one which a mere collection of isolated individuals had -to accomplish under conditions in which the individuals which composed -it streamed together at their own free will and pleasure as such. From -such a point of view we may call the Crusades the collective adventure -of the Christian Middle Ages; an adventure, which was essentially -subject to lapses[292], and fantastical, of a spiritual tendency, and -yet devoid of a truly spiritual aim, and in its relation to action and -character delusive. For in its relation to the processes of religion, -the supreme object of the Crusades is in the highest degree empty and -external. Christianity purported to secure its salvation solely in -Spirit, in Christ, who is raised to the right hand of God; it finds -its living reality and stay in Spirit, not in the grave of Spirit, or -in the sensuous, immediately present localities of its former temporal -abiding-place. The impulse and religious yearning of the Middle -Ages, however, was centred on the spot, the external locality of the -Passion and the Holy Sepulchre. In just the same direct contradiction -with the religious object we find that wholly worldly one which was -bound up with conquest; a possession, which in its relation to the -secular world, carried a totally different character to that of a truly -religious purpose. Men would fain win for themselves what was spiritual -and health to their souls, and they set before them as an aim a purely -material locality, from which Spirit had vanished; they strained after -a gain that was temporal, and united this which was of the world to the -pure substance of religion. It is this distraction which gives us the -discordant and fantastic note in such enterprises in which we find that -which is of the world confound the life of soul, or the latter prove -the confounding of the former instead of a harmony which is the result -of both. And for the same reason much that is contradictory appears in -the execution unresolved. Piety is carried to the point of rawness and -barbarous cruelty. And this rawness permits every kind of selfishness -and passion to break forth, or casts itself conversely once more upon -the eternal depths which either move or bruise the human spirit, and -which are, in truth, the heart and substance of the matter. In the -medley of elements so discrepant, there is also an absence of all unity -in the object proposed by the exploits and events themselves, or in -the consequential power of authority. The host of men is diverted and -split up in single adventures, victories, defeats, and a variety of -accidents; and the outcome of it all fails to correspond to the means -and enormous preparations which were involved. Nay, the object itself -is stultified in the execution. For the Crusades would once again bring -truth to the sentence: "Thou couldst not leave him in peace in the -grave, thou didst not suffer thy holy one to see corruption." But it -is precisely this longing to find Christ and spiritual content in such -places and spaces, even the grave itself, the place of death, which -is itself, whatever essential worth even a Chateaubriand may make out -of it, a corruption of Spirit, out of which Christianity must rise in -resurrection in order to return once more to the fresh and abundant -life of the concrete world. - -An object of much the same kind, mystical from one point of view, -equally fantastical from another, and adventurous in its undertaking, -is the search of the Holy Grail. - -(_β_) A more exalted emprise is that which every man has to go through -in his own domain, his life, in the course of which he determines -his eternal destiny. It is this object which Dante has, consistently -with the catholic standpoint, seized upon in his "Divine Comedy" as -he conducts us in turn through hell, purgatory, and paradise. In this -poem, too, despite the strenuous co-ordination of the whole, we have -abundant evidence of conceptions which are fantastic[293], aspects that -are suffused with the spirit of adventure, in so far, at any rate, as -this work in its blessing and cursing is not carried through merely in -the explicit form of universal statement, but as referable to an almost -innumerable company of distinct personalities, not to mention the fact -that the _poet_ takes upon himself the _fiat_ of his church, seizes -the keys of heaven in his hand, adjudicates both bliss and damnation, -and so constitutes himself the judge of the v world, who places the -best known individuals both of the ancient and Christian eras, whether -poets, citizens, cardinals, or popes, respectively in hell, purgatory, -or paradise. - -(_γ_) The remaining material, on the basis of the _worldly_ life, which -leads up to action and event, consists in the infinitely manifold -and venturesome experiments of imaginative idea, all that element of -chance in what arises either without or within the soul from love, -honour, and fidelity. At one time we may see men thus affected box -the compass for their own reputation's sake, at another leap to help -persecuted innocence, carry out amazing exploits in defence of the -honour of their lady, or vindicate some right that is invaded with the -strength of their own arm, and the able use of their own weapons; and -this albeit the innocence which is delivered prove only a company of -knaves. In the majority of such cases there is absolutely no condition, -no situation, no conflict before us in virtue of which we can assert -that action follows as a _necessary_ result. The soul simply wills it -and _intentionally_ looks out for adventure. The exploits of love, -for instance, in such cases have for the most part, if we look at -their more specific content, no other real principle of determination -beyond the effort to give proof of the steadfastness, fidelity, and -constancy of love, to testify that all the surrounding world, together -with the entire complexus of its relations, is merely of value as so -much material in which love may be brought to light. For this reason -the specific act of such manifestation, since the only thing that -matters is the proof, is not determined by its own course, but is left -dependent on a freak of chance, the mood of the lady, the caprice of -external accidents. The same principle holds where the objects are -honour or bravery. They are proper to an individual who holds himself -far aloof from all further content of a more substantive character, who -is perfectly able to enter into any and every content as it may chance -to occur, to find himself the object of insult therein, or to look for -an opportunity in which he may display his courage and shrewdness. -As we have here absolutely no criterion as to what should or what -should not form part of this content, in the same way also we have no -principle in accordance with which we can fix what in each case is -really an attack upon honour or the true subject-matter of bravery. It -is just the same with the treatment of _right_, which is likewise an -object of chivalry. In other words, right and law are here not as yet -asserted as a condition and object which is of essentially independent -stability, or as a system which is continuously made more perfect in -accordance with law and its necessary content, but as themselves purely -the product of individual caprice, so that their interposition, no -less than the judgment passed upon that which in every particular case -is held to be right or wrong, is throughout relegated to the entirely -haphazard criteria of individual judgment. - -(_b_) What we have before us generally, more particularly on the -secular field, in chivalry and the formalism of character above -indicated, is not merely, to a more or less degree, the contingency of -the circumstantial conditions of human action, but also that of the -soul in its attitude of volition. For individuals of this one-sided -characterization are capable of accepting as the substance of their -life that which is wholly contingent, conduct that is only sustained -by virtue of the energy of their character, and is carried out, or -fails in its contact with the inevitable collisions which the condition -of the world opposes to it. The same thing is true of the chivalry -which receives in honour, love, and fidelity a more lofty ground of -justification, and one entitled to rank with a truly ethical basis. On -the one hand, it is still emphatically a matter of chance on account of -the particular aspect of the circumstances on which it reacts; we find -that here the object is to carry out aims peculiar to some particular -person, instead of some work of general significance, and the modes -of its attachment with the rest of life fail to possess independent -stability. On the other hand, precisely at the point where we consider -such action as part of the personal life of individuals, we are aware -of the presence of caprice and illusion in respect to all that it -either projects, originates, or undertakes. The net result of such a -spirit of enterprise consequently, through all that it performs or -enters upon, no less than in its ultimate effects, is no other than a -world of events and fatalities which is self-dissolvent, a world of -comedy for this very reason. - -This self-dissolution of Chivalry we find set before us and -artistically reproduced, pre-eminently and with unsurpassed adequacy, -by Ariosto and Cervantes, and, so far as it affects the fate of -such highly individual characters as those above described in their -isolation, by Shakespeare. - -(_α_) In Ariosto, more particularly, an attempt is made to delight the -reader with the infinitely varied developments of personal destiny and -aims, the fabulous complexity of fantastic relations and ludicrous -situations over which the adventurous fancy of the poet plays to -the point of absolute frivolity. The heroes of these dramas are -seriously engaged in what is often unadulterated folly and the wildest -eccentricity. And, to note especial points, love is frequently degraded -from the Divine love of a Dante, or the romantic tenderness of a -Petrarca, to sensual tales and ludicrous collisions; or heroism appears -to be screwed up to a pitch that is so incredible it ceases to amaze, -and merely excites a smile over the fabulousness of such exploits. By -virtue, however, of this indifference in respect to the particular -manner in which dramatic situations are brought about, astonishing -complications and conflicts are introduced, broken off and once more -interwoven, chopped about, and finally resolved in a surprising way; -yet, despite his ludicrous treatment of chivalry, Ariosto is as able -to secure and display to us the true nobility and greatness which we -may find in chivalry, or the exhibition of courage, love, honour, and -bravery, as he can on occasion excellently depict other passions, -cunning, subtlety, presence of mind, and much else. - -(_β_) Just as Ariosto inclines more to the _fabulous_ element in this -spirit of adventure, Cervantes develops that aspect of it which is -appropriate to _romantic_ fiction. We find in his Don Quixote a noble -nature in whose adventures chivalry goes mad, the substance of such -adventures being placed as the centre of a stable and well-defined -state of things whose external character is copied with exactness -from nature. This produces the humorous contradiction of a rationally -constituted world on the one hand, and an isolated soul on the other, -which seeks to create the same order and stability entirely through -his own exertions and the knight-errantry which could only destroy -it. Despite, however, this ludicrous confusion we have still in Don -Quixote that which we have already eulogized in Shakespeare. Cervantes -has created in his hero an original figure of noble nature endowed -with varied spiritual qualities, and one which at the same time -throughout retains our full interest. In all the madness of his mind -and his enterprise he is a completely consistent[294] soul, or rather -his madness lies in this, that he is and remains securely rooted in -himself and his enterprise. Without this unreflecting equanimity -respectively to the content and result of his actions he would fail -to be a truly romantic figure; and this self-assuredness, if we look -at the substantive character of his opinions, is throughout great and -indicative of his genius, adorned as it is with the finest traits of -character. And, further, the entire work is a satire upon the chivalry -of romance, ironical from beginning to end in the truest sense. In -Ariosto this genius of adventure is merely the butt of frivolous jest. -From another point of view, however, the exploits of Don Quixote are -merely the central thread around which a succession of genuinely -romantic tales are intertwined in the most charming way, in order -to unfold the true worth of that which the romance in other respects -scatters to the winds with the genius of comedy. - -(_γ_) In somewhat the same way as we thus have seen chivalry, even -in respect to its most momentous interests, overturned in comedy, -Shakespeare, too, either places the characters and scenes of comedy in -juxtaposition to his downright and stable individualities, and tragic -situations and conflicts, or exalts the essential figures of his drama -through a profound humour above themselves and their uncouth, limited, -and false purposes. Falstaff, the fool in "Lear," the musician scene in -"Romeo and Juliet," will sufficiently illustrate the first alternative, -and Richard III the second. - -(_c_) The dissolution of romance, in the sense we have hitherto -regarded it, introduces us finally and in the third place to the -spirit of the _novel_[295], in our modern sense of the term, which -historically the knight-errantry and pastoral romances precede. This -spirit of modern fiction is, in fact, that of chivalry, once more -taken seriously and receiving a true content. The contingent character -of external existence has changed to a stable, secure order of civic -society and state-life, so that now police administration, tribunals -of justice, the army and political government generally take the place -of those chimerical objects which the knight of chivalry proposed to -himself. For this reason the knightly character of the heroes who -play their parts in our modern novels is altered. Confronted by the -existing order and the ordinary prose of life they appear before us as -individuals with personal aims of love, honour, ambition, and ideals of -world reform, ideals in the path of which that order presents obstacles -on every side. The result is that personal desires and demands unroll -themselves[296] before this opposition to unfathomable heights. Every -man finds himself face to face with an enchanted world that is by no -means all that he asks for, which he must contend with for the reason -that it contends with himself, and in its tenacious stability refuses -to give way before his passions, but interposes as an obstacle the -will of some one else whoever it may be, his father's, his aunt's, or -social conditions generally. For the most part such a knighthood will -consist of young people, who feel it incumbent upon them to hew their -way through a world which makes for its own realization rather than -that of their ideals, and who hold it a misfortune that there should -be family ties, civic society, state laws, professions, and all the -rest of such things at all, because conditions of such solidity and so -inevitably restricted are so cruelly opposed to their ideal dreams and -the infinite claims of their souls. The main object now is to drive a -breach through this wall of facts, to change, to improve, or at least -carve for themselves in despite of it some little heaven on earth such -as they seek for, their ideal maiden, discover her, win her from the -clutches of her wicked relations or her evil circumstances, carry her -off and lay the balm of love on her wounds. Conflicts of this kind, -however, in our modern world are the apprentice years, the education of -individuality in the actual world; they have no further significance, -but the significance has, nevertheless, a real value. The object -and consummation of such apprenticeship consists in this, that the -individual drops his horns and finds his own place, together with his -wishes and opinions in social conditions as they are and the rational -order which belongs to them, that he enters, in short, upon the varied -field of life, and secures that position within it which is appropriate -to his powers. However soundly he may have rated the world and have -been shoved on one side, the day comes at last with the most of us -when the maiden is discovered and some kind of place in the world, he -marries, and is as much a Philistine as the rest of his neighbours. His -wife takes charge of his domestic arrangements; children do not fail to -put in an appearance; the adorable wife who was so unique, an angel, -acts very much as other wives do; the profession supplies its toils -and vexations, the married tie its domestic sorrows, and, in short, we -have the entire process of marital caterwauling once more illustrated. -In this history we may see the same old type of the adventurous spirit -with this distinction, that here that spirit discovers its real -significance, and all that is wholly fantastic in it receives its -necessary correction. - - -3. THE DISSOLUTION OF THE ROMANTIC TYPE OF ART - -The last point which we have to establish still more closely is -that relatively to which the romantic spirit, for the reason that -it already is _intrinsically_ the principle of the dissolution of -the classic Ideal, manifests, in fact, this _dissolution_ clearly as -such a process. In this connection it is of the first importance to -consider the ultimately complete contingent and external character -of the material, which the activity of the artist seizes on and -informs. In the plastic material of the plastic arts the spiritual -conception is so related to the external medium that this external -show is the embodiment which uniquely belongs to that spiritual -significance itself, and possesses no real independence apart from -it. In romantic art, on the contrary, in which we find the inwardness -of Spirit withdraws within its own domain, the entire content of the -_external_ world secures the freedom of unfettered independence and the -assured subsistency of its own peculiar character and particularity. -Conversely, as we have seen, if the personal life of soul forms the -essential feature in the artistic product, it is a question of similar -indifference with what specific content of external reality and the -spiritual world the soul is vitally connected. The romantic Idea can -therefore assert itself through _every_ sort of condition; can embrace -every conceivable position, circumstance, relation, aberration, -confusion, conflict, and means of satisfaction; it is simply its own -personal and self-subsistent mode of conformation, the expression and -receptive form of the soul rather than any objective independently -valid form which is the object of search and is made good. In the -representation of romantic art therefore everything has its due place, -all the departments and phenomena of life, the greatest and the least, -the highest and most insignificant, what is moral with that which -is immoral and evil. And we may further note in particular that the -more secular the art becomes, the more it amasses the finite wealth -of the world, the more it takes to it with, delight, bestows upon -it a validity that is without reserve and exists for the artist in -such a world under the sole condition that it is reproduced in its -naked reality, so much the more is art at home with itself. Thus we -may observe in Shakespeare, on account of the fact that with him the -action as a rule runs its course in the most realistic association -with objective life, and is isolated and broken up in a mass of purely -accidental relations, and conditions of every kind, the least important -and most incidental no less than the most sovereign flights and most -weighty interests of poetry are each and all substantiated. So in -"Hamlet" we have the sentry on watch no less than the royal court; -in "Romeo and Juliet" the domestic _ménage_; in other pieces, not to -mention clowns, swashbucklers, and all the vulgarities of ordinary -life, we have pot-houses, carriers, chamber-pots and fleas, much as -in the representations by romantic art of the birth of Christ and the -adoration of the kings we do not fail to find oxen and asses, mangers -and straw[297]. And this is the kind of thing throughout, that the -scriptural text may receive its fulfilment, too, in art, "they that are -of low estate shall be exalted." It is from out this contingent sphere -of its subject-matter, which in a measure asserts itself as merely the -environment of a content intrinsically more important and in part also -in absolute independence, that the _downfall_ of romantic art issues, -to which we have already above adverted. In other words we have, on the -one hand, objective reality placed before us in what is from the point -of view of the Ideal its _prosaic objectivity_, that is, the content of -everyday life, which is not grasped in the substantive form in which -it adumbrates what is both moral and divine, but rather in that which -is for ever changing and which as temporal passes away. And, in the -further aspect of it, it is also the _subjective condition_, which, -with its emotion and insight, with the principle and authority of its -wit or humour, is able to exalt itself in mastery over the entire world -of the real, a mastery which leaves nothing in the ordinary connections -and significance where the commonsense consciousness finds it, and -is not fully satisfied until it has proved that everything which is -a part of that world is, by virtue of the form and relative position -which it receives from the view of it, mood and supreme gifts of the -artist[298], itself intrinsically capable of being broken up, and, as -such, is for the artistic vision and feeling dissolved. We have now, in -this connection, first, to add a few words on the principle contained -in those very varied works of art whose level of representation -approximates closely to the ordinary appearance of objective or -external reality, what in common parlance is called the imitation of -Nature. - -_Secondly_, we shall have to discuss humour as a personal quality -in the artist. It plays a very considerable part in modern art, and -is that which in the case of many poets distinctively supplies the -fundamental character of their work. - -_Thirdly_, it remains for us to offer a few suggestions, in conclusion, -on the point of view from which it is still possible for the art of -to-day to find a field for its activities. - - -(_a_) _The Artistic Imitation of what is Immediately presented by -Nature_ - -The realm of subjects which may be included in this sphere v of -artistic activity may be extended indefinitely for the reason that Art -takes for its content here not that which is by its own inherent law -necessary[299], the range of which is essentially self-contained, but -the contingent phenomena of reality in their unlimited modifications -of form and relation, Nature and her kaleidoscopic play of separate -pictures, the everyday action and affairs of man in his dependence -on natural conditions and their means of his satisfaction, in his -accidental habits also, attitudes, activities of family life, his -business as a citizen, and, generally, the incalculable variety of -all that shifts and changes in the world around us. And for this -reason this art is not merely, in the broad sense that applies more -or less to the romantic spirit in all its manifestations, a type -of portraiture: rather it tends to lose itself completely in the -mode of its portrayal, whether it be in sculpture, painting, or in -the descriptions of poetry. The tendency is to return to the exact -imitation of Nature, in other words, to the intentional approach to -the contingent aspects of what is immediately before the vision and -independently thus presented, prosaic existence in all its ugliness no -less than its beauty. The question, therefore, at once suggests itself -whether productions of this character have any right to be called art -at all. No doubt, if we simply fix before our attention the notion of -artistic work which fully corresponds to the Ideal, work which from one -point of view it is of the first importance that their content shall -not be thus intrinsically accidental or evanescent, and from another -point of view that their mode of presentation must be adequate in all -respects to such a content, then such artistic productions as we are -now considering will unquestionably appear to fall short. On the other -hand, there is another fundamental aspect of art which assumes here -an exceptional importance. This is the conception and execution of a -work of art which are personal to the artist, the aspect, that is, of -an individual talent, which is able to remain true to the inherently -substantive life of Nature no less than the embodiments of spiritual -experience though carried to the very limits of contingent condition -with which they may be involved, and which is further competent through -the vividness of its truth to import a significance into that which -is by itself insignificant, no less than by the amazing ability of -the technical execution itself. We have consequently to consider here -the degree in which the soul, that is, the genius and vitality of the -artist, is able to enter into the very being of such objects--whether -we consider their dominant idea[300], or the purely external form -of their appearance--and thus makes them visible in his art to our -eyes. And if we look at it from this point of view it will be found -impossible to deny that such creations have a genuine claim to the name -of art-products. - -If we approach such more closely we shall find that among the -particular arts poetry and painting are the ones which are most -occupied with their subject-matter. For, on the one hand, we see here -that it is that which is itself essentially particular which supplies -their content, and on the other hand it is the accidental though in -this type of art the genuine peculiarities of the objective appearance -which is sought for as the mode of the reproduction. Neither the arts -of architecture, sculpture, or music are adapted to the fulfilment of -such a task. - -(_α_) In poetry it is ordinary domestic life--the main source, that is, -of the probity, commonsense spirit, and the morality of everyday[301] -life--which is presented by art in the usual developments of civic -life, in scenes and characters selected from the middle and lower -classes. Among the French Diderot stands out conspicuous for the way -in which he has thus insisted on natural effects and the imitation -of the bluntness of fact. Among Germans it was Goethe and Schiller -who, with more lofty aim, struck out a path somewhat similar in their -youth, but rather, within this naturalness of life itself and its -particular detail, sought after a profounder content and conflicts -of essential significance. And in contrast to them we have Kotzebue -and Iffland, both of whom, in their several ways, the first with a -superficial rapidity of conception and execution, the second with a -more conscientious accuracy of detail and a homely kind of morality, -gave us the counterfeit of the daily life of their time in the prosaic -picture of its more limited aspects, with but a limited sense, either -of them, for genuine poetry. And generally, we may say, that it is -German art more than any other, and particularly that of our own times, -which has fastened with delight on this kind of treatment till it has -reached a sort of. virtuosity in it. In fact for a long period back Art -was more or less something of a stranger and a guest in our country, -not the child of our own loins. - -Further, we may observe that in this attraction to the reality that -lies actually before us it is essential that the material assimilated -by such an art be cognate with such reality and at home in it[302]; -it must be the national life of the poet and his immediate public. -It is on this very point of the kind of appropriation suited to an -art such as our own, which carried the purpose both in its content -and its methods of representation of making us feel at home in it, -even to the extent of sacrificing both beauty and ideality, that the -impulse originated which led to such a type of artistic production. -Other nations have been inclined to reject such material with scorn, -or only in more recent times have taken a more vital interest in such -opportunities as the ordinary course of human life offers. - -(_β_) If we desire, however, to see what is most worthy of our -admiration in such productions, we must turn our attention to the later -genre-painting of the Dutch. We have already in the first part of this -work, when examining the intrinsic character of the Ideal, indicated, -so far as the general spirit of it is concerned, what we take to be -the substantial basis of such work[303]. That contentment in life -under its presentment of direct experience down to the most ordinary -and most insignificant detail is mainly due to the fact that this -people was obliged to work out for itself only after severe struggles -and hard labour that which Nature supplies with far less reserve to -other peoples. Further, circumscribed as it is by local conditions, -it has become great in this very concern for and appreciation of the -least things. From another point of view it is a people of fishermen, -sailors, citizens, and peasants, and for this reason is forced from -the start to rate highly all that may be useful and necessary both in -matters of greatest and least importance which it knows how to secure -with the most assiduous industry. As a further essential feature of its -development the religion of this Dutch folk was Protestantism, and it -is an exclusive characteristic of this form of religion that it seeks -to find a home in the prose of life and suffers the same to remain -just as it is by itself, and independently of religious associations, -and to retain its forms of growth in unrestricted freedom. It would -be quite impossible for any other nation, situated in other external -conditions, to create works of art of such pre-eminent quality from -the kind of material which we have placed before us in the Dutch -school of painting. And, moreover, despite the peculiar nature of this -artistic interest, the Dutch have not by any means discovered their -whole life-in what was necessitous or barren in the conditions of their -existence and what tended to oppress their vitality: on the contrary, -they have reformed their church itself, have overcome a religious -despotism precisely as they overcame the world-power and majesty of -Spain, and have finally through their exertions, their industry, their -bravery and thrift secured for themselves, in the consciousness of -their self-attained liberty, prosperity, comfort, rectitude, courage, -joviality, nay, even a superabundant sense of the joys of ordinary -existence. Herein lies the vindication of the typical subject-matter of -their art. The material of such an art will not, however, satisfy that -profounder significance which is due to a content that is essentially -true. If, however, neither our emotional nor our critical faculties -are wholly content with it the more we consider it closely the more -we shall feel reconciled to such defects. It is an essential part of -the art of painting and the man who paints that they should please and -carry us away with that sense of pleasure. And, to put it bluntly, if -we would really know what painting is, in looking at any particular -canvas we must be, at least, able to say of the master in question: -"Ah, this man can paint." The main point, therefore, does not turn on -the question how far the artist in his work is able to give us an exact -transcription of the object he presents before us. We have already the -completest vision of grapes, flowers, stags, sand-hills, sea, sun, -sky, the finery and decoration of ordinary life, horses, warriors, -peasants, smokers, teeth-extraction, and every kind of domestic scene. -We have only to go to Nature for such things and others like them. What -ought to captivate us is not the content in its bare reality. Rather -it is the appearance, which in comparison with the object is wholly -without interest[304]. This appearance is, moreover, by itself fixed -independently of the beautiful[305], and art consists in the mastery -of its reproduction of all the mysteries of the ever self-deepening -appearance of external phenomena[306]. And, above all, the function of -art consists in this that, armed with an exceptionally fine sense for -such things, it lies in ambush for the momentary and wholly transient -traits which it finds upon the surrounding world observed in its -individual aspects of life, aspects which, however, completely coincide -with the universal laws that dominate the appearance, and can retain -true and secure the most fading apparition. A tree, a landscape, is -something of independent and permanent stability. But to seize upon the -flash of a metal, the gleam of light through the grape, a vanishing -glance of the moon or the sun, a smile, the expressions of spiritual -life which are no sooner seen than they vanish, or ludicrous movements, -situations, and attitudes, to master such evanescent material as this -is the difficult task of this type of work. If classic art in its -Ideal has essentially confined its embodiment to that which is purely -substantive so here we have opened to our vision the changes of Nature -in their fleeting forms of expression, a stream of water, a waterfall, -waves of foam on the sea, still life with the accidental flashes of -glass, plate, and things of like nature, the outward appearance of man -in the most exceptional situations, a wife, for instance, threading her -needle by candle-light, a halt of robbers suddenly surprised, the most -instantaneous fraction of some human posture, the smile or sneer of a -peasant, all the things, in fact, in which men like Ostade, Teniers, -or Steen are masters. It is the triumph of art over the Past, in which -the substantive is likewise filched of its power over that which is -accidental and transitory. - -And just as the appearance simply as such reflects the real content -of objects, so we may say that Art, in giving a permanent form to -the evanescent show of things, goes a step further. In other words, -quite apart from the objective realization, the means adopted in the -reproduction are themselves independently an end, in the sense that -the individual ability of the artist, and his use of the means his -art supplies, may itself rank as one of the objects aimed at by the -art product. In quite the early days of the school the artists of the -Netherlands studied profoundly the qualities of colour in its relation -to material substances[307]. Van Eyck, Hemling, and Schoreel[308] were -all of them capable of imitating in the most realistic way the sheen -of gold and silver, the varied light effects of jewels, silk, velvet, -and fur-stuffs. A mastery of this kind which, by the magic of colour -and the mysteries of its enchantment, is able to bring about artistic -results so entirely surprising requires no further vindication; it -justifies itself. As Spirit in thought and in its grasp of the world -by means of ideas and thoughts reproduces itself, so what is most -important here is the individual recreation of the external world, -independently of the bare object itself, in the sensuous medium, of -colours under effects of light and shade. It is in fact a kind of -objective music, a system of colour tones. In music the single tone is -of no value and only produces the musical effect in its relation to -some other, in its opposition, concord, modulation, and unison. It is -precisely the same thing with the music of colour. If we consider the -appearance of painted colour closely such as the gleam of gold or the -flash from the steel of battle we shall only see a number of white or -yellow dashes, points, coloured surfaces. The single colour alone does -not possess this gleam which we gather from the picture. It is only -by its association with other tints that we get the effect of glitter -and flash. Take for example the Atlas of Terburg; every individual -strip of colour here alone is simply a dull gray, more or less whitish, -bluish, or inclining to yellow: only when we take in the entire effect -from a distance, which gives us the relative contrast of each part to -the rest, dawns upon us the beautiful soft sheen which is true of the -genuine Atlas. And it is just the same with our velvet effect, play -of light, exhalation of cloud and so on through all pictorial effect -whatsoever. It is not so much the reflex of the artist's mood[309], -which, as is no doubt frequently the case with landscape, transfers -itself to the objects delineated, as it is the entire ability of the -artist, which seeks to make itself felt in this objective way as the -use of the means at his disposal in such a vital interaction that they -themselves straightway of their own cunning bring to birth a world of -objects. - -(_γ_) And consequently the interest in the objects delineated tends to -revert to the fact that it is the unique powers of the artist himself -which are thus consciously displayed, and for which the embodiment of -a work of art, independently complete and self-composed, is not of so -much importance as a production in which the creative artist unveils -to us simply his genius. In so far as this _personal_ aspect is no -longer concerned with the external means of presentation but affects -the _content_ itself of the work, the art becomes thereby the art of -caprice and humour. - - -(_b_) _The Humour of Personality_[310] - -In humour it is the personality of the artist, which so reproduces -itself both in its particular idiosyncrasies and profounder content, -that the main thing of importance is the spiritual value of this -personality. - -(_α_) Inasmuch as humour does not so much propose to itself the task -of unfolding and informing an objective content according to its own -essential character, and, by artistic means, of articulating and -rounding it off in such a self-evolved process, as it consists in the -artist's own self-manifestation in the material, he will be mainly -concerned to let everything which tends to become an object and to -secure the rigid lines of reality, or which appears in the external -world, fall away and dissolve under the powerful solvent of his own -fancies, flashes of thought and arresting modes of conception. By this -means every appearance of self-subsistency in such a content, the -embodiment of which is secured in its coalescence through means of a -given fact, is entirely destroyed, and the product is now simply a play -with certain objects, a derangement or a turning upside down of a given -material, the enterprise of a rover throughout such, the interwoven -woof of the artist's own expression; views and moods, through which -he gives free scope to himself quite as much as to his immediate -subject-matter. - -(_β_) The illusion which readily springs from such a type of art -consists in this, that though it is a very easy matter to make either -oneself or the object given the butt of drollery and wit, and for this -reason the form of humorous composition is that frequently adopted, -yet quite as often as not we find that the humour is dull enough when -our artist gives free rein to any chance conceits or jest which may -occur, which in their loose and patchy connections range to excess -beyond all reasonable limits, and with intentional eccentricity bind -up frequently together the most alien matter. Some nations have -proved themselves indulgent to such artistic experiments, others are -more severe. Among the French such attempts at humorous composition -have not as a rule been successful; we Germans have done better, and -we are more tolerant to the defects of such a style. Jean Paul, for -instance, is a much admired humourist among us; and yet it would be -difficult to point to any writer who is more eccentric in the way he -brings to the common fund what is most remote from his subject, and -patches together an incredibly motley assemblage of subjects, whose -sole bond of relationship is one of the artist's own fancy. The story, -the matter and progress of events are the features of least interest -in his romances. The main attraction throughout is the sportive -procession of his humour which uses everything in its course as a means -to establish his own triumph as a humourist. In this subordination -to itself and concatenation of every conceivable stuff that can be -raked out of the four quarters of the world, or the realm of the real, -the material of humour approximates once more to that of symbolism, -wherein significance and conformity likewise are disjoined, with this -difference, however, that in the former it is purely the personality -of the poet which commands the material no less than the significance, -co-ordinating them according to his own caprice[311]. Such a series -of freaks and fancies soon tires us, more particularly when we are -expected to live as best we can in the not unfrequently barely -decipherable combinations which have passed somehow or another in the -clouds of the poet's brain. With Jean Paul, as with scarce another, one -metaphor, sally of wit, drollery, or simile proves the death of its -neighbour. Nothing grows; there is an explosion, that is all. A plot, -however, which purports to have a _dénouement_ must first be unfolded -and prepared for such solution. From another point of view, when the -artist in question is essentially devoid of the solid core and support -of a mind and heart overflowing with the real actualities of existence, -his humour very readily lapses into what is sentimental and morbid. -And in this respect Jean Paul is no less an example. - -(_γ_) In a humour of the best kind, which keeps itself aloof from -such excrescences, we must therefore have a genuinely spiritual -depth and wealth, able to exalt that which issues as the emanation -of a personality to the rank of real expression, and capable of -making that which is truly substantive arise from that which the -chance suggestions, the mere caprices of the artist, dictate. The -self-abandonment of the poet in the course of his exposition must -be, as it is with humourists such as Sterne or Hippel, a wholly -unembarrassed, easy-going, scarce perceptible kind of saunter[312], -which, insignificant though it appear, manages precisely by that means -to strike at the root of the main idea; and, for the reason that what -thus bubbles up in haphazard fashion are matters of detail, it is -essential that the conception, which binds the whole ideally together, -should have the deeper foundation, and that such detail should simply -flash forth the focal spark of genius. - -We have now arrived at the point where romantic art itself for the -present terminates. It is the standpoint of our most modern outlook, -whose distinctive characteristic we shall find to be mainly this, that -the individual personality[313] of the artist stands supreme above both -the material he informs and his creation. He is no longer dominated by -the conditions of an essentially restricted sphere, in which he must -accept as given both the content and form of his work; it now lies in -his power to choose either as he wills, and to retain both on similar -terms. - -(_c_) _The End of the Romantic Type of Art_ - -Art, in so far as it has hitherto been the subject of our inquiry, had -for its fundamental basis the unity of significance and form, and, as a -further type of it, the unity of the personality of the artist with the -work he embodies and creates[313]. More closely defined we may say that -it was the specific type of this union, which supplied the content and -its appropriate artistic presentment with the substantive and directive -principle running through all the images therein. - -We found at the commencement of our inquiry with reference to the -origins of art that in the Eastern world Spirit was not as yet -independently free. It still sought that which it conceived to be the -Absolute in the domain of Nature, and apprehended the natural as itself -essentially Divine. At a further stage the outlook of classical art -set before itself the vision of the Greek Pantheon as unconstrained -and inspired beings, but still in all essential features formed as our -humanity, as individuals charged with a positive physical process[314]. -Finally it was romantic art which first permitted Spirit to penetrate -the depths of its own world, in contrast to which flesh, the external -reality and frame of this world generally, albeit the fact that the -spiritual and absolute could alone manifest itself in this world, in -the first instance was divested of all claim to reality[315], but for -all that afterwards asserted such a positive claim with increasing -strength and urgency. - -(_α_) These distinctive views of the world process constitute religion, -the substantive Spirit or genius of peoples and eras; they not merely -influence art, but are threads of life which permeate every other -domain or province of the living present to which they belong. As -every man, in every sphere of activity, whether it be on the field of -politics, religion, art, or science, is a child of his own age, and -receives the task to elaborate the essential content and consequently -the inevitable plastic form of that age, so, too, the aim that -determines the content of art is no other than that of finding in its -own medium and resources some adequate expression for the spirit of a -nation. So long as the artist is in immediate identity and unshaken -faith inextricably one with the determinate content of such a view of -the world and the religion where it culminates, to that extent this -content and the mode of its presentation will call forth his most -_serious_ powers; in other words this content remains for him the -infinite substance and truth of his own consciousness, a content, -with which he lives, down to the inmost recesses of his spiritual -nature, in original unity; and, moreover, the embodied presence in -which he reveals the same is for him as such an artist[316] the final, -necessary, and highest type of such a form, namely that of bringing -before the aesthetic sense the absolute being[317] and the ideal -significance[318] of the subject-matter of his art. It is through -that aspect of his material which is no other than his own immanent -substance[319] that he finds that which binds him to the specific -mode of his exposition. For the material, and with it the form that -appertains to it, carries the artist directly into himself[320], as -being the real essence of his determinate being, which he does not -imagine but rather actually is, and consequently has only to make this -essential part of him an objective fact to himself, to conceive and -elaborate such in a vital form from his own resources. Only under such -conditions is the enthusiasm of the artist fully awakened for either -the content or manifestation of his art; only thus his creations become -no mere product of caprice, but spring up within him, out of him, -out of this living field of his substance, this spiritual capital, -whose content never ceases to be active, until, through the efforts -of the master, it has attained a defined form adequate to its own -ideal notion. When, however, we of to-day would seek to make a Greek -god or, as our own Protestants try to do, a Virgin Mary the object of -a piece of sculpture or a picture, it is impossible for us to treat -such a material with entire seriousness. It is the faith of our inmost -heart which fails us here, albeit even in ages of absolute belief the -artist was by no means necessarily what is commonly understood as a -pious mart, any more than at any time artists generally come in an -exceptional sense under that category. The demand is rather simply -this that in the view of the artist his content should be no other -than the substantive significance, the most spiritual truth of its -own conscious life, and that it should unfold the necessary laws of -its mode of presentation. For an artist is, in his creative activity, -a child of Nature; his ability is in one aspect a talent he receives -from _her._ His method of working is not the pure activity of rational -apprehension, which places itself in direct opposition to its material, -and unites with it in the medium of free thoughts and pure thinking. -Rather, as one not yet released from the natural aspect, it[321] -coalesces immediately with the object, in full faith, and is identical -with it heart and soul. The artistic personality reposes frankly in the -object, the work of art proceeds in like manner absolutely from the -unimpaired spiritual depth and power of genius; the product is _ferme_, -unwavering, and its entire intensive effect preserved. And this it is -which supplies the fundamental condition of the final demand that Art -be presented us in its flawless totality. - -(_β_) The situation, however, has entirely changed in view of the -position we have been forced to indicate as that occupied by Art in -this its final stage of evolution. We have, however, no reason to -regard this simply as a misfortune which the chance of events has -made inevitable, one, that is to say, by which art has been overtaken -through the pressure of the times, the prosaic outlook and the dearth -of genuine interests. Rather it is the realization and progress of art -itself, which, by envisaging for present life the material in which -it actually dwells, itself materially assists on this very path, in -each step of its advance, to make itself free of the content that -is presented. In the very fact that we have an object set before -our ocular or spiritual vision, whether it be by Art or the medium -of Thought, with a completeness which practically exhausts it, so -that we have emptied it, and nothing further remains for our eyes to -discover or our souls to explore, in that alone the vital interest -disappears. Our interest only continues where our faculties are kept -fresh and alive. Spirit only concerns itself actively with objects so -long as there is still a mystery unsolved, a something unrevealed. -And this is so so long as the material remains identical with our -own substance. A time comes, however, when Art has displayed, in all -their many aspects, these fundamental views of the world, which are -involved in its own notion, no less than every province of the content -that is bound up with such world-views: when that time arrives such -art is necessarily cast loose of that which has been its previous -specific content for any particular people or age; in such a case the -renewed craving for material to work upon only fully awakes when it -is accepted as inevitable that we must first bid farewell to all that -its activity has previously substantiated: just as in Greece, for -example, Aristophanes opposed a resolute face to his age, and Lucian to -the entire historical Past of his country; or in Italy and Spain, in -the decline of the Middle Ages, both Ariosto and Cervantes opened the -attack on Chivalry. - -In opposition to the age, then, in which the artist, by virtue of -the concrete content of his nationality and times, stands within -a definite outlook upon the world and its modes of embodiment, we -become aware of a point of view diametrically antagonistic, which, so -far as its complete enunciation is concerned, has only in the most -modern times received its due significance. It is only in our own days -that we find the artist no less than the man of science among pretty -nearly all civilized nations, has mastered the cultivation of his -reflective faculty, the art of criticism, and among us Germans the -absolute freedom of thought, and has made this critical apparatus, -both relatively to the material and the form of its production, having -already run through all the necessary phases or types of romantic art, -a kind of _tabula rasa._[322] The specific mode of association for any -particular context, and a manner of presentment exclusively pertinent -to that and no other material, are things which the artist of to-day -looks upon as obsolete. Art has become a free instrument which is -qualified to exercise itself relatively to every content, no matter -what kind it may be, agreeably to the principles or criteria of the -artist's own peculiar craftsmanship. The artist stands superior to all -specific modes and conformations, however much hallowed in the usage, -and moves forward free and independent, untrammelled by either form or -presentment such as previously have brought before man's vision and -mind the one holy and eternal substance. No content, no form is any -longer identical directly with the inmost soul of the artist[323], -his nature, his unaware[324] and substantive essence; every material -he may treat with indifference, if he only keep true to the formal -principle that he make his work consonant with beauty and a really -artistic execution. There is, in short, no material nowadays which we -can place on its own independent merits as superior to this law of -relativity; and even if there is one thus sublimely placed beyond it -there is at least no absolute necessity that it should be the object -of _artistic_ presentation. For these reasons the artist is situated -relatively to the content of his work much as the dramatist who places -before us and develops other and alien characters. It is quite true -that even our poet of to-day interposes the atmosphere of his genius -within his delineations, and the warp that he weaves is in fact that -of his own substance; but this only applies to what is universal there -or wholly accidental. The closer traits of individualization are not -his own, but rather he makes use of in this respect his stores of -images, modes of metaphor, earlier types of art, which by themselves he -does not care for, and whose significance is exclusively dependent on -the fact that they turn out to be the most suitable for this or that -matter in hand. In most of the arts, and particularly in the plastic -types, the subject-matter is, apart from this, supplied from outside -to the artist. He works to order, and when occupied with whatever -tales, scenes, and portraits thus come in his way, whether sacred or -profane, has merely to look to it that he can make something out of -them. For, however much he leaves the impress of his genius on a given -content, it remains throughout for all that a material which is not -itself directly the substance of his own conscious life. Nor is it of -any real assistance to him, that he further appropriates, so to speak, -with his soul and substance views of the world that belong to the Past, -in other words, tries to root himself in one of such, and, let us say, -turns Roman Catholic, as not a few have done in recent times for Art's -sake, in order to give their soul some secure foundation, and enable -the definite lines of their artistic product to become themselves -something which shall appear to have an independently valid growth. It -is not a prime condition of the artistic state that the artist should -come completely to terms with his own soul, or should be obliged to -look after his own salvation. What is important is that his soul in -its greatness and freedom should from the first, before it thinks of -creating, both know and possess that whereof it is, should stand fast -by it and reliant within it; and, above all, is it indispensable that -the spirit and mind of the great artist of to-day should have a liberal -education, one in which every kind of superstition and belief which -remains limited to circumscribed forms of outlook and presentment, -should receive their proper subordination as merely aspects or phasal -moments of a larger process; aspects which the free human spirit has -already mastered when it once for all sees that they can furnish -it with no conditions of exposition and creative effort which are, -independently for their own sake, sacrosanct; and only ascribes to them -value in virtue of the loftier content, which itself, as creator and -worker, he reposes in them, making them thus what they ought to be[325]. - -It is somewhat in this way nowadays that any and every form and -material may prove of service to and under the control of the artist -whose executive talents and genius have been liberated in their -independence from the former limitation to a specific mode of artistic -work. - -(_γ_) If we ask, then, in conclusion what are the content and the -modes which may be considered _peculiar_ to the present sphere of our -inquiry, the result will be approximately as follows. - -The universal types of art were pre-eminently related to the absolute -truth to which Art attains, and they discovered the source of their -differentiation in the specific grasp they respectively supplied of -that which passed for the Absolute in the human consciousness, and -which itself carried the principle of its manner of embodiment. In -this respect we have already seen in symbolism Nature's significances -pass before us as content, and her facts and human personification as -the mode of presentation; similarly in the classical type, we have -passed in review spiritual individuality, but as bodily presence which -carried no memory with it[326], and over which the abstract necessity -of Fate stood paramount. In the romantic the intellectual being of the -personal consciousness was asserted inherent in its own substance, and -for the inmost content of which the external form remained entirely -contingent. In this concluding type as in the earlier ones the object -of art was the Divine in its explicitly unfolded nature. This Divine -had however to make itself an object, to define itself, and in the -process to pass from its own immediate substance to the secular content -of the personal consciousness. In the first instance the infinite -essence of personality was reposed in honour, love, and fidelity; -after that in the particular individuality, the specific character -which happened to coalesce with the particular mode of human life in -question. This coalescence, together with the specific limitation of -content appropriate to such, was finally put an end to by humour, -which proved itself capable of dissolving or making pliable to its -purpose any or every line of stable definition, and by so doing made -it possible for art to transcend its own limitations. In this passing -away of Art beyond itself, however, Art is quite as truly the return -of man upon himself, a descent into his own soul-depths, by which -process art strips off from itself every secure barrier set up by a -determinate range of content and conception, and unfolds within our -common humanity[327] its new holy of holies, in other words the depths -and heights of the human soul simply, the universal shared of all men -in joy and suffering, in endeavour, action, and destiny. From this -point onwards it is from himself that the artist receives his content, -is in truth the Spirit of man assigning to himself his own boundaries, -contemplating, experiencing and giving utterance to the infinitude of -his emotions and situations, a spirit to which nothing is any more -alien which can possibly emanate as life from the human soul. A -content of this nature is one which cannot persist under the defined -modes of art independent and apart from the activity of the artist. -Rather the definition of content and its elaboration is transferred by -it to the caprice of his invention. But, despite of this, it excludes -no vital interest, because Art is no longer under constraint to -represent that, and only that, which is completely at home in one of -its specific grades. Everything is now possible as its subject-matter, -in which man, on whatever plane of life he may be, possesses either the -need or the capacity of making his abode. - -Confronted with a material of such a wide range and multiplicity, it is -above all of first importance that in respect to the mode of artistic -treatment the Spirit that is now active in our present life should -throughout declare itself as such. Our modern artist may no doubt join -the company of ancients and elders. It is a fine thing to be one of -the Homerides, though we stand last of the line; pictures, too, that -reflect for us once again the atmosphere of romantic art in the Middle -Ages will have a worth of their own. But this universal sufficiency, -depth, and unique suitability of a given material such as we above -described is another thing altogether, and equally so its mode of -presentation. Neither Homer, Sophocles, Dante, Ariosto, nor Shakespeare -can reappear in our times. What has been sung so greatly, what has been -expressed with such freedom, has been sung and expressed once for all. -Only the Present blows fresh; all else is faded and more faded. In the -matter of history we must fain make it something of a reproach to the -French, and we may add to it a criticism on the score of beauty, that -they have presented on their stage Greek and Roman heroes, Chinese, and -Peruvians as so many French princes and princesses, and moreover have -given them the motives and views peculiar to the age of Louis XIV or -Louis XV. Yet, after all, had these very motives and opinions only been -intrinsically deeper and more beautiful than they are we should have -had little fault to find in the fact that the Past is here translated -into Art's present life. On the contrary all material whatsoever, it -matters not from what age or nation it hails, only retains its truth -for art as part of this vital and actual Present, in which it floods -the human heart with the reflected image of its own life, and brings -truth home to man's senses and mind. It is just this revelation and -renewed activity of that humanity which is immortal in all its varied -significance and infinite reconstruction, which, in this its receptacle -of human situations and emotions, forms the possible no less than the -absolute content of the art of our time. - -If we now take a glance back, having established in a general way the -content which distinguishes the subject-matter of this portion of -our inquiry, at that which we finally considered to be the modes of -romantic art's dissolution, we may recall the fact that we then defined -them under a term applicable to all, as the falling to pieces of Art, -a process which, in one of its aspects, was due to an imitation of the -objects of Nature in all the detail of their contingent appearance, -and in another was referable to humour, that unfettered activity of -the individual soul in all its capricious mastery. In conclusion, -we may still draw attention to a further way of fixing on our minds -that _terminus_ of romantic art without prejudice to our previous -remarks upon it. In other words, just as in our advance from symbolism -to classical art, we considered the transitional forms of image, -simile, and epigram, we have also here in romantic art a form somewhat -similar worthy of attention. In those previous modes of conception the -important thing was the falling asunder of the spiritual significance -and the external form, a severation which in part was cancelled by -the activity of the artist's own mind, and in the exceptional case -of the epigram could possibly be converted into complete identity. -Romantic art was from the beginning the profounder disunion of that -inmost soul-life which finds its satisfaction in its own wealth, which, -moreover, for the reason that generally the objective world does not -completely satisfy the demand of Spirit essentially as such, persisted -in its discordance with or indifference to it. This opposition in the -evolution of romantic art finally led us perforce to the point where -we found that the interest was exclusively centered on the contingent -aspects of externality, or the equally capricious activity of the soul. -When, however, this exclusive attention to either side, whether it be -the externality or purely personal presentment, agreeably to the main -principle of romantic art, is carried so far that it becomes a real -penetration of the soul within the object, and the aspect of humour in -its relation to the object and its embodiment within the sphere of its -own individual reaction[328] assumes a real importance, in that case -we are face to face with what is a coalescence[329] with the object, -and is nothing less than an _objective_ humour. Such a coalescence, -however, can only be of limited range, and find expression merely, say, -within a lyric, or at most in but a portion of a larger composition. -For if its boundaries widened, and it was carried throughout the -object-matter in question, it would necessarily become identical -with the action and event, become, in short, a completely objective -representation. What we have to consider here is rather a sensitive -self-abandonment of the artist's soul in his object, which no doubt is -unfolded in some kind of process, but nevertheless remains a movement -of the imagination and heart indicative rather of _individual_ genius; -a caprice in some sort, and yet not entirely capricious or intentional, -but rather a sympathetic expansion of the artist's genius, which -devotes itself solely to its subject-matter, and makes it exclusively -its interest and content. - -We may usefully compare with such a spirit the last blooms of the -ancient Greek epigram, in which this type appears in its first and -simplest features. The mode we have here in our mind is in the first -instance apparent when the reference to the object is not a mere -statement of fact, is not merely an inscription or transcript which -states what the object is, but is associated with a deeper emotion, -a sleight of witticism, an ingenious fancy, or a real flash of -imaginative power, any or all of which through their poetical grasp -give life to and expand the minutest detail. Poems of this description, -it matters little what their subject-matter may be, whether a tree, a -mill-stream, spring, dead things or alive, are of infinite variety and -may be found in the literature of all nations. They are, however, a -subordinate grade of poetry, and very readily come off halting. For at -least in a country of cultivated speech and reflection there are few -objects and conditions, indeed, which will not offer some further link -of association to every man. And just as the average man thinks himself -qualified to write a letter he will rate his capacity to express such -ideas. One is very easily tired of a universal spirit of sing-song such -as this, even though a stray novelty of touch may be here and there -thrown in. The importance of such a class of composition, therefore, -depends almost entirely on the question how far the artist's soul, -with its full intensity of life, and with a spiritual and intellectual -wealth that is both profound and extensive, has without reserve entered -vitally into such conditions, situations, and so forth; has made a home -there, and from the object in question created something unseen before, -something beautiful, something essentially worth our attention. - -To this end the Persians and Arabians pre-eminently in the oriental -splendour of their images, in the unfettered enjoyment of their -imagination, which enters into the being of its subject-matter in the -purest spirit of contemplation, offer, even for present times and our -own intensity of spiritual penetration, a glorious exemplar. Both the -Spaniards and Italians, too, have done excellent things in the same -direction. It is true that Klopstock says of Petrarch: - -/$ - --Laura besang Petrarca in Liedern, - Zwar dem Bewunderer schön, aber dem Liebenden nicht[330]. -$/ - -but Klopstock's own love-odes are themselves full of moral reflections, -troubled yearning and passion that is for ever writhing after -immortality of happiness. What we admire most in Petrarch is the -free atmosphere of essentially noble emotion, which, however much it -expresses the longing for the beloved, can none the less repose on its -own heart. For this kind of longing, indeed sensual desire itself, is -far from being absent in the range of the art we now are considering, -when the subject is restricted to wine and love, the tavern and the -glass; the excessive voluptuousness of the images of Persian writers -themselves are in fact an illustration of this; but in this case the -imagination, in the interest it possesses for the intelligence, removes -the object entirely from the sphere of desire which has a practical -aim. It possesses an interest merely in the realm of its own exuberant -activity, finding its delight freely in its own countless freaks and -fancies, and making joys and griefs alike the subject of its sport -Among our modern poets the two who preeminently combine a similar -buoyancy of genius with a more intimate and spiritually searching depth -of imagination are Goethe in his "Westöstlicher Divan" and Rückert. -The essential contrast between Goethe's poetry in the "Divan" and his -more early efforts is quite remarkable. In his "Welcome and Farewell," -for instance, the language and description are no doubt fine in -their way, true feeling is there. In other respects the situation is -commonplace, the climax is poor, and of imagination in the full and -free sense there is no further trace. The poem in the "Divan" entitled -"Recovery"[331] is composed in a totally different spirit. Love is here -wholly absorbed in the imagination, and the movement, happiness, and -bliss of the latter are throughout predominant. And, to speak generally -of artistic productions of this class, we may affirm that we find -in them no personal craving, no indications of enamourment, no mere -desire, but a pure delight in the objects delineated, an inexhaustible -self-absorption of imagination, an innocent play, a free surrender to -the coquettish humours even of rhyme and ingenious versification; and -withal an intense jubilation of the soul in its own free movement, a -spirit, which, by means of this very exhilaration induced by artistic -form[332] lifts the soul high above all its painful perplexity into the -ordered limits of the real. - -And here we must close our consideration of the particular types -according to which the Ideal of art throughout its process is -self-differentiated. We have made these several modes the subject of -a more extensive inquiry, with a view to unfolding the content of the -same, a content from which the proper modes of artistic presentment -are themselves also deducible. For in Art, too, as in all other human -production, it is the content which is finally decisive. In fact Art, -if we consider the true notion of it, has one and only one supreme -function. It has to set forth in adequate form, within the grasp of our -actual senses, what is itself essential content; and the Philosophy of -Art should consequently regard it as its main business to comprehend -in Thought what this abundance of content and its beautiful mode of -manifestation verily is. - -[Footnote 256: _Subjektivität._] - -[Footnote 257: _Für andere_, that is for other spiritual beings than -the absolute Spirit as such.] - -[Footnote 258: _Die Innigkeit._] - -[Footnote 259: _Aus dem Innern exzeugten._] - -[Footnote 260: _Sich in sich hineinbildend._ That is by continually -supplying new modes to the subjective spiritual content--until we -arrive at the almost purely spiritual mode of music.] - -[Footnote 261: _Die innere Auflösung._] - -[Footnote 262: The phenomenal world of Nature.] - -[Footnote 263: _Die Verwickelungen._] - -[Footnote 264: _Die Abentheuerlichkeit._ Hegel means that it is like -the result of an adventure--unforeseen rather than "fantastic."] - -[Footnote 265: _Ein individuelles Subjekt._] - -[Footnote 266: That which supplies its own justification.] - -[Footnote 267: Lit., unenclosed, that is open indefinitely and so -undefined, unsounded.] - -[Footnote 268: That is, it is open to extraneous causes that cannot be -predicted from the mere essential notion of them.] - -[Footnote 269: I presume this is the meaning of the expression _das -Aussergöttliche_ and _das partikulär Menschliche._] - -[Footnote 270: _Pralle_--stiff, metallic in its steeply rigidity.] - -[Footnote 271: Act I, sc. 5.] - -[Footnote 272: _Miserabilität._ One of Hegel's own coinage.] - -[Footnote 273: An unknown work to me.] - -[Footnote 274: _Ein inneres Werden._] - -[Footnote 275: One is reminded of the Mohammedan fatalism. It is Allah.] - -[Footnote 276: _In einfacher Gedrungenheit._ Hegel means that it is -tightly self-sealed, that and nothing more.] - -[Footnote 277: _Hineingelegtseyn._ The reference of the whole being to -one object.] - -[Footnote 278: This was the representation which took place in Berlin -in 1820, with Mademoiselle Erelinger as Juliet.] - -[Footnote 279: _List_, usually in depreciatory sense, here otherwise.] - -[Footnote 280: With the exception, of course, of her presumed father -Prospero.] - -[Footnote 281: That is, a poetry based rather on the reflective faculty -than the creative imagination.] - -[Footnote 282: - -/$ - "He saw it plunge, drink boldly, - Then sink in sea-depths lost; - And what his eyes saw loosed him, - No drop the king drank more." -$/ -] - -[Footnote 283: _Lebensläufe in aufsteigender Linie._] - -[Footnote 284: _In sich totales, unbeschränktes Gemüth._ The -expressions would appear to contradict one another, but the emphasis is -on the unity of a whole which is itself not fully defined.] - -[Footnote 285: It is not so much a third type as a way of looking at -the previous ones.] - -[Footnote 286: It is contingent, of course, to the individual. Hegel -does not mean that it is without causality.] - -[Footnote 287: The sphere of objective fact.] - -[Footnote 288: From Nature, that is.] - -[Footnote 289: _Ihres inneren Verlaufs._ I suppose Hegel means -action under the aspect in which it forms a part of the individual -development--regarded in its relation to will and consciousness.] - -[Footnote 290: That is, the Christian community.] - -[Footnote 291: _Den Menschen als Menschheit_, that is in his generally -secular aspect.] - -[Footnote 292: I presume this is the sense of _gebrochen_ here. But -lower down it would mean apparently _discordant._] - -[Footnote 293: By "fantastic" Hegel seems to me to mean that which is -based on a fancy or imagination that is wholly personal to the artist, -and so adventitious in its results.] - -[Footnote 294: _Sicheres Gemüth_--"consistent" both in its literal and -metaphorical senses--one that holds together and is thus self-assured.] - -[Footnote 295: _Das Romanhafte._ I cannot think of an English -expression which exactly corresponds.] - -[Footnote 296: _Sich schrauben_, like the winding smoke from a -bottle--the corkscrew---ironical of course.] - -[Footnote 297: One of the finest illustrations of such a universality -of interest may be found in Ruskin's description of Tintoret's -"Adoration of the Magi."] - -[Footnote 298: _Genialität_ and _genial_ mean a good deal more than our -English words geniality and genial--they refer directly to genius.] - -[Footnote 299: _Das in sich Nothwendige._ The reference is mainly to -the stricter principles of classical art.] - -[Footnote 300: _Nach ihrer ganzen Inneren._] - -[Footnote 301: Lit., "Which possesses for its substantial content -(_Substanz_) the integrity (_Rechtschaffenheit_), world-wisdom [here I -think no more is meant than "good sense"] and the morale of daily life -(_des Tages_)."] - -[Footnote 302: Lit., "That the material, so far as art appropriates it, -be immanent and at home in that reality." _Immanent_ must I think refer -back to _die vorliegende Werklichkeit._] - -[Footnote 303: Vol. I, pp. 229, 230.] - -[Footnote 304: That is it has no interest _quâ_ a natural object.] - -[Footnote 305: _Scheinen_ must mean here natural rather than artistic -appearance. Natural appearance is not _necessarily_ beautiful.] - -[Footnote 306: _Des sick in sich vertiefenden Scheinens._ It is -self-deepening in proportion to the _feiner Sinn_ below mentioned.] - -[Footnote 307: I think this is the meaning of the expression _das -Physikalische der Farbe_--not so much the material constituents of -colour as the effect of colour on physical substances. But either -interpretation makes sense.] - -[Footnote 308: An artist unknown to me.] - -[Footnote 309: _Gemüth_. I think Hegel uses the word here in the -narrower sense rather than "soul" generally.] - -[Footnote 310: _Der subjektive Humor._] - -[Footnote 311: Lit., "And arranges them side by side in an alien -order." That is, under a principle of co-ordination which does not lie -in the subject-matter.] - -[Footnote 312: _Unscheinbares Fortschlendern._] - -[Footnote 313: _Die Subjektivität des Kunstlers._ The expression -as used here and below implies, of course, not so much the formal -personality or character as the individual spirit and its resources.] - -[Footnote 314: I presume this is the meaning of _von einem affirmativen -Momente._] - -[Footnote 315: Lit., "Was at first posited as naught."] - -[Footnote 316: That is, as an artist for whom it is _wahrhafter Ernst._] - -[Footnote 317: _Das Absolute_ here is, I think, referable to the -subject-matter of art rather than to be taken as "the Absolute" simply.] - -[Footnote 318: _Die Seele._ Perhaps "vital principle" would be better.] - -[Footnote 319: That is, Spirit or mind.] - -[Footnote 320: There is an uncorrected misprint here, _der_ should be -_den_ and _tragen_ would be an improvement on _trägt._] - -[Footnote 321: I am not certain whether the subject is here the artist -himself, or his mode of working. The context would suggest the latter, -the better sense the former.] - -[Footnote 322: Reflection has destroyed the _necessity_ of any -particular form.] - -[Footnote 323: That is the life of Spirit. _Das Heilige und Ewige._] - -[Footnote 324: _Bewusstlosen._ His spiritual nature in its unexplored -universality is, I presume, the sense.] - -[Footnote 325: _Als ihnen gemäss._ As adequate to their completely -explicit nature.] - -[Footnote 326: _Aber als leibliche unerinnerte Gegenwart._ I am not -sure that I know precisely the sense here, unless it amounts to -this that the Greek gods were without an historical memory. Their -immortality swallowed up in its repose the sense of beings in time, and -assumed to be in human bodily shape.] - -[Footnote 327: _Zu ihrem neuen Heiligen den Humanus macht_, an uncommon -phrase.] - -[Footnote 328: _Innerhalt seines subjektiven Reflexes._ That is, the -synthetic activity of humour's reflection.] - -[Footnote 329: _Verinnigung_, a stronger word than _Vereinigung._] - -[Footnote 330: "Petrarch sang songs of his Laura. To him who wonders at -beautiful songs they are beautiful, to the lover they are not so."] - -[Footnote 331: "_Wiederfinden_."] - -[Footnote 332: I am not quite sure that _die Heiterkeit des Gestaltens_ -does not mean "the buoyancy of the created form."] - - -END OF VOL. II - - - - - -End of the Project Gutenberg EBook of The Philosophy of Fine Art, volume 2 -(of 4), by G. W. F. 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W. F. Hegel. - </title> - <style type="text/css"> - -body { - margin-left: 10%; - margin-right: 10%; -} - - h1,h2,h3,h4,h5,h6 { - text-align: center; /* all headings centered */ - clear: both; -} - -p { - margin-top: .51em; - text-align: justify; - margin-bottom: .49em; -} - -.p2 {margin-top: 2em;} -.p4 {margin-top: 4em;} -.p6 {margin-top: 6em;} - -hr { - width: 33%; - margin-top: 2em; - margin-bottom: 2em; - margin-left: auto; - margin-right: auto; - clear: both; -} - -hr.tb {width: 45%;} -hr.chap {width: 65%} -hr.full {width: 95%;} - -hr.r5 {width: 5%; margin-top: 1em; margin-bottom: 1em;} -hr.r65 {width: 65%; margin-top: 3em; margin-bottom: 3em;} - - -.pagenum { /* uncomment the next line for invisible page numbers */ - /* visibility: hidden; */ - position: absolute; - left: 92%; - font-size: smaller; - text-align: right; - color: #A9A9A9; -} /* page numbers */ - -.linenum { - position: absolute; - text-align: right; - left: 92%; - font-size: 0.8em; -} /* content number */ - -.blockquot { - margin-left: 10%; - margin-right: 15%; -} - -a:link {color: #000099;} - -v:link {color: #000099;} - -.center {text-align: center;} - -.right {text-align: right;} - -.smcap {font-variant: small-caps;} - -.caption {font-weight: bold;} - -/* Images */ -.figcenter { - margin: auto; - text-align: center; -} - -.figleft { - float: left; - clear: left; - margin-left: 0; - margin-bottom: 1em; - margin-top: 1em; - margin-right: 1em; - padding: 0; - text-align: center; -} - -.figright { - float: right; - clear: right; - margin-left: 1em; - margin-bottom: - 1em; - margin-top: 1em; - margin-right: 0; - padding: 0; - text-align: center; -} - -/* Footnotes */ -.footnotes {border: dashed 1px;} - -.footnote {margin-left: 10%; margin-right: 10%; font-size: 0.9em;} - -.footnote .label {position: absolute; right: 84%; text-align: right;} - -.fnanchor { - vertical-align: super; - font-size: .8em; - text-decoration: - none; -} - -/* Transcriber's notes */ -.transnote {background-color: #E6E6FA; - color: black; - font-size:smaller; - padding:0.5em; - margin-bottom:5em; - font-family:sans-serif, serif; } - </style> - </head> -<body> - - -<pre> - -The Project Gutenberg EBook of The Philosophy of Fine Art, volume 2 (of 4), by -G. W. F. Hegel - -This eBook is for the use of anyone anywhere in the United States and most -other parts of the world at no cost and with almost no restrictions -whatsoever. You may copy it, give it away or re-use it under the terms of -the Project Gutenberg License included with this eBook or online at -www.gutenberg.org. If you are not located in the United States, you'll have -to check the laws of the country where you are located before using this ebook. - -Title: The Philosophy of Fine Art, volume 2 (of 4) - Hegel's Aesthetik - -Author: G. W. F. Hegel - -Translator: Francis Plumptre Beresford Osmaston - -Release Date: August 27, 2017 [EBook #55445] - -Language: English - -Character set encoding: UTF-8 - -*** START OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK PHILOSOPHY OF FINE ART, VOL 2 *** - - - - -Produced by Laura Natal Rodriguez and Marc D'Hooghe at -Free Literature (online soon in an extended version,also -linking to free sources for education worldwide ... MOOC's, -educational materials,...) Images generously made available -by the Internet Archive.) - - - - - - -</pre> - -<div class="figcenter" style="width: 500px;"> -<img src="images/cover.jpg" width="500" alt="" /> -</div> -<h1>THE PHILOSOPHY OF</h1> - -<h1>FINE ART</h1> - -<h3>BY</h3> - -<h2>G. W. F. HEGEL</h2> - -<h4>TRANSLATED, WITH NOTES, BY</h4> - -<h3>F. P. B. OSMASTON, B.A.</h3> - -<h5>AUTHOR OF "THE ART AND GENIUS OF TINTORET," "AN ESSAY<br /> -ON THE FUTURE OF POETRY," AND OTHER WORKS</h5> - -<h4>VOL II</h4> - -<h5>LONDON</h5> - -<h5>G. BELL AND SONS, LTD.</h5> - -<h5>1920</h5> - -<hr class="full" /> - - -<div class="figcenter" style="width: 450px;"> -<img src="images/hegel.jpg" width="450" alt="" /> -</div> -<blockquote> -<h4>CONTENTS OF VOL. II</h4> - -<p style="font-size: 0.8em; font-weight: bold; text-align: center;">SECOND PART</p> - -<p style="font-size: 0.8em; font-weight: bold; text-align: center;">INTRODUCTION</p> - -<p>[Evolution of the Ideal in the Particular Types of Fine Art, -namely, the Symbolic, the Classical, and the Romantic. -Symbolic Art seeks after that unity of ideal significance -and external form, which Classical art in its representation -of substantive individuality succeeds in securing to -sensuous perception, and which Romantic art passes -beyond, owing to its excessive insistence on the claims -of Spirit]</p> - - -<h5 class="p2">SUBSECTION I</h5> - -<h5>THE SYMBOLIC TYPE OF ART</h5> - -<h5>INTRODUCTION</h5> - -<p style="font-size: 0.8em; font-weight: bold; text-align: center;">OF THE SYMBOL GENERALLY</p> - -<p>[1. Symbol as a sign simply in language, colours, etc. <span class="linenum"><a href="#Page_8">8</a></span></p> - -<p>2. Not a mere sign to represent something else, but a -significant fact which presents the idea or quality it -symbolizes <span class="linenum"><a href="#Page_9">9</a></span></p> - -<p>3. Thing symbolized must have other qualities than that -accepted as symbol. Term symbol necessarily open -to ambiguity <span class="linenum"><a href="#Page_10">10</a></span></p> - -<p>(<i>a</i>) Ambiguity in particular case whether the concrete -fact <i>is</i> set before us as a symbol. Difference between -a symbol and a simile. Illustrations <span class="linenum"><a href="#Page_10">10</a></span></p> - -<p>(<i>b</i>) Ambiguity extends to-entire worlds of Art, <i>e.g</i>, -Oriental art. Two theories with regard to mythos -discussed and contrasted <span class="linenum"><a href="#Page_14">14</a></span></p> - -<p>(<i>c</i>) The problems of mythology in the present treatise -limited to the question, "How far symbolism is -entitled to rank as a form of Art?" Will only -consider symbol in so far as it belongs to Art in its -own right and itself proceeds from the notion of -the Ideal, the unfolding of which it commences] <span class="linenum"><a href="#Page_19">19</a></span></p> - -<p style="font-size: 0.8em; font-weight: bold; text-align: center;">DIVISION OF SUBJECT</p> - -<p>[1. The artistic consciousness originates in wonder. The -effects that result from such a state. Art the first interpreter -of the religious consciousness. Conceptions -envisaged in plastic forms of natural objects <span class="linenum"><a href="#Page_23">23</a></span></p> - -<p>2. The final aim of symbolic art is classical art. Here it -is dissolved. The Sublime lies between the two extremes <span class="linenum"><a href="#Page_26">26</a></span></p> - -<p>3. The stages of symbolical art classified according to -their subdivisions in the chapters of this. Second Part -of the entire treatise] <span class="linenum"><a href="#Page_29">29</a></span></p> - -<h5>CHAPTER I</h5> - -<h5>UNCONSCIOUS SYMBOLISM</h5> - -<p>A. Unity of Significance and Form in its immediacy <span class="linenum"><a href="#Page_36">36</a></span></p> - -<p>1. The religion of Zoroaster <span class="linenum"><a href="#Page_37">37</a></span></p> - -<p>2. No true symbolical significance in the above <span class="linenum"><a href="#Page_42">42</a></span></p> - -<p>3. Equally destitute of an artistic character <span class="linenum"><a href="#Page_44">44</a></span></p> - -<p>B. Fantastic Symbolism <span class="linenum"><a href="#Page_47">47</a></span></p> - -<p>1. The Hindoo conception of Brahmâ <span class="linenum"><a href="#Page_50">50</a></span></p> - -<p>2. Sensuousness, measurelessness, and personifying -activity of Hindoo imagination <span class="linenum"><a href="#Page_51">51</a></span></p> - -<p>3. Conception of purification and penance <span class="linenum"><a href="#Page_64">64</a></span></p> - -<p>C. Genuine Symbolism <span class="linenum"><a href="#Page_65">65</a></span></p> - -<p>1. Nature no longer accepted in its immediate sensuous -existence as adequate to the significance. Art -and general outlook of ancient Egypt <span class="linenum"><a href="#Page_75">75</a></span></p> - -<p>[(<i>a</i>) The inward import held independent of immediate -existence in the embalmed corpse <span class="linenum"><a href="#Page_76">76</a></span></p> - -<p>(<i>b</i>) Doctrine of immortality of the soul as held by -Egyptians <span class="linenum"><a href="#Page_76">76</a></span></p> - -<p>(<i>c</i>) Superterranean and subterranean modes of -Egyptian art. The Pyramids] <span class="linenum"><a href="#Page_77">77</a></span></p> - -<p>2. Worship of animals, as the vision of a secreted soul. -Symbolical and non-symbolical aspects of this cult <span class="linenum"><a href="#Page_78">78</a></span></p> - -<p>3. Works of Egyptian art are objective riddles. The -Sphinx symbolic of the genius of Egypt. Memnons, -Isis, and Osiris <span class="linenum"><a href="#Page_79">79</a></span></p> - - -<h5>CHAPTER II</h5> - -<h5>THE SYMBOLISM OF THE SUBLIME</h5> - -<p>A. Pantheism of Art <span class="linenum"><a href="#Page_89">89</a></span></p> - -<p>1. Hindoo poetry <span class="linenum"><a href="#Page_90">90</a></span></p> - -<p>2. Persian and Mohammedan poetry. Modern reflections -of such poetry as in Goethe <span class="linenum"><a href="#Page_92">92</a></span></p> - -<p>3. Christian Mysticism <span class="linenum"><a href="#Page_97">97</a></span></p> - -<p>B. The Art of the Sublime <span class="linenum"><a href="#Page_97">97</a></span></p> - -<p>1. God as Creator and Lord of a subject World. He -is Creator, not Generator. His Dwelling not in -Nature <span class="linenum"><a href="#Page_100">100</a></span></p> - -<p>2. Nature and the human form cut off from the Divine -(<i>entgöttert</i>) <span class="linenum"><a href="#Page_101">101</a></span></p> - -<p>3. Nullity of objective fact a source of the enhanced -self-respect of man. Man's finiteness and immeasurable -transcendency of God. No place for -immortality. The Law <span class="linenum"><a href="#Page_103">103</a></span></p> - -<h5>CHAPTER III</h5> - -<h5>THE CONSCIOUS SYMBOLISM OF THE COMPARATIVE TYPE OF ART</h5> - -<p>A. Modes of Comparison originating from the side of externality <span class="linenum"><a href="#Page_110">110</a></span></p> - -<p>1. The Fable. Aesop <span class="linenum"><a href="#Page_113">113</a></span></p> - -<p>2. The Parable, Proverb, and Apologue <span class="linenum"><a href="#Page_122">122</a></span></p> - -<p>3. The Metamorphosis <span class="linenum"><a href="#Page_125">125</a></span></p> - -<p>B. Comparisons, which in their imaginative presentation -originate in the Significance <span class="linenum"><a href="#Page_128">128</a></span></p> - -<p>1. The Riddle <span class="linenum"><a href="#Page_130">130</a></span></p> - -<p>2. The Allegory <span class="linenum"><a href="#Page_132">132</a></span></p> - -<p>3. The Metaphor, Image, and Simile <span class="linenum"><a href="#Page_137">137</a></span></p> - -<p>C. The Disappearance of the Symbolic Type of Art <span class="linenum"><a href="#Page_161">161</a></span></p> - -<p>1. The Didactic Poem <span class="linenum"><a href="#Page_163">163</a></span></p> - -<p>2. Descriptive Poetry <span class="linenum"><a href="#Page_165">165</a></span></p> - -<p>3. Relation of both aspects of internal feeling and external -object in the ancient Epigram <span class="linenum"><a href="#Page_165">165</a></span></p> - - -<h5 class="p2">SUBSECTION II</h5> - -<h5>THE CLASSICAL TYPE OF ART</h5> - -<h5>INTRODUCTION</h5> - -<h5>THE CLASSICAL TYPE IN GENERAL</h5> - -<p>1. Self-subsistency of the Classical type viewed as the -interfusion of the spiritual and its natural form <span class="linenum"><a href="#Page_175">175</a></span></p> - -<p>[(<i>a</i>) No return of the ideal principle upon itself. No -separation of opposed aspects of inward and external <span class="linenum"><a href="#Page_175">175</a></span></p> - -<p>(<i>b</i>) Symbolism absent from this type except incidentally <span class="linenum"><a href="#Page_176">176</a></span></p> - -<p>(<i>c</i>) Reproach of anthropomorphism] <span class="linenum"><a href="#Page_179">179</a></span></p> - -<p>2. Greek art as the realized existence of the classical type <span class="linenum"><a href="#Page_181">181</a></span></p> - -<p>3. Position of the creative artist under such a type <span class="linenum"><a href="#Page_183">183</a></span></p> - -<p>[(<i>a</i>) His freedom no result of a restless process of fermentation. -Receives his material as something -assured in history or belief <span class="linenum"><a href="#Page_183">183</a></span></p> - -<p>(<i>b</i>) His plastic purpose is clearly defined <span class="linenum"><a href="#Page_184">184</a></span></p> - -<p>(<i>c</i>) High level of technical ability <span class="linenum"><a href="#Page_185">185</a></span></p> - -<p>Classification of subject-matter] <span class="linenum"><a href="#Page_186">186</a></span></p> - -<h5>CHAPTER I</h5> - -<h5>THE FORMATIVE PROCESS OF THE CLASSICAL TYPE OF ART</h5> - -<p>Introduction and Division of subject <span class="linenum"><a href="#Page_189">189</a></span></p> - -<p>1. The Degradation of Animalism as such <span class="linenum"><a href="#Page_191">191</a></span></p> - -<p>(<i>a</i>) The sacrifice of animals. How regarded by the -Greeks <span class="linenum"><a href="#Page_192">192</a></span></p> - -<p>(<i>b</i>) The Chase, or examples of such in heroic times <span class="linenum"><a href="#Page_194">194</a></span></p> - -<p>(<i>c</i>) Tales of metamorphosis. Illustrations both from -Greek and Egyptian traditions <span class="linenum"><a href="#Page_194">194</a></span></p> - -<p>2. The Contest between the older and later Dynasties of -Gods <span class="linenum"><a href="#Page_201">201</a></span></p> - -<p>(<i>a</i>) The oracles whereby the gods attest their presence -through natural existences <span class="linenum"><a href="#Page_205">205</a></span></p> - -<p>(<i>b</i>) The ancient gods in contradistinction from the -new <span class="linenum"><a href="#Page_208">208</a></span></p> - -<p>[(<i>α</i>) The Titan natural potences included among the -older régime <span class="linenum"><a href="#Page_208">208</a></span></p> - -<p>(<i>β</i>) They are the powers of Earth and the stars <span class="linenum"><a href="#Page_208">208</a></span> -without spiritual or ethical content. Prometheus. -The Erinnyes <span class="linenum"><a href="#Page_209">209</a></span></p> - -<p>(<i>γ</i>) The order of these gods is a succession] <span class="linenum"><a href="#Page_215">215</a></span></p> - -<p>(<i>c</i>) The conquest of the older régime of gods <span class="linenum"><a href="#Page_217">217</a></span></p> - -<p>3. The Positive Conservation of the conditions set up by -Negation <span class="linenum"><a href="#Page_220">220</a></span></p> - -<p>(<i>a</i>) The Mysteries <span class="linenum"><a href="#Page_220">220</a></span></p> - -<p>(<i>b</i>) Preservation of old régime still more obvious in artistic -creations. Illustrations from Greek poetry <span class="linenum"><a href="#Page_221">221</a></span></p> - -<p>(<i>c</i>) The Nature-basis of the later gods. Nature not in -itself divine to the Greek. Illustrations of both -points of view <span class="linenum"><a href="#Page_223">223</a></span></p> - -<h5>CHAPTER II</h5> - -<h5>THE IDEAL OF THE CLASSICAL TYPE OF ART</h5> - -<p>Introduction and Division of subject-matter <span class="linenum"><a href="#Page_229">229</a></span></p> - -<p>1. The Ideal of Classical Art generally <span class="linenum"><a href="#Page_230">230</a></span></p> - -<p>(<i>a</i>) The Classical Ideal is a creation of free artistic -activity, though it reposes on earlier historical -elements <span class="linenum"><a href="#Page_230">230</a></span></p> - -<p>[(<i>α</i>) The Greek gods are neither the appearance of -mere external Nature, nor the abstraction from -one Godhead <span class="linenum"><a href="#Page_232">232</a></span></p> - -<p>(<i>β</i>) The Greek artist is a poet. But his productive -power is concretely spiritual, not merely capricious <span class="linenum"><a href="#Page_233">233</a></span></p> - -<p>(<i>γ</i>) The relation of the Greek gods to human life. -Illustrations from Homer, etc.] <span class="linenum"><a href="#Page_233">233</a></span></p> - -<p>(<i>b</i>) What is the type of the new gods of Greek art? <span class="linenum"><a href="#Page_235">235</a></span></p> - -<p>[(<i>α</i>) Their concentrated individuality, or substantive -characterization <span class="linenum"><a href="#Page_236">236</a></span></p> - -<p>(<i>β</i>) Their beauty not merely spiritual, but also plastic <span class="linenum"><a href="#Page_237">237</a></span></p> - -<p>(<i>γ</i>) Removal of them from all that is purely finite -into a sphere of lofty blessedness exalted above -mere sensuous shape] <span class="linenum"><a href="#Page_238">238</a></span></p> - -<p>(<i>c</i>) The nature of the external representation. Sculpture, -in its secure self-possession, most suited as -the medium <span class="linenum"><a href="#Page_241">241</a></span></p> - -<p>2. The Sphere or Cycle of the Individual Gods <span class="linenum"><a href="#Page_242">242</a></span></p> - -<p>(<i>a</i>) What is called the "divine Universum" is here -broken up into particular deities <span class="linenum"><a href="#Page_242">242</a></span></p> - -<p>(<i>b</i>) Absence of an articulate system <span class="linenum"><a href="#Page_243">243</a></span></p> - -<p>(<i>c</i>) The general character of their distinguishing attributes <span class="linenum"><a href="#Page_244">244</a></span></p> - -<p>3. The particular Individuality of the Gods <span class="linenum"><a href="#Page_246">246</a></span></p> - -<p>(<i>a</i>) The appropriate material for such individualization</p> - -<p>[(<i>α</i>) The natural religions of symbolism a primary -source. Illustrations <span class="linenum"><a href="#Page_247">247</a></span></p> - -<p>(<i>β</i>) That of local conditions <span class="linenum"><a href="#Page_250">250</a></span></p> - -<p>(<i>γ</i>) That of the world of concrete fact. Illustrations -from Homer, etc.] <span class="linenum"><a href="#Page_254">254</a></span></p> - -<p>(<i>b</i>) Retention of a fundamental ethical basis <span class="linenum"><a href="#Page_258">258</a></span></p> - -<p>(<i>c</i>) Advance in the direction of grace and charm <span class="linenum"><a href="#Page_259">259</a></span></p> - -<h5>CHAPTER III</h5> - -<h5>THE DISSOLUTION OF THE CLASSICAL TYPE</h5> - -<p>1. Fate or Destiny <span class="linenum"><a href="#Page_261">261</a></span></p> - -<p>2. Dissolution through the nature of the anthropomorphism -of the gods <span class="linenum"><a href="#Page_263">263</a></span></p> - -<p>[(<i>a</i>) Absence or defect of the principle of subjectivity as -here asserted <span class="linenum"><a href="#Page_263">263</a></span></p> - -<p>(<i>b</i>) The transition to Christian conceptions only found -in more modern art. The prosaic art of the Aufklärung. -Illustrations <span class="linenum"><a href="#Page_266">266</a></span></p> - -<p>(<i>c</i>) The dissolution of classical art in its own province] <span class="linenum"><a href="#Page_270">270</a></span></p> - -<p>3. Satire <span class="linenum"><a href="#Page_273">273</a></span></p> - -<p>(<i>a</i>) Distinction between the dissolution of classical and -symbolic art <span class="linenum"><a href="#Page_274">274</a></span></p> - -<p>(<i>b</i>) The Satire <span class="linenum"><a href="#Page_276">276</a></span></p> - -<p>(<i>c</i>) The Roman world as the basis of the satire with -illustrations ancient and modern <span class="linenum"><a href="#Page_277">277</a></span></p> - - -<h5 class="p2">SUBSECTION III</h5> - -<h5>THE ROMANTIC TYPE OF ART</h5> - -<h5>INTRODUCTION OF THE ROMANTIC IN GENERAL</h5> - -<p>1. The Principle of inward Subjectivity <span class="linenum"><a href="#Page_282">282</a></span></p> - -<p>2. The steps in the Evolution of the content and form of -the Romantic Principle <span class="linenum"><a href="#Page_283">283</a></span></p> - -<p>[(<i>a</i>) Point of departure deduced from the Absolute viewed -as the determinate existence of a self-knowing -subject of thought and volition. Man viewed as -self-possessed Divine. History of Christ <span class="linenum"><a href="#Page_286">286</a></span></p> - -<p>(<i>b</i>) This process of self-recognition and reconcilement -viewed as a process in which strain and conflict -arise. Death as viewed by Christian and Greek -art contrasted <span class="linenum"><a href="#Page_287">287</a></span></p> - -<p>(<i>c</i>) The finite aspect of subjective life in the secular -interests, the passions, collisions, and suffering, -or enjoyment of the earthly life] <span class="linenum"><a href="#Page_290">290</a></span></p> - -<p>3. The romantic mode of exposition in relation to its content <span class="linenum"><a href="#Page_291">291</a></span></p> - -<p>(<i>a</i>) The content of romantic viewed relatively to the -Divine extremely restricted. Nature divested of its -association, symbolic or otherwise, with Divinity <span class="linenum"><a href="#Page_291">291</a></span></p> - -<p>(<i>b</i>) Religion the premiss of romantic art in a far more -enhanced degree than in symbolic art. Influence -of the romantic principle on the medium adopted <span class="linenum"><a href="#Page_293">293</a></span></p> - -<p>(<i>c</i>) Two worlds covered by the romantic principle, viz., -the soul-kingdom of Spirit reconciled therein, -and the realm of external Nature from which even -the aspect of ugliness is not excluded. Latter -world only portrayed in so far as soul finds a home -therein] <span class="linenum"><a href="#Page_293">293</a></span></p> - -<p>Division of subject-matter <span class="linenum"><a href="#Page_295">295</a></span></p> - -<h5>CHAPTER I</h5> - -<h5>THE RELIGIOUS DOMAIN OF ROMANTIC ART</h5> - -<p>1. The Redemption history of Christ <span class="linenum"><a href="#Page_302">302</a></span></p> - -<p>(<i>a</i>) The principle of Love as paramount in this religious -sphere. How far Art in such a sphere is a superfluity <span class="linenum"><a href="#Page_303">303</a></span></p> - -<p>(<i>b</i>) From a certain aspect the appearance of Art is -necessary <span class="linenum"><a href="#Page_303">303</a></span></p> - -<p>(<i>c</i>) The aspect of contingency in the particularity of an -individual Person as such Divine <span class="linenum"><a href="#Page_304">304</a></span></p> - -<p>[(<i>α</i>) The presentment by artists of the exterior personality -of Christ <span class="linenum"><a href="#Page_304">304</a></span></p> - -<p>(<i>β</i>) The conflict inherent in the religious growth, -viewed as a process, though determining that -process universally, is concentrated in the history -of <i>one</i> person in the first instance <span class="linenum"><a href="#Page_306">306</a></span></p> - -<p>(<i>γ</i>) The feature of death only regarded here as a -point of transition to self-reconcilement] <span class="linenum"><a href="#Page_308">308</a></span></p> - -<p>2. Religious Love <span class="linenum"><a href="#Page_309">309</a></span></p> - -<p>(<i>a</i>) Conception of the Absolute as Love <span class="linenum"><a href="#Page_309">309</a></span></p> - -<p>(<i>b</i>) Form of Love as self-concentrated emotion. Affiliation -of such with sensuous presentment <span class="linenum"><a href="#Page_310">310</a></span></p> - -<p>(<i>c</i>) Love as the Ideal of romantic art <span class="linenum"><a href="#Page_310">310</a></span></p> - -<p>[(<i>α</i>) Christ as Divine Love <span class="linenum"><a href="#Page_311">311</a></span></p> - -<p>(<i>β</i>) Form most compatible with Art the love of -mother. Mary, mother of Jesus <span class="linenum"><a href="#Page_311">311</a></span></p> - -<p>(<i>γ</i>) Love of Christ's disciples and the Christian community] <span class="linenum"><a href="#Page_313">313</a></span></p> - -<p>3. The Spirit of the Community <span class="linenum"><a href="#Page_313">313</a></span></p> - -<p>(<i>a</i>) The Martyrs <span class="linenum"><a href="#Page_315">315</a></span></p> - -<p>(<i>b</i>) Penance and conversion within the soul <span class="linenum"><a href="#Page_320">320</a></span></p> - -<p>(<i>c</i>) Miracles and Legends <span class="linenum"><a href="#Page_323">323</a></span></p> - -<h5>CHAPTER II</h5> - -<h5>CHIVALRY</h5> - -<p>Introduction <span class="linenum"><a href="#Page_325">325</a></span></p> - -<p>1. Honour <span class="linenum"><a href="#Page_332">332</a></span></p> - -<p>(<i>a</i>) Notion of same. Contrast between Greek and -modern art in this respect <span class="linenum"><a href="#Page_332">332</a></span></p> - -<p>(<i>b</i>) Vulnerability of same <span class="linenum"><a href="#Page_335">335</a></span></p> - -<p>(<i>c</i>) Reparation demanded. Honour a mode of self-subsistency -which is self-reflective <span class="linenum"><a href="#Page_336">336</a></span></p> - -<p>2. Love <span class="linenum"><a href="#Page_337">337</a></span></p> - -<p>(<i>a</i>) Fundamental conception of. Illustrations from -poetry <span class="linenum"><a href="#Page_337">337</a></span></p> - -<p>(<i>b</i>) Collisions of the same <span class="linenum"><a href="#Page_341">341</a></span></p> - -<p>[(<i>α</i>) That between honour and love <span class="linenum"><a href="#Page_341">341</a></span></p> - -<p>(<i>β</i>) That between the supreme spiritual forces of -state, family, etc., and love <span class="linenum"><a href="#Page_342">342</a></span></p> - -<p>(<i>γ</i>) Opposition between love and external conditions -in the prose of life and the prejudice of -others] <span class="linenum"><a href="#Page_342">342</a></span></p> - -<p>(<i>c</i>) Limitation of contingency inherent in the conception -itself <span class="linenum"><a href="#Page_343">343</a></span></p> - -<p>3. Fidelity <span class="linenum"><a href="#Page_345">345</a></span></p> - -<p>(<i>a</i>) Loyalty of service <span class="linenum"><a href="#Page_346">346</a></span></p> - -<p>(<i>b</i>) The nature of its co-ordination with a social order -either in the world of Chivalry or the modern <span class="linenum"><a href="#Page_347">347</a></span></p> - -<p>(<i>c</i>) Nature of its collisions. Illustrations. The "Cid," -etc. <span class="linenum"><a href="#Page_348">348</a></span></p> - -<h5>CHAPTER III</h5> - -<h5>THE FORMAL SELF-STABILITY OF PARTICULAR -INDIVIDUALITIES</h5> - -<p>Introduction <span class="linenum"><a href="#Page_350">350</a></span></p> - -<p>1. The Self-subsistence of individual Character <span class="linenum"><a href="#Page_354">354</a></span></p> - -<p>(<i>a</i>) The formal stability of character <span class="linenum"><a href="#Page_355">355</a></span></p> - -<p>(<i>b</i>) Character viewed as an inward but undisclosed -totality. Illustrations from Shakespeare <span class="linenum"><a href="#Page_359">359</a></span></p> - -<p>(<i>c</i>) The substantial interest in the display of such formal -character. Shakespeare's vulgar characters, and -the geniality of their presentment <span class="linenum"><a href="#Page_365">365</a></span></p> - -<p>2. The Spirit of Adventure <span class="linenum"><a href="#Page_367">367</a></span></p> - -<p>(<i>a</i>) The contingent nature of ends and collisions <span class="linenum"><a href="#Page_368">368</a></span></p> - -<p>[(<i>α</i>) Christian Chivalry in its conflict with Moors, -Arabs, and Mohammedans. Crusades. Holy Grail <span class="linenum"><a href="#Page_369">369</a></span></p> - -<p>(<i>β</i>) The universal spirit of adventure in the personal -experience of individuals. Dante and the "Divine -Comedy" <span class="linenum"><a href="#Page_371">371</a></span></p> - -<p>(<i>γ</i>) The contingency within the soul due to love, -honour, and fidelity] <span class="linenum"><a href="#Page_371">371</a></span></p> - -<p>(<i>b</i>) The comic treatment of such contingency. Ariosto -and Cervantes, contrast between <span class="linenum"><a href="#Page_372">372</a></span></p> - -<p>(<i>c</i>) The spirit of the novel or romance <span class="linenum"><a href="#Page_375">375</a></span></p> - -<p>3. The Dissolution of the Romantic type <span class="linenum"><a href="#Page_377">377</a></span></p> - -<p>(<i>a</i>) The artistic imitation of what is directly presented by Nature <span class="linenum"><a href="#Page_379">379</a></span></p> - -<p>[(<i>α</i>) Naturalism in poetry. Diderot, Goethe, and -Schiller <span class="linenum"><a href="#Page_381">381</a></span></p> - -<p>(<i>β</i>) Dutch <i>genre</i> painting <span class="linenum"><a href="#Page_382">382</a></span></p> - -<p>(<i>γ</i>) Interest in objects delineated related to artistic -personality] <span class="linenum"><a href="#Page_385">385</a></span></p> - -<p>(<i>b</i>) Individual Humour <span class="linenum"><a href="#Page_386">386</a></span></p> - -<p>(<i>c</i>) The end of the romantic type of Art <span class="linenum"><a href="#Page_388">388</a></span></p> - -<p>[(<i>α</i>) Conditions under which it is possible for the -artist to bring the Absolute before the aesthetic -sense <span class="linenum"><a href="#Page_389">389</a></span></p> - -<p>(<i>β</i>) The position of Art at the present day. Analogous -position of modern artist and dramatist <span class="linenum"><a href="#Page_391">391</a></span></p> - -<p>(<i>γ</i>) General review of previously evolved process -of Art's typical structure. What is possible for -modern art and the conditions necessary. Illustration -of the terminus of romantic art with the -nature of the Epigram. Supreme function of Art] <span class="linenum"><a href="#Page_394">394</a></span></p> - -<p style="font-size: 0.8em;"><a href="#INDEX">INDEX</a></p> -</blockquote> -<hr class="chap" /> - - - - - -<h4><a name="SECOND_PART" id="SECOND_PART">SECOND PART</a></h4> - -<h3>EVOLUTION OF THE IDEAL IN THE PARTICULAR TYPES OF FINE ART</h3> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_xv" id="Page_xv">[Pg xv]</a><br /><a name="Page_1" id="Page_1">[Pg 1]</a></span></p> - - - -<h4>THE PHILOSOPHY OF FINE ART</h4> - - -<h4>INTRODUCTION</h4> - - -<p>All that has hitherto been the object of our examination in the -first part of this inquiry referred to the reality of the Idea of -the beautiful as Ideal of art. In whatever direction, however, we -developed the notion of the ideal art-product, we throughout applied -to it a meaning of purely general signification. But the idea of the -beautiful implies a totality likewise of essential differences, which -as such must in veritable form assert themselves. These differences we -may broadly describe as the <i>particular modes</i> of art, as the evolved -content of that which is implied in the notion of the Ideal, and which -secures actual form through art. When, however, we speak of these -forms of art as of distinct species or grades<a name="FNanchor_1_1" id="FNanchor_1_1"></a><a href="#Footnote_1_1" class="fnanchor">[1]</a> of the Ideal, we do -not accept the term in the ordinary usage of it as though we found -here in external guise particular classes of objects related to and -modifying the Ideal respectively as their common genus. Species in the -sense used here simply expresses the various and continuously expanding -determination of the idea of the beautiful and the Ideal of art itself. -The universality of the ideal representation is in the case posited not -determined on the side of external existence, but is assumed to be the -closer determination of itself in the explication of its own notion; -or, in other words, it is the notion itself which unfolds itself in a -totality of particular types of art.</p> - -<p>More closely regarded, then, the specific types of art have<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_2" id="Page_2">[Pg 2]</a></span> their -origin, as the unfolded realization of the Idea of the beautiful, in -the very nature of the Idea itself, which by means of them presses -forward to real and concrete appearance. Moreover, just in so far as it -ceases to expand<a name="FNanchor_2_2" id="FNanchor_2_2"></a><a href="#Footnote_2_2" class="fnanchor">[2]</a> in the abstract determination or concrete fulness -of any one of them, it manifests itself in some other form of realized -expression. For the Idea is only Idea in its essential truth in so far -as it proceeds in this self-evolution by means of its own activity. -And inasmuch as it is, as Ideal, immediate appearance, and moreover -with each mode thereof is still identical as the idea of the beautiful, -we find that in every particular phase which reveals the Ideal in its -process of self-explication we have another actual manifestation which -is immediately related to the essential characterization of those -diverse types of yet further expansion. It really is a matter of no -consequence whether we regard this process as a process of the Idea -within its own substance, or that of the form under which it attains -determinate existence, inasmuch as both aspects are immediately bound -up with each other, and the perfecting of the Idea as content, and the -perfecting of its form are but two ways of expressing the same process. -Or, to put the matter in the reverse way, the defects of a given form -of art of this kind betray themselves as a defect of the Idea, in so -far as such defects give a limited significance to the essential nature -of the Idea in external form, and as such invest it with reality. -When we consequently compare such still inadequate forms of art with -what most obviously presents itself for comparison, that is, the true -Ideal, we must be careful not to use expressions commonly applicable to -works of art that are failures, which either express nothing at all, -or have discovered an incompetence to express what ought to have been -expressed. Rather for every form of the Idea there is a definite mode -of appearance, which clothes it precisely in one of those particular -forms of art to which we have adverted, adequate in every respect -thereto, and the defective or perfected character of which consists -entirely in the relative truth or untruth of the determinate form, -under which and through<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_3" id="Page_3">[Pg 3]</a></span> which the Idea is actually realized. For the -content must first be clothed with reality and concreteness before it -can attain to the form wholly adequate to its essential truth. As we -have already indicated in the previous division of our subject-matter, -we have three fundamental forms or types of art to examine.</p> - -<p><i>First</i>, we have the <i>symbolical.</i> In this the Idea is still seeking -for its true artistic expression, because it is here still essentially -abstract and undetermined, and consequently has not mastered for itself -the external appearance adequate to its own substance, but rather finds -itself in unresolved opposition to the external objects in physical -Nature and the world of mankind. And inasmuch as in this crude relation -to objective existence it immediately surmises its own isolation, or -is carried into some form of concrete existence by means, of universal -characteristics which are void of all true definition, it vitiates and -falsifies the actual forms of reality which it has found, and which -it seizes in a wholly capricious way<a name="FNanchor_3_3" id="FNanchor_3_3"></a><a href="#Footnote_3_3" class="fnanchor">[3]</a>. And, consequently, instead -of being able to identify itself completely with the object, it can -only assert a kind of accord, or rather a still abstract reflection of -significance and figure, a mode of representation which, being neither -complete in its artistic fusion, nor capable of being completed, -suffers the object to emerge as reciprocally external, strange, and -inadequate to itself as it was before.</p> - -<p><i>Secondly</i>, we have the form in which the Idea, here in accordance -with its true notional activity, is carried beyond the abstraction and -indeterminacy of general characterization<a name="FNanchor_4_4" id="FNanchor_4_4"></a><a href="#Footnote_4_4" class="fnanchor">[4]</a>, is conscious of itself -as free and infinite subjectivity, and grasps that self-conscious life -in its real existence as Spirit (Mind). Spirit, as the free subject of -consciousness, is self-determined through its own resources, and even -in this its conscious grasp of self-determination possesses a form of -externality adequate to express it, and one in which the essential -import of that consciousness can be united with an explicit reality -entirely appropriate. This second type of art, the <i>classical</i>, is -based upon such absolutely homogeneous unity of content and form. In -order, however, to make<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_4" id="Page_4">[Pg 4]</a></span> this unity complete the human spirit, in so -far as it makes itself the object of art, must not be taken as Spirit -in the absolute significance we refer to it, where it discovers its -adequate subsistence wholly in the <i>spiritual</i> resources of its own -essential domain, but rather as a still <i>individualized</i> spirit, and as -such charged with a certain aspect of isolation. In other words, the -free individual which classical art unites to its forms appears, it is -true, as essentially universal, and consequently freed from all the -mere contingence and particularity both of the subjective world of mind -and the external world of Nature. But it is at the same time permeated -by a universality which is itself essentially individualized. For the -external form is necessarily both defined and singular by virtue of -its externality, which it is only capable of completely fusing with an -artistic content by representing that content as itself defined, and -consequently of a limited character; and, moreover, it is only Spirit -that is thus particularized which can pass into an objective shape and -unite itself with the same in an inseparable unity.</p> - -<p>In this form Art has reached the fulness of its own notion to this -extent, namely, that the Idea, which is here spiritual individuality, -brought into immediate accord with itself in the form of its bodily -presence, receives from it a presentation so complete, that external -existence is no longer able to preserve its consistency as against the -ideal significance which it serves to express; or, to put it in the -reverse way, the spiritual content is exclusively manifested in the -elaborated form within which Art clothes it for sensuous perception, -and thereby affirmatively asserts itself in the same.</p> - -<p><i>Thirdly</i>, we have the form in which the Idea of beauty grasps its -own being as <i>absolute</i> Spirit, Spirit, that is to say, in the full -consciousness of its untrammelled freedom. But for this very reason -it is unable any more to obtain complete realization in forms which -are external; its true determinate existence is now that which it -possesses in itself as Spirit. That unity of the life of Spirit and -its external appearance which we find in classical art is unbound, -and it flees from the same once more into itself. It is this recoil -which presents to us the fundamental type of the <i>romantic</i> type of -art. Here we find, by reason of the free spirituality<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_5" id="Page_5">[Pg 5]</a></span> which pervades -the content, such content makes a more ideal demand upon expression -than the mere representation through an external or physical medium -is able to supply; the form on its external side sinks therefore to -a relation of <i>indifference</i>; and in the romantic form of art we -consequently meet with a separation between content and form as we -previously found it in the symbolic form, with this difference that -it is now due to the subordination of matter to spiritual expression -rather than the predominance of externality over ideal significance. -It is in this way that symbolic art <i>seeks</i> after that perfected unity -of ideal significance and external form, which classical art in its -representation of substantive individuality succeeds in <i>communicating</i> -to sensuous perception, and which romantic art <i>passes over and beyond</i> -through its overwhelming insistence on the claims of Spirit.</p> -<hr class="r5" /> -<div class="footnote"> - -<p><a name="Footnote_1_1" id="Footnote_1_1"></a><a href="#FNanchor_1_1"><span class="label">[1]</span></a> <i>Art.</i> Hegel takes the ordinary scientific sense to -describe the meaning. The word "type" would more truly express it.</p></div> - -<div class="footnote"> - -<p><a name="Footnote_2_2" id="Footnote_2_2"></a><a href="#FNanchor_2_2"><span class="label">[2]</span></a> <i>Für sich selber ist.</i> That is, having arrived at one form -of determination, returns upon itself and throws off another form, just -as the plant germ after arriving at the leaf expands into the bud, and -so on.</p></div> - -<div class="footnote"> - -<p><a name="Footnote_3_3" id="Footnote_3_3"></a><a href="#FNanchor_3_3"><span class="label">[3]</span></a> That is, with no reference to intelligent principle.</p></div> - -<div class="footnote"> - -<p><a name="Footnote_4_4" id="Footnote_4_4"></a><a href="#FNanchor_4_4"><span class="label">[4]</span></a> <i>Allgemeiner Gedanken.</i> Hegel means the bare -generalizations or abstract conceptions of thought.</p> - -<hr class="chap" /> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_6" id="Page_6">[Pg 6]</a><br /><a name="Page_7" id="Page_7">[Pg 7]</a></span></p></div> - - - - -<h5>SUBSECTION I</h5> - -<h4>THE SYMBOLIC TYPE OF ART</h4> - -<h5>INTRODUCTION</h5> - -<h5>OF THE SYMBOL GENERALLY</h5> - -<p>Symbol, in the signification we here attach to the word, is not -merely the beginning of art from the point of view of its notional -development, but marks also its first appearance in history. We -may consequently regard it as only the forecourt of art, which is -principally the possession of the East, and through which, after a -variety of transitional steps and mediating passages, we are at last -introduced to the genuine realization of the Ideal in the classical -type of art. We must therefore from the very first take care to -distinguish symbol where its unique characteristics provide it with an -independent sphere of its own, in which it determines the radical and -effective type of a certain form of art's exposition and presentment -from that kind of symbolic expression which amounts to no more than -a purely external aspect of form entirely without such independent -significance. In the latter sense we, in fact, come across it in -the classical and romantic forms of art just as certain aspects of -symbolical art are not wholly without the characteristic features -of the classical Ideal, or present to us the origins of romantic -art. Such reciprocal interplay between the fundamental forms of art -attaches, however, merely to subsidiary images or isolated traits; it -has no power whatever to modify, still less to expunge, the animating -principle which essentially determines the character of the entire work -of art.</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_8" id="Page_8">[Pg 8]</a></span></p> - -<p>In such cases where we find symbol elaborated in its entirely unique -and independent form it is as a general rule characterized by the -quality of the <i>sublime</i>, because its main impression is to show us the -Idea still united to measureless dimension rather than rounded in a -free and self-defined content; it would fain clothe itself with form, -and yet is unable to secure in the substantial appearances of the world -a definite form which is entirely adequate to express the abstractness -and universality of its longing. On account of this inability to attain -its purpose the Idea passes over and beyond the external existence -which surrounds it instead of penetrating to the core or completely -making its home therein. And this flight beyond the limits of the -finite and visible world is precisely that which constitutes the -general character of the sublime.</p> - -<p>But before we proceed further it will be convenient, by way of -elucidating the formal aspect of our subject, to explain at once, if in -quite general terms, what we understand by the expression symbol.</p> - -<p>Generally speaking, symbol is some form of external existence -immediately presented to the senses, which, however, is not accepted -for its own worth, as it lies thus before us in its immediacy, but -for the wider and more general significance which it offers to our -reflection. We may consequently distinguish between two points of -view equally applicable to the term; first, the <i>significance</i>, and, -secondly, the mode in which such significance is <i>expressed</i>. The -<i>first</i> is a conception of the mind, or an object which stands wholly -indifferent to any particular content, the <i>latter</i> is a form of -sensuous existence or a representation of some kind or other.</p> - -<p>1. Symbol, then, is in the first place a <i>sign.</i> When we speak of the -significant and nothing more there is no necessary connection between -the thing signified and its <i>modus</i> of expression whatever. This -manner of its expression, this sensuous thing or image, so far from -being immediately called up by that for which it is the sign, rather -presents itself to the imagination as a wholly foreign content to it, -by no means necessarily associated with it in a unique way. So, for -example, in language tones are signs of specific conditions of idea -or emotion. By far the greater number<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_9" id="Page_9">[Pg 9]</a></span> of the tones of any language -are, however, associated with the ideas, which are thereby expressed -entirely by chance, so far as the content of those ideas is concerned, -even though the history of the development of language may show us that -the original connection between the two was of a different nature, and -that an essential element in the difference between one language and -another consists in this, that the same idea is expressed through a -different sound. Another example of such bare signs are colours<a name="FNanchor_5_5" id="FNanchor_5_5"></a><a href="#Footnote_5_5" class="fnanchor">[5]</a>, -which we used in cockades or flags in order to express the nationality -of an individual or vessel. Such colours by themselves alone carry -no particular quality which can be immediately related to the thing -they signify, that is, the nation which they represent. In a sense -such as this, where the bond between the signification and the sign is -one of <i>indifference</i>, symbol must not be understood when we connect -the expression with art. For art consists precisely in the reciprocal -relation, affinity, and substantive fusion of significance and form.</p> - -<p>2. We must consequently interpret sign in a different sense when we -speak of it as equivalent to symbol. The lion is, for example, a symbol -of magnanimity, the fox symbolizes cunning, the circle eternity, -the triangle the Triune God. Here we find that the lion and the fox -themselves possess the qualities whose import they serve to express. In -the same way the circle points beyond the mere indefinite extension, or -the capriciously fixed limit of a straight line, or any other line that -does not return upon itself, and which at the same time is suitable as -the expression of a definite period of time; and the triangle regarded -as a <i>totality</i> possesses the same number of sides and angles as is -involved in the idea of God, when the determinations under which -the religious consciousness defines the Supreme Being are expressed -numerically.</p> - -<p>In the latter forms of symbol therefore the objects presented to the -senses have already in their own existence that significance, to -represent and express which they are used; symbol as employed in this -expanded sense is consequently no purely indifferent mark for something -other<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_10" id="Page_10">[Pg 10]</a></span> than itself, but a significant fact which in its own external -form already presents the content of the idea which it symbolizes. -At the same time it is not the concrete thing it is itself, which it -should bring before the imagination, but simply that general quality of -significance which attaches to it.</p> - -<p>3. We would, thirdly, draw attention to the fact that although symbol -may not, as is the case with the purely external and formal sign, be -wholly inadequate to the significance derived from it, yet, in order -that it may retain its character as symbol, it must on the other hand -present an aspect which is strange to it. In other words, though the -content which is significant, and the form which is used to typify -it in respect to a <i>single</i> quality, unite in agreement, none the -less the symbolical form must possess at the same time still <i>other</i> -qualities entirely independent of that <i>one</i> which is shared by it, -and is once for all marked as significant, just as the content<a name="FNanchor_6_6" id="FNanchor_6_6"></a><a href="#Footnote_6_6" class="fnanchor">[6]</a> -need not necessarily be a bare abstract quality such as strength or -cunning, but rather a concrete substance, which on its side, too, -possesses a variety of characteristics which distinguish it from the -primary quality in which its symbolic character consists, and in the -same way, but to a still greater degree, from everything else that -characterizes the symbolical form. The lion, for example, possesses -other qualities than mere strength, the fox than mere cunning, and -the apprehension of God is not necessarily bound up with conceptions -which imply number. The content, therefore, as thus viewed, is also -placed in a relation of <i>indifference</i> to the symbolical form, which -represents it, and the abstract quality which it typifies may quite -possibly be present in countless other existing objects. In the same -way a content which is thus varied in its composition may possess -many qualities, to symbolize any of which other forms will equally -serve where a similar correspondence with such is apparent. The same -reasoning is also applicable to the external object in which any -particular content<a name="FNanchor_7_7" id="FNanchor_7_7"></a><a href="#Footnote_7_7" class="fnanchor">[7]</a> is symbolically expressed. Such an<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_11" id="Page_11">[Pg 11]</a></span> object, in -its concrete natural existence, possesses a number of characteristics -for all of which it may stand as the symbol. The most obvious symbol -for strength is unquestionably the lion, but the ox and the horn of -the ox may equally serve as such, and from other points of view the ox -possesses many other qualities as significant. But few objects, if any, -have been brought home to the imagination with such a prodigal wealth -of symbolic form and imagery as that of the Supreme Being. We may -conclude, then, from the above remarks that the use of the term symbol -is necessarily<a name="FNanchor_8_8" id="FNanchor_8_8"></a><a href="#Footnote_8_8" class="fnanchor">[8]</a> and essentially open to <i>ambiguity.</i></p> - -<p>(<i>a</i>) For, in the first place, no sooner do we look for some symbol -than the doubt almost invariably arises whether a <i>particular form is -to be accepted as a symbol or no</i>; and this is so, though we set on one -side the further ambiguity with reference to the <i>particular</i> nature of -the content, which a given form under all the <i>variety</i> of its aspects -may be held to symbolize, many of which may be employed symbolically -through associating links that do not appear on the surface<a name="FNanchor_9_9" id="FNanchor_9_9"></a><a href="#Footnote_9_9" class="fnanchor">[9]</a>.</p> - -<p>Now what a symbol primarily offers us is generally speaking a form, an -image, which of itself is the presentment of an immediate fact. Such -immediate existence, or its image, a lion for example, an eagle, or a -particular colour, stands there before us as it is, a valid existing -fact. The question consequently arises whether a lion, whose image is -set before us, merely is set there to express the natural fact, or -whether in addition to this it carries a further significance, that is -the more abstract connotation of mere strength, or the more concrete -one of a hero or a period of the year, husbandry and anything else we -choose to infer from it; whether in fact, as we say, the image is to be -taken literally, or with a further ideal significance, or possibly only -with the latter. The last case finds its illustration in symbolical -expressions of speech and particular words such as comprehension, -conclusion<a name="FNanchor_10_10" id="FNanchor_10_10"></a><a href="#Footnote_10_10" class="fnanchor">[10]</a><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_12" id="Page_12">[Pg 12]</a></span> and others of the same kind. When such signify mental -activities we have simply set before us the immediate import of a -mental activity and no more without any recall to our memory of the -material acts, which originally were implied in the meaning of these -words. When on the contrary the picture of a lion is presented us we -have not merely the significance to consider which it may bear as -symbol, but also the bodily shape and presence of the king of beasts -before our eyes. An ambiguity of this nature can only fully disappear -when the sense attached to both aspects, namely, symbolical import, and -its external form, is expressly stated, and we learn by this means the -exact relation which exists between them. In that case, however, the -concrete fact which is set before us ceases to be a symbol in the real -meaning of the term, and becomes simply an image, the relation of which -to significance is expressed by the well-known form of comparison, -namely, <i>simile.</i> In the simile, that is to say, both factors are -immediately presented to us, the general conception and its concrete -image. When on the contrary reflection has not proceeded so far as to -hold general conceptions in assured independence, and consequently to -set them forth by themselves, in that case we find that the sensuous -image to which they are cognate, and in which a significance of more -general<a name="FNanchor_11_11" id="FNanchor_11_11"></a><a href="#Footnote_11_11" class="fnanchor">[11]</a> import is able to find its expression is not yet conceived -as separate from such a significance, but both are still immediately -held together in unity. And this it is which, as we shall see more -closely as we proceed, constitutes the distinction between symbol -and comparison. An illustration of the latter kind may be found in -that exclamation of Karl Moor, as he gazes on the setting sun: "Thus -dies a hero!" Here we see that the ideal significance is expressly -separated from the sensuous impression while at the same time it is -associated with the picture. In other cases, it is true even of similes -this act of separation<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_13" id="Page_13">[Pg 13]</a></span> in relation is not so clearly marked, and the -association appears to be more immediate; in such cases it must already -appear manifest from the general content of the narrative, from the -position assigned to the picture, or other circumstances, that viewed -as merely a statement of fact, such an image is not justified, but that -some special significance or other, which cannot fail to arrest our -attention, is intended by it. When, for example, Luther says:</p> - -<p> -<span style="margin-left: 7.5em;">A steadfast stronghold is our God.</span><br /> -</p> - -<p>or we read:</p> - -<p> -<span style="margin-left: 2.5em;">In den Ocean schifft mit tausend Masten der Jungling,</span><br /> -<span style="margin-left: 3.5em;">Still auf geretteten Boot treibt in den Hafen der Greis<a name="FNanchor_12_12" id="FNanchor_12_12"></a><a href="#Footnote_12_12" class="fnanchor">[12]</a>.</span><br /> -</p> - -<p>we can have no doubt whatever upon the implied significance, whether -it be of a protection suggested by "stronghold," the world of hopes -and life-plans symbolized in the picture of the ocean and the thousand -masts; or the narrowed aims and possessions with the assured plot of -ground at the end, which is reflected from the boat and the haven. In -the same way when we read in the Old Testament: "May God break their -teeth in their mouth, may the Lord shatter the hindermost teeth of the -young lions," it is obvious that neither the words "mouth," "teeth," -nor "hindermost teeth of the young lions" are used in the literal -sense, but are utilized as images and sensuous ideas, which carry a -significance only present to the mind, and that such <i>significance</i> is -all that matters.</p> - -<p>This ambiguity, then, is all the more conspicuous in the case of -symbolical representation for the reason that an image, which carries -a particular significance, only receives the descriptive name of -<i>symbol</i> when such significance ceases to be expressly marked by -itself, or is otherwise clearly emphasized as it is in the case of the -simile. No doubt the ambiguity of the genuine symbol is to this extent -removed in that by virtue of this very uncertainty the fusion of the -sensuous image and its significance becomes a matter more or less of -convention and custom, a feature which is indispensably<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_14" id="Page_14">[Pg 14]</a></span> necessary in -the case where mere signs are used, while on the other hand the simile -asserts itself as something individual, discovered on the spur of the -moment to assist the meaning, and is independently clear, because it -emphasizes the significance alongside of that independence. At the same -time, though no doubt the symbol may be clear enough to those who are -habituated to its use, and whose imaginative life is at home in such -a conventional atmosphere, it is a very different matter with all who -are outside this native circle, or for whom it is now a thing of the -Past; for such it is only the immediate sensuous representation which -is in the first instance seized, and it remains for these in every way -a question of doubt, whether they are to rest satisfied with that which -lies openly before their eyes, or are to accept these as indicators to -yet further imagery or ideas. When, for example, we gaze in Christian -churches upon the <i>triangle</i> in some conspicuous position on the walls, -we at once recognize that the intention is not to place before the -view this geometrical figure simply as such, but rather to draw our -attention to its spiritual significance. If, however, we were to find -it elsewhere we should probably feel equally certain that such a figure -had no reference whatever, either as sign or symbol, to the Trinity. -On the other hand a folk strange to the ideas which have grown up in -Christian countries might easily feel doubts in both cases, and it is -by no means easy for ourselves to determine with equal certainty in all -cases, whether a figure of this kind is to be understood as presenting -us with its literal or symbolical interpretation.</p> - -<p>(<i>b</i>) Moreover this ambiguity does not merely apply to isolated -cases, but extends to vast areas of the entire domain of art, to the -content of an almost unlimited material open to our inspection, to the -content in full of all that Oriental art has ever produced. For this -reason, as we enter for the first time the world of ancient Persian, -Indian, or Egyptian figures and imaginative conceptions we experience -a certain feeling of uncanniness, we wander at any rate in a world -of <i>problems.</i> These fantastic images do not at once respond to our -own world; we are neither pleased nor satisfied with the immediate -impression they produce on us; rather we are instinctively carried -forward by it to probe yet further into<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_15" id="Page_15">[Pg 15]</a></span> their significance, and to -inquire what wider and profounder truths may lie concealed behind such -representations. In other productions of the same kind it is apparent -at the first glance that they are, just like so many fairy tales of -children, merely an interplay of pictorial fancy, a strange texture of -curiosities woven together at haphazard. For children delight in just -such an even surface of pictures, a play of the fancy which makes no -demand on effort or intelligence, but is simply a collection tumbled -together. Nations on the contrary, even in their childhood, require as -the food of their imaginative life a more essential content; and this -is just what in fact we find in the figures of Indian and Egyptian art, -although the interpretation of such problematical pictures is only -dimly suggested, and we experience great difficulty in deciphering it.</p> - -<p>Even in the province of classical art we meet now and again with a like -uncertainty, though it is the essence of classical art to be throughout -clear and intelligible on its own surface without the use of symbolism -of any kind. And this clarity of classical art consists in this that -it comprehends the true content of Art, in other words substantive<a name="FNanchor_13_13" id="FNanchor_13_13"></a><a href="#Footnote_13_13" class="fnanchor">[13]</a> -subjectivity, and thereby discovers at the same time the true form, -which essentially expresses nothing less than this genuine content, -so that what it appears to mind, the significance that is of it is -just that, which is veritably expressed in the external form, both the -ideal aspect and the plastic shape being entirely adequate to each -other; in symbolical art, the simile, and other forms of that kind, -the image always brings before perception something in addition to -that significance, for which it merely serves as the picture. At the -same time classical art, too, presents us with an aspect of ambiguity. -In considering the mythological phantasies of antique art it is -frequently a matter most difficult to decide, whether we do rightly -in taking such plastic figures simply for what they are, contenting -ourselves with mere wonder over the wealth and charm, which this happy -play of imaginative vigour offers us, for the reason of course that -mythology is generally accepted as nothing but an idle<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_16" id="Page_16">[Pg 16]</a></span> collection -of fairy tales, or whether on the contrary we have still to seek for -a significance of wider range and greater depth. We shall feel the -insistence of such a doubt in exceptional force where the content of -these fables refers directly to the life and activity of the Divine, -in cases, that is, where the stories handed down to us can only be -regarded as utterly unworthy of the Supreme Being, indicative of an -invention as entirely inadequate as it is in the worst possible taste. -When we read, for example, the twelve labours of Hercules, or, to take -a stronger case, are informed that Zeus hurled Hephaestus from Olympus -on to the island of Lemnos, with the result that Vulcan remained lame -ever after, we are no doubt ready to believe that the entire story is -nothing but a fairy tale of the imagination. It is just as possible to -believe that all the love affairs of Zeus are mere freaks of a prodigal -fancy. But, on the other hand, for the very reason that such stories -are told about the Supreme Divinity, it is quite equally credible that -meaning of more universal import is hidden under that which such myths -immediately transmit to us.</p> - -<p>With regard to such facts as those above stated, there are two -theories current of exceptional importance and contradictory to each -other. The one accepts mythology as a collection of stories of purely -external significance, which as such could not fail to be unworthy -presentations of the Divine nature, though able, when regarded -apart from such associations, to reveal to us much that is finely -conceived, delightful, interesting, nay, even of great beauty. They -offer us, however, no ground whatever for attempting to enlarge their -significance. In this view mythology is in the form in which it is -presented purely <i>historical</i>: under one aspect, that is, treating it -as art, in its shapes, pictures, gods, together with all the practical -activities and events it describes, it is amply self-sufficient, -or rather by the way it brings before us that which is significant -supplies its own elucidation; from another point of view, that is to -say, its origin in history, we have to regard it as built up from -local claims, no less than the chance caprice of priest, artist, and -poet, the facts of history, foreign legends and traditions. The theory -which is <i>opposed</i> to the above is unable to rest satisfied with the -purely external husk of mythological form and<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_17" id="Page_17">[Pg 17]</a></span> narration, and insists -on discovering beneath it a meaning of more universal and profounder -import, to master which, as it breaks upon the surface, it conceives to -be the main object of mythological inquiry regarded as the scientific -examination of the mythos. In this view mythology must necessarily be -apprehended as bound up with <i>symbolism.</i> And by symbolism all that is -meant here is just this, that however bizarre, ridiculous, grotesque -such myths appear to be, however much the adventitious caprice of a -plastic imagination may contribute to their form, they are essentially -a birth of Spirit; and in spite of it all contain in them significant -ideas, that is, thoughts of universal significance upon the nature of -God; they are, in short, <i>Philosophemes.</i><a name="FNanchor_14_14" id="FNanchor_14_14"></a><a href="#Footnote_14_14" class="fnanchor">[14]</a> In this latter sense -the recent work of Creuzer on symbolism is particularly noteworthy; -this writer has once more taken up the review of the mythological -conceptions of the ancient world, not, as is so frequently the fashion, -from the external and prosaic standpoint, or simply with the object of -determining this artistic merit, but rather expressly to elucidate the -intrinsic rationality of their substance. Such an inquiry proceeds from -the presupposition that myths and fabulous tales have their origin in -the human spirit, which is capable, no doubt, of playing freely with -its notions of gods, but in its religious interest marks the point -where it enters a more exalted sphere, in which reason itself is the -discoverer of form, albeit it is charged with the defect of being -unable at this early stage to exhibit the core from which it grows with -commensurate power. And this assumption is essentially just. Religion -discovers its fountain-head in Spirit, which seeks after its truth, -dimly discovers it, bringing the same to consciousness by means of -any form, which displays an affinity with this form of truth, be it a -form of narrower or wider borders. But once grant that it is reason -which seeks after such forms, and the necessity is obvious to recognize -the work of reason. Such a recognition is alone truly worthy of human -inquiry. Whoever shelves this problem makes himself master of nothing -but a motley show of unrelated learning. If we, on the other hand, -probe into, the truth of mythological conceptions as it presents itself -to mind, without at the same time excluding from our<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_18" id="Page_18">[Pg 18]</a></span> grasp that other -aspect of them, that is, the haphazard caprice therein exercised by -the imagination, and all the external influences, local or otherwise, -which have contributed to this creation, we shall then be in a position -to justify the various systems of mythology. To justify the work of -man in the imagery and forms that are the product of his spirit is -a noble enterprise, of rarer worth than the mere heaping together -of the external facts of history. The objection has no doubt been -pressed against Creuzer that here, treading in the steps of the new -Platonists<a name="FNanchor_15_15" id="FNanchor_15_15"></a><a href="#Footnote_15_15" class="fnanchor">[15]</a>, the wider significance he elucidates from the myths is -a creation he attaches to them himself; that, in short, he discovers -conceptions in them which are not merely without any historical basis -to uphold them, but which it can be positively shown he must have -first introduced before he could have found them; in other words it -is asserted that neither the people of such times nor the poets or -priests—although from another point of view emphasis is frequently -laid on the occult wisdom of the priesthood—could have possessed any -knowledge of such ideas, which would have been wholly incompatible -with the prevailing culture. Such objections, of course, are entitled -to their full weight. These peoples, poets, and priests have not, in -fact, been conscious of universal conceptions in the particular form of -universality which the human mind now discovers at the root of their -mythological ideas, in the sense that they could have deliberately -clothed such conceptions in the forms of symbolism. And as a matter -of fact this is never maintained even by Creuzer. But however true it -may be that the reflections of the ancient world over its mythology -were entirely different from those of the modern, we are by no means -therefore entitled to conclude that the conceptions of its mythology -are not essentially symbolical, and as such must be fully accepted; -rather our inference should be that in the times when these peoples -created the poetry of their myths, from the midst of a life itself -steeped in poetry, they would instinctively bring home to consciousness -all that was most spiritual and profound in that life in the forms of -the imagination rather than that of reflection, and fail to separate -conceptions which were more universal or abstract<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_19" id="Page_19">[Pg 19]</a></span> from the concrete -creations of their phantasy. That this really was the case is a fact -which we have in this inquiry to accept as fundamentally established; -we may, nevertheless, be equally prepared to admit that, in such a form -of interpretation as the symbolical, theories are apt to slip in which -are merely the product of artifice and ingenuity, much as is the case -with etymological science.</p> - -<p>(<i>c</i>) At the same time, however much we may find ourselves in general -agreement with the view that mythology, with its tales of the gods -and its circumstantial pictures of a persistently poetic imagination, -includes within its borders a content, that is to say rational and -profound religious conceptions, it is still open to us to ask in our -examination of the symbolical form of art whether for the same reason -all mythology and art is to be interpreted in a <i>symbolical sense</i>, in -accordance with that typical assertion of Friedrich von Schlegel, to -the effect that we are bound to look for an allegory in every artistic -representation. The symbolical or allegorical is then understood in the -sense that a general conception<a name="FNanchor_16_16" id="FNanchor_16_16"></a><a href="#Footnote_16_16" class="fnanchor">[16]</a> is assumed to underlie every work -of art as its motive principle and every mythological form, by bringing -the universal character of which into prominence it should then be -possible to expound the real significance of such a work or imaginative -creation. This mode of treatment is, moreover, very commonly adopted -in our own days. We find, for instance, in the more recent editions -of Dante a marked tendency to interpret every canto in an exclusively -allegorical sense, and no doubt the poetry of Dante contains many -examples of such allegories. In the same way Heyne's editions of the -classical poets evince the same disposition in their commentaries to -elucidate the general significance of every metaphorical expression by -means of the abstract conceptions of the understanding. Nor is this to -be wondered<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_20" id="Page_20">[Pg 20]</a></span> at; for it is just this faculty which is most ready to -seize upon symbol and allegory, while at the same time it separates -the sensuous image from its significance, and by so doing destroys the -unity of the artistic form, an aspect over which it is, in its zeal -for a symbolical interpretation, which aims exclusively at setting the -universal characteristic as such in relief, wholly indifferent.</p> - -<p>Such an extension of symbolism over every province of mythology and art -is by no means that which we have in view in our present consideration -of the symbolical form of art. It is not any part of our labours to -ascertain to what extent a symbolical or allegorical significance, in -this enlarged use of the term, is applicable to the forms of art. On -the contrary we shall restrict ourselves entirely to the question how -far symbolism itself is entitled to rank as a form of art; and the -question is raised in order that we may finally determine the precise -relation which subsists between artistic significance and artistic -form in so far as such a relation is symbolical and stands in contrast -to other modes of artistic presentation, in particular those of the -classical and romantic art-forms. We must consequently endeavour before -everything else expressly to limit the field of our review to that -portion where we find the symbolical is independently portrayed in its -essential character and is open to our consideration as such, rather -than attempt to make a symbolical interpretation co-extensive with -the entire domain of art. And it is consistently with such a purpose -that we have already subdivided the Ideal of art under its respective -symbolical, classical, and romantic forms.</p> - -<p>In the signification we give to the expression the symbolical -disappears at the point where we find that a free subjectivity rather -than purely abstract conceptions determines the content of the artistic -product. In this case the conscious subject is his own self-assured -significance, his own self-manifestation. All that he feels, conceives, -does, and perfects, his qualities, his actions, and his character, -all this he actually is himself; the entire gamut of his spiritual -and sensuous manifestation has no further significance than that of -declaring his subjective unity, which, in this process of expansion -and development of its own wealth, brings before the eyes of all the -man himself as master over the entire<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_21" id="Page_21">[Pg 21]</a></span> field of objective reality -thus presented to him, the world in which he discovers his existence. -Significance and sensuous presentment, inward and outward reality, -fact and picture, are here no longer separate from each other, assert -themselves here no longer as merely cognate, the characteristic -distinction of the symbolic relation, but rather as a totality, in -which the manifestation possesses no other reality, the reality no -other manifestation either outside of or alongside with itself. That -which declares itself and that which is declared is here posited<a name="FNanchor_17_17" id="FNanchor_17_17"></a><a href="#Footnote_17_17" class="fnanchor">[17]</a> in -its concrete unity. In this sense the gods of Greece, in so far, that -is to say, as the art of Greece was able to represent them as free, -self-subsistent, and unique types of personality, are to be accepted -from no symbolical point of view, but as self-sufficient in their own -persons. The actions of Zeus, for example, of Apollo or Athene are -actions appropriated by Art to themselves and only themselves, and must -not be allowed to stand for anything but the might and passion of such -personages. If we once attempt to abstract from free individualities -of this kind some general conception as the essential core of their -significance, setting it alongside their concrete particularity as -an interpretation of their entire and individual manifestation, we -let fall or annihilate all that we have failed to observe, and it is -precisely all in these figures which art seeks most to secure. For -this reason artists have been unable to take kindly to such symbolical -interpretations of all works of art and the mythological figures we -find in them. For all that is left us in the sphere of art we have just -been considering which is really compatible with an interpretation -based on symbolism or allegory only affects subsidiary aspects, -and is for that reason expressly limited to the attribute and the -representative signs; the eagle, for example, stands by Zeus, an ox is -the companion of the evangelist Luke; the Egyptians, on the contrary, -beheld in the form of Apis the Divine itself.</p> - -<p>The point so difficult to decide in connection with this manifestation -of self-conscious freedom, otherwise so appropriate to artistic -presentment, is just this, whether that which is placed before us as -such a subject really possesses<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_22" id="Page_22">[Pg 22]</a></span> a subjective individuality of the -above quality, or only carries the mere semblance of it in the form of -a <i>personified</i> shadow<a name="FNanchor_18_18" id="FNanchor_18_18"></a><a href="#Footnote_18_18" class="fnanchor">[18]</a>. In this latter case personality is nothing -but a superficial form, which fails to express its vital substance in -particular acts no less than bodily form, which would otherwise enable -it to penetrate through all that is external in its appearance as its -own possession, and instead of this still retains another inwardness -for the external reality as its significance, which is not either true -personality or subjective freedom. It is precisely at this point that -we find the boundary which includes or excludes symbolic art.</p> - -<p>Our interest, then, in the consideration of the symbol consists in -this, that we recognize thereby that process within itself where we -find the beginnings of art, in so far as the same proceeds from the -notion of that Ideal which unfolds itself gradually as art in its -truth, and while doing so recognizes each stage of symbolical art as -successive steps which conduct us to the same consummation. However -intimate the connection between religion and art may be we are not here -concerned to pass in review either symbols or religion under the range -which is co-extensive with the wider signification of the word symbol -or emblematical conceptions; we have exclusively to consider that -aspect of them, according to which they belong to art in its own right, -handing over their religious aspect to the historian of mythology and -symbolism.</p> - -<hr class="chap" /> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_23" id="Page_23">[Pg 23]</a></span></p> - - - - -<h4>DIVISION OF THE SUBJECT</h4> - - -<p>In proceeding now to a closer determination of the several divisions -of symbolic art it will be necessary, in the first place, to fix the -boundary lines within which the development of the successive grades -of this type moves forward. Speaking generally, as we have already -observed, the entire sphere we have now to define is in principle a -<i>forecourt</i> of art. We have here, in the first instance, significant -conceptions which are purely abstract, which are still in themselves -destitute of essential individuality, the immediate artistic -presentment of which may be as truly described either as adequate or -inadequate<a name="FNanchor_19_19" id="FNanchor_19_19"></a><a href="#Footnote_19_19" class="fnanchor">[19]</a>. Our first definition of boundary consists, therefore, -in determining generally the earliest modes under which artistic -perception and representation work themselves out<a name="FNanchor_20_20" id="FNanchor_20_20"></a><a href="#Footnote_20_20" class="fnanchor">[20]</a> into actuality; -on the further side of the line at the other extreme we have real art, -in the direction of which symbolic art uplifts itself as to its truth.</p> - -<p>1. In discussing the origins of this appearance of symbolic art from -the <i>subjective</i> point of view, we may draw attention to an observation -made previously, that the artistic consciousness, no less than the -religious, or rather we should say both in their essential unity, and -we may even include the impulse of scientific inquiry, have originated -in <i>wonder.</i> The man who is still unable to wonder at anything lives -in a condition of crassness and obtuseness which is devoid of all -interest, in which for him everything is as naught for the reason that -he fails as yet to separate or unravel himself from objects around him -and their own immediate and independent existence. The man, however, -at the opposite extreme, whose wonder is <i>no longer</i><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_24" id="Page_24">[Pg 24]</a></span> excited, is the -man who contemplates the entire external world as somewhat which he -has made himself clear about. It may be under the abstract conceptions -of the commonsense understanding resulting in some general survey of -knowledge attainable by the average mind, or it may be in the noble -or profounder consciousness of his own absolute spiritual freedom and -universality. In either case he has converted the bare fact of such -objects and their existence into some spiritual insight of their truth -brought home to himself. We may conclude, then, that wonder originates -in the condition where we find that man, as conscious Spirit, torn away -from his first most immediate association with Nature, and from his -earliest and entirely active<a name="FNanchor_21_21" id="FNanchor_21_21"></a><a href="#Footnote_21_21" class="fnanchor">[21]</a> relation to desire, steps back from -Nature and his own individual existence, and seeks after and finds in -the objects which surround him a universal, an essential and permanent -principle. Then for the first time the facts of Nature astonish him, -they become for him an other-than-himself he would fain appropriate, -and within which he strives to rediscover his own substance, that is -the universal, thoughts, reason. For the dim foretaste here of a higher -and the consciousness of the external are still unsevered, and this -though a contradiction between the objects of Nature and the Spirit -which perceives them is already present, a contradiction in which these -objects appear to repel him quite as much as they attract, and the -feeling of which, in the force wherewith they thrust him away, is, in -fact, the birth-pang of his very wonder.</p> - -<p>The earliest result of this condition of wonder in man's vision of -Nature is that on the one hand he sets himself in opposition to -Nature and her objective world as a principle<a name="FNanchor_22_22" id="FNanchor_22_22"></a><a href="#Footnote_22_22" class="fnanchor">[22]</a>, and adores her -as Power; on the other he is equally possessed with a desire, which -craves satisfaction, to render objective to himself his intuition of -a higher, essential, and universal somewhat, and to look upon its -rehabilitated presence. In this two-fold aspect of his conscious life -he is confronted by reality in the following way. The particular -objects of Nature, and above all those elementary facts,<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_25" id="Page_25">[Pg 25]</a></span> sea, -rivers, mountains, and constellations, are not received by him in the -singularity of their immediate presentment to sense, but, carried up -into the sphere of imaginative conception, assume for that faculty the -form of universal and essentially self-subsistent existence. And we may -trace the beginning of art in this, that it reflects these ideas of the -imagination thus universalized and essentially independent, in visible -representation for immediate perception, and sets them forth for mind -in the individual form of the same as objects. The mere adoration of -external facts, with its Nature-cult and fetish-cult, is not as yet on -this account an art of any kind.</p> - -<p>Under the aspect in which it is related to the <i>objective</i> world, -the beginnings of art are more intimately associated with religion. -The earliest works of art are of the mythological order. In religion -it is nothing less than the Absolute, which breaks to consciousness -through its own impulse<a name="FNanchor_23_23" id="FNanchor_23_23"></a><a href="#Footnote_23_23" class="fnanchor">[23]</a>, though the determinating factors of -that consciousness be the most abstract and jejune conceivable. -And the earliest <i>phase in this evolution</i> of the Absolute is the -phenomenal presence of Nature, in whose existence man dimly forebodes -the Absolute, and envisages the same for himself in the semblance of -natural objects. In this striving Art discovers its source. We shall -find, however, in this very effort art first made visible, not so -much where the Absolute is descried by human eyes in the external -world which immediately confronts them, a mode of Divine reality in -which they rest content, but rather where man's consciousness evolves -from its own substance a mode of apprehending what it conceives as -the Absolute in the form of a self-subsistent externality, no less -than that objective presentation which he unites with it in more or -less adequate fashion. For we must remember that Art possesses a -substantial content which is grasped by mind (spirit), and which, it -is true, appears in external guise, but for all that in a form of -externality, which is not merely immediately visible to sense, but is -primarily the <i>product</i> of <i>mind</i> regarded as the existing fact which -intrinsically comprehends that content as a whole and then expresses -it. Art is consequently and by virtue of<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_26" id="Page_26">[Pg 26]</a></span> its power to create forms -cognate with its own substance the <i>first</i> interpreter of the religious -consciousness; it, in fact, is the first to make the prosaic view of -the objective world a thing valid to itself<a name="FNanchor_24_24" id="FNanchor_24_24"></a><a href="#Footnote_24_24" class="fnanchor">[24]</a>, when our humanity has -fought itself essentially free as the self-consciousness of Spirit -from the immediacy of sense, and sets itself over against the same in -the strength of the same freedom with which it accepts and understands -that objectivity as simply external fact and no more. This complete -separation of the subject and object of sense-perception is, however, -indicative of a considerably later phase of man's spiritual history. -The first knowledge of truth, on the contrary, declares itself as an -intermediate state between the purely unintelligent absorption of the -individual in Nature and that spiritual condition which is entirely -released from it. This intermediate state, however, in which Spirit -merely envisages for itself its conceptions in the plastic forms of -Nature's objects because it still fails to master any form of higher -significance, although it strives through such association to bring the -two aspects of its experience into one homogeneous whole, is, to put -it in its general terms, the attitude of art and poetry as contrasted -with that of the prosaic understanding. And for this reason we find -that the prosaic consciousness declares itself first in its full bloom, -where, as is the case in the Roman and in later times throughout our -own Christian world, the principle of the subjective freedom of Spirit -is realized in its abstract and actually concrete form.</p> - -<p>2. And, <i>secondly</i>, the final <i>aim</i> toward which the effort of symbolic -art is directed, and with the attainment of which the symbolic type -is dissolved, is <i>classical art.</i> But although we find in this latter -form the true manifestation of art's essence first elaborated, it is -not the first type of art. Rather it presupposes within its content -all the various mediating and transitional stages of the symbolic form -itself. It is quite true that the essential aim of that content is to -reveal the notion as a rounded and self-defined totality, that is in -its concreteness and actuality as the individuality of Spirit; but -the notion is only then able to declare itself in such concrete form -to conscious life after it has passed through a<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_27" id="Page_27">[Pg 27]</a></span> variety of mediatory -stages forced upon it by the abstract conceptions which the nature of -its own initial impulse presupposes. It is classical art, however, -which brings to a close all the mere preliminary experiments of art in -the direction of symbolism and the sublime<a name="FNanchor_25_25" id="FNanchor_25_25"></a><a href="#Footnote_25_25" class="fnanchor">[25]</a>. And it is able to do -this inasmuch as the subjective spirit finds in it, as its essential -possession, a form truly adequate to its substance, and in the same -way that the self-determining notion creates from its own potency -the individual existence that fully expresses it. When once Art has -discovered its true content, and by doing so found its true form, its -search and striving after both, wherein the defect of symbolical art -consists, is therewith at an end.</p> - -<p>If we seek further for a closer principle of division of symbolic -art within the limits of the boundaries on either extreme hitherto -discussed, we shall find the same generally under the modes in -accordance with which it contends with the genuine significances of -art and their truly appropriate forms, the battle that is apparent -in a content which is still striving in opposition to the truth of -art, no less than in a form that is equally inadequate to express it. -For both aspects, although externally united in the identity of one -creation, are neither brought completely together themselves, nor -permeated throughout with the notion of art in its truth; and for this -reason they appear quite as much as contestants struggling to be free -from the defects of their union. We may, in short, describe symbolic -art throughout as a continuous war carried on between the comparative -adequacy and inadequacy of its import and form<a name="FNanchor_26_26" id="FNanchor_26_26"></a><a href="#Footnote_26_26" class="fnanchor">[26]</a>; and the varied -gradations of symbolic art are not so much kinds of specific difference -as they are stages and phases of one and the same incongruity between -the spiritual idea and its sensuous medium.</p> - -<p>At first, however, this contention is only potentially<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_28" id="Page_28">[Pg 28]</a></span> present, that -is to say the incompatibility of these two sides, whose union is thus -affirmed and enforced, is not yet openly present to consciousness. And -this is so for the reason that it neither recognizes for itself in its -universal nature the import which it seizes, nor is able to comprehend -the realized form in its self-subsistent and self-exclusive existence; -consequently, instead of representing to the senses both aspects -in their <i>difference</i>, it is content to proceed upon the immediate -appearance of <i>identity</i> which it enforces. In this original <i>point -of departure</i> we have before us the as yet inseparable unity of the -art-form and the symbolical expression it seeks after, fermenting, -as it were, beneath the association of contradictory elements in -mysterious guise—the unity, that is, of the real and primordial -symbolism, whose plastic shapes are as yet not <i>posited</i> as symbols at -all.</p> - -<p>The <i>termination</i> of this process<a name="FNanchor_27_27" id="FNanchor_27_27"></a><a href="#Footnote_27_27" class="fnanchor">[27]</a>, on the other hand, is the -disappearance and dissolution of the symbolic type altogether. The -strife which has hitherto been merely implied in it is now brought -home to the artistic consciousness. The act of symbolization in -consequence becomes the <i>conscious severation</i> of the transparent -significance, which is now recognized for what it is from the sensuous -image cognate with it. In this severation, however, there still remains -an express relation of reciprocity, which, however, declares itself -as such no longer in the mode of immediate identity, but rather as -a mere <i>comparison</i> between the two, in which that differentiation -and separation which in the previous type was not brought clearly -to consciousness still remains as conspicuous a factor. And this is -the sphere of that symbolism where the symbol is recognized as such. -Here we find the artistic import <i>recognized</i> and presented in its -independent universality, whose concrete embodiment is expressly placed -in subordination as an image of that presentment, and no more, and -as such a comparative medium is utilized for the purpose of artistic -representation.</p> - -<p>Halfway between that starting-point above described and this -termination of the symbolic type we find the art of the <i>sublime.</i> -In this the essential import, posited as the universality of Spirit -in its absolute self-exclusion, disengages itself in the first place -from concrete existence, permitting<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_29" id="Page_29">[Pg 29]</a></span> the same to appear as a mere -negative, external and subservient factor beside it, which it is unable -to leave, in order that it may express itself in it, standing in its -native self-subsistency. Rather it finds it necessary to declare it -as that which is essentially defective and self-dissolving, and this, -moreover, although it has naught beside as means for its expression -than just this to which it opposes itself as external and nugatory. The -splendour of this import of the sublime may be accepted in the order -of the notional process as previous to that of the mode of genuine -comparison for this reason, that the concrete particularity of natural -and any other phenomena must necessarily be treated in the first place -negatively, merely appropriated, that is to say, as the adornment -and embellishment of the unreachable might of Spirit's absolute -significance, before that express severation and discriminating -comparison of external shapes cognate with, and yet at the same time -distinct from, the import, whose image they reproduce, can assert -itself.</p> - -<p>3. The three principal stages<a name="FNanchor_28_28" id="FNanchor_28_28"></a><a href="#Footnote_28_28" class="fnanchor">[28]</a> above indicated break up naturally on -closer inspection into the following subdivisions we now summarize in -the chapters which include them.</p> - - - -<p style="font-size: 0.8em; font-weight: bold; text-align: center;">FIRST CHAPTER</p> - - -<p>A. The <i>first</i> stage which presents itself in this portion of -our subject-matter is as yet neither to be described strictly as -symbolical, nor as belonging strictly to art; it rather clears the road -to both. It is the sphere of the immediately cognized and substantive -unity of the Absolute regarded as spiritual significance with its -unsevered sensuous existence in a form presented by Nature.</p> - -<p>B. In the <i>second</i> stage we pass to the symbol in its real sense; the -dissolution of the first unity above described here commences, and -while, on the one hand, the significances assert themselves in their -independent universality above the particular phenomena of Nature, -on the other they are<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_30" id="Page_30">[Pg 30]</a></span> necessarily forced with a like insistency to -present themselves to consciousness together with this preconceived -universality in the concrete form of natural objects. In this primary -and twofold struggle to spiritualize Nature, and to present that which -is born of Spirit to sense, at this stage of the conflict between -them, we meet with all the ferment and wild, tossed hither and thither -medley, the entire fantastic and confused world that is to say of -symbolic art, which half surmises, it is true, the incongruity of its -manner of shaping, yet is unable to remedy the same save through the -distortion of its figures, while straining after a purely quantitative -sublimity that would fain devour all limits. In this phase consequently -we find ourselves in a world steeped with poetic phantasies, -incredibilities and miracle, yet fail to encounter one work of genuine -beauty.</p> - -<p>C. Owing to this strife between the spiritual significance and its -sensuous presentation, we are conducted <i>thirdly</i> to the stage we -may describe as that of the true symbol, on which the symbolic <i>work -of art</i> for the first time appears in its complete character. The -forms and shapes are here no longer those present to sense, which, -as we saw on the first mentioned stage, were immediately coincident -with the Absolute as their positive existence, without any further -modification at the hands of art; neither, as in the second phase, -are they intent on asserting their unreconciled material against the -universality of the significance merely through extensions of the -quantitative limits of Nature's objects, the ebullitions of a rioting -fancy. Rather the symbolic form, which is here throughout apparent, is -Art's own creation, a work not merely capable of expressing its own -individuality, but from another point of view possessed with the power -of presenting at the same time both the particular object that it is -and the further universal significance with which it is associated, and -which it thereby discloses to the mind, so that these very shapes stand -before us as problems which we are imperatively called upon to unriddle -and probe to the inward charge which they carry.</p> - -<p>We may at once further venture the general remark with reference to -these more clearly defined types of a symbolism still to be ranked as -elementary that they spring from the religious attitude to existence -of entire nations; for which<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_31" id="Page_31">[Pg 31]</a></span> reason it will form part of our plan to -recall their position in history. Not that complete identification of -specific types with a given period is wholly feasible. Rather it would -be truer to say that particular modes of conception and presentation, -when we refer them generally to some kind of artistic type, are mingled -up together, so that we find the specific type, which we have reason to -regard as the fundamental one in any particular nation's general view -of existence, exemplified both in earlier and later peoples<a name="FNanchor_29_29" id="FNanchor_29_29"></a><a href="#Footnote_29_29" class="fnanchor">[29]</a>, though -its repetition may only be discovered in subordinate and isolated -cases. In general, however, we may say that we possess the more -concrete manifestations and visible proofs of the first stage in the -ancient <i>Persian</i> religion of the second in the <i>Indian</i>, of the third -in that of <i>Egypt</i>.</p> - -<p style="font-size: 0.8em; font-weight: bold; text-align: center;">SECOND CHAPTER</p> - -<p>In the second chapter that significance, which has hitherto been -more or less obscured by its particular sensuous form, has at last -wrested its way to freedom, and its independent character is brought -clearly to consciousness. With this victory the relation of real -symbolism is dissolved; we have instead, through the way in which the -absolute significance<a name="FNanchor_30_30" id="FNanchor_30_30"></a><a href="#Footnote_30_30" class="fnanchor">[30]</a> is cognized as the universal <i>substance</i> -interpenetrating the entire extension of the visible world, the art of -the absolute essence<a name="FNanchor_31_31" id="FNanchor_31_31"></a><a href="#Footnote_31_31" class="fnanchor">[31]</a> in the form of a symbolism of the <i>sublime</i>; -and this now takes the place of purely symbolical and fantastic -suggestions, deformities, and riddles.</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_32" id="Page_32">[Pg 32]</a></span></p> - -<p>We have here mainly two points of view to distinguish which are based -upon differences in the relation of the substantive essence, that is -the Absolute and Divine, to the finitude of the apparent. Or rather we -may say that this relation is capable of being twofold, both <i>positive</i> -and <i>negative,</i> although in both forms, inasmuch as it is in either -case universal substance, which has to appear, it is not the particular -form and import of the objective facts, but their general principle of -animation and their position relatively to this substance which is made -visible to sense.</p> - -<p>A. In the first phase or type this relation is so conceived, that -substance, here the All and the One delivered from every form of -particularity, is immanent in the determinate phenomena as the -animating principle which brings them into being and is their life; -and moreover, it is affirmatively and immediately present to the -vision in this immanence, and is comprehended, and made the object of -representation by the individual who surrenders himself to its presence -through the adoring self-absorption in this indwelling essence of the -entire world of contingent and material things. In this point of view -we have the art of the Pantheism which possesses the Sublime as its -inherent principle, an art such as we find it in its elementary stage -in India, then elaborated in all its splendour in Mohammedanism and -its artistic mysticism, and finally with still profounder significance -reappearing in certain manifestations of Christian mysticism.</p> - -<p>B. The <i>negative</i> relation on the other hand of true Sublimity we must -look for in <i>Hebraic</i> poetry. In this poetry of the Glorious, which -is only concerned to celebrate and exalt the unimaginable Lord of -the heavens and the earth that it may employ His entire creation as -the passing instrument of His Power, as the messengers of His Glory, -as the delight and ornament of His Greatness, this service of His -Creation, be it never so magnificent<a name="FNanchor_32_32" id="FNanchor_32_32"></a><a href="#Footnote_32_32" class="fnanchor">[32]</a>, is deliberately posited as -negative, and this for the reason that it is unable to discover any -adequate or positively sufficient expression for the Power and Dominion -of the Highest, and is only able to attain a genuine satisfaction by -means of the subjection<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_33" id="Page_33">[Pg 33]</a></span> of the creature, which in the feeling and -admission of its unworthiness is alone able with adequacy to express -its insignificance<a name="FNanchor_33_33" id="FNanchor_33_33"></a><a href="#Footnote_33_33" class="fnanchor">[33]</a>.</p> - -<p style="font-size: 0.8em; font-weight: bold; text-align: center;">THIRD CHAPTER</p> - -<p>Through this independent self-assertion of significance, made -thus transparent to consciousness in its isolated simplicity, -the <i>severation</i> of the same from the imaged appearance, whose -incommensurability over against it has already been accepted, is now -essentially complete; and albeit, along with the fact of this conscious -separation, both form and import may still persist in the relation -of an intimate affinity, a necessity which is implied in the fact -of their being symbolical art, yet this relation no longer attaches -to either import or form, but is placed now in a <i>third</i> mode of -conception, which according to its own point of view, carries relations -of similarity with both these sides<a name="FNanchor_34_34" id="FNanchor_34_34"></a><a href="#Footnote_34_34" class="fnanchor">[34]</a>, and in reliance on these -relations makes visible and declares the independently transparent -significance by means of the cognate and particular image.</p> - -<p>Owing to this change the image, instead of remaining as it was -previously the unique expression of the Absolute, becomes now merely an -ornament, and we thereby discover a relation which ceases to correspond -with the notion of beauty. In other words image and significance, -instead of being moulded one within the other, confront each other as -opposites, precisely, in fact, as was the case in genuine symbolism, -though then the process remained incomplete. Consequently works of -art which are based on this form are of subordinate rank, and their -content is unable to comprise the Absolute itself, and is necessarily -restricted to circumstances and occurrences of narrower range. For this -reason<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_34" id="Page_34">[Pg 34]</a></span> the forms which are now under discussion are for the most part -merely used occasionally and by way of diversion.</p> - -<p>More closely considered we have in this chapter to distinguish between -three principal stages of our process.</p> - -<p>A. To the <i>first</i> we appropriate those types of presentation commonly -known as <i>Fable</i>, <i>Parable</i>, and <i>Apologue.</i> In these the severation -of form and significance, which constitutes the characteristic trait -of the entire sphere to which this chapter refers, is not as yet -<i>expressly</i> recognized; that is to say, the <i>subjective</i> aspect of -the comparison is not yet fully <i>emphasized</i>; consequently also the -representation of the particular and concrete phenomenon, through which -the universal significance is finally to declare itself, still remains -the <i>predominant</i> factor.</p> - -<p>B. In the <i>second</i> stage, on the contrary, the universal <i>import</i> -asserts its independent mastery over the elucidating form, which -now appears merely as <i>attribute</i>, or, under the guise of an image, -capriciously selected by the mind which makes the contrast. To this -type belong the <i>Allegory</i>, <i>Metaphor</i>, and <i>Simile</i>.</p> - -<p>C. In the <i>third</i> stage we meet with the visible and complete -<i>collapse</i> of those related aspects in the symbol which previously had -either been immediately joined in union, despite the fact of their -relative incongruity, or in their independent severation had still -persisted under a relation of affinity<a name="FNanchor_35_35" id="FNanchor_35_35"></a><a href="#Footnote_35_35" class="fnanchor">[35]</a>. Out of this arises that -form of content which is cognized as independent in its prosaic<a name="FNanchor_36_36" id="FNanchor_36_36"></a><a href="#Footnote_36_36" class="fnanchor">[36]</a> -universality, to which the art-form has become wholly an external -relation; on the one hand we find it represented by the <i>didactic</i> -poem, on the other that very aspect of its external form is accepted -for what it is, and exemplified in so-called <i>descriptive</i> poetry. Here -we find that every association and relation of symbolism has vanished; -we have to look round us for some more comprehensive union of form and -content, and one more truly adequate to the notion of art.</p> -<hr class="r5" /> -<div class="footnote"> - -<p><a name="Footnote_5_5" id="Footnote_5_5"></a><a href="#FNanchor_5_5"><span class="label">[5]</span></a> So the French expression <i>des couleurs</i>, and our English -"the colours."</p></div> - -<div class="footnote"> - -<p><a name="Footnote_6_6" id="Footnote_6_6"></a><a href="#FNanchor_6_6"><span class="label">[6]</span></a> Hegel uses the 'technical term <i>Inhalt</i> in this passage to -signify either (<i>a</i>) the quality of significance, or (<i>b</i>) the object -which is symbolized by virtue of some selected quality. The use of it -in both senses makes the passage somewhat difficult to follow.</p></div> - -<div class="footnote"> - -<p><a name="Footnote_7_7" id="Footnote_7_7"></a><a href="#FNanchor_7_7"><span class="label">[7]</span></a> <i>Inhalt</i> here evidently is the abstract quality.</p></div> - -<div class="footnote"> - -<p><a name="Footnote_8_8" id="Footnote_8_8"></a><a href="#FNanchor_8_8"><span class="label">[8]</span></a> Necessarily because such ambiguity is implied in the idea -(<i>seinem Begriff nach</i>).</p></div> - -<div class="footnote"> - -<p><a name="Footnote_9_9" id="Footnote_9_9"></a><a href="#FNanchor_9_9"><span class="label">[9]</span></a> This, I think, is the sense. The language literally is, -"Which a form under several possible significations, as symbol of any -of which (<i>deren</i>) it can be employed often through connecting links -(<i>Zusammenhänge</i>) more remote, may be taken to symbolize."</p></div> - -<div class="footnote"> - -<p><a name="Footnote_10_10" id="Footnote_10_10"></a><a href="#FNanchor_10_10"><span class="label">[10]</span></a> The German words are <i>Begreifen</i> and <i>Schliessen</i>, which -in their original sense are "to grasp with the hand" (<i>prehendo</i>) and -"to shut" or "lock up." The English words in a still fainter form carry -the same significance through the Latin language. The symbolism of -language at this stage is obviously only apparent to the student of -language.</p></div> - -<div class="footnote"> - -<p><a name="Footnote_11_11" id="Footnote_11_11"></a><a href="#FNanchor_11_11"><span class="label">[11]</span></a> That is, more abstract.</p></div> - -<div class="footnote"> - -<p><a name="Footnote_12_12" id="Footnote_12_12"></a><a href="#FNanchor_12_12"><span class="label">[12]</span></a> Or in English: /# Forth on the ocean is shipped Youth -with his thousand sails: Silent in bark barely saved steals into -harbour old age. #/</p></div> - -<div class="footnote"> - -<p><a name="Footnote_13_13" id="Footnote_13_13"></a><a href="#FNanchor_13_13"><span class="label">[13]</span></a> <i>Substantielle</i>, that is, an artistic consciousness which -is aware of its own essential nature—Spirit, and the object of pure -intelligence—the Ideal.</p></div> - -<div class="footnote"> - -<p><a name="Footnote_14_14" id="Footnote_14_14"></a><a href="#FNanchor_14_14"><span class="label">[14]</span></a> Perhaps we should rather say a Theosophy.</p></div> - -<div class="footnote"> - -<p><a name="Footnote_15_15" id="Footnote_15_15"></a><a href="#FNanchor_15_15"><span class="label">[15]</span></a> The Alexandrine School, of which Plotinus and Philo are -leading names.</p></div> - -<div class="footnote"> - -<p><a name="Footnote_16_16" id="Footnote_16_16"></a><a href="#FNanchor_16_16"><span class="label">[16]</span></a> <i>Ein allgemeiner Gedanke.</i> The reference throughout -this paragraph to the universality of the ideas of reflection as -contrasted with the sensuous image is rather a reference to the -abstract conceptions of the analytical mind, that is, which are usually -understood as universals in the sense of generic conceptions, than -any fuller grasp of concrete reality such as possesses a truly ideal -significance. So in its application to the metaphor I imagine what is -meant is that we have here the process of dry analysis which merely -destroys its significance as metaphor, that is, its synthetic unity for -our aesthetic sense.</p></div> - -<div class="footnote"> - -<p><a name="Footnote_17_17" id="Footnote_17_17"></a><a href="#FNanchor_17_17"><span class="label">[17]</span></a> <i>Ist aufgehoben</i>, here not in the sense of being -cancelled, but raised to the expression of concrete unity.</p></div> - -<div class="footnote"> - -<p><a name="Footnote_18_18" id="Footnote_18_18"></a><a href="#FNanchor_18_18"><span class="label">[18]</span></a> <i>Als blosse Personification</i>, that is, an -individualization which impersonates the subjective identity without -possessing its concrete substance, a personified shadow like the -sphinx. Such appears to be the sense.</p></div> - -<div class="footnote"> - -<p><a name="Footnote_19_19" id="Footnote_19_19"></a><a href="#FNanchor_19_19"><span class="label">[19]</span></a> Because the content for which such shapes (<i>Gestaltung</i>) -are given is itself incoherent, and therefore incompatible with -adequate expression.</p></div> - -<div class="footnote"> - -<p><a name="Footnote_20_20" id="Footnote_20_20"></a><a href="#FNanchor_20_20"><span class="label">[20]</span></a> <i>Sichhervorarbeiten.</i> Our word "elaborate" is here -insufficient. Hegel means the mode in which the Idea of art works -itself free from entirely potential obscurity into a living force, -a real <i>energeia.</i> We cannot say "emerges into daylight," however, -because the highest grasp of symbolic art is still only a twilight. It -is like the growth of the plant-germ, still underground, or partially -so.</p></div> - -<div class="footnote"> - -<p><a name="Footnote_21_21" id="Footnote_21_21"></a><a href="#FNanchor_21_21"><span class="label">[21]</span></a> <i>Pracktischen.</i> Not matter-of-fact relation, but rather a -relation that asserts itself exclusively in action.</p></div> - -<div class="footnote"> - -<p><a name="Footnote_22_22" id="Footnote_22_22"></a><a href="#FNanchor_22_22"><span class="label">[22]</span></a> <i>Als Grund</i>, that is, as a fundamental unity of the real.</p></div> - -<div class="footnote"> - -<p><a name="Footnote_23_23" id="Footnote_23_23"></a><a href="#FNanchor_23_23"><span class="label">[23]</span></a> <i>Die erste näher gestaltende Dollmetcherin</i>, lit., the -first interpreter which supplies forms more nearly cognate with itself.</p></div> - -<div class="footnote"> - -<p><a name="Footnote_24_24" id="Footnote_24_24"></a><a href="#FNanchor_24_24"><span class="label">[24]</span></a> It is valid (<i>geltend</i>) because it introduces there its -own spiritual nature.</p></div> - -<div class="footnote"> - -<p><a name="Footnote_25_25" id="Footnote_25_25"></a><a href="#FNanchor_25_25"><span class="label">[25]</span></a> The previous statement of Hegel must not be overlooked, -however, and it may be considerably amplified, that there is much in -romantic art which is related to symbolism and the sublime. Take the -case of the celebrated sculpture of Michael Angelo typifying Night, -Day, Dawn, and Twilight, or such modern pictures as those of Watts's -"The Minotaur" and "The Spirit of Christianity."</p></div> - -<div class="footnote"> - -<p><a name="Footnote_26_26" id="Footnote_26_26"></a><a href="#FNanchor_26_26"><span class="label">[26]</span></a> Or rather "between those aspects of its import and form -which are reciprocally homogeneous and those which are not."</p></div> - -<div class="footnote"> - -<p><a name="Footnote_27_27" id="Footnote_27_27"></a><a href="#FNanchor_27_27"><span class="label">[27]</span></a> This process of symbolic art.</p></div> - -<div class="footnote"> - -<p><a name="Footnote_28_28" id="Footnote_28_28"></a><a href="#FNanchor_28_28"><span class="label">[28]</span></a> <i>Hauptstufen.</i> The word signifies either the phase or -grade of a process of development, or to take the metaphor used by -Hegel above (<i>Stadien</i>) may perhaps be better translated by "stage," as -though indicating the successive stages of a journey.</p></div> - -<div class="footnote"> - -<p><a name="Footnote_29_29" id="Footnote_29_29"></a><a href="#FNanchor_29_29"><span class="label">[29]</span></a> I think <i>Völkern</i> rather than <i>Zeiten</i> must be here -understood, and the sense appears to be that the confusion indicated -refers to a mingling of forms appropriate to a nation in one historical -period with those that are more cognate with a people at any earlier -or it may be later period. But unquestionably this attempt to identify -a type as between different nations with historical periods that will -harmonize with Hegel's own classification is a difficult matter as we -may see by the fact that Egypt, the oldest example of all, represents -the third stage. On the other hand, if the confusion referred to is -applied to the particular development of any one people, the examples -given by Hegel do not bear on the difficulty they illustrate.</p></div> - -<div class="footnote"> - -<p><a name="Footnote_30_30" id="Footnote_30_30"></a><a href="#FNanchor_30_30"><span class="label">[30]</span></a> Or rather "the import of the Absolute."</p></div> - -<div class="footnote"> - -<p><a name="Footnote_31_31" id="Footnote_31_31"></a><a href="#FNanchor_31_31"><span class="label">[31]</span></a> <i>Substantiality</i>, called below <i>die Substanz</i>; the word -signifies the real essence of the Absolute.</p></div> - -<div class="footnote"> - -<p><a name="Footnote_32_32" id="Footnote_32_32"></a><a href="#FNanchor_32_32"><span class="label">[32]</span></a> The principal clause of this sentence has no end as -printed. The auxiliary must be omitted either before <i>in diesem -Dienste</i> or <i>eine positive.</i> I prefer the first alternative.</p></div> - -<div class="footnote"> - -<p><a name="Footnote_33_33" id="Footnote_33_33"></a><a href="#FNanchor_33_33"><span class="label">[33]</span></a> The relative here agrees, I think, with <i>die -Dienstbarkeit</i> rather than <i>die Kreatur</i> or <i>die Poesie.</i> Hegel says -"compatible with itself and its significance," we should rather say -"its sense of its own insignificance."</p></div> - -<div class="footnote"> - -<p><a name="Footnote_34_34" id="Footnote_34_34"></a><a href="#FNanchor_34_34"><span class="label">[34]</span></a> Hegel's words are <i>sondern in einem subjectiven Dritten</i>, -<i>welches in beiden Seiten nach seiner subjectiven Anschauung</i>, etc. -This "subjective third" is, as explained below, the way in which the -relation between the image and the absolute significance ceases to be -regarded as identical.</p></div> - -<div class="footnote"> - -<p><a name="Footnote_35_35" id="Footnote_35_35"></a><a href="#FNanchor_35_35"><span class="label">[35]</span></a> This sentence as it stands is ungrammatical; there is a -change in the construction as it proceeds.</p></div> - -<div class="footnote"> - -<p><a name="Footnote_36_36" id="Footnote_36_36"></a><a href="#FNanchor_36_36"><span class="label">[36]</span></a> The prosaic universality is the prose of its form -separated from content. It is prosaic because it is unrelated to the -vitality of the notion.</p> - -<hr class="chap" /> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_35" id="Page_35">[Pg 35]</a></span></p></div> - - - - -<h5>CHAPTER I</h5> - - -<h4>UNCONSCIOUS SYMBOLISM</h4> - - -<p>Now that we pass to the consideration of the several distinctions -of symbolical art in more detail, we have to make a beginning with -the identical beginning of art as it proceeds out of the notion of -art itself. This commencement, as we have seen, is the symbolical -form of art in its still immediate form wherein the appearance, -as purely image or likeness, is neither brought to consciousness -nor presupposed—<i>unconscious symbolism</i>, that is to say. Before, -however, we shall be in a position to consider this form in its -genuine symbolical character, it will be necessary to review several -presuppositions which the notion of symbolism itself determines in -order that we may utilize them for the basis upon which the symbol may -unfold itself for scientific apprehension.</p> - -<p>The point from which we make a start may be defined more closely as -follows:</p> - -<p>The fundamental root of the symbol is, regarding it from one aspect, -the immediate union of the universal and thereby spiritual significance -with the form which may at the same time be described as adequate and -inadequate, an inadequacy, however, which is as yet unperceived. This -association, however, must, on the other hand, receive a form from the -<i>imagination</i> and <i>art</i>, and must not <i>merely</i> be conceived as a Divine -reality exclusively immediate to sense. By this means the symbolical -originates in the first instance with the <i>severation</i> of a universal -import from the immediate <i>presence of Nature</i>, in whose existence the -Absolute is contemplated as actually present. These two aspects supply -us with the preliminary stages for the genuine forms of symbolic art.</p> - -<p>The <i>first</i> presupposition consequently—we may call it the<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_36" id="Page_36">[Pg 36]</a></span> coming -into being of the symbolical—is not that union which is the product -of art, but rather just that immediate unity of the Absolute and True -and its existence, which is discovered in the visible world apart from -art's mediation.</p> - -<h6>A. IMMEDIATE UNITY OF SIGNIFICANCE AND FORM</h6> - -<p>In this identity of the Divine immediately envisualized, a Divine, -which is brought home to consciousness as the union of its determinate -existence in Nature and humanity, Nature is neither taken simply for -that which it is in isolation by itself, nor is the Absolute severed -from it and posited in an independent self-subsistence. Consequently it -is wholly beside the point to speak of a distinction here between the -Inward and the External, the significance and the form, and this for -the reason that the Inward is not as yet released in its independence -as significance from its immediate reality in the object of sense. When -we apply here the expression import<a name="FNanchor_37_37" id="FNanchor_37_37"></a><a href="#Footnote_37_37" class="fnanchor">[37]</a>, such merely emphasizes our -<i>own</i> reflection upon it, which is due to the necessity for ourselves -personally to regard the form, which contains that which is spiritual -and inward under the mode of sense-perception, generally as something -external to us, through which we are desirous of penetrating into -the Inward, that is, its animating life and significance, in order -that we may understand it. For this reason we are under the necessity -from the very first, when dealing with such general impressions of -sense-perception, of making an essential demarcation between those -cases in which the peoples, who in the first instance experienced -them, themselves were clearly conscious of this Inward itself as such, -that is, as a spiritual significance, and those in which the use of -such expressions is only applicable to ourselves, who now and only -now recognize an import of this kind in the content of that external -expression of sense-envisagement.</p> - -<p>In this primary unity such as the latter cases involve, there is -no such distinction between soul and body, notion and reality, as -is implied in the former. That which we describe as corporeal and -sensuous, natural and human, is<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_37" id="Page_37">[Pg 37]</a></span> not merely an expression for a -significance which proceeds at the same time to a point of distinction -from it<a name="FNanchor_38_38" id="FNanchor_38_38"></a><a href="#Footnote_38_38" class="fnanchor">[38]</a>; but the phenomenon is itself conceived as the immediate -reality and presence of the Absolute, which does not in addition -possess some other mode of self-subsistent existence, but is confined -exclusively to the immediate presence of an object of sense, which -is God or the Divine. In the service of the Lama, for example, this -particular, actual human being is immediately known and adored as -God, just as in other natural religions the sun, mountains, rivers, -the moon, particular animals, such as the bull, ape, and so on, are -looked upon as immediately Divine existences and worshipped as sacred. -We may observe a similar directness, if under a mode of profounder -application, even now in many aspects of the Christian consciousness. -According to Catholic doctrine, for example, the consecrated bread -is the real body, and the wine the real blood of God, and Christ is -immediately present therein; nay, even according to the Lutheran faith, -both bread and wine are converted into such real body and blood by -virtue of the faith of the recipient. In this mystical union it is not -merely a symbolism which is expressed, a point of view which comes into -prominence as the result of it for the first time in later doctrines -of the reformed Church, where we find as a result the spiritual -significance is expressly severed from the sensuous object, and the -external medium is then accepted as merely pointing to an import which -is distinct from itself. In the same way the power of this Divine is -held to operate in the miracle-working images of the Virgin as a Divine -force that is immediately present within them, and not merely under -symbolical guise through the significant import of such pictures.</p> - -<p>We find, however, the most thorough and universal exemplification of -this absolute and immediate unity of sense-perception in the life and -religion of the ancient Zend-people, whose conceptions and institutions -are preserved for us in the Zend-Avesta.</p> - -<p>1. In other words the religion of Zoroaster beholds Light<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_38" id="Page_38">[Pg 38]</a></span> in the form -of its natural existence, the sun, stars, and fire in the luminous -activity and flames which proceed from them, actually as the Absolute, -without separating this Divine independently from that Light either as -its expression and image or the sensuous medium thereof. The Divine, -the significance, is not thus severed from its determinate existence -in the form of lights, however displayed. For even when light is -accepted here in the sense of Goodness and Justice, and through such -significance is extended to all that is rich in blessing, support, -and life, it is still not taken as the mere image of such things, but -Light is itself the Good. And the same view applies to the opposite of -light, namely, obscurity and darkness when identified with that which -is unclean, hurtful, evil, destructive, and deadly.</p> - -<p>This point of view may be more closely defined and considered as -follows:</p> - -<p>(<i>a</i>) In the first instance the Divine, as the essential purity -of Light<a name="FNanchor_39_39" id="FNanchor_39_39"></a><a href="#Footnote_39_39" class="fnanchor">[39]</a>, and the Darkness and Unclean are, it is true, -<i>personified</i> under the names of Ormuzd and Ahriman respectively. -This personification is, however, throughout entirely superficial. -Ormuzd is no essentially free individuality devoid of all relation to -external objects<a name="FNanchor_40_40" id="FNanchor_40_40"></a><a href="#Footnote_40_40" class="fnanchor">[40]</a> as was the God of the Jews, or truly spiritual and -personal as is the God of Christianity when conceived as truly personal -and self-conscious Spirit; rather Ormuzd, despite the fact that he is -described also as king, great spirit and judge, remains inseparable -from such external existence as Light and its illuminations. He is -exclusively this universal characteristic of all particular existences, -in which light and thereby the Divine and Pure are realized, without -any additional power to withdraw himself in a spiritual universality -and independence into his own substance from that which is thus -immediately presented. His consistence rests in the particular facts -of existence precisely in an analogous way to that of the genus in the -species. It is true that regarded as this universal he is superior to -all that is wholly particular,<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_39" id="Page_39">[Pg 39]</a></span> and is the first, most supreme, the -kings of kings glorious in his gold, the purest and so forth; but he -retains his existence none the less exclusively in all that is luminous -and pure as Ahriman in all that is obscure, evil, destructive, and -charged with disease.</p> - -<p>(<i>b</i>) As a result this mode of vision is at the same time extended to -the conception of an <i>empire</i> of light and darkness, and the strife -between these forces. In the empire of Ormuzd it is in the first place -the Amschaspands, as the seven principal lights of heaven, which -receive adoration as Divinity, inasmuch as they are the essential -particular existences of Light, and for this reason constitute as a -pure and spacious empeopled heaven, the existence of the Divine itself. -Every Amschaspand, to which Ormuzd belongs, has assigned to it days -of precedence, blessing, and beneficence. The Izeds and Ferners carry -the conception still further into specification, which it is probable -enough are personifications of Ormuzd himself, albeit they add to him -no further shape that we may envisage as human, so that neither the -spiritual nor the bodily mode of subjectivity, but simply the existence -as light, appearance, illumination, splendour, remains the essential -characteristic of the object envisaged.</p> - -<p>In the same way also the particular objects of Nature, which themselves -do not exist in external form as lights and luminous bodies, such -as animals, plants, and so forth, no less than the forms which -characterize the human world, whether we view it under its spiritual -or bodily presentment, in other words the particular activities and -conditions of it, the entire life of the state, the king with the seven -great men who support him, the division of classes, cities, the various -provinces with their governors, all that is warranted by experience -as typical of the best and purest for the protection of the rest—the -entire reality, in fact, of this life is regarded as an existence of -Ormuzd. For everything that carries within itself and promulgates -what has solidity, life, and substance is an existence of Light and -Purity, and consequently an existence of Ormuzd; every particular -truth, excellence, love, justness, every individual example of life, -beneficence, protection, spiritual power and enjoyment or benignity -is, according to Zoroaster, regarded as essentially<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_40" id="Page_40">[Pg 40]</a></span> Light and Divine. -The empire of Ormuzd is the Pure and Illuminating of visible reality; -and conformably to this there is no distinction between the phenomena -of Nature or Spirit, just as Light and Goodness, the spiritual and the -sensuous quality, are inseparably blended in the conception of Ormuzd -himself. The <i>splendour</i> of a creature is consequently for Zoroaster -the very substance of spirit, force, and life-exhalations of every -kind, in so far, that is, as they tend to actual conservation and to -the removal of everything positively evil and hurtful, for that which -is the Real and the Good, whether in beast, man, or vegetable life, is -Light, and it is according to the measure and mode of display of this -luminousness that the relative power or weakness of the splendour of -all objects is determined.</p> - -<p>An articulation and graduated division of similar character is found -in the empire of Ahriman, merely with the difference that what is -spiritually or naturally evil, and generally the destructive and -actively negative principle asserts itself in actual masterdom. But the -might of Ahriman must not be suffered to spread; the aim of the entire -world is consequently assumed to be that of annihilating the Empire of -Ahriman, in order that the life, presence, and dominion of Ormuzd may -prevail throughout creation.</p> - -<p>(<i>c</i>) To this exclusive object the entire life of humanity is -consecrate. The life-task of every man consists exclusively in a -purification of soul and body, and in the extension of this blessing -and this conflict with Ahriman throughout all the conditions and -activities of the life of man or Nature. The highest and most sacred -duty is consequently to glorify Ormuzd in his creation, and to love, -honour, and conform oneself to all that proceeds from his Light and is -essentially pure. Ormuzd is the beginning and end of all adoration. -Above all else the Parsee is moved to summon the life of Ormuzd in -thought and speech; he is the main object of his prayers. And in the -exaltation of him, from whom the entire world of the Pure has streamed -in its splendour, the devotee is in duty bound to accommodate his -adoration of particular objects according to the measure in which they -proclaim his majesty, worth, and perfection. So far as they are good -and ring sound, to that extent, the Parsee reasons with himself, is -Ormuzd alive within them; he loves them<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_41" id="Page_41">[Pg 41]</a></span> as the children of his purity, -yea, rejoices over them as in the beginning of his substance, forasmuch -as through him was everything brought forth in newness and purity. -And for the same reason is all prayer directed first and foremost to -the Amschaspands as the most intimate reflections of Ormuzd, as the -primates of supreme splendour who surround his throne and advance his -dominion. Such prayer to these heavenly spirits is immediately directed -to their qualities and activities, and in the case of stars at the -time of their uprising. The sun is invoked by day, and always with the -changes appropriate to his own motion through sunrise, noonday, or -sunset. From morning till noonday the devotion of the Parsee centres in -this that Ormuzd may exalt his splendour; at evening he prays that the -sun may through Ormuzd and the protecting care of every Tzed perfect -the course of his life. But principally we find honour paid to Mithras, -who, as the fruit-bringer to the Earth and the wilderness, pours forth -the fermenting sap over all Nature, and as mighty champion against all -the Devas of contention, war, confusion, and destruction, is the author -of peace.</p> - -<p>In addition to this the Parsee, in his generally single-toned songs -of praise, exalts his ideals, that is, the purest and most veritable -examples of human life, the Ferver conceived as pure human spirits, on -whatever portion of the Earth's surface they live or have lived. In -the chief place prayer is offered to the pure spirit of Zoroaster, and -after him to the leading lights of all classes, cities, and provinces; -and already in this religion, we find that the spirits of all mankind -are contemplated as united together with a sufficient bond in that they -are members in the living association of Light, which hereafter in -Gorotman shall receive a yet more perfect union.</p> - -<p>Finally, not even the animals, mountains, and vegetable world are -forgotten, but are appealed to as embodiments of Ormuzd; all that is -good and serviceable in them to mankind is extolled, and especially the -first and most excellent of its kind is adored as the present existence -of Deity. And over and above this worship of Ormuzd and of every form -of selected excellence among the pure and beneficent objects of his -creation the Zend-Avesta is insistent upon the <i>practice</i><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_42" id="Page_42">[Pg 42]</a></span> of goodness -and the purity of thought, word, and deed. The Parsee is to be in the -entire display of his external and inward man as Light, as Ormuzd, the -Amschaspands, and the Izeds, as Zoroaster and all good men live and do. -Such live and have lived in the Light, and all their deeds are Light; -therefore shall every man make them an example to his eyes and follow -after the same. The more purity of light and goodness man expresses -in his life and accomplishment, the nearer he stands to those spirits -of heaven. As the Izeds throw the blessing of their beneficence over -everything, are a source of life and fruitfulness and friendship, so, -too, he must seek to purify Nature, to ennoble her, and to reach abroad -the light of life and the joy of plenteousness. In accordance therewith -he shall feed the hungry, tend the sick, offer the drink of consolation -to the thirsty, give roof and shelter to the wanderer, provide pure -seed for the Earth, delve clean channels of water, plant the waste with -trees, nourish to the best of his power their growth, care for the -sustenance and fructification of things alive, keep pure the lambency -of fire, remove from sight the dead and unclean beast, establish -marriages, and in the doing thereof the holy Sapandomad, the Ized of -the Earth, herself rejoices, averting the harm which the Devas and the -Darvands are busy to prepare.</p> - -<p>2. If we ask ourselves once more, after this delineation in outline -of the fundamental conceptions of this system, what is the symbolical -character of the same there can be but one reply, namely, that there is -no trace here of anything we have previously described as symbolical. -On the one side, no doubt, we have light in its obvious natural form, -and on the other it possesses the further significance of all that -is rich in goodness, blessing, and permanence. It is, therefore, -possible to contend that the actual existence of light is merely an -image cognate with this universal significance, which interpenetrates -every part of the world of Nature and mankind. If we apply such an -interpretation to the conception of Parsees themselves we shall find -such a separation of existence and its import to be false; for these -the Light as Light is actually the Good, and is so apprehended that -it is in the form of light present and active in everything that is -good, vital, and positive. The universal<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_43" id="Page_43">[Pg 43]</a></span> and Divine is carried no -doubt through the distinctions of the world of particular objects, -but in this its differentiated and particularized existence, the -substantial and inseparable unity of import and form remains constant, -and the distinctions that are involved in this unity do not affect the -difference of significance <i>quâ</i> significance, and its manifestation, -but only the distinguishing features of particular objects, such as -stars, organic life, human opinions and actions, in which the Divine as -Light or Darkness is immediately open to sense.</p> - -<p>In the further embrace of such conceptions there are no doubt points -of connection with incipient symbolism, but we get out of them no real -type of that mode of viewing things in its completeness; they will only -pass muster as isolated traits in its direction. To such effect Ormuzd -is on one occasion made to say of his beloved one Dschemschid: "The -holy Ferver of Dschemschid, the son of Vivengham, was great before me. -His hand received from me a dagger, whose sharpness was gold, and whose -shaft was gold. Therewith Dschemschid marked out three hundred portions -of the Earth. He split up the Earth-realm with his gold-plate, yea, -with his dagger and spake: 'Let Sapandomad rejoice.' He spake the holy -word with prayer to the tame cattle and the wild and unto men. So his -passing through was happiness and blessing for these lands and animals -of the home and the field, and men ran together into great dwellings." -Here we find in the dagger, and the cleaving of the Earth-soil an image -which may be interpreted as significant of agriculture. Agriculture -is still no essentially spiritual activity, and just as little is it -a purely natural one; it is rather a universal occupation of mankind, -which results from reflective thought and experience, and which has -point of association with all the relations of life. It is no doubt -never expressly stated in this conception of the passing of Dschemschid -that this splitting of the Earth with the dagger indicates agriculture; -nor is there a single word added of any increase of the fruits of the -field by virtue of this division; for the reason, however, that in -this particular act more appears to be included than the mere turning -over and loosening of the soil, we are led to look for a further -significance beneath it. The same observations apply to<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_44" id="Page_44">[Pg 44]</a></span> more recent -conceptions, such as we find exemplified in the later elaboration of -the worship of Mithras, where Mithras is represented as a youth who -in the dusk of a grotto raises on high the bull's head and plunges -a dagger in his neck, whereon a serpent licks up the blood, and a -scorpion gnaws his genitals. This symbolical account has received -an astronomical and other interpretations. We may, however, find in -it a still more universal and profounder meaning, and take the bull -generally to personify the principle of Nature, over which man, as -essentially spirit, secures the victory, and this though astronomical -associations may also be implied in it. That, however, such a -revolution as the victory of Spirit over Nature is contained in it is -also suggested by the name of Mithras, or mediator, more especially -if we refer it to a later period when such uplifting over Nature was -already a necessity present to the national consciousness. Symbols such -as the above, however, as already observed, only incidentally come to -the fore in the conceptions of the ancient Parsees, and do not in any -way constitute a principle for their fundamental type of thought.</p> - -<p>Still less can we describe the cultus, which the Zend-Avesta -inculcates, as one of symbolical tendency. We find no trace here, -for example, of symbolical dances in celebration or imitation of the -interlaced revolutions of the stars; as little any other forms of -activity which may pass as the suggestive counterfeit of universal -conceptions; rather all actions which are prescribed to the Parsee as -imperative in a religious sense are matters directly concerned with the -actual enlargement of his purity, either of soul or body, and appear as -directed with one intent and one object of realization, namely, that of -increasing the actual dominion of Ormuzd over men and the objects of -Nature, an object consequently which is not merely symbolized in such -activity, but entirely carried out.</p> - -<p>3. For the reason, then, that a genuine symbolic type fails absolutely -when applied to this religious system, it is equally destitute of a -true <i>artistic</i> character. No doubt we may generally describe its mode -of conception as <i>poetical</i> for the particular facts of Nature are -just as little as the particular sentiments, circumstances, acts, and -affairs of men<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_45" id="Page_45">[Pg 45]</a></span> treated in their immediate and consequently haphazard -and prosaic relation which is void of all significance, and are rather -contemplated essentially in the Absolute as very Light; or to put it -the other way, the universal essence of the concrete reality of Nature -and mankind is not conceived in the universality which is without -existence or form, but this universal and that particular is envisaged -and expressed in immediate union. Such a mode of viewing existence -may possibly claim a certain beauty, breadth, and largeness of its -own, and in contrast to gross and senseless idols Light is no doubt -as the essentially pure and universal element, an adequate image of -Goodness and Truth. But for all that we find that poetry here fails -to pass beyond a general conception; it never reaches either art or -the works of art. For the Good and the Divine are neither essentially -defined, nor is the consistency and form of this content a creation of -mind (Spirit); but rather, as we have already found, the thing which -is immediately present to sense, namely, the actual sun, stars, fire, -organic nature, throughout its vegetation, animal and human life, is -conceived as the appropriate form of the Absolute in this its existent -and <i>immediate</i> shape. The sensuous representation is not, as Art -requires, the plastic product of mind, shaped and discovered by the -same, but immediately identified with and expressed by the external -existent shape as its appropriate counterfeit. It is quite true, in -another aspect, the particular thing is, by means of the imagination, -also fixed in an independent relation to its reality, as, for instance, -in the Izeds and Fervers, that is, in the genii of particular men; the -poetic invention, however, discovered in this incipient severation -is of the weakest kind for the reason that the distinction remains -entirely of a formal character, so that the genius, Ized or Ferver, -neither includes nor is able to include any real characteristic -content of its own, but, instead of this, either repeats one identical -content or possesses nothing more than the purely empty form of the -subjectivity, which the existing individual already possesses. The -product of the imagination here is consequently neither an other and -profounder significance nor the self-subsistent form of an essentially -richer individuality. And when we moreover find particular objects -envisaged on the wider<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_46" id="Page_46">[Pg 46]</a></span> plane of general conceptions and generic types, -to which, as appropriate to such types, the imagination vouchsafes a -real existence, even here also this uplifting of multiplicity into the -sphere of an all-comprehending and essential unity, regarded as the -basic core and substance of the individuals that constitute the same -species and genus, can only in a yet more indefinite sense be accepted -as an activity of the imagination, no real exemplification of either -poetry or art. So we have, for instance, in the holy fire of Behram the -essence of fire; and in the same way there is a water that underlies -all existent water. So, too, Horn is esteemed as the first, purest, -and most stalwart among trees, the primordial tree from which the -life-sap full of immortality flows; and among all mountains Albordsch, -the sacred mountain, is set before us as the primaeval root of the -Earth, erect in the splendour of the Light, from which the good deeds -of all men proceed, who have possessed the knowledge of Light, and -on whom the sun, moon, and stars repose. In general, however, we may -affirm that the universal is visibly known in immediate union with the -actual objects of sense, and it is merely now and again that universal -conceptions are embodied in the particular image.</p> - -<p>In yet more prosaic fashion does the cultus of this religion make -as its principal object the dominion of Ormuzd a reality which -interpenetrates all things, merely requiring this one essential -condition to the adequacy of every object, namely, its purity, and -without attempting therewith to construct from such any existent -form of art that is based upon immediate life, as, for example, the -warriors and wrestlers of Greece were so ready to do in their artistic -elaboration of physical perfection.</p> - -<p>From whatever side, then, or whatever may be the point of view from -which we regard this first unity of spiritual universality and sensuous -reality, we only get from it the <i>basis</i> of symbolical art; it still -fails to possess a real symbolism of its own, and is unable to produce -works of art. In order that we may attain this object, which is the -next in view, we must pass away from the union we have just considered, -and examine modes of conception where the <i>difference</i> and <i>conflict</i> -between significance and form is more really emphasized.</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_47" id="Page_47">[Pg 47]</a></span></p> - - - -<h6>B. FANTASTIC SYMBOLISM</h6> - - -<p>Quitting now the sphere of thought in which the identity of the -Absolute and its externally envisaged existence is immediately -cognized, we have, as an essential determination to start from, the -severation of these two aspects hitherto united, a <i>cleavage</i> which -stimulates the effort to restore once more the visible breach by means -of an elaborate fusing together of the whole thus divided by a rich -use of the images of phantasy. With this attempt the essential need -for art is felt for the first time. No sooner has the imagination -succeeded in holding fast its envisaged content, which is no longer -grasped in immediate union with the objects of sense, in isolated -separation from that existence, than for the first time spirit is -confronted with the task of reclothing with the material of phantasy -for sensuous perception, that is, under the renewed mode of a spiritual -product, these general conceptions and of creating through this -activity the shapes of art. And for the reason that in the stage of -our process where we now find ourselves, this task is capable of only -a symbolic solution, we may easily fall under the impression that -we stand already in the sphere of genuine symbolism. This, however, -is not the case. What immediately faces us here are the forms of a -fermenting phantasy<a name="FNanchor_41_41" id="FNanchor_41_41"></a><a href="#Footnote_41_41" class="fnanchor">[41]</a>, which in the restlessness of its fantastic -dreams merely indicates the path which conducts us to the real centre -of symbolical art. In the first appearance of the distinguishing -relation between significance and the mode of its presentation, both -the severation and the association are still grasped in a confused -manner. This confusion is necessitated by the fact that neither of -the parted aspects of difference have as yet attained a totality, -capable of emphasizing the precise point in the process, which will -serve as the fundamental determination of the opposed side in it, -and by means of which for the first,time a really adequate union and -reconciliation is rendered possible. Spirit (mind), to illustrate our -difficulty<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_48" id="Page_48">[Pg 48]</a></span> further, determines by virtue of its own totality the -side of the external phenomenon out of its own essential substance -quite as really as it does its own spiritual content for the obvious -reason that the essentially complete and independent phenomenon only -receives its adequate form as the external existence of that which is -spiritual. In the case, however, of this primary severation of the -significances apprehended by mind, and the existent world of phenomena -such aspects of significance are not those of concrete spiritual life, -but abstractions, and this expression also is entirely destitute -of spiritual intension, and is consequently, in an abstract sense, -purely external and sensuous. This twofold impulse in the direction of -disunion and union is for the same reason an unsteady gait<a name="FNanchor_42_42" id="FNanchor_42_42"></a><a href="#Footnote_42_42" class="fnanchor">[42]</a>, which -ranges from the objects of sense in undefined and unmeasured waste -immediately to the aspects of universal import, and is only able to -discover for the inward content of consciousness the absolutely opposed -form of sensuous shapes. And it is this very contradiction which is -set forth as a means of really uniting elements which contradict each -other. The result is that instead of so doing it is first driven from -one side of the opposition into the other, and then again is hurled in -its ceaselessly alternating dance into the former extreme, while it -believes that in this rocking to and fro of its strain it has found -the means to lull itself to repose. Instead of getting, therefore, a -true satisfaction we have the <i>contradiction</i> merely affirmed as its -genuine resolution, and in addition the union most incomplete of all -is set forth as that which art really requires. We must not therefore -expect to find in such a field of confusion worse confounded the true -forms of beauty. In this restless leap from one opposed extreme to the -other all that we find from one point of view in the sensuous material -that is absorbed, regarding the same in its singularity no less than as -it constitutes its elementary appearance to sense, is that the breadth -and potency of every import of universality is associated therewith -in what must consequently be a wholly inadequate way. From another -aspect that which is most universal, as soon as the process has passed -from the same, is shamelessly plunged under the reverse treatment -into the very heart of the<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_49" id="Page_49">[Pg 49]</a></span> sensuous present; and if any feeling of -the incompatibility of such an effort is consciously perceived, the -imagination here is only capable of rendering assistance by means of -distortions which carry the particular shapes over and beyond their own -secure boundaries, adding to their extension, making them ever more -indefinite, by an imaginative leap which mounts to the immeasurable, -breaks up every bond of union, and in its very strain after -reconciliation reveals each opposing factor in its most unmitigated -hostility<a name="FNanchor_43_43" id="FNanchor_43_43"></a><a href="#Footnote_43_43" class="fnanchor">[43]</a>.</p> - -<p>These earliest and still most uncontrolled attempts of imagination and -art we meet most signally among the ancient races of India, the main -defect of whose productions, when viewed relatively to their particular -position at this stage of our classification, consists in this, that -they are neither able to seize the profounder aspects of significance -in independent clarity, nor grasp the reality of sense-perception in -its characteristic form and meaning. The Hindoo race has consequently -proved itself unable to comprehend either persons or events as parts -of continuous history, because to any historical treatment a certain -soberness is essential of accepting and understanding facts in their -true and independent form, and subject to their mediating links, -grounds, causes, and objects, being empirically ascertained. The -natural impulse to refer all and everything back to the Divine is -hostile to this prosaic reasonableness, no less than its tendency to -prefigure for itself in the most ordinary or most sensuous of objects -a presence and reality of godhead created by its own imagination. -These peoples consequently, through their confused intermingling of -the Finite and the Absolute, in which the logical order and permanence -of the prosaic facts of ordinary consciousness are disregarded -altogether, despite all the profusion and extraordinary boldness of -their conceptions, fall into a levity of fantastic mirage which is -quite as remarkable, a flightiness which dances from the most spiritual -and profoundest matters to the meanest trifle of present experience, in -order that it<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_50" id="Page_50">[Pg 50]</a></span> may interchange and confuse immediately the one extreme -with the other.</p> - -<p>If we concentrate our attention more closely upon the more conspicuous -features of this continuous bout of intoxication, this craze and -condition of craze, what we are concerned with is not to trace -religious conceptions as such, but merely to emphasize the points of -prominence which relate such modes of conception with art. These may be -indicated as follows:</p> - -<p>1. One extreme of the consciousness of the Hindoo is the consciousness -of the Absolute, here regarded as the essentially and absolutely -Universal, undifferentiated and consequently wholly indefinite. This -supreme of abstractions, inasmuch as it is neither in possession of -a particular content, nor is conceived under the mode of concrete -personality, is, from whatever side you may look at it, no object at -all that the imagination acting through the senses can reclothe for -art. Brahman<a name="FNanchor_44_44" id="FNanchor_44_44"></a><a href="#Footnote_44_44" class="fnanchor">[44]</a>, taken in a general sense as this supreme Godhead, is -absolutely removed from the sensuous and sense-perception, or rather is -not even an object for Thought. For self-consciousness is inseparable -from thought, which posits itself as an object of Thought, in order -that it may thus come to self-knowledge. Every act of intelligence -is an identification of the ego and object, a reconciliation of -that which is severed outside from this relation of recognition; -what I do not understand remains as something strange and foreign -to myself. The mode of union, under the Hindoo conception, of human -personality with Brahman is nothing more nor less than a continually -ascending process of exhaustion<a name="FNanchor_45_45" id="FNanchor_45_45"></a><a href="#Footnote_45_45" class="fnanchor">[45]</a> in the direction of this supreme -of abstractions, in which not merely the entire concrete content, but -also self-consciousness itself, must be eliminated before the final -consummation is realized. Or, to put the same thing another way, the -Hindoo recognizes no reconciliation and identity with Brahman in -the sense that the spirit of humanity becomes <i>conscious</i> of this -union. The unity rather consists in this, that both consciousness<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_51" id="Page_51">[Pg 51]</a></span> -and self-consciousness, and with them the entire content of the -objective world and personality totally disappears. This emptying -and annihilation to the point of absolute vacuity is treated as the -supreme condition under which man is capable of identity with highest -Divinity, that is Brahman. An abstraction of this sort, one of the -barest it is possible to imagine, whether we consider it from the -point of view of the Absolute, as Brahman, or from the human aspect -of a purely theoretically conceived cultus that consists in man's -self-evaporation<a name="FNanchor_46_46" id="FNanchor_46_46"></a><a href="#Footnote_46_46" class="fnanchor">[46]</a> and self-annihilation, is in itself no object -either for the imagination or art; all the latter can do is to profit -by such opportunity as various imaginary representations of what -happens by the way to this goal may offer for their exercise.</p> - -<p>2. Conversely the Hindoo view of existence launches itself with -just the same immediacy over this very abstraction from all sense -into the wildest flood of it. Inasmuch, however, as the immediate -and consequently unbroken identity of both sides is in this view -cancelled, and instead of this the element of <i>difference</i> within -this identity has become the basic principle of the type itself, this -very contradiction plunges us with no mediating connections from the -Finite into the Divine, and again from this latter into what is most -transitory of all; and we live and move among <i>simulacra</i>, which rise -up entirely as the growth of this alternating process, a kind of -witches' world, where the definition of every shape eludes our grasp as -we endeavour to seize it, is converted all at once into its opposite, -or straddles away into mere inflated enormities.</p> - -<p>The general modes under which Hindoo art manifests itself may be -summarized under the three following points of view:</p> - -<p>(<i>a</i>) In the first place we find the full hugeness of the content of -the Absolute is imposed by the imagination upon the <i>sensuous</i> in its -aspect of singularity in such a way that this particular thing is -itself, in its own form and station, taken completely to represent -such a content and to exist as such for the imaginative sense. In the -Râmâyana, for example, the friend of Râma, namely, the prince of apes<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_52" id="Page_52">[Pg 52]</a></span> -Hanuman, is a principal personage, and he accomplishes the bravest -of exploits. And generally we may observe that among the Hindoos the -ape is revered as Divine, and we find, in fact, an entire city of -apes. In the ape, as this point of singularity, the infinite content -of the Absolute is envisaged and adored. It is just the same with -the cow, Sabalâ, which in the Râmâyana during the episodic treatment -of the expiations of Visvamitra, appears clothed with immeasurable -power. If we take a glance on higher planes we find entire families -in India—even though the individual here be merely a vacant and -monotonously vegetating life-unit—in whom the Absolute itself, as -this concrete reality, is adored in its immediate life and presence as -God. This same coincidence is found in Lamaism. Here, too, a single -individual receives the highest worship due to the present God. In -India, however, this honour is not exclusively paid to one man. Every -Brahmin proves at once his claim from the day of his birth in his own -caste to be ranked as Brahman, and possesses that second birth of the -Spirit which identifies his humanity with God, in the way of Nature -through his actual bodily birth, so that the crown of the most Divine -itself is immediately referred back upon the entirely commonplace -fact of physical existence. For although the Brahmin is under the -most sacred obligation to read the Vedâs, and attain by this means an -insight into the secrets of Deity, this duty can be actually carried -out in the most perfunctory way without detracting in the least from -the Brahmin's own divinity. In a similar manner it is one of the modes -most common to the representations of Hindooism to have the primordial -God set forth as the procreator or begetter, as we find Eros is in the -case of Greek mythology. This procreation as Divine activity is further -worked into all kinds of representations in a wholly material way, -and the private parts, both male and female, are treated as sacred in -the highest sense. And in a reverse way, and to no less extent, the -Divine, when it passes over in its independent Divinity to the plane -of existing reality, is suffered in a wholly trivial manner to get -mixed up with everyday details. We may take an example of this from -the commencement of the Râmâyana, where Brahmâ has come on a visit to -Vâlmîkis,<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_53" id="Page_53">[Pg 53]</a></span> the mythical bard of the Râmâyana. Vâlmîkis receives him -entirely in the common Hindoo fashion, pays him a compliment or two, -places a stool before him, and supplies him with water and fruits. -Brahmâ sits down just like anybody else and constrains his host to do -likewise: and there they sit on and sit on until at last Brahmâ orders -Vâlmîkis to compose the poem of the Râmâyana.</p> - -<p>Modes of conception such as these are still not symbolic in the -strict sense; for although we find that here, as the symbol requires, -forms are taken from the material of sense and diverted to the use -of conceptions of more universal import, we still find the further -condition of this requirement wanting, namely, that the particular -existences must not actually exist for sense-perception as this -absolute significance, but merely <i>suggest</i> the same. For the Hindoo -imagination the ape, the cow, and the particular Brahmin are not merely -a cognate symbol of the Divine, but are contemplated and represented as -the Godhead itself, as existences adequate to that Godhead.</p> - -<p>It is the contradiction inherent in this immediacy which is the -motive force of another feature in the conceptions of Hindoo art. For -while, on the one hand, that which is absolutely severed from sense, -the spiritual significance out and out, is conceived as the actually -Divine, yet, on the other, the particular facts of concrete reality -are immediately envisaged by the imagination, even in their sensuous -existence, as Divine manifestations. They are no doubt partly only -taken to represent particular aspects of the Absolute; but even so -the particular thing in its immediacy is still incompatible with the -universality, which it is, as adequate to the same, introduced to -express; and it appears in all the more glaring contradiction to it -for the reason that the significance is here already conceived in its -universality, yet, despite of this, an express relation of identity -is immediately set up by the imagination between it and the most -particular of material facts.</p> - -<p>(<i>b</i>) The most obvious way in which Hindoo art endeavours to mitigate -this disunion is, as we have already suggested, by the <i>measureless</i> -extension of its images. Particular shapes are drawn out into colossal -and grotesque proportions in order that they may, as forms of sense, -attain<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_54" id="Page_54">[Pg 54]</a></span> to universality. The particular form of sense, which is taken -to express not itself and its own characteristic meaning as a fact of -external existence, but a universal significance which lies outside -it, fails to satisfy the imagination until it has been torn out itself -into vastness which knows neither measure nor limit. This is the cause -of all that extravagant exaggeration of size, not merely in the case -of spatial dimension, but also of measurelessness of time-durations, -or the reduplication of particular determinations, as in figures with -many heads, arms, and so on, by means of which this art strains to -compass the breadth and universality of the significance it assumes. -The egg, for example, contains the bird within it. This particular fact -is enlarged to the measureless conception of a world-egg secreting the -universal life of all creation, and in which Brahmâ, the procreating -God, accomplishes without effort the year of creation, until by virtue -of his thought alone the the two halves of the egg fall asunder. And, -in addition to natural objects, human individuals and events are -exalted that they may express the significance of truly Divine action -in such a way that we can neither hold fast the Divine or the human -in their independence, but both seem to run in a continual confusion -backwards and forwards into one another. As a striking illustration -of such a mode of conception, we have the incarnations of certain -Hindoo gods, principally Vishnu, the conserver of life, whose exploits -figure largely in the great epic poems. Râmas is, for instance, himself -the seventh incarnation of Vishnu (Râmatshandra). From a review of -particular demands, actions, circumstances, modes of appearance, and -traits of demeanour, we are led to infer from these poems that this -content is in great measure borrowed from actual events, that is from -the exploits of ancient kings who exercised a powerful influence in -creating new conditions of law and order; we find ourselves surrounded -by a thoroughly human atmosphere and on the firm ground of reality. But -then again, in a converse direction, the entire scene expands, reaches -out into the nebulous, playing over and beyond it with universal -conceptions, so that we lose the vantage ground we had gained and are -robbed of all our bearings. We are treated in just the same way in the -Sakuntala. At first<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_55" id="Page_55">[Pg 55]</a></span> we have set before us the most gentle and odorous -realm of Love, in which everything goes on its way in an entirely human -fashion; and then we are all at once snatched from the wealth of this -genuine world, and transported into the clouds of the heaven of Indra, -where everything suffers change, and our formerly circumscribed sphere -is inflated to the measure of the universal import of Nature's life in -its relation to the Brahmin and the power of Nature's gods, which is -vouchsafed to man in return for his severe self-mortifications.</p> - -<p>Such modes of representation are also not to be termed in a strict -sense symbolical. That is to say the true symbol suffers the -determinate shape, which it applies, to remain under that original -definition, because its purpose is not to envisage therein the -immediate existent of the significance in its universality, but to -point to that import merely <i>through</i> the qualities of the object -which are cognate to it. Hindoo art, however, although it severs -universality from the singular existing fact, still adds the further -requirement that both sides shall be immediately united through the -imagination, and is consequently forced to divest determinate existence -of its specific limitations, and, albeit in a material fashion, to -enlarge in the direction of indefiniteness and generally to change and -reconstitute. In this melting down of all clear definition, and in the -confusion which results from it, so that that form is always set down -as highest for everything, whether phenomena, events, or actions, which -in the mode of their figuration can neither for themselves assert nor -intrinsically possess and express any control over such content, we may -rather seek for features analogous to the type of the <i>sublime</i> than -see any illustration of real symbolism. For in the Sublime, as we shall -see for ourselves further on, the finite phenomenon only expresses the -Absolute, which it would previsage for conscious sense to the extent -that in so doing it escapes from the world of appearance, which fails -to comprehend its content. This is just its treatment of eternity. -Its idea of it is sublime when it has to be expressed in terms of -time-duration, precisely through the emphasis it lays on the fact that -no number, however great, is sufficient. In this strain runs the text: -"A thousand years in Thy sight are even as a day." Hindoo art contains -much of the same or similar<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_56" id="Page_56">[Pg 56]</a></span> nature. It strikes the opening notes of -"the Sublime" symphony. The main difference, however, between it and -the true Sublimity consists in this, that the Hindoo imagination does -not in the wild exuberance of its images bring about the essential -nothingness of the phenomena which it makes use of, but rather through -just this very measurelessness and unlimited range of its visions -believes that it has annihilated and made to vanish all difference -and opposition between the Absolute and its mode of configuration. In -this extreme type of exaggeration, then, there is ultimately little of -real kinship with either true symbolism or Sublimity: it is equally -remote from the true sphere of beauty. It offers us no doubt, more -particularly in its more sober delineation of that which is exclusively -human, much that is endearing and benign, many gracious pictures and -tender emotions, the most splendid and seductive descriptions of -Nature, the most childlike traits of Love and naïve innocence, and -withal much too that is magnanimous and noble; but, none the less, if -we review it generally according to the fundamental import of all it -expresses, we shall find that the spiritual is throughout rooted in -sense, the meanest objects are placed on the same plane as the highest, -true definition is wrecked, the Sublime is lowered to the conception of -mere immeasurability, and that which is the original material of mythos -for the most part vanishes before our eyes in the fantastic dreams of -a restless and inquisitive imaginative power, and modes of shaping the -same devoid of all intelligent purpose.</p> - -<p>(<i>c</i>) In conclusion, the purest form of representation which we -meet with at this stage of imaginative conception is that of -<i>personification</i>, as it generally applies to the <i>human figure.</i> -For the reason, however, that the significance on this plane is -not as yet grasped as the free subjectivity of Spirit, but rather -either under a determination of abstract universality or as a mode -of natural existence, one that contains, for example, the life of -rivers, mountains, stars, or sun, for this reason it is only employed -as means of expression for this kind of content under a mode which -really detracts from the full worth of the human form. For the human -body, if we view it in its true definition, no less than the form of -human activities and events, expresses simply concrete Spirit<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_57" id="Page_57">[Pg 57]</a></span> and a -spiritual content, which is self-contained and subsistent in this its -reality, and possesses therewith no mere symbol or external sign.</p> - -<p>From one point of view consequently this personification, albeit the -significance, which it is invoked to represent, is taken to belong -to the spiritual no less than the natural, yet, on account of the -abstractness which clings to this form of significance, is on this -stage of thought still of a superficial nature, and needs yet many -other modes of representation to be rendered clear to the closer -inspection, forms with which it is here confusedly mingled and -thereby itself made obscure. And, moreover, taking it under another -aspect, it is not the subjectivity here and its form which supplies -the characterization, but rather its <i>expressions</i>, actions, and so -forth; for it is in deed and action that the more defined line of -severation first asserts itself, which can be brought into relation -with the specific content of the universal significances. In that case, -however, we are again face to face with the defect that it is not the -conscious subject, but merely its <i>means of expression</i>, which supply -the signification, no less than the confusion of thought, that events -and deeds, instead of constituting the reality and the existence of -the subject as determinately self-realized, preserve its content and -significance elsewhere. A series of such actions is able therefore -very possibly to carry with it a certain result and consequence, which -is derived from the content which such a series subserves as its -expression. This consequent result is, however, to an extent equally -great, liable again to be interrupted and in part suspended by that -which is central in the personification and the man<a name="FNanchor_47_47" id="FNanchor_47_47"></a><a href="#Footnote_47_47" class="fnanchor">[47]</a>, because -subjective activity is also a stimulus to capricious action and its -manifestation, so that both that which is significant and that which is -destitute of this quality keep up their varied and irregular interplay -just in so far as the imagination<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_58" id="Page_58">[Pg 58]</a></span> is unable to unite their significant -characteristics and the forms which are appropriate to them in one -substantial and secure mode of association. And, moreover, if it is the -purely natural aspect of such facts which is exclusively accepted as -the unified content, in that case the material must inevitably prove -itself inadequate to support the human form, just as this, being only -fully adapted as a means of expressing Spirit, is on its side incapable -of representing what is wholly natural. In all these respects such a -mode of personification as the one we are examining fails to express -a true mode; for the truth of art requires, as the truth universally -requires, that there should be a complete concordance between the -inward and the outward, that is, the notion and its reality. Greek -mythology, for example, personified the Pontine sea; Scamander -possesses its river gods, nymphs, dryads, and so forth. In other words -it builds up Nature in the most various forms as the content of its -human divinities. It does not, however, suffer its personification -to remain purely formal and superficial, but creates thereby real -individuals, in whom the purely natural significance fades into the -background, and the human element, on the contrary, which has taken up -and absorbed such material out of Nature, becomes the prominent factor. -Hindoo art, on the other hand, is unable to advance beyond a grotesque -intermingling of these two sides of Nature and humanity, so that -neither is treated according to its rightful claim, and both are merely -given the forms which are appropriate to the other.</p> - -<p>Speaking in a general way we cannot consider even these -personifications to be as yet strictly symbolical, for the reason that -owing to their formal superficiality they do not stand in any essential -relation to or mode of association more truly intimate with the more -determinate form which they are presumed to express. At the same time -we may note here, with respect to other particular modifications and -attributes, with which such personifications appear to be intermingled, -and which are taken to express the more defined qualities generally -attached to Divinities, an impulse in the direction of symbolic -representation, for which the personification then stands merely as the -universal type of widest connotation.</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_59" id="Page_59">[Pg 59]</a></span></p> - -<p>If we turn now to the more important examples of the imaginative sense -on the plane we are now considering, we have first to draw attention -to Trimûrtis, the triformed Godhead. This Deity includes in the first -place <i>Brahmâ</i>, the activity which brings forth and procreates, the -creator of the world, Lord of all the gods and much more beside. On -the one hand he is to be kept distinct from Brahman (as Neuter), that -is from the ultimate Being, and is the first-born of such. In another -aspect, however, he again seems to fall into union with this abstract -Godhead, as generally happens with Hindoo thought where the lines of -difference are rarely held secure, and part are allowed to vanish and -the rest simply to get confused with each other. The form with which -he is most closely identified has much that is symbolical about it; -he is formed with four heads and four hands, and with the latter are -his sceptre and ring<a name="FNanchor_48_48" id="FNanchor_48_48"></a><a href="#Footnote_48_48" class="fnanchor">[48]</a>. He is of a red colour, an obvious suggestion -of sunlight, since these Divinities invariably carry qualities which -are of universal significance in Nature and which are thus personified -in them. The <i>second</i> Deity of this triune Trimûrtis, is Vishnu, the -preserving Godhead, the <i>third</i> Sivas, the destructive Power. The -symbols employed to represent these gods are countless. For by reason -of the universality of the significances they express they comprehend -an infinite number of varied activities. In part these are related to -particular phenomena of Nature, mainly the elementary, such as, for -example, the quality of "fiery,"<a name="FNanchor_49_49" id="FNanchor_49_49"></a><a href="#Footnote_49_49" class="fnanchor">[49]</a> which is an attribute of Vishnu, -and frequently we have set before us shapes of the most antagonistic -description.</p> - -<p>In the conception of this triform god we have the fact at once brought -home to us in the clearest way that the form of Spirit is not yet able -to assert itself in its Truth if for no other reason than this, that -here it is not the spiritual which constitutes the truly permeating -significance. That is to say, this trinity of gods would only be -Spirit if the third god were an essentially concrete unity, a unity -which returned upon itself from the differentiation and reduplication -of its<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_60" id="Page_60">[Pg 60]</a></span> substance. For God, according to the true conception of -Godhead, is Spirit as this active and absolute self-differentiation -and Unity, a conception which is generally what constitutes the notion -of Spirit. In this Trimûrtis, however, the triune God is not by any -means such a concrete totality, but merely a passage from this to that, -a metamorphosis, a procreator, a destroyer, and so forth. We must -be accordingly very careful not to imagine that we have discovered -the highest Truth in these most primordial gropings of man's reason, -and in this one note of concord which, no doubt, as mere rhythmic -expression<a name="FNanchor_50_50" id="FNanchor_50_50"></a><a href="#Footnote_50_50" class="fnanchor">[50]</a>, contains the triune form of Deity, that is, the -fundamental conception of Christian theology, believe that we already -have before us a recognition of the Christian doctrine of the Trinity.</p> - -<p>Starting from such fundamental conceptions as those of Brahman and -Trimûrtis, Hindoo imagination expatiates still further without let in -a countless number of the most varied formed Divinities. For those -primary significances of universal application which are apprehended -as essential Deity are of such a kind that they may be rediscovered -in an infinite number of phenomena, which are again personified and -symbolized as gods, and each and all combine in throwing the greatest -obstacles in the way of any intelligible system by reason of the -indefinite character and confusing volubility<a name="FNanchor_51_51" id="FNanchor_51_51"></a><a href="#Footnote_51_51" class="fnanchor">[51]</a> of this type of -imagination, which fails utterly to grasp the real nature of anything -that it discovers, and merely wrests everything that it touches from -its own appropriate sphere. For these gods of subordinate rank, at the -head of which we may place such a Divinity as Indrus, who represents -the Air and the Heavens, the chief material is furnished by the general -forces of Nature, such as stars, rivers, and mountains conceived in -the various phases of their activity, their change, their influence on -mankind, whether beneficent or hurtful, preservative or destructive. -One of the most important subjects, however, of Hindoo<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_61" id="Page_61">[Pg 61]</a></span> imagination -and art is the origin of gods and the rest of creation, in other words -its Theogony and Cosmogony. For this type of imagination is generally -rooted in the continual effort to carry over that which is most removed -from sense into the very heart of the external world, or in the reverse -process once more to expunge that which stands nearest to sense and -Nature by means of the barest abstraction. Consequently the origin -of the gods is referred back to the primordial Godhead<a name="FNanchor_52_52" id="FNanchor_52_52"></a><a href="#Footnote_52_52" class="fnanchor">[52]</a>, and at -the same time the workings and existence of Brahmâ, Vishnu, and Sivas -are represented as actual in mountains, streams, and human events. -A cosmological content of this kind can, on the one hand, contain -an independent and specific order of Deities, while on the other -these gods are made to merge in those universal significances of the -supremest type of Godhead. Such theogonies and cosmogonies are numerous -and of every conceivable variety. When anyone ventures, therefore, -to say that the Hindoos have thus or thus portrayed the creation of -the world or the origin of Nature, such a statement can only be taken -to apply to a particular sect or book; you can very easily find a -perfectly different account of these events elsewhere. The imagination -of this people in the pictures and images they have created is -exhaustless.</p> - -<p>A mode of conception which is conspicuous throughout the entire series -of these creation stories is the constantly repeated presentation of -the creative act not in the form of <i>spiritual fiat</i>, but of a purely -<i>natural</i> process of <i>generation.</i> Only after having made ourselves -thoroughly conversant with this mode of imaginative vision shall we -discover the key to unlock the meaning of many representations which -at first totally confound all our feelings of shame, shamelessness -being here apparently driven to its furthest limits, and in its utter -sensuousness carried beyond all belief. A striking example of this -mode of imaginative treatment is offered us by the notoriously popular -episode from the Râmâyana, known as the descent of Gangâ. This tale -is narrated on the occasion when Râmas happens by chance to come to -the Ganges. The wintry and ice-covered Himavân, the prince of the -mountains, was father by the slender Menâ of two daughters, Gangâ, -the elder, and the beautiful Umâ<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_62" id="Page_62">[Pg 62]</a></span> the younger one. Certain gods, -more particularly Indras, beseech the father to send them Gangâ, in -order that they may institute the sacred rites, and as Himavat proves -himself quite ready to accede to their request Gangâ mounts on high -to the blessed gods. After this follows the further story of Umâ, who -after accomplishing wonderful actions of humility and penitence, is -espoused to Rudras, that is, Sivas. From this union spring up wild and -unfruitful mountains. For a hundred years long Sivas lay with Umâ in -the bridal embrace, without intermission, so that the gods aghast at -the procreative power of Sivas, and full of anxiety for the productive -child, beseech him that he will divert the stream of his strength on -the Earth. This passage the English translator has not ventured to -translate literally, for the reason that it flings too much for him -every shred of shame or modesty to the winds. Sivas hearkens to the -beseechings of the gods, and staying his former procreative ardour, -that he may not utterly confound the universe, he loosens the seminal -flood over the Earth. Out of this, transpierced with fire, rises up -the white mountain which separates India from Tartary. Umâ, however, -falls into scorn and anger at this complaisance, and thereon curses -all wedlock. In this section of the tale we have what are mainly -fearful and distorted pictures which run so entirely counter to our -ordinary notions of imagination and intelligent senses that the most -we can do is to observe what they would appear to offer in default of -either. Schlegel has omitted to translate this section of the episode -and merely added in his own words how Gangâ descends once more on the -Earth. And this took place in the following way. A certain forebear -of Râmas, Sagaras, was father of a bad son, and by a second wife he -was father of no less than 60,000 sons, who came into the world in a -pumpkin, were, however, raised up into stalwart men on clarified butter -in pitchers<a name="FNanchor_53_53" id="FNanchor_53_53"></a><a href="#Footnote_53_53" class="fnanchor">[53]</a>. Now it chanced one day that Sagaras was of a mind to -sacrifice a steed, which was, however, seized from him by Vishnu in -the form of a serpent. On this Sagaras sends forth his 60,000 sons. -But no sooner had they come to Vishnu after great hardships and a -long searching than a<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_63" id="Page_63">[Pg 63]</a></span> breath of hers burns them all to ashes. After -a weary waiting a certain grandson of Sagaras, by name Ansumân the -Shining, son of Asamaschas, set forth to find his 60,000 uncles and -the sacrificial steed. He actually comes upon both the steed Siwas and -the heap of ashes. The king of birds, Garudas, however, notifies to -him the fact that unless the stream of the holy Gangâ flows down from -heaven over the heap of ashes his relations will be unable to return -to life. Whereupon the stalwart Ansumân endures for 32,000 years on -the mountain-top of Himavân the sternest mortifications. All in vain. -Neither his own chastisements nor those of yet another 30,000 years -of his son Dwilipas are of the slightest avail. At last the son of -Dwilipas, the glorious Bhagîrathas, succeeds in accomplishing the feat, -but only after mortifications which last 1,000 years. Then the Gangâ -plunges down; but in order that the Earth may not thereby shiver in -pieces, Siwas now bows his head so that the water runs into his mane. -Thereupon yet further mortifications are enjoined upon Bhagîrathas, in -order that Gangâ may be free to stream forth from these locks. Finally -she is poured forth in six streams; the seventh Bhagîrathas conducts -after mighty privations to the place of the 60,000, who mount up to -heaven, and therewith Bhagîrathas rules for yet many a year over his -people in peace.</p> - -<p>Other theogonies such as the Scandinavian and the Greek are very -similar in type to the Hindoo. The principal feature of them all -is this of physical generation and production; but not one of them -plunges so headlong into the subject or in general displays such -caprice and impropriety in the images of its invention as the Hindoo. -The theogony of Hesiod is in particular far more intelligible and -succinct, so that at least one knows where one is, and is clear as to -the general significance; and this is so because the impression is -far more pronounced that the form and external embodiment of the myth -is set forth by the narrator as something external. The mythos starts -in this case<a name="FNanchor_54_54" id="FNanchor_54_54"></a><a href="#Footnote_54_54" class="fnanchor">[54]</a> with Chaos, Erebos, Eros, and Gaia. The Earth (Gaia) -brings forth Uranos of her own accord, and then is mother by him of -the mountains, sea, and so forth, also of Cronos and the<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_64" id="Page_64">[Pg 64]</a></span> Cyclops, -Centimani<a name="FNanchor_55_55" id="FNanchor_55_55"></a><a href="#Footnote_55_55" class="fnanchor">[55]</a>, whom Uranos, however, shortly after birth incarcerates -in Tartaros. Gaia thereupon induces Cronos to castrate Uranos. The deed -is accomplished. And from the blood that falls on the Earth spring to -life the Erinnyes and the Giants. The castrated member is caught by the -sea, and from the sea's foam arises Cytherea. In all this description -the outlines are more clearly and decisively drawn. And we are thereby -carried beyond the circle of mere gods of Nature.</p> - -<p>3. If we endeavour now to seize some point where the transition is -emphasized to the stage of real symbolism, we shall find the same -already in the first beginnings of Hindoo imagination. That is to -say, however preoccupied the Hindoo imagination may be in its efforts -to contort the sensuous phenomenon into a plurality of Divinities, a -preoccupation which no other people has displayed with anything like -the same exhaustless scope and countless transformations, yet from -another point of view in many of its visions and narratives it remains -throughout constant to that spiritual abstraction of a God supreme over -all, in contrast with whom the particular, sensuous, and phenomenal -is undivine, inadequate, and consequently is apprehended as something -negative, something which has finally to be cancelled. For, as we have -from the first noticed, it is precisely this continual involution of -one side on the other which constitutes the fundamental type of the -Hindoo imagination, and makes it for ever incapable of finding a true -principle of reconciliation. The art is consequently never tired of -representing, in every imaginable way, the surrender of the sensuous -and the power of spiritual abstraction and self-absorption. Of this -kind are the representations of toilsome mortifications and profound -meditations, of which not merely the most ancient epical poems, -such as the "Râmâyana" and the "Mahâbhârata," but also many other -works of art furnish most important examples. No doubt many of these -self-chastisements are undergone on grounds of ambition, or at least -with a view to definite objects, which do conduct the devotee to the -highest and most final union with Brahman, and to the mortification of<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_65" id="Page_65">[Pg 65]</a></span> -everything carnal and finite. An object of this kind is the endeavour -to secure the power of a Brahmin; but even in this there is always the -fact present to consciousness that the expiation and the continuance -of a meditation that is ever more and more diverted from the objects -of sense will raise the devotee over his birth-place in a particular -caste, no less than help him resist the power of Nature and the gods -of Nature. For this reason, that prince of Divinities of this class, -Indras, opposes most signally strenuous aspirants, and strives to -entice them away; or, in the case where all his seductions fail, he -invokes assistance from the supreme gods lest the entire heaven fall -into confusion.</p> - -<p>In the representation of mortifications of this kind and the several -kinds and grades according to which they are ranked, Hindoo art is -almost as fertile in its invention as in its system of Divinities, and -it pursues the theme with the most thorough earnestness.</p> - -<p>This, then, is the point from which we may now extend our survey in a -forward direction.</p> - - - -<h6>C. REAL SYMBOLISM</h6> - - -<p>In the case of symbolical, no less than that of Fine Art, it is -necessary that the significance which it seeks to embody should not -merely be set forth, as is the case in Hindoo art, from the first -immediate unity of the same with its objective existence, such -as obtains before any severation or distinction has as yet been -emphasized, but that this significance should itself be independent and -<i>free</i> from the <i>immediate</i> sensuous content. This deliverance can only -so far assert itself as the sensuous and natural medium is both grasped -and envisaged as itself essentially negative, as that which has to be -and has been absorbed. It is a further requirement, moreover, that the -negativity, which is successful in making its appearance as the passing -off and the self-dissolution of the Natural, should be accepted and -receive embodiment as the <i>absolute import</i> of the object generally, -as a phase, that is to say, of the Divine. But with a fulfilment of -such claims we are already beyond the limits of Hindoo art. It is true -that the consciousness of this<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_66" id="Page_66">[Pg 66]</a></span> negative side is not wholly absent -from the Hindoo imagination. Sivas is the destroyer no less than the -producer. Indras dies, nay, more, the Destroyer Time, personified as -Kâla the terrible giant, confounds the entire universe and all gods, -even Trimûrtis, who passes away at the same time in Brahman, just as -the individual in his self-identification with the highest form of -Divinity suffers his Ego and all his wisdom and will to vanish away. -In these conceptions, however, the negative element is in part merely -a transformation and change, in part only an abstraction, which allows -all definition to drop away, in order that it may thrust its path to -an indefinite and consequently vacuous and content-less universality. -The substance of the Divine on the other hand persists through change -of form, passage over and advance to a system of many Deities, and the -abrogation of that system once more in the one highest form of God -unalterably one and the same. It is not that conception of the one -God, which itself essentially possesses, as this unity, the negative -aspect as its own determination, both necessary and appropriate to its -own essential notion. In an analogous way the destructive and hurtful -element is placed according to the Parsee view of existence <i>outside</i> -the personality of Ormuzd in Ahriman, and consequently only makes a -contradiction and conflict manifest belonging under no form of relation -to Ormuzd, as a distinct phase of his own substance.</p> - -<p>The actual point in the advance which we have now to make consists, -therefore, in this that, on the one hand, the negative aspect, fixed -by consciousness in an independent relation as the Absolute, is, -however, on the other, merely regarded as a phase of the Divine, as -a phase, however, which is not only as outside the true Absolute -incidental to another Godhead<a name="FNanchor_56_56" id="FNanchor_56_56"></a><a href="#Footnote_56_56" class="fnanchor">[56]</a>, but is to be so ascribed to the -Absolute, that the true God appears as a process in which He negates -<i>Himself</i>, and thereby contains this<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_67" id="Page_67">[Pg 67]</a></span> negative element as an inherent -self-determination of His own substance.</p> - -<p>Through this enlarged conception the Absolute is for the first time -essentially <i>concrete</i>, that is self-determination, and thereby -essential unity, whose particular antitheses, as parts of a process, -appear to consciousness as the different determinations of one and -the same God. For the necessity of giving essential definition to the -absolute significance is just that which at this stage it is felt to be -of first importance to satisfy. All the significances up to this point -persisted by virtue of their abstract character as absolutely undefined -and consequently void of content, or were merged, when in a converse -direction they tended to clear distinction, immediately in the Being of -Nature, or fell into a conflict in respect to their configuration which -gave them no repose and reconciliation. This twofold defect we have now -to remove, both by showing the advance of Thought regarded as itself an -ideal process, and by illustrating that advance by means of particular -facts of the mind and institutions of nations on the objective plane of -history.</p> - -<p>And in the <i>first</i> place we may observe a more intimate bond of -association is set up between the Inward and Outward aspect of -consciousness in the increased recognition that every determination -of the Absolute is already essentially an inchoate movement in the -direction of expression. For every determination is essentially -distinction<a name="FNanchor_57_57" id="FNanchor_57_57"></a><a href="#Footnote_57_57" class="fnanchor">[57]</a>. The External, however, is as such always defined -and distinct, and consequently there is thus an aspect immediately -presented, according to which the External is manifested in a form -more adequate to the significance than was possible under the modes -of conception as yet examined. The first definition, however, and -essential negation of the Absolute inevitably falls short of the free -self-determination of Spirit as <i>Spirit.</i> It is merely the immediate -negation of itself. This immediate and consequently natural negation -in its most comprehensive form of statement is <i>Death.</i> The Absolute -is consequently apprehended now in a way that it is compelled to -submit itself to this form of negation as a part of<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_68" id="Page_68">[Pg 68]</a></span> the essential -determination of its own notion, in other words it is obliged to enter -the path of extinction, and we observe consequently the glorification -of Death and grief in the first instance made present to the national -consciousness as the death of the dying sensuous material. The death of -Nature is cognized as a necessary part<a name="FNanchor_58_58" id="FNanchor_58_58"></a><a href="#Footnote_58_58" class="fnanchor">[58]</a> of the life of the Absolute. -The Absolute, however, on the one hand, in order to be subject to this -phase of Death, must be posited already as determinate existence; and, -equally from another point of view, must not be suffered to remain in -the annihilation of Death, but must be held to <i>re-establish</i> itself -in an essentially positive unity on a yet higher plane of existence. -Death is consequently not accepted here as constituting the entire -significance, but merely one aspect of the same. And though no doubt -the Absolute is in one sense viewed as a cessation of its immediate -existence, a passage over and beyond and a passing away, yet it is -quite as much in the reverse sense conceived as a return upon itself, -as a resurrection, as an eternal process of Divine realization rendered -possible by virtue of this evolutional principle of negation. For Death -is capable of a twofold meaning. Under the first it is the immediate -passing away of the natural; under the second Death is the extinction -of the exclusively natural and thereby the birth of a higher type, that -is, spiritual, from which the merely natural falls away in the sense, -that Spirit possesses in itself this phase as an essential phase of its -own substance.</p> - -<p>For this reason, <i>secondly</i>, the form of Nature can no longer be -accepted in the immediacy of sensuous existence as adequate to the -significance referred to it, because the significance of the External -consists just in this, that it must die in the form of its real -existence and rise again.</p> - -<p>On the same ground, <i>thirdly</i>, the mere conflict between significance -and form and that ferment of the imagination, which was the fantastic -product of Hindoo conceptions, drop away. The significance is, it is -true, even now not yet fully and with absolute clarity cognized in its -pure unity <i>free</i> from all sense-presented reality, so that it could be -set forth in real <i>contrast</i> with the form of its actual embodiment; -conversely, however, the form itself, this particular, object,<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_69" id="Page_69">[Pg 69]</a></span> that -is, whether in its glorified shape of grandiosity or in any other -more conspicuous form of caricature, as an image of animal life, a -human personification, event or action, is not taken to envisage for -immediate sense an adequate existence of the Absolute. This corrupt -form of identity is already surpassed as fully to the extent that it -still falls behind that other complete deliverance. And in the place of -both of these extremes we have asserted that kind of representation, -which we have above already described as the <i>real symbolical.</i> On the -one hand it is now <i>able</i> to appear for the reason that the Inward, or -that which is conceived as significance, is no longer something which -merely, as in Hindoo conceptions, comes and passes away, at one moment -is absorbed immediately in externality, at another is withdrawn from -the same into the solitude of abstraction, but it begins to make itself -independently secure against the mere reality of Nature. And on the -other hand the symbol is now forced to seek some form of plastic shape. -That is to say, although the significance, identical in every way with -that which has hitherto obtained, possesses as a phasal condition of -its content the negation of the Natural, yet the true Inward now for -the first time shows a definite tendency to wrest its way from that -Natural, and is consequently itself still swallowed up within the -external mode of appearance, so that it is unable independently to be -brought home to consciousness in its clear universality without having -previously had to comply with the form of external reality.</p> - -<p>Now the kind of <i>configuration</i> which is implied by the notion of -that which generally constitutes the <i>fundamental significance</i> in -symbolism, may be described in the following terms, namely, we find in -it that the definite forms of Nature, human activities and so forth, -neither—to express one aspect of it—represent or signify merely -themselves severally in their isolated natural characteristics, nor—to -emphasize the other aspect—bring their immediate form to consciousness -as the Divine actually visible to sense. They are rather employed to -<i>suggest</i> that same Divine through qualities which they possess cognate -with a significance of more comprehensive range. For this reason it is -just that universal dialectic of Life, its origin, growth, collapse -in and<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_70" id="Page_70">[Pg 70]</a></span> awakening from Death, which also in this connection supplies -the appropriate content for the true symbolic type; and this is so -because we find in almost every province of natural and spiritual -life certain phenomena, which presuppose this process as the basis of -their existence, and consequently can be utilized as means of giving a -visible body to such significant aspects and of pointing by suggestion -to the same, a real affinity being actually inherent between the two -sides. Thus plants spring from their seed, sprout, grow, bring forth -fruit; the fruit corrupts and produces fresh seed. In the same way the -sun rises to a low elevation in winter; in Spring he mounts on high, -until we have his meridian reached in summer; it is then that he pours -forth his richest blessing or exerts the greatest destructive force; -after that he inclines once more towards the horizon. The various -stages of human life, too, childhood, youth, maturity, and old age, -illustrate precisely the same universal process. But in a special sense -specific localities such as the Nile-valley are adapted to the closer -particularization in the direction indicated.</p> - -<p>In so far, then, as that which is purely fantastic is displaced by -these more fundamental traits of affinity and the more intimate -applicability of the expression to the import it expresses there arises -a thoughtful process of selection with reference to the comparative -congruity or incongruity of the symbolizing forms, and the intoxicated -eddy to and fro which prevailed is laid to rest in a more intelligent -circumspection.</p> - -<p>We consequently observe that a union more at one with itself reappears -in the place of that which we found in the first stage of our process, -subject, however, to this characteristic difference, that the identity -of the significance with its objectively real existence is no longer -one immediately envisaged, but one that is <i>set up</i> out of the -difference and consequently not one previously discovered, rather we -should say a mode of union that is the <i>product of mind</i> (Spirit). That -which, in its most general terms, we call the <i>Inward</i> begins at this -point to assume the solidity of self-subsistence, to be conscious of -itself; it seeks for its counterfeit in the objects of Nature, which -on their part possess a similar reflection in the life and destinies -of Spirit. Out of<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_71" id="Page_71">[Pg 71]</a></span> this eager movement to recognize the one side in -the other, and by means of the external to bring for itself visibly -to sense and the imaginative faculty the significance, as also to -envisage by virtue of that Inward the significance of the external -shapes through a union in which both sides are associated, we get that -vast impulse of art which finds its satisfaction through means which -are purely symbolical. Only when the Inward is free and is driven -forward to make clear to the imaginative vision in real form what it -essentially is, and to have before itself this very vision, moreover, -in the form of an external work, do we find that the genuine impulse -of art, and the particularly plastic arts, begins to be a living fact. -Then it is that the necessity is felt to clothe the Inward with a -form not merely previously discovered from the resources of spiritual -activity, but rather one that is minted out of spirit (mind) for the -first time. In the symbol, then, there is a second form <i>created</i>, -which, however, is not independently valid for itself as its main -purpose, but is rather employed to envisage the significance, and -stands consequently in a dependent relation to the same.</p> - -<p>It were possible to apprehend the above relation in such a way as -though the significance were that point from which the artistic -consciousness starts on its journey, and that only after having found -this it begins to look round for means to express its universal -conceptions through external phenomena cognate in their affinity to -such conceptions. This, however, is not the way that real symbolic -art proceeds. For its characteristic distinction consists in this, -that its penetration fails as yet to grasp the significances in their -independent consistency, independent, that is, from every mode of -externality. For this reason its point of departure is rather from -that which is immediately presented and its concrete existence in -Nature and Spirit. This it thereupon, in the first instance, expands -to the measure of the universality of such significances, whose -determination such objective real existence contains only under more -restricted conditions, adding this wider range in order that it may -create a form from Spirit, which is to make that universality visible -to consciousness in this particular reality when once it is set forth -clearly before perception. Regarded<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_72" id="Page_72">[Pg 72]</a></span> as symbolical forms, therefore, -the images of art have not as yet attained a form truly adequate -to Spirit, inasmuch as Spirit itself is not as yet at this stage -essentially clear and thereby free Spirit; but we have at least here -embodiments, which essentially proclaim the fact to us, that they are -not merely selected to represent simply themselves, but are intended to -point to significances of profounder intension and more—comprehensive -range. That which is purely natural and sensuous asserts itself as fact -and nothing beside; the symbolical work of art, however, whether it -be the phenomena of Nature or the human figure that it makes visible -to the eye, points at the same time over and outside such facts to -something further, which, however, must possess an intimate root of -affinity with the images that are thus displayed, and an essential bond -of relation with them. This association between the concrete form and -its universal significance may conceivably be present in many different -ways. At one time the emphasis will be laid on the external aspect, and -it will consequently be more obscure; at another, however, the basis of -affinity will be more pronounced as in the case when the universality, -which is to be symbolized, constitutes, in fact, the essential content -of the concrete phenomenon. In this case naturally it is a much simpler -matter to grasp the symbolic character of the object.</p> - -<p>The most abstract mode of expression in this respect is <i>number</i>, -which, however, it is only possible to use as an indication of a -further meaning beyond that it ordinarily elucidates when this -significance is itself, essentially numerical. The numbers seven and -twelve are frequently met with in Egyptian architecture, because -seven is the number of the planets, and twelve is that of the lunar -revolutions or the number of feet that the water of the Nile must -necessarily rise in order to fructify the land. Such a number is then -regarded as sacred in so far as it is present as a determinant in the -great elementary relations, which are revered as forces in the whole -life of Nature. Twelve steps or seven pillars are to this extent -symbolical. The same kind of numerical symbolism has an extensive -influence upon the form of widely famous mythologies. The twelve -labours of Hercules, for example, appear to contain a reference<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_73" id="Page_73">[Pg 73]</a></span> to the -twelve months of the year; for if Hercules under one aspect of the myth -is no doubt presented to us as the thoroughly human impersonation of a -hero, in another he unquestionably indicates a significance of Nature -under a symbolized form, and, in fact, is a personification of the -course of the sun.</p> - -<p>In a further and more complete sense symbolical configurations of -space, labyrinthine passages, and such like carry a symbolical image -of the course of the planets, just as dances, too, in virtue of their -complex evolutions symbolically express the motion of the great -elementary bodies.</p> - -<p>And further, on a higher plane, the bodies of animals are utilized -as symbols, but most succinctly of all the human figure, which, even -at this stage, as we shall see later on, appears to be elaborated in -modes more compatible with its intrinsic worth for the reason that even -now Spirit in general makes a real movement to embody itself from out -the mere swaddling clothes of Nature in a shape more adequate to its -own self-subsistent personality. Such, then, constitutes our general -concept of the true form of symbolism and the necessity under which -art labours to express the same. And in order that we may discuss the -more concrete exemplifications of this type of symbolism, it will be -necessary in dealing with this first plunge of Spirit into the wealth -of its own resources to leave the East and direct our attention mainly -on the West.</p> - -<p>As a symbol of universal import to indicate the point of view where -we now stand, we may perhaps first and foremost fix before our eyes -the image of the Phoenix, which is its own funeral pile, yet ever is -rejuvenated out of the flames of its death and rises from the ashes. -Herodotus informs us (II, 73) that at least in representations he saw -this bird in Egypt, and, in fact, it is the <i>Egyptian</i> people who also -supply us with a focus for the type of symbolical art. Before, however, -we proceed to the closer consideration of Egyptian art we will mention -several other myths, which form, as it were, the passage to that -national symbolism which we find most elaborate, no matter from what -direction we approach it. Such are the myths of Adonis, that of his -death, and the lament of Aphrodite over him, the funeral<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_74" id="Page_74">[Pg 74]</a></span> festivals, -etc., conceptions and rites which find their original home on the -Syrian coast. The service of Cybele among the Phrygians possesses the -same significance, which also finds its echo in the myths of Castor and -Pollux, Ceres and Proserpina.</p> - -<p>As the essence of such significance we find in the above quoted -examples, before everything else, that phasal condition of negation we -have already alluded to, the death, that is, of the natural regarded -as a basic and absolute condition of the Divine process, emphasized -as such, and made visible in its independence. It is in this sense -that we can explain the funeral festivals that celebrate the death of -the god, the excessive lamentations over his loss, which is once more -made good through his rediscovery, resurrection, and rejuvenescence, -making it possible for the festivals of joy to follow. This universal -significance contains further its more definite relation to Nature. -In winter the sun loses his force, while in spring he returns once -more, and with that Nature regains her youth, she dies and is reborn. -In examples such as these the Divine, personified as a human event, -discovers its significance in the life of Nature, which then from a -further point of view becomes a symbol for the essential character of -the negative condition generally, in spiritual things no less than -natural.</p> - -<p>It is in <i>Egypt</i>, however, that we have to look for the perfect -example of symbolical representation in its systematic elaboration of -characteristic content and form. Egypt is the land of symbol, which -proposes to itself the spiritual problem of the self-interpretation -of Spirit, without being able successfully to solve it. The problems -remain without an answer; and such solution as we are able to supply -consists therefore merely in this, that we grasp these riddles of -Egyptian art and its symbolical productions as this very problem which -Egypt propounds for herself but is unable to solve. For the reason -that we find that Spirit here still endeavours in the external objects -of sense, from which again it strains to free itself, and further -labours with unwearied assiduity, to evolve from itself its essential -substance by means of natural phenomena no less than to embody the same -in the form of spirit for the <i>vision of the senses</i>,<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_75" id="Page_75">[Pg 75]</a></span> rather than -as the pure content of mind, this Egyptian people may, in contrast -to all the instances previously examined, be described as the nation -Art claims for herself<a name="FNanchor_59_59" id="FNanchor_59_59"></a><a href="#Footnote_59_59" class="fnanchor">[59]</a>. Its works of art, however, remain full of -mystery and silence, without music or motion; and this is so because -Spirit here has not yet truly found its own life, nor has learned how -to utter the clear and luminous speech of mind. In the unsatisfied -stress and impulse, to bring before the vision through her art, albeit -in so voiceless a way, this wrestle of herself with herself, to give -shape to the Inward of her life, but only to become conscious of her -own Inward, no less than that which universally prevails<a name="FNanchor_60_60" id="FNanchor_60_60"></a><a href="#Footnote_60_60" class="fnanchor">[60]</a>, through -external forms which are cognate with it—we have in a sentence the -characterization of Egypt. The people of this wonderful land was not -merely agricultural, but also constructive, a folk which tossed up the -soil in every direction, delved lakes and canals, and exercised their -artistic instincts not merely in giving visible shape to buildings of -enormous solidity, but in carrying works themselves of vast dimension -to a like extent into the bowels of the earth. To erect buildings of -this kind was, as we have long ago learned from Herodotus, a principal -occupation of this people, and one of the chief exploits of their -kings. The buildings of the Hindoo race are also unquestionably of -colossal size; we shall, however, find nowhere else a variety which can -compare with that of Egypt.</p> - -<p>1. Reviewing now the general conceptions of Egyptian art with a closer -attention to particular aspects of it, we may in the first place define -the fundamental principle of so much of it as follows, that we find -here the Inward is securely held in its independent opposition to the -immediacy of external existence. And what is more, this Inward is -conceived as the negation of Life, in other words the dead thing, not -as the abstract negation of the evil and hurtful thing, such as Ahriman -in contrast to Ormuzd, but as form essentially substantive.</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_76" id="Page_76">[Pg 76]</a></span></p> - -<p>(<i>a</i>) To illustrate this thought further, the Hindoo merely subtilizes -his life to the most empty of abstractions, that is in result one that -therewith negates every form of concrete content. Such a Brahm-becoming -process is not to be found in Egypt; rather we find here that the -invisible possesses a fuller significance; the corpse secures the -content of the living body itself, which, however, as torn away from -immediate existence, in its retirement from actual life<a name="FNanchor_61_61" id="FNanchor_61_61"></a><a href="#Footnote_61_61" class="fnanchor">[61]</a>, still -possesses its relation to that which is alive, and in this concrete -form is maintained as self-subsistent. It is a well-known fact that -the Egyptians embalmed and revered cats, dogs, hawks, ichneumons, -bears, and wolves (Herod., II, 67), but most of all the dead human body -(Herod., II, 86-90). By them the honour paid to the dead is not that of -burial, but its preservation from age to age as a corpse.</p> - -<p>(<i>b</i>) And moreover we may observe that the Egyptians do not merely -remain constant to this immediate and still wholly natural permanency -of the dead. That which is preserved in its physical or natural aspect -is also conceived to endure in a form present to the imagination. -Herodotus informs us that the Egyptians were the first who held the -doctrine that the human soul is immortal. We consequently find that -they are the first who present to us a more exalted mode of this -resolution of the natural and spiritual, a mode that is to say, under -which it is not merely the natural body which secures an independent -self-subsistence.</p> - -<p>The immortality of the soul is a conception which borders closely upon -the freedom of Spirit. The Ego is here apprehended as removed from the -purely natural mode of its existence, reposing on its own substance. -This knowledge of itself, however, is the principle of freedom. No -doubt we are not justified in asserting that the Egyptians grasped -the notion of spiritual freedom in its profoundest sense. We must not -imagine that their belief in the immortality of the soul is identical -with our own form of that belief; but they already possessed the power -to retain securely that which was separated from Life under a form<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_77" id="Page_77">[Pg 77]</a></span> -of existence visible only to the imagination, no less than one in -which it was identical with the bodily material. They have thereby -made possible the passage to the full emancipation of Spirit, albeit -it was but the threshold of the temple of freedom that they passed -over. This fundamental conception of theirs is further expanded to a -unified and substantial Kingdom of the Departed set up in contrast to -the immediate presence of the real. A Court of Justice of the Dead is -held in this invisible state over which Osiris as Amenthes presides. -One of similar character is also instituted in the sphere of immediate -reality, justice being executed even among men over the dead, and after -the decease of a king every one was entitled to submit his grievances -to that court.</p> - -<p>(<i>c</i>) If we now proceed to inquire what is the <i>symbolical</i> form of -art, which is given to such conceptions, we must look for this among -the characteristic features of Egyptian architecture. The form of this -architecture is twofold; there is one type that is superterraneous, -while the other is subterraneous.</p> - -<p>On the one hand we find underground labyrinths, gorgeous and extensive -excavations, passages half a mile in length, dwellings covered with -hieroglyphics elaborated with every possible care. On the other we have -piled above their level those amazing constructions among which we -may first and foremost reckon the <i>pyramids</i>. For centuries men have -ventilated various notions as to the precise meaning and significance -of these pyramids. It is now, however, assured beyond dispute that they -are nothing more or less than the enclosures of the graves of kings or -sacred animals, such as the Apis, the Cat, or the Ibis. In this way we -have before our eyes in the pyramids the simple prototype of symbolical -art. They are enormous crystals which secrete an Inward within them; -and they so enclose an external form which is the product of art, that -we are at the same time made aware they stand there for this very -Inward in its severation from the mere actuality of Nature, and that -their entire significance depends on that relation. But this kingdom -of Death and the Invisible, which here constitutes the significance, -possesses merely the one and, what is more, the formal aspect -appropriate to the true type<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_78" id="Page_78">[Pg 78]</a></span> of art, that is its dissociation from -immediate existence; it is for this reason primarily but a Hades, not -yet a Life, which, although raised above sensuous existence as such, -is none the less at the same time essentially a defined existence, -and thereby intrinsically free and living Spirit. Consequently the -embodiment for such an Inward still remains in relation to the -determinacy of the same's content quite as much a wholly external form -and envelopment. Such an external environment, in which an Inward -reposes under a veil, are the pyramids.</p> - -<p>2. In so far, then, as the Inward can be generally envisaged as an -external object to immediate perception, the Egyptians in their -relation to the aspect opposed to this externality have come to worship -a Divine existence in living animals, such as the bull, the cat, and -various others. That which is alive is on a higher plane than the -purely inorganic object, inasmuch as the living organism possesses an -Inward, to which the external shape points, which, however, persists -as an Inward and consequently a realm of mystery. This sacred cult of -animals must consequently be understood as the vision of a secreted -soul<a name="FNanchor_62_62" id="FNanchor_62_62"></a><a href="#Footnote_62_62" class="fnanchor">[62]</a>, which as Life is a power superior to that which is merely -external. To us no doubt it can only appear as a repugnant fact that -animals, dogs and cats, are held sacred instead of that which is truly -spiritual.</p> - -<p>This worship, moreover, has nothing symbolical in it viewed simply as -such; for it is the actual living animal, Apis or the like, which is -here itself revered as the existence of God. The Egyptians, however, -have used the shapes of animals in a symbolical way. In that case -they are no longer valid, simply for what they are, but it is further -assumed that they express a more universal import. We find the most -ingenuous illustration of this in the use of animal masks, which we -find more particularly under representations of embalming, at which -process certain individuals, who take an active part, either in opening -the corpse or removing the intestines, are depicted wearing such masks. -It is obvious that the animal's head is not taken to present the animal -itself, but a significance at the same time distinct from it<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_79" id="Page_79">[Pg 79]</a></span> and more -universal. The forms of animals are also utilized in other ways than -this in admixture with the human form. Human figures are to be found -with heads of lions, which have been interpreted as images of Minerva; -then there are heads of the hawk, and in the heads of Ammon we find -the horns still retained. Examples such as the above obviously imply -symbolical relations. In a like sense the hieroglyphical writing of -the Egyptians is in great measure symbolical, for it either endeavours -to make its meaning comprehensible through the images of real objects -which do not stand for themselves, but a universality which is cognate -with them, or, as is still more frequently the case, in the so-called -phonetic aspect of this style of writing, it signifies particular -letters by means of the specific mark of some external object, whose -initial letter possesses in speech the same tone as that which it is -the intention to express.</p> - -<p>3. And generally it is the fact that in Egypt pretty nearly every -conformation is symbolical and hieroglyphical, expressing not itself -but indicative of something more, with which it possesses affinity, -or in other words a cognate relation. The truest forms of the symbol, -however, are only completely illustrated in such cases where we find -that this relation is of a more profound and fundamental character -than those we have just adverted to. We will now briefly enumerate -a few constantly recurring examples of this more important type of -affiliation.</p> - -<p>(<i>a</i>) Precisely as Egyptian belief<a name="FNanchor_63_63" id="FNanchor_63_63"></a><a href="#Footnote_63_63" class="fnanchor">[63]</a> surmises a mysterious Inwardness -of content in the animal form, we find the human figure represented in -such a way that the most characteristic intension<a name="FNanchor_64_64" id="FNanchor_64_64"></a><a href="#Footnote_64_64" class="fnanchor">[64]</a> of subjectivity -is still asserted through an external relation, and consequently is -unable to unfold into the freedom of Beauty. Particularly remarkable -in this respect are those colossal figures of <i>Memnon</i> which, reposing -on themselves, motionless, with arms glued to the body, feet close -together, inflexible, stiff and lifeless, are set up face to face -with the sun, waiting for his ray to strike them,<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_80" id="Page_80">[Pg 80]</a></span> animate them, and -make them resonant. Herodotus, at any rate, informs us that these -Memnonic figures emitted a musical note on the sun's rising. The -higher criticism has no doubt expressed itself as sceptical on the -latter point; the fact, however, of a distinct note has recently been -once more established both by Frenchmen and Englishmen; and though it -appears that this echo is no result of previous mechanical ingenuity, -we have an explanation of it in the fact that, as sometimes happens -with minerals which make a crackling noise in water, the tone of these -images of stone is actually produced by the collective action of the -dew, the morning cool, and the subsequent impact of the sun's rays, to -the extent, that is, that tiny fractures appear in the stone which then -again disappear. In any case we may attribute to these colossal shapes -the symbolical import, that they do not possess the spiritual principle -of Life free in themselves, and consequently require that their -animation should be brought to them externally by Light, which alone is -able to unbar the music of their life, instead of having the power to -accept the same from that real soul of Inwardness, which essentially -carries with it measure and beauty. In contrast to them the human -voice is the echo of personal feeling and the soul's self, without any -external stimulant, just as the height of human art generally consists -in the fact that the Inward of Spirit supplies the form thereof from -its own substance. The Inward or soul of the human form is in Egypt -still a mute, and in its animation it is the relation to external -nature which alone commands attention.</p> - -<p>(<i>b</i>) A further type of symbolical conception is to be found in Isis -and Osiris. Osiris is an object of procreation and birth, and is done -to death by Typhon. Isis seeks for the scattered members, finds, -collects, and buries them. This mythos of the god has, then, in the -first place as its content purely <i>natural significance.</i> From one -point of view, that is to say, Osiris is the sun, and his life-history -stands as symbolic for his yearly course; from another, however, he -signifies the rise and fall of the Nile, which is necessarily the -source of all fruitfulness in Egypt. For in Egypt there may not be a -drop of rain for years together, and it is the Nile which primarily -waters the land by its floods. In winter time it flows but a shallow -stream within its bed; then,<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_81" id="Page_81">[Pg 81]</a></span> however, with the summer-solstice -("Herod.," II, 19) it begins for a hundred days to rise, pours over its -banks and streams far and wide over the land. Finally the water dries -up beneath the sun's heat and the scorching desert winds, and once -more retires to its course. Under such conditions the tillage of the -soil is carried out with ease; the most luxurious vegetation springs -up. Everything buds and ripens. The sun and Nile, and the way both of -them become weak or strong, these are the conspicuous forces of Nature -in this land, which the Egyptian has symbolically depicted under a -human form in the myths of Isis and Osiris. To this type of symbolism, -too, belongs the symbolical representation of the zodiac, which is -associated with the year's course, just as the number of the twelve -gods is bound up with the months. Conversely, however, Osiris typifies -under another aspect the entirely <i>human.</i> He is held sacred as the -founder of agriculture, of the division of the soil, property and laws, -and his worship is consequently to an equal extent related to human -activities, which are connected in the closest manner with ethical and -judicial functions.</p> - -<p>In the same way he is judge of the Dead, and secures as such a -significance wholly released from the mere life of Nature, an import -under which the symbolical tends to pass away for the reason that -here the Inward and Spiritual is of itself content of the human form, -which, under such a mode of relation, begins to conserve the Inward -essentially belonging to it, one, that is, which through its external -form signifies merely its own substance. This spiritual process, -however, assumes again in equal measure as its content the external -life of Nature, and, for example, in temples, number of steps, floors, -and pillars, in labyrinths and their passages, windings and chambers, -represents the same in an external manner. Osiris is thus quite as much -the natural as he is the spiritual life in the different phases of his -process<a name="FNanchor_65_65" id="FNanchor_65_65"></a><a href="#Footnote_65_65" class="fnanchor">[65]</a> and its transformations; and his symbolical embodiments are -partly symbolic of the elements of Nature; while again in part these -changes of Nature are themselves merely symbols of spiritual activities -and their various phases. For this reason, too, the human form persists -here as no mere personification, such as we found to be the-case -previously,<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_82" id="Page_82">[Pg 82]</a></span> because here the natural aspect, albeit from one point of -view it appears as the real significance, yet from another is itself -merely asserted as a symbol of the Spirit; and, generally speaking, -at this stage of conception, where we find that the Inward struggles -to come forth from the sense-vision of Nature, it is in a position of -subordinance.</p> - -<p>For the same reason we find here that the human figure already receives -an entirely different type of elaboration, attesting thereby a real -effort to penetrate the arcana of true Inwardness and Spirit, though -this endeavour also fails as yet to attain its object, that is, the -essential freedom of the Spiritual. And it is by reason of this very -defect that the human figure remains before us with neither freedom nor -serene clarity, colossal, brooding, petrified, legs, arms, and head -glued straitened and tight to the rest of the body, without the grace -or motion of Life. Thus it is that art is first ascribed to Daedalus, -in that he loosed arms and feet from their fetters, and endowed the -body with movement.</p> - -<p>On account of this alternative aspect of symbolism above referred to -symbolism in Egypt is, in addition to its other characteristics, a -totality of symbols in the sense that what in one respect is asserted -as significance is employed as symbol in a sphere cognate with it. This -ambiguous association of a symbolism which makes significance and form -intertwine, which is further actually typical or suggestive of much, -and thereby is already concurrent with that inward subjective sense, -which alone is capable of following such indications in a variety of -directions<a name="FNanchor_66_66" id="FNanchor_66_66"></a><a href="#Footnote_66_66" class="fnanchor">[66]</a>, is the characteristic distinction of these images, -albeit by reason of this ambiguity the difficulty of interpreting them -is of course increased.</p> - -<p>A significance of this type—attempts at deciphering which are -unquestionably nowadays carried too far for the reason that pretty -nearly every kind of form is virtually set before us as symbolical -in some relation—may very possibly from the point of view of the -Egyptians themselves have been clear and intelligible as significance. -But, as we insisted at the very entrance of our inquiry, the -appropriate motto for the interpretation of Egyptian symbolism is<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_83" id="Page_83">[Pg 83]</a></span> -<i>implicite multum nihil explicite.</i> There is a type of workmanship -undertaken with the express endeavour that it shall carry its own -interpretation on the forehead, but we only find there evidence of the -effort; it stops short of the essential point of self-illumination. It -is in this sense that we must fix our eyes on the works of Egyptian -art. They contain riddles, the full solution of which is not merely -withheld from ourselves, but was equally beyond the reach of the great -majority of the artists who created them.</p> - -<p>(<i>c</i>) The works of Egyptian art in their excessively mysterious -symbolism are therefore riddles, let us rather say the objective -riddle's self. And we may summarily define the <i>Sphinx</i> as symbol of -the real significance of the genius of Egypt. It stands as a symbol for -symbolism itself. In countless numbers, set forth in rows of a hundred -at a time, we come across these Sphinx-forms on Egyptian soil; they -are hewn from the hardest stone, polished, covered with hieroglyphics, -and in the vicinity of Cairo of such colossal dimensions that their -lion-claws alone measure a man's height. Their animal bodies lie in -repose, above which as bust a human body rears itself; now and again -we find the head of a ram, but in the most common case it is that of -a woman. Out of the obtuse strength and robustness of animality the -spirit of man is fain to press forward, albeit still unable to attain -the perfect representation of his own freedom, or a counterfeit of -his body in motion; and this is inevitable, for he is still forced to -remain blended in the company of that Other which confronts himself. -This straining after self-conscious spirituality, which fails to grasp -itself from the truth of its own substance in a form of external -reality which is alone adequate to express it, and instead envisages -and brings the same home to consciousness in that which is merely -cognate with it, but also that which is equally foreign to it, is, in -its general terms, the symbolical; and we find it here concentrated to -a point as the riddle.</p> - -<p>It is in this sense that the Sphinx in the Greek mythos, which itself -again is open to symbolic interpretation, appears as the monster -which propounds its riddle. The sphinx asked here the famous and -problematical question: "Who is it, who walks in the morning on four -legs, at noon upon two legs, and in the evening on three?" Oedipus -discovered<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_84" id="Page_84">[Pg 84]</a></span> the simple answer that it was man himself, and hurled the -sphinx from the rocks. The resolution of the symbol consists in the -illumination of all that is implied in the significance of one word, -Spirit, just as the famous Greek inscription cries out to mankind: -"Know thyself." The light of consciousness is that clarity, which -suffers its concrete content to shine all luminous through the form -which is wholly adapted to unfold it, and in its positive form of -existence simply reveals that which it is in truth.</p> -<hr class="r5" /> -<div class="footnote"> - -<p><a name="Footnote_37_37" id="Footnote_37_37"></a><a href="#FNanchor_37_37"><span class="label">[37]</span></a> <i>Bedeutung</i>.</p></div> - -<div class="footnote"> - -<p><a name="Footnote_38_38" id="Footnote_38_38"></a><a href="#FNanchor_38_38"><span class="label">[38]</span></a> What Hegel means is that calling an aspect of sense -bodily or natural itself implies a distinction from that which is -spiritual, or only cognized by mind, and this distinction is not -present to the earliest human cognition of Divine reality.</p></div> - -<div class="footnote"> - -<p><a name="Footnote_39_39" id="Footnote_39_39"></a><a href="#FNanchor_39_39"><span class="label">[39]</span></a> <i>Das Lichtreine.</i></p></div> - -<div class="footnote"> - -<p><a name="Footnote_40_40" id="Footnote_40_40"></a><a href="#FNanchor_40_40"><span class="label">[40]</span></a> Except in the conceptions of the Hebrew prophets this is -only true subject to qualification even of the God of Israel. For he -was evidently associated with the thunder, to take but one case—the -deliverance of the tables of stone on Sinai.</p></div> - -<div class="footnote"> - -<p><a name="Footnote_41_41" id="Footnote_41_41"></a><a href="#FNanchor_41_41"><span class="label">[41]</span></a> <i>Phantasie</i> may often be translated by the word -imagination, but here the element of caprice and dependence on sensuous -image rather than creative impulse directed by a principle of selection -is to be emphasized.</p></div> - -<div class="footnote"> - -<p><a name="Footnote_42_42" id="Footnote_42_42"></a><a href="#FNanchor_42_42"><span class="label">[42]</span></a> <i>Ein Taumel</i>, <i>i.e.</i>, the dance as of intoxication.</p></div> - -<div class="footnote"> - -<p><a name="Footnote_43_43" id="Footnote_43_43"></a><a href="#FNanchor_43_43"><span class="label">[43]</span></a> This is obviously a difficult passage to follow. The -main thing to remember is that Hegel is here describing the movement -of a dialectical process, that is the purely objective, rather than -the point of view of personal or even national experience. Such vivid -expressions as <i>Taumel</i> and <i>schamlos hineinrücken</i> remind one of the -Platonic dialectic.</p></div> - -<div class="footnote"> - -<p><a name="Footnote_44_44" id="Footnote_44_44"></a><a href="#FNanchor_44_44"><span class="label">[44]</span></a> Hegel's editor has Brahman here, but according to a -passage lower down (p. 59) it should rather be Brahmâ.</p></div> - -<div class="footnote"> - -<p><a name="Footnote_45_45" id="Footnote_45_45"></a><a href="#FNanchor_45_45"><span class="label">[45]</span></a> <i>Hinaufschrauben</i>, lit., a screwing up to—a screwing -that in fact crews the head off.</p></div> - -<div class="footnote"> - -<p><a name="Footnote_46_46" id="Footnote_46_46"></a><a href="#FNanchor_46_46"><span class="label">[46]</span></a> <i>Verdumpfens.</i> Either Hegel wrote <i>Verdummens</i>, or more -probably <i>Verdampfens.</i> The idea of "becoming mouldy" makes no sense.</p></div> - -<div class="footnote"> - -<p><a name="Footnote_47_47" id="Footnote_47_47"></a><a href="#FNanchor_47_47"><span class="label">[47]</span></a> This I think is the sense, though Hegel expresses it by -using words such as <i>das Personificieren und Vermenschlichen</i>, and -lower down <i>das Subjektiviren.</i> But previously he has rather contrasted -that false kind of personification which seeks for the significant -in the expression of the subject, his deeds and acts, rather than in -grasping the motive centre of personality, the subjective principle -itself, and it appears more intelligible in a passage, which is -sufficiently hard to follow in any ease, to preserve that contrast.</p></div> - -<div class="footnote"> - -<p><a name="Footnote_48_48" id="Footnote_48_48"></a><a href="#FNanchor_48_48"><span class="label">[48]</span></a> There is apparently only one ring and sceptre, but the -words used are capable of the interpretation that would attach one for -each of the hands.</p></div> - -<div class="footnote"> - -<p><a name="Footnote_49_49" id="Footnote_49_49"></a><a href="#FNanchor_49_49"><span class="label">[49]</span></a> Hegel cites Wilson's Lexicon, <i>s.v.</i> 2.</p></div> - -<div class="footnote"> - -<p><a name="Footnote_50_50" id="Footnote_50_50"></a><a href="#FNanchor_50_50"><span class="label">[50]</span></a> <i>Dem Rhythmus nach</i>, that is, the Hindoo conception -is entirely superficial, and expresses rather a rhythmic order than -a profound spiritual truth which this number expresses, a truth -which as Hegel has previously observed may be expressed under other -determinations than the numerical.</p></div> - -<div class="footnote"> - -<p><a name="Footnote_51_51" id="Footnote_51_51"></a><a href="#FNanchor_51_51"><span class="label">[51]</span></a> <i>Unstätigkeit</i>, instability, flightiness, detachment from -a fundamental principle.</p></div> - -<div class="footnote"> - -<p><a name="Footnote_52_52" id="Footnote_52_52"></a><a href="#FNanchor_52_52"><span class="label">[52]</span></a> That is Brahmâ apparently.</p></div> - -<div class="footnote"> - -<p><a name="Footnote_53_53" id="Footnote_53_53"></a><a href="#FNanchor_53_53"><span class="label">[53]</span></a> The order of the words would strictly mean that the sons -were in the pitchers and it is quite possible that this is the meaning.</p></div> - -<div class="footnote"> - -<p><a name="Footnote_54_54" id="Footnote_54_54"></a><a href="#FNanchor_54_54"><span class="label">[54]</span></a> That is, in Greek cosmogony.</p></div> - -<div class="footnote"> - -<p><a name="Footnote_55_55" id="Footnote_55_55"></a><a href="#FNanchor_55_55"><span class="label">[55]</span></a> What: <i>Centimanen</i> refers to I do not know, possibly a -name for Arges, Ceropes, and Brontes.</p></div> - -<div class="footnote"> - -<p><a name="Footnote_56_56" id="Footnote_56_56"></a><a href="#FNanchor_56_56"><span class="label">[56]</span></a> The sense is "which is not merely (to take the obvious -case of opposition which is, however, <i>not</i> the one here described) -totally outside the Absolute and incidental to," etc. Hegel's words -would admit of the interpretation that this was part of the conception -he is describing. But this is obviously not so, for, in that case, the -negative would be ascribed to both the Absolute and the "other God."</p></div> - -<div class="footnote"> - -<p><a name="Footnote_57_57" id="Footnote_57_57"></a><a href="#FNanchor_57_57"><span class="label">[57]</span></a> <i>Ist Unterscheiden</i>, is that which involves -differentiation. To posit a quality is to distinguish from other -qualities. A fundamental, aspect of Hegelian logic.</p></div> - -<div class="footnote"> - -<p><a name="Footnote_58_58" id="Footnote_58_58"></a><a href="#FNanchor_58_58"><span class="label">[58]</span></a> <i>Glied</i>, part of one organic totality.</p></div> - -<div class="footnote"> - -<p><a name="Footnote_59_59" id="Footnote_59_59"></a><a href="#FNanchor_59_59"><span class="label">[59]</span></a> Hegel uses an expression somewhat similar to Milton's -"Among the faithless faithful only he." <i>Den Bisherigen</i> refers -primarily, of course, to the Persian and Hindoo peoples.</p></div> - -<div class="footnote"> - -<p><a name="Footnote_60_60" id="Footnote_60_60"></a><a href="#FNanchor_60_60"><span class="label">[60]</span></a> <i>Wie des Innern überhaupt</i>, <i>i.e.</i>, the Inward with its -significance as the Absolute.</p></div> - - -<div class="footnote"> - -<p><a name="Footnote_61_61" id="Footnote_61_61"></a><a href="#FNanchor_61_61"><span class="label">[61]</span></a> <i>In seiner Abgeschiedenheit vom Leben</i>. In other words -the corpse was preserved as still the only appropriate external form of -Life. Though Hegel separates the two aspects of Egyptian belief they -were necessary concomitants of each other.</p></div> - -<div class="footnote"> - -<p><a name="Footnote_62_62" id="Footnote_62_62"></a><a href="#FNanchor_62_62"><span class="label">[62]</span></a> I have translated <i>Innerem</i> here by "soul," but it -expresses of course too much if taken strictly in its most personal -sense.</p></div> - -<div class="footnote"> - -<p><a name="Footnote_63_63" id="Footnote_63_63"></a><a href="#FNanchor_63_63"><span class="label">[63]</span></a> <i>Aberglaube</i>, not "superstition" so much as belief that -is intuitive, not rationally deduced. The emphasis is on <i>ahnt.</i></p></div> - -<div class="footnote"> - -<p><a name="Footnote_64_64" id="Footnote_64_64"></a><a href="#FNanchor_64_64"><span class="label">[64]</span></a> Hegel puts it in the rather obscure and contradictory way -that the human figure is represented as "still <i>having</i> the most unique -form of subjective intensity (<i>Das eigenste Innre der Subjectivität</i>) -outside it."</p></div> - -<div class="footnote"> - -<p><a name="Footnote_65_65" id="Footnote_65_65"></a><a href="#FNanchor_65_65"><span class="label">[65]</span></a> That is, the mythological history of the God.</p></div> - -<div class="footnote"> - -<p><a name="Footnote_66_66" id="Footnote_66_66"></a><a href="#FNanchor_66_66"><span class="label">[66]</span></a> Lit., "Which alone is able to apply itself (that is, to -the work of interpretation) in a variety of directions."</p> - -<hr class="chap" /> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_85" id="Page_85">[Pg 85]</a></span></p></div> - - - - -<h5>CHAPTER II</h5> - - -<h4>THE SYMBOLISM OF THE SUBLIME</h4> - - -<p>The perspicuity that has no riddles to expound, which is the object -of symbolic art and veritably the mark of Spirit self-clothed to the -perfect measure of its own substance, can only be attained on condition -that first and foremost the significance be presented to consciousness -distinct and separate from all the phenomena of external existence. -To the union of both immediately envisaged we have traced the absence -of art among the ancient Parsees. The contradiction involved in their -severation, followed by the association which it then stimulated -under the mode of immediacy, was the source of the fantastic type of -Hindoo symbolism. Finally, we have seen that in Egypt, too, the free -and unfettered recognition of the Inward principle and a significance -essentially independent from the phenomenon was lacking; and this -resulted in the mystery and obscurity of a symbolism still more -complete.</p> - -<p>The first decisive act of purification, or, in other words, express -separation of the essential substance<a name="FNanchor_67_67" id="FNanchor_67_67"></a><a href="#Footnote_67_67" class="fnanchor">[67]</a> from the sensuous present, -that is from the empirical facts of external appearance, we must -accordingly seek for in the Sublime, which exalts the Absolute above -every form of immediate existence, and thereby effects that initiatory -mode of its abstract liberation which is the basis of the spiritual -content. As Spirit in its concreteness the significance is not yet -apprehended; but it is, however, conceived as an Inwardness essentially -existent, reposing on its own resources, and of such a nature that -purely finite phenomena are alone inadequate to express its truth.</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_86" id="Page_86">[Pg 86]</a></span></p> - -<p>Kant has raised a very interesting distinction between the idea of the -sublime and the beautiful; and indeed all that he discusses in the -first part of his critique of the Judgment from the twentieth section -to the end—in spite of its considerable prolixity and its reduction of -every form of determination to a fundamentally subjective principle, -whether it be the content of feeling, imagination, or reason—still -possesses a real interest. We may in fact recognize this very reduction -on the ground of its general principle of relation to be just<a name="FNanchor_68_68" id="FNanchor_68_68"></a><a href="#Footnote_68_68" class="fnanchor">[68]</a>; in -other words, to borrow Kant's own expressions, if the matter of our -consideration is primarily the Sublime in Nature, it is not in any fact -of Nature, but only in the content of our emotional life that such a -Sublime is to be discovered, and, further, only in so far as we are -conscious of a Nature peculiar to ourselves which involves the added -assumption of one that lies outside of us. The statement of Kant is -to be taken in this sense where he says: "The true sublime cannot be -enclosed in any sensuous form; it is only referable to the ideas of -reason, which, albeit no truly adequate representation can be given -them, are excited and awakened to life within the human soul by just -this very incompatibility of the permissibly sensuous representation -with its object<a name="FNanchor_69_69" id="FNanchor_69_69"></a><a href="#Footnote_69_69" class="fnanchor">[69]</a>." The sublime is, in short, generally the attempt -to express the infinite, without being able to find an object in -the realm of phenomenal existence such as is clearly fitted for its -representation. The infinite, for the very reason that it is posited -independently as invisible and formless significance in contrast to -the complex manifold of objective fact, and is conceived under the -mode of inwardness, so long as it remains infinite remains indefinable -in speech and sublimely unaffected by every expression of the finite -categories.</p> - -<p>The earliest content, then, which the significance secures at this -stage consists in this, that in contrast to the totality<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_87" id="Page_87">[Pg 87]</a></span> of the -phenomenal it is the essentially substantive <i>One</i>, which itself being -pure Thought is only present to thought in its purity. Consequently -it is no longer possible to inform this substance under the mode -of externality, and to that extent all real symbolical character -disappears. If, however, an attempt is made to envisage this essential -unity for sense-perception, such is only possible under a mode of -relation according to which, while retaining its substantive character, -it is further apprehended as the creative force of everything external, -in which it therefore discovers a means of revelation and appearance, -and with which it is accordingly joined in a positive relation. At the -same time it is an essential feature in the expressed content of this -relation that this substance is asserted above all particular phenomena -as such, no less than above their united manifold; from which it then -follows as a still more consequential result that the positive relation -is deposed for one that is <i>negative</i>; and the negative consists in -this that a purification of the substance is thus effected from the -phenomenal taken as any particular thing, that is, in other words, that -which is also not appropriate to it and which vanishes within it.</p> - -<p>This mode of giving form, which is annihilated by the very thing which -it would set forth, so that it comes about that the exposition of -content affirms itself as that which renders the exposition null and -void is in fact the <i>Sublime.</i> We have therefore not, as we found to be -the view of Kant, to refer the Sublime exclusively to the subjective -content of the soul, and the ideas of reason which belong to it, but -rather form our conception of it as having its fundamental source -in the significance represented, in other words the one absolute -substance. We must, then, further deduce our classification of the -art-type of the Sublime from this twofold relation of the substantive -unity regarded as significance to the phenomenal world.</p> - -<p>The characteristic which is held in common by both aspects of this -relation, whether we view it positively or negatively, consists in this -that the substance is posited above the particular appearance, in which -it is assumed to have found a representation, although it can only be -declared thereby under the form of a relation to the phenomenal in its -general terms, for the reason that as substance and<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_88" id="Page_88">[Pg 88]</a></span> ultimate essence -it is itself essentially without form and out of the reach of concrete -external existence. We may describe <i>pantheistic</i> art as the first or -affirmative mode of conception at this stage, a type of conception -which we come across partly in India, and also to some extent in the -liberal atmosphere and mysticism of the more modern poets of Persian -Mohammedanism, and finally in the still profounder intensity of thought -and emotion which characterizes it when it reappears in western -Christianity.</p> - -<p>Generally, defined substance is cognized at this stage as immanent in -all its created accidents, which for this reason are not as yet deposed -to a mere relation of service, viewed simply, that is, as an ornament -of glory to the Absolute, but are affirmatively conserved by virtue -of the indwelling substance; and this is so albeit it is the One and -the Divine alone which is set forth and exalted in all particularity. -By this means the poet, who contemplates and reveres this unity in -all things, and sinks his own individuality, no less than every other -object in this contemplation, is able to maintain a positive relation -to the substance, with which he associates all other objects.</p> - -<p>The <i>second</i> or <i>negative</i> celebration of the Power and Glory of the -one God is that genuine type of Sublimity which we find in Hebrew -poetry. In this the positive immanence of the Absolute in the created -phenomena is done away with, and in place thereof we have the <i>one</i> -substance independently affirmed as sovereign Lord of the world, who -subsists over against the universe of His creations, which are posited -under a relation to this Supreme Being of essential and evanescent -powerlessness. If under such a view any representation is attempted of -the Power and Wisdom of this Unity under the form of the finite objects -of Nature and human destinies, we find nothing here that resembles the -Hindoo's distortion of such objects by the unlimited accretion to their -measure. The Sublimity of God is rather brought home to our senses by -means of a representation whose entire object is to show us that all -that exists in definite guise, with all its splendour, embellishment -and glory, is a loyal accident in His service, a show that vanishes -before the Divine essence and consistency.</p> - -<hr class="chap" /> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_89" id="Page_89">[Pg 89]</a></span></p> - - - - -<h6>A. THE PANTHEISM OF ART</h6> - - -<p>Anyone who makes use of the word pantheism nowadays exposes himself -thereby to the grossest misunderstanding. For, to take but one aspect -of the difficulty, this word "all" signifies generally in our modern -acceptation of the term "all, and everything in its wholly empirical -particularity." We have at once recalled to us, for example, this -particular box with all its attributes, its specific colour, size, -form and weight, or that particular house, book, animal, table, -stool, oven, streak of cloud and so on, to the end of the list. When -we consequently find the charge advanced by not a few of our modern -theologians against philosophy, that it makes a God of everything in -general, it is quite obvious that this "everything" is taken in the -sense we have just adverted to, and this it is which is thus bodily -thrust upon her shoulders. In one word the complaint which attaches -to it is absolutely unwarranted. Such a conception of pantheism only -exists in the heads of stupidity, and is not discoverable in any form -of religion whatever, not even in those of the Iroquois and Esquimaux, -to say nothing of any philosophy. The "Everything" in what has been -termed pantheism is therefore neither this nor that particular thing, -but rather "Everything" in the sense of the "<i>All</i>," that is the One -substantive essence, which no doubt is immanent in particular things, -but is cognized in abstraction from their singularity and its empirical -reality, so that it is not the particular as such, but the universal -animating essence or soul, or to adopt a more popular way of speaking, -it is the true and the excellent, both equally a real presence in this -particular thing, which are here affirmed and indicated.</p> - -<p>This it is which constitutes the real meaning of pantheism, and we -shall only have occasion now to employ the expression in this sense. It -applies first and foremost to the Orient, whose type of conception is -based on the thought of an absolute unity of Godhead and of everything -else as subsisting in this Unity. As such Unity and All the Divine -can only be presented to consciousness by means of the ever recurrent -evanescence of the limited number of particular objects, in which -its Presence is expressed. On the one<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_90" id="Page_90">[Pg 90]</a></span> hand we have here the Divine -envisaged as immanent in the most diverse objects, whether it be life -or death, mountain or sea, and with still closer intimacy no doubt -as the most excellent and pre-eminent among and in all determinate -existence. On the other hand, inasmuch as the One is this and again -that other and that other beyond it, and in short is discharged into -everything, all particular existence appears for that reason to be -a thing which is cancelled and vanishes, for no particular is alone -this One, but this One is this manifold of particulars which pass away -before semi-perception, as such particulars into the universe which -comprises them. For if the One is Life, it is also at another point -Death, and is to that extent not merely life, so that it is neither -as life nor the sun nor the sea that these or any other objective -realities constitute the Divine and One. At the same time we do not -find here, as in the genuine type of the Sublime, that the accidental -is expressly posited in the negative relation of mere service. So -far from this being so, substance is essentially identified with one -particular and accidental existence, inasmuch as it is this One in -everything. Conversely, however, this very particular, because it -is equally subject to change, and the imagination does not restrict -substance to one definite existence, but moves over every definition, -letting it fall that it may advance to another, is thereby relegated -in its turn to the accidental, over which the One is superposed in the -sublimity thus conjoined with it.</p> - -<p>Such a way of viewing existence therefore can only be expressed in art -through poetry; the plastic arts are closed to it, inasmuch as they -bring before the vision the definite and particular, which in their -contrast to the substance present in the objects of Nature has to be -given up in a determinate and persistent form. Where we find pantheism -in its purity no plastic art is found as a mode of its presentation.</p> - -<p>1. Once more we may adduce, as a first example of such pantheistic -poetry, the literature of the Hindoos, which along with its fantastic -symbolism has also elaborated the type of art under discussion with -distinction. In other words the Hindoo race, as we have seen, proceed -in their conceptions from the point of most abstract universality and -unity, which is then carried forward to the specific<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_91" id="Page_91">[Pg 91]</a></span> shaping of gods -such as Trimûrtis, Indras, and the rest. This process of definition, -however, is not adhered to with constancy; but to a like extent is -suffered once more to break up, so that we find inferior gods are -absorbed in superior gods, and the highest of all in Brahman. From -this it is sufficiently obvious that this Universal constitutes the -one persistent and unalterable basis of all. And if, as we freely -admit, the Hindoos evince the twofold impulse in their poetry, namely, -either to exaggerate the particular existence, in order that it may -appear to the senses compatible with the significance of the Absolute, -or, in the converse case, to suffer every form of definition to pass -as mere negation when contrasted with the one abstraction of Being, -yet at the same time there is another aspect of their literature, in -which we also find artistic representation under the purer mode of -imaginative pantheism we have just described, a mode in which the -immanence of the Divine is exalted above all particular existence -in which it is presented to sense and which as such disappears. We -may no doubt be rather inclined to recognize in this later mode of -conception a certain similarity with that type of the immediate unity -of pure thought which we found to be characteristic of the religious -consciousness of the Parsees. Among the Parsees, however, the One -and Excellent is conserved in its independence as itself a fact of -Nature, that is, Light. With the Hindoos, on the contrary, the One, -or Brahman, is merely the formless One; and this it is which in its -transformations through the infinite variety of the phenomenal world, -first gives rise to the pantheistic mode of representation. So we read -of <i>Krishna</i> (<i>Bhagavad-Gita</i>, Lect. VII, II. 4 <i>et seq.</i>): "Earth, -water and wind, air and fire, reason and egoity are the eight pieces -of my essential force; yet knowest thou somewhat more in me, a more -exalted essence, which animates the earthly and supports the world. In -it all existences have their origin. Ay, verily, thou knowest I am the -origin of the entire universe as also its annihilation. Aught higher -than myself is not; in me is this All conjoined together, as a chaplet -of pearls on a thread. I am the taste of sweetness in all that flows; -I am the splendour in the sun and moon, the mystic Word in the sacred -writings, manhood in man, the clean savour in the<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_92" id="Page_92">[Pg 92]</a></span> Earth, brightness -in flame, in all Being Life, meditation in all who repent. In that -which has Life the Power of Life, in the wise Wisdom, in the glorious -Glory. Everything that is true of its kind, and everything that is -specious and obscure proceeds out of me. I am not in them, but they are -in me. Through the illusion of these three qualities all the world is -made foolish, and knows me not who am unalterable. Moreover also the -Divine illusion, even Mâya, is my own illusion, which is hard indeed to -surpass, albeit all who follow after me step over this illusion." In -this passage we have indicated in the most striking terms just such a -substantive unity as the one above discussed, not merely from the point -of view of its immanence in immediate sense, but also from that of its -advance beyond and over all singularity.</p> - -<p>In a similar manner <i>Krishna</i> affirms of himself that He is the most -Excellent among all the different forms of existence (Lect. X, 21): -"Among the star's I am the radiant sun, among the human signs the -moon, among the sacred Books the Book of Hymns, among the senses -the spiritual, Meru among the tops of the mountains, the lion among -animals, the vowel A among all letters, among the seasons of the year -the blooming spring-time, etc."</p> - -<p>This enumeration, however, of superlative excellence, and we may add -the description of that which is merely a change of forms, among -which it is always one and the same thing that is envisaged, despite -any superficial appearance such may give us at first of a prodigal -imagination, is none the less, by reason of this very equality of -content, extremely monotonous and in general empty and tedious.</p> - -<p>2. Under a higher mode and in a freer manner from the subjective point -of view we find, <i>secondly</i>, oriental pantheism is elaborated in -Mohammedanism more particularly among the <i>Persians.</i></p> - -<p>And here we are confronted with a relation of some singularity when we -direct our attention expressly to the point of view of the individual -poet.</p> - -<p>(<i>a</i>) To explain this more fully we would point out that so long as -the poet yearns to behold the Divine in everything, and really so -beholds it, he also surrenders his own personality; but, while doing -so, he realizes quite as vividly the immanence of the Divine in his -spiritual world thus<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_93" id="Page_93">[Pg 93]</a></span> expanded and delivered; and consequently there -grows up within him that joyful ardour of the soul, that liberal -happiness, that revel of bliss, which is so peculiar to the Oriental, -who in freeing himself from his own particularity seems wholly to -sink himself in the Eternal and Absolute, and henceforth to know -and feel the image and presence of the Divine in all things. Such a -self-absorption in the Divine, such an intoxicated life of bliss in -God borders closely on mysticism. Under this aspect no volume is more -famous than the Oschelaleddin-Rumi, of which Rückert, with the help of -his marvellous powers of expression, which enable him to make light of -both words and rhymes with all the wealth and freedom of the phantasy -that comes so natural to the Persian poet, has supplied us with the -fairest examples. Love to God, with whom man identifies himself in most -boundless surrender, beholding Him as the One through every part of His -Universe, with whom and to whom every and each thing is related and -referred—this it is that gives us the focus of this type of thought, a -centre which radiates in every direction.</p> - -<p>(<i>b</i>) And, further, while in the true type of the sublime, as will -appear shortly, the most excellent objects and the most glorious -shapes are employed merely as the ornament of God, and as servants to -celebrate the splendour and majesty of the One, being set before our -eyes to do Him honour as Lord of all creation, in pantheism, on the -contrary, it is the immanence of the Divine in external fact which -exalts the determinate existence itself of the world, Nature, and -humanity to its own self-substantial glory. The identical Life of -Spirit in the phenomena of Nature and all human relations animates and -spiritualizes the same in their own nature, and is further the source -of that characteristic attitude of subjective feeling in the soul of -the poet toward the objects he celebrates in his song. Suffused with -the animating influx of this glory the soul is essentially serene, -independent, free, secure in its comprehension and greatness; and -in this positive identification of itself with such qualities it -penetrates imaginatively with its life into the very heart of objective -existence, sharing the restful unity that it finds there, and grows up -in most blissful, most blithesome intimacy with the natural world and -its munificence, with<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_94" id="Page_94">[Pg 94]</a></span> the drinking-booth no less than the beloved, -and, in short, all that is held worthy of praise or affection. We find, -no doubt, the same kind of self-absorption in the romantic temperament -of the West. Generally speaking, however, and more particularly in -the North, it is not so gladsome, spontaneous, or free from yearning; -or, at least, it remains more exclusively shut up in itself, and is -consequently selfish and sentimental. A spiritual mood of this type, in -its depression and gloom, finds its most forceful outlet in the popular -songs of barbarous peoples. The spontaneous and joyful emotional -atmosphere is, on the contrary, congenial to the East, and particularly -characteristic of the Mohammedan Persians, who openly and gladly -surrender themselves with all their soul to the Divine influence, and -indeed to everything that appears to merit such devotion, while they -do not fail to retain the freedom of independence in such surrender, -and consciously to preserve the same in their attitude to the world and -all that surrounds them. We may, in fact, observe in the ardour of this -passion, the most expansive ecstasy and parrhesia<a name="FNanchor_70_70" id="FNanchor_70_70"></a><a href="#Footnote_70_70" class="fnanchor">[70]</a> of the emotional -life, through which, in its inexhaustible wealth of gorgeous and -splendid images, one emphatic note of joy, beauty, and happiness rings -again and again. If the Oriental suffers or is unfortunate he takes -his reverses as the unalterable fiat of Destiny, and falls back upon -the strength of his own resources without any increase of depression, -sensitiveness, or vexation of spirit. In the poetry of Hafis we hear -often enough of the lover's woes and laments<a name="FNanchor_71_71" id="FNanchor_71_71"></a><a href="#Footnote_71_71" class="fnanchor">[71]</a>, as of many another -kind, but our poet persists through grief, no less than in happiness, -as free of care as ever. This is the mood of that sometime refrain:</p> - -<p> -<span style="margin-left: 2.5em;">For thanks, in that the present glow</span><br /> -<span style="margin-left: 3.5em;">Of friendship circles thee,</span><br /> -<span style="margin-left: 2.5em;">Light strong the taper e'en in woe,</span><br /> -<span style="margin-left: 3.5em;">And joyful be.</span><br /> -</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_95" id="Page_95">[Pg 95]</a></span></p> - -<p>The taper teaches us both to laugh and to weep; it laughs through the -flame of shining merriment, albeit it melts at the same time in hot -tears; in the act of consumption it spreads wide the brightness of -joviality. This is also the general character throughout of this type -of poetry.</p> - -<p>Among the objects frequently referred to in Persian poetry we -may mention flowers and jewels, and, above all, the rose and the -nightingale. It is a matter of frequent occurrence to represent the -nightingale as bridegroom of the rose. This gift of personality to the -rose and love to the nightingale may be abundantly illustrated from -Hafis. "Out of gratefulness, O rose," he sings, "that thou art the -sultana of Beauty, see to it that thou settest not a proud face to the -love of the nightingale." The poet himself speaks of the nightingale -of his own soul. When we of the West, on the contrary, refer in our -poetry to roses, nightingales, or wine, and such matters, we do so in -a wise much nearer to prose. The rose merely serves us for ornament, -as in the expression, among others, "garlanded with roses." If we -listen to the nightingale it is but to follow the bird with our own -emotions; we think of the grape-juice, and call it "the breaker of -our cares." Among the Persians, however, the rose is no mere image or -ornament, no symbol, but itself appears to the poet as possessed with a -soul, as loving bride, and he transpierces with his spirit the rose's -very heart. Precisely the same character of a gorgeous Pantheism is -still impressed on the most modern Persian poems. Herr von Hammer, for -instance, has given us a description of a poem which was forwarded, -among other gifts of the Shah, to the Emperor Francis in the year 1819. -It contains an account of the exploits of the Shah in 33,000 distiches, -who made a present of his own name to the Court poet in question.</p> - -<p>(<i>c</i>) Goethe, too—here in contrast with the more perturbed atmosphere -and the concentrated emotion of the poetry of his youth—was carried -away in advanced age by the breadth of this careless and blithesome -spirit; and though already a veteran, swept through by the breath -of the East, dedicated the evening glow of his poetic passion, in a -flood of extraordinary fervour to this freedom of emotion which, even<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_96" id="Page_96">[Pg 96]</a></span> -where controversy is the sub ect-matter, still retains the beauty of -its careless temper. The songs of his Westöstlicher Divan, are by no -means the mere play of trivial social urbanities, but originate in a -precisely similar spirit of free and unrestrained emotion. In a song of -his to Suleica they are thus described by himself:</p> - -<p> -<span style="margin-left: 2.5em;">Pearls from the poet,</span><br /> -<span style="margin-left: 2.5em;">Thine is the treasure,</span><br /> -<span style="margin-left: 2.5em;">Thine was the big swell</span><br /> -<span style="margin-left: 2.5em;">Of passion tumultuous,</span><br /> -<span style="margin-left: 2.5em;">Which strewed them on desolate</span><br /> -<span style="margin-left: 2.5em;">Strand of his life.</span><br /> -<span style="margin-left: 2.5em;">Gold-tips I call it,</span><br /> -<span style="margin-left: 2.5em;">Pierced with bright jewels,</span><br /> -<span style="margin-left: 2.5em;">Tenderly conned o'er</span><br /> -<span style="margin-left: 2.5em;">By tapering fingers.</span><br /> -</p> - -<p>"Take them," he exclaims to his beloved:</p> - -<p> -<span style="margin-left: 2.5em;">Circle thy neck with them,</span><br /> -<span style="margin-left: 2.5em;">Close, close to thy breast!</span><br /> -<span style="margin-left: 2.5em;">These raindrops of Allah</span><br /> -<span style="margin-left: 2.5em;">The meek shell hath ripened.</span><br /> -</p> - -<p>Poetry such as this is the product of an experience of the widest -range, a sense which has held its own in many storms, a depth and also, -too, a youth of the heart—in other words:</p> - -<p> -<span style="margin-left: 2.5em;">World of Life's own drift of forces,</span><br /> -<span style="margin-left: 2.5em;">World, the wealth of whose wave-roll</span><br /> -<span style="margin-left: 2.5em;">Caught afar the bulbul's passion,</span><br /> -<span style="margin-left: 2.5em;">Won the song which shook the soul.</span><br /> -</p> - -<p>3. In this unity of pantheism, moreover, if emphasized in its relation -to <i>personal</i> life, which feels itself united with God thereby, and -the Divine as this presence intuitively cognized, we have, speaking -generally, that type of <i>mysticism</i> which, under this more intimate -mode, has also been elaborated in the pale of Christendom. We will -adduce but one example, namely, that of Angelus Silecius, who, with the -greatest audacity and depth of conception and emotional fervour, has -expressed the essential presence of<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_97" id="Page_97">[Pg 97]</a></span> God in objective Nature, the union -of the self with God, and the Divine with human personality, with an -extraordinary power of mystical presentment. The more genuine type of -Oriental pantheism, on the contrary, is inclined to insist more upon -the vision of the One substance in all phenomena and the self-surrender -of the individual, who thereby secures the most supreme expansion of -conscious life no less than the bliss of absorption into all that is -most noble and excellent by virtue of the absolute release from all -finitude.</p> - -<h6>B. THE ART OF SUBLIMITY</h6> - -<p>The One substance, however, which is here conceived as the real -significance of the entire universe, is only truly posited as -<i>substance</i> where we find it suffered to retire into itself as pure -Inwardness and substantive Power out of its presence and realization -beneath the shifting forms of the phenomenal, and thereby is <i>set -forth</i> in self-consistency as against all finitude. It is not till -we come to this intuitive vision of the essence of God as absolutely -Spiritual and apart from all image, and thus opposed to the things of -the World and Nature, that the Spiritual is completely wrested from all -that pertains to mere sense-perception and Nature, and delivered from -determinate existence in the finite. While conversely, however, the -absolute substance still maintains a relation to the phenomenal world -from which it is reflected back upon itself. In this relation is now -asserted that <i>negative</i> aspect already adverted to, which consists -in this, that the entire universe, despite all the fulness, power, -and glory of its phenomenal contents, is expressly affirmed in its -relation to substance as that which is essentially of a purely negative -subsistence, a creation of God, subject to His power and service. The -world is therefore envisaged as the revelation of God, and He is the -<i>Goodness</i> which permits the created thing that has no essential claim -to exist, none the less to exist in relation to Himself, nay, further -to have independent existence and<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_98" id="Page_98">[Pg 98]</a></span> thereby freely to conserve Him. This -conservation on the part of the finitude, however, is without real -substance, and in opposition to God the creature is here assumed to -be that which passes away and is powerless, so that at the same time -its <i>claim to existence</i><a name="FNanchor_72_72" id="FNanchor_72_72"></a><a href="#Footnote_72_72" class="fnanchor">[72]</a> is exhibited as a part of the goodness of -the Creator, which not only veritably affirms the impotence of that -which is essentially nothing apart from Himself, but thereby asserts -His substance as the source of all Power. It is this relation, so far -as it is set forth by art as the fundamental relation, both of content -and form, which brings before us the art-type of the real <i>Sublime.</i> -The Beauty of the Ideal and Sublimity no doubt present features of -contrast. In the Ideal the Inward transpierces external reality, whose -inward essence it really is under the mode at least, that both aspects -are adequate to each other, and consequently appear to be in perfect -fusion with one another. In the Sublime, on the contrary, the external -existence, in which substance is envisaged for sense, is deposed -in its opposition to that substance, such deposition and vassalage -constituting the only mode, by means of which the God who is in His own -seclusion without form, and in His positive essence incapable of being -expressed by aught that is of the world and finite, can be envisualized -by artistic means. The Sublime pre-supposes the significance in the -self-subsistence of One, in relation to which externality is defined as -in subjection, in so far as that Inward substance fails to appear, but -its transcendent character is so asserted, that in the end nothing can -be represented save just this essential and active transcendency<a name="FNanchor_73_73" id="FNanchor_73_73"></a><a href="#Footnote_73_73" class="fnanchor">[73]</a>.</p> - -<p>In the symbol the mode of the <i>external form</i> was the main point -emphasized. It must possess a significance, and yet fail completely -to express it. In contrast to symbol of this kind and its obscure -content we have now a <i>significance</i> in the absolute sense of the -term conjoined with its full<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_99" id="Page_99">[Pg 99]</a></span> recognition. A work of art is now the -actual discharge of pure essence conceived as the intensive purport of -everything, of an essence, however, which deliberately affirms that -very incompatibility of form to significance, which was only implicitly -present in the symbol, to be the actually transcendent significance of -God Himself within the sphere of worldly existence, and above all that -is contained therein.</p> - -<p>It is a significance which is therefore sublime in the work of art, -which is exclusively concerned to express the same as thus explicitly -declared. We may no doubt with justice accept the description of -"<i>sacred</i>," as applicable generally to symbolical art, in so far as it -accepts the Divine as comprised in the content of its productions; but -the art of the Sublime alone can make good its claim to the distinction -without any deduction, for it is here alone that God receives all the -honour. In this sphere, owing to the fundamental character of the -significance implied, the content is generally of a more restricted -nature than that we find in genuine symbolism, whose relation to -the Spiritual is that of an effort and nothing more, and which in -the continuously shifting nature of its relations to to the world -offers such a wide field, either for transformations of that which is -spiritual into natural images, or of that which is essentially material -under accordant fusion with the Spirit.</p> - -<p>We find as nowhere else this art of the Sublime, as a mode of its -original appearance, in the religious conceptions of the Hebrew race -and their sacred poetry. We say poetry advisedly, because plastic art -cannot possibly be in question here, where it is assumed that no image -whatever is adequate to express the nature of the Divine, and that -the part of poetry alone by means of the spoken or written word can -be employed for such a purpose. A closer examination of this type of -religious conception will secure to us the following points of view -most worthy of our general attention.</p> - -<p>1. If we look at the content of this poetry under the aspect of its -most universal import, one of our first conclusions will be that God, -as Lord of a world created to serve Him, is not conceived as incarnated -in any form of the external, but rather as personality withdrawn -from all<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_100" id="Page_100">[Pg 100]</a></span> determinate and worldly existence into the solitude of His -pure Unity. For this reason that<a name="FNanchor_74_74" id="FNanchor_74_74"></a><a href="#Footnote_74_74" class="fnanchor">[74]</a> which in genuine symbolism was -still associated with supreme Unity, falls apart under the view we -are considering into its twofold aspect, on one side the abstract -subsistency of God, on the other the concrete existence of the world.</p> - -<p>(<i>a</i>) Now God Himself as this pure self-subsistency of the One -substance is essentially without form, and under this abstract -conception cannot be brought closer to the envisagement of sense. That -which therefore the imagination is able to seize at this stage is -not the Divine content viewed under the aspect of its pure essence, -inasmuch as this latter precludes the possibility of artistic -representation under any form adequate to it whatever. The only content -therefore that is left open to it is that of the <i>relation</i> of God to -His created world.</p> - -<p>(<i>b</i>) God is the creator of the universe. This is the purest expression -of the Sublime itself. In other words we find that here for the first -time all those fanciful conceptions of <i>generation</i> and purely physical -<i>procreation</i> of external fact by God disappear. Each and all give -place to the thought of creation by virtue of spiritual power and -activity. "God spake: Let there be Light, and there was Light." A -sentence dong ago cited, as a striking illustration of the Sublime by -Longinus. And such indeed it is. The Lord of all, the One substance, -proceeds, it is true, under the mode of self-expression; but the type -of this bringing forth is the purest, nay, a mode of expression, -aetherial so to speak, and without material form, the Word that is to -say, the medium of thought as the ideal Power, in conjunction with -whose mandate that it shall exist, the existing thing is veritably and -immediately posited under the relation of tacit obedience.</p> - -<p>(<i>c</i>) Into this created world, however, God is not conceived to pass -over as into His reality; rather He abides withdrawn behind Himself, -albeit this opposition supplies<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_101" id="Page_101">[Pg 101]</a></span> no secure ground for a logically -developed dualism. For that which has been brought into being is His -work, possesses no self-consistency as apart from Him. It is solely a -witness to <i>His</i> Wisdom, Goodness, and Justice in general, just that -and no more. The One is Lord over all; His dwelling is not in the facts -of Nature. They are solely the accidents of His Greatness, without -potency in themselves, which can indeed suffer the show of His essence -to appear, but are unable to make the reality of it visible<a name="FNanchor_75_75" id="FNanchor_75_75"></a><a href="#Footnote_75_75" class="fnanchor">[75]</a>. And -this it is which constitutes the Sublime in its reference to the Divine.</p> - -<p>2. Moreover, inasmuch as the one God is thus severed from the -concreteness of the phenomenal world and posited in isolated fixity, -while the externality of determinate existence is on its side defined -and placed in subordination as the finite, both natural and human -existence are now viewed under the novel aspect that they cannot be -conceived as manifesting the Divine without at the same time making -visible their essential finiteness.</p> - -<p>(<i>a</i>) The most direct way of bringing home to ourselves the -significance of the above contrasted relations may be expressed in the -statement that here for the first time we have Nature and the human -form set before us <i>cut off from the Divine</i>, prosaic fact in short. -It is a Greek tale that when the heroes of the Argonautic Expedition -passed in their ships through the straits of the Hellespont, the -rocks which hitherto had crashed open and shut like shears suddenly -came to a standstill rooted firmly for evermore in the ground. In a -manner somewhat similar the process of the finite toward stability in -intelligible definition, as contrasted with the infinite essence, moves -onward in the sacred poetry of the Sublime, while in the conceptions of -symbolism, where we have the finite overturned in the Divine and the -latter quite as frequently thrust forth from its own substance into -temporal existence, nothing is permitted to keep its due position. If -we turn, for example, from ancient Hindoo poetry to the Old Testament -we find ourselves at once in a<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_102" id="Page_102">[Pg 102]</a></span> totally different atmosphere, one -in which we feel ourselves thoroughly at home, however much we may -discover in the circumstances, events, actions, and characters an -environment either alien or different to that in which we live. From a -world of tumble and confusion we are transported to another, and have -human figures presented to us, which appear as natural as those we see -with our eyes, characters with the stable outlines of patriarchal life, -which in the truth of their delineation stand so near that they receive -an immediate assent from our intelligence.</p> - -<p>(<i>b</i>) In a general view of existence such as the above which is able -to grasp the natural process of life and to accept as valid the claim -of natural laws, <i>wonder</i> for the first time is a really active -force. In Hindooism everything is a wonder and consequently is no -longer wonderful. No wonder can enter a world where the intelligible -connection of facts is invariably broken, where everything is wrested -from its place and turned topsy-turvy. For the wonderful presupposes -the rational sequence of events no less than the clear perceptions of -ordinary consciousness which, when it meets with some example of causal -effect produced by a higher law breaking the customary chain of events -now for the first time notifies the exception as a wonder. Wonders of -this kind, however, are no real or specific expression of the Sublime, -for the reason that the ordinary course of natural phenomena is -conceived as quite as much the product of the Will of God and evidence -of Nature's submission as such interruption of the same.</p> - -<p>(<i>c</i>) We must rather look for the real Sublime in the fact that under -this view the entire created world is limited in time and space, with -no independent stability or consistency, and as such an adventitious -product which exists solely to celebrate the praise of Almighty God.</p> - -<p>3. This recognition of the nullity of objective fact and the exaltation -and extolment of God are at this stage the source of man's <i>own</i> -self-respect, and in these he looks for his own consolation and -satisfaction.</p> - -<p>(<i>a</i>) In this connection the Psalms supply us with classical examples -of the genuine Sublime, and are set forth as a precedent for all -times of what our humanity at the highest<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_103" id="Page_103">[Pg 103]</a></span> point of its spiritual -exultation has superbly expressed as the reflection of its religious -consciousness. Nothing in the world can here make good its claim to -independent subsistence, inasmuch as everything exists and subsists -simply through the Power of God, and only exists as in duty bound to -extol His mightiness no less than to acknowledge its own essential -nothingness. In the imagination of pantheism, which mainly unfolded in -the direction of material substance an infinite <i>extension</i> of range -was most remarkable: what we most are amazed at here is the power of -spiritual exaltation which suffers everything else to fall away that -it may declare the unique Almightiness of God. An extraordinarily -forceful illustration of this temper is the 104th Psalm, "The Light is -Thy mantle which Thou wearest; Thou spreadest out the heavens like a -carpet, etc." Light, heavens, clouds, the pinions of the winds, each -and all are here nothing by themselves, merely an external vesture, the -chariot or messenger in the service of God. A further expansion of the -same idea is the extolment of the Wisdom of God, which has ordained -all things. The springs, which leap from their sources, the waters, -which flow between the hills, by the banks of which the birds of the -air sit and carol among the branches; the grassy vine, which gladdens -the heart of men and the cedars of Lebanon which the Lord hath planted; -the sea, and its swarms without number; the whales which sport therein, -all these hath the Lord made. And all that God has created He also -preserves. "Thou hidest Thy Face, and they are affrighted; Thou takest -their breath away and they are gone and become again as dust." The 90th -Psalm, that prayer of Moses, the man of God, insists expressly on the -nothingness of man, where we read: "Thou sufferest them to pass away -like a brook; they are like as a sleep, even as the grass, which is -soon withered, and in the evening is cut down and dried up. Thy scorn -maketh us to pass away; Thou showest Thine anger and we are gone."</p> - -<p>(<i>b</i>) Two ideas are therefore associated together with the Sublime, -if viewed in its relation to the human soul, first, that of man's -finiteness, and secondly, that of the insurmountable aloofness of God.</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_104" id="Page_104">[Pg 104]</a></span></p> - -<p>(<i>α</i>) For this reason the idea of <i>immortality</i> is not to be found -where this mode of conception obtains in its original purity; for this -idea involves the assumption that the individual self, the soul, the -spirit of man is essentially a self-subsistent entity. In the religion -of the Sublime it is only the One that is apprehended as imperishable; -opposed to that all else merely subsists and passes away, is neither -essentially free nor infinite.</p> - -<p>(<i>β</i>) And, further, on a similar ground man is conceived in his -absolute <i>unworthiness</i> before God; his exaltation consists in the fear -of the Lord, in a trembling before His scorn. Over and over again, with -a directness which tears aside every veil and opens the very depths, we -have the cry of the soul to God depicted, the sorrow over the sense of -its nothingness, increasing lament and groanings unutterable.</p> - -<p>(<i>γ</i>) On the other hand if the individual persist in his finiteness of -opposition to God, this deliberately willed persistence is wickedness, -which as <i>evil</i> and <i>sin</i> belongs only to the natural and human -condition, and is conceived as remote from the One undifferentiated -substance as pain and everything else that is essentially negative.</p> - -<p>(<i>c</i>) <i>Thirdly</i>, however, within this very condition of spiritual -nakedness, and, in despite of it, man secures a freer and more -independent position. On the one hand out of the fundamental repose and -constancy of God viewed in reference to His Will and the commands which -that Will imposes upon humanity, arises the <i>Law</i>; while under another -point of view the wholly unambiguous distinction between that which is -human and that which is Divine, between the finite and the Absolute, is -implied in this type of human exaltation. Therewith the judgment upon -good and evil, and the onus of decision in respect to either the one or -the other is transferred to the individual soul itself. This relation -to the Absolute, and the question it involves as to the fittingness or -unfittingness of man over against the same presents, therefore, also -an aspect, which applies to the individual himself, his own behaviour -and action. In other words we may trace in man's rightful acts and his -following of the Law a relation to God which is, side by side with -the former one, an affirmative relation, a relation which has to<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_105" id="Page_105">[Pg 105]</a></span> -bring generally the external condition of his existence, whether it -be positive or negative, weal, enjoyment and satisfaction, or pain, -unhappiness and oppression into union with the obedience of his heart -or his stubbornness of spirit against the Law, and accept the same in -the one case as favour and reward, in the other as trial and punishment.</p> -<hr class="r5" /> -<div class="footnote"> - -<p><a name="Footnote_67_67" id="Footnote_67_67"></a><a href="#FNanchor_67_67"><span class="label">[67]</span></a> <i>Des An-und-für-sich-seyenden, i.e.</i>, the explicit -content of all that is implied in actuality cognized as an object in -itself.</p></div> - -<div class="footnote"> - -<p><a name="Footnote_68_68" id="Footnote_68_68"></a><a href="#FNanchor_68_68"><span class="label">[68]</span></a> According to Hegel the conception of Kant is right in -that (<i>a</i>) He makes the Sublime to consist in a relation between the -phenomenal fact and something which it is not; and (<i>b</i>) that he lays -it down that no mere representation by means of phenomenal form can -adequately express it. He is wrong, however, in that he refers the -Sublime for its source wholly to the subjective content, <i>i.e.</i>, that -Nature which is peculiar to ourselves (<i>in uns.</i>)</p></div> - -<div class="footnote"> - -<p><a name="Footnote_69_69" id="Footnote_69_69"></a><a href="#FNanchor_69_69"><span class="label">[69]</span></a> "Critique of the Judgment," 3rd ed., p. 77.</p></div> - -<div class="footnote"> - -<p><a name="Footnote_70_70" id="Footnote_70_70"></a><a href="#FNanchor_70_70"><span class="label">[70]</span></a> Parrhesia, <i>i.e.</i>, πἀρρἥσια,—speaking freely or beyond -ordinary bound.</p></div> - -<div class="footnote"> - -<p><a name="Footnote_71_71" id="Footnote_71_71"></a><a href="#FNanchor_71_71"><span class="label">[71]</span></a> <i>Den Schenken</i> should be <i>die Schenken</i>, and a few -lines below <i>der Kerze</i> should be <i>die Kerze.</i> I omit the <i>Schenken</i> -altogether. Of course it is possible <i>der Kerze</i> is Genitive, "in the -woe of the taper," and the verb intransitive; but this is very harsh.</p></div> - -<div class="footnote"> - -<p><a name="Footnote_72_72" id="Footnote_72_72"></a><a href="#FNanchor_72_72"><span class="label">[72]</span></a> This appears to be the meaning of <i>Garechtigkeit.</i></p></div> - -<div class="footnote"> - -<p><a name="Footnote_73_73" id="Footnote_73_73"></a><a href="#FNanchor_73_73"><span class="label">[73]</span></a> <i>Sondern so darüber hinausgeht, dass eben nichts als -dieses Hinauseyn und Hinausgehen zur Darstellung kommen kann.</i> That -is, the art of the Sublime is based essentially on a contradiction, -for while it assumes the One substance to be the significance of the -external world, it is the truth of that significance that it points to -that which transcends externality.</p></div> - -<div class="footnote"> - -<p><a name="Footnote_74_74" id="Footnote_74_74"></a><a href="#FNanchor_74_74"><span class="label">[74]</span></a> The thought here is not strictly logical. What is -associated by symbolism with Unity is the external Other, what is -divided by Hebraic conception is the entire content of the Real -both in its spiritual and external aspect. But the general sense is -sufficiently clear.</p></div> - -<div class="footnote"> - -<p><a name="Footnote_75_75" id="Footnote_75_75"></a><a href="#FNanchor_75_75"><span class="label">[75]</span></a> This I take to be the point of the contrast between the -words <i>scheinen</i> and <i>erscheinen</i>.</p> - -<hr class="chap" /> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_106" id="Page_106">[Pg 106]</a></span></p></div> - - - - -<h5>CHAPTER III</h5> - - -<h4>THE CONSCIOUS SYMBOLISM OF THE COMPARATIVE TYPE OF ART</h4> - - -<p>The result we have now arrived at in the above consideration of the -Sublime, and in contradistinction to the strictly unpremeditated -type of symbolization, consists partly in the <i>separation</i> of its -own independent Inwardness, consciously apprehended in its quality -of significance, from the concrete appearance that is thereby -distinguished from it, partly also in the direct or indirect -affirmation of the <i>incompatibility</i> of the two above mentioned -aspects to one another, by which it appears that the significance as -the universal passes beyond the particular fact and its singularity. -But in the imagination of pantheism, no less than in the type of the -Sublime, the real content, that is the One universal substance of all -concrete existence, was unable to be presented to imaginative vision -or sense-perception without some relation to created existence, albeit -created under a mode inadequate to express the essence of that Unity. -This relation, however, was attached to the substance itself, which, -in the negativity of its accidents, supplied the proof of its Wisdom, -Goodness, Power, and Justice<a name="FNanchor_76_76" id="FNanchor_76_76"></a><a href="#Footnote_76_76" class="fnanchor">[76]</a>. For this reason the relation between -significance and content is also in the case of the Sublime, at least -in a general way, of a kind that is both <i>essential</i> and <i>necessary</i>, -and the two sides thus linked with each other are not yet, in the -strict sense of the term, external to each other. It is, however, -inevitable, for the reason that it is implicitly present in symbolism, -that this externality should come to be directly posited and<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_107" id="Page_107">[Pg 107]</a></span> appear -in the forms we have now to consider in this concluding chapter on the -art of symbolism. We may summarily describe them as <i>conscious</i><a name="FNanchor_77_77" id="FNanchor_77_77"></a><a href="#Footnote_77_77" class="fnanchor">[77]</a> -symbolism, or, in a still more direct way, the <i>comparative</i> type of -art.</p> - -<p>In other words, what we understand by conscious symbolism is this, -that the significance is not merely independently cognized, but is -<i>expressly</i> set forth as distinct from the external mode, in which it -is represented. The significance then appears, as in the case of the -Sublime, to receive an independent expression which is not essentially -in the actual embodiment given to it under the mode employed<a name="FNanchor_78_78" id="FNanchor_78_78"></a><a href="#Footnote_78_78" class="fnanchor">[78]</a>. -The relation, however, of both to one another no longer continues -to be, as in the type last examined, a mode of relation which is -fundamentally due to the significance itself, but is a more or less -haphazard association, which may generally be expressed as the product -of the <i>subjectivity</i> of the poet, the absorption of his spirit in an -external object, the result of his wit or invention; a mode, in short, -which enables the poet at one time rather to make a beginning directly -from a sensible phenomenon, and to imagine for it from his own mind -a spiritual significance cognate with it, and at another to select -in preference as his point of departure the real or only relatively -personal idea, with a view to embodying the same, or even to do nothing -more than relate one image with another, which presents characteristic -features of resemblance.</p> - -<p>This kind of linking together must consequently be distinguished from -that still naïve and <i>unconscious</i> symbolism in virtue of the fact that -now the individual recognizes the inward essence of the significances -he adopts for the content of his creation no less than, the positive -nature of the external objects, which he employs as means of comparison -for the more direct presentment of the same, placing both in this -juxtaposition with clear intention owing to the similarity he has -discovered between them. The distinction, on the other hand, between -the present type and<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_108" id="Page_108">[Pg 108]</a></span> that of the Sublime is rather to be traced to the -fact that though under one aspect it may be true that the separation -and juxtaposition of the significances with their concrete shaping in -the work of art is itself set forth in express relief to a less or -higher degree, yet, on the other hand, for the reason that it is no -longer the Absolute itself that is accepted as content, but any defined -and restricted significance whatever, the typical relation of the -Sublime falls away, and in its place a relation is set up within the -act of severance thus intentionally made between the real significance -and its embodiment, a relation which in effect produces the very result -in the sphere of premeditated comparison that we found unconscious -symbolism in its own way proposed as an object.</p> - -<p>In one word, so far as <i>content</i> is here concerned, the Absolute -itself, <i>the Lord of creation</i>, can no longer be conceived as the -significance which Art seeks after. That this is so is rendered -inevitable by the already obvious fact that on account of the -severation of more concrete existence from the notion, and further, -if only under the mode of comparison, the juxtaposition of both sides -thus separated, the category of <i>finitude</i> is there and then accepted -by the artistic consciousness, in so far as it conceives this form -as the real and ultimate one; and for this reason, moreover, the -imagined significances, being selected wholly from the sphere of the -finite, have no further association whatever with the Absolute as the -fundamental significance of all created things. Sacred poetry stands -out in entire contrast to this, for in this God is the exclusive -significance of all things; as set over against Him, they have -no stability at all, but vanish or are nothing. If, however, the -significance is able to discover its image and parallel of resemblance -in that which is itself essentially <i>restricted</i> and finite, it follows -that it must itself to that extent be limited in its range, as, in -fact, it is in the type of symbolic conception which now occupies our -attention, where that which is found is nothing more than an image, -necessarily external to the content, selected purely at random by the -poet for the sake of the <i>similarity</i> it presents to the content, and -as such regarded as relatively adequate thereto. For this reason there -is but one trait left us in the comparative type of art, which is<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_109" id="Page_109">[Pg 109]</a></span> also -shared by that of the Sublime, and it is this that every image, instead -of embodying the fact and significance directly under a mode adequate -to their full reality, is only taken to present an image and similitude -of either.</p> - -<p>For these reasons this kind of symbolization is, if we conceive it -apart as an independent whole, a generic class of subordinate rank. -The form which it supplies is merely the descriptive selection of a -portion of sensuous existence immediately perceived, or of a prosaic -idea of the mind<a name="FNanchor_79_79" id="FNanchor_79_79"></a><a href="#Footnote_79_79" class="fnanchor">[79]</a>, in other words, the significance is expressly to -be distinguished from it. And, further, in a measure such an employment -of comparison in works of art, which are shaped out of homogeneous -material, and in their specific form constitute an indivisible whole, -can only assert itself as relatively valid, that is, as mere ornament -and accessory, such as we find it, in fact, in the genuine products of -classic and romantic art.</p> - -<p>It is a further consequence that if we regard the entire sphere of -this type as the union of the two stages which preceded it on the -ground that it not merely comprehends within itself the <i>separation</i> -of significance from external reality, which is the fundamental -<i>causa rationis</i> of the Sublime, but also includes the <i>reference</i> of -a concrete phenomenon to a universal import cognate with it, as we -have seen was asserted in the real type of symbolism, such a union -is notwithstanding in no way a higher type of art; it is, in truth, -despite its very clearness, a superficial way of apprehending things, -limited in its content and formally more or less prosaic, which falls -away into the consciousness of commonsense as fully remote from the -secretly fermenting depth of genuine symbolism as it is from the height -of the Sublime.</p> - -<p>So far as the <i>classification</i> of our present subject-matter is -concerned we may observe, first, that in this act of comparative -differentiation, which presupposes the significance independently, -and affirms either a sensuous or imaginary form in a relation of -opposition to it, there is the aspect held constantly throughout -that the significance is here accepted as of most importance, and -the form is solely the embodiment of the same and external to it; -but along with this the further difference makes its appearance, -namely,<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_110" id="Page_110">[Pg 110]</a></span> that it is sometimes the one aspect of this opposition which -is first pre-eminently emphasized, and made the significant point of -departure, while at other times it is the other. And owing to this -fact we have either the embodiment presented us as an independently -external, immediate fact or phenomenon of Nature, which is then -related by comparison to a significance of a more general bearing, or -the significance is independently come by in another way, and only -afterwards a mode of embodying it is selected from some external -source, it matters not what.</p> - -<p>Relatively to the above distinctions we may classify our material under -the two first fundamental and a third and other supplementary divisions -as follows:</p> - -<p>A. In the <i>first</i> it is the <i>concrete phenomenon</i>, whether the -selection be made from Nature or human events, incidents, and actions, -which constitutes both the point of departure in the process of -artistic conception, and the substance of essential weight in the -reproduction. It is no doubt exhibited solely on account of the more -general significance, which it contains and signifies, and is only so -far unfolded, that it may contribute to the object of embodying this -significance in a specific occurrence or condition cognate with it. The -comparison, however, of the general significance and the particular -case is not as yet <i>expressly</i> set forth as <i>subjective</i> activity, and -the entire reproduction will not merely be the embellishment of a work -which actually possesses a substantive position without it, but is set -forth as itself claiming to give the character of an independent whole. -The types of this class are the fable, the parable, the apologue, the -proverb, and the metamorphosis.</p> - -<p>B. In the <i>second</i> phase the <i>significance</i> on the contrary is that -which is first presented to consciousness, and the concrete embodiment -is that which is merely incidental or accessory to it, possessing no -independent subsistency of its own, but appearing as wholly subordinate -to the significance, so that we are now also made more immediately -aware of the element of personal caprice in the selection of this -rather than any other image. This mode of production is unable in the -great majority of cases to reach the point of a fully perfected work -of art, and is consequently forced to leave the forms it supplies as -appurtenant to other<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_111" id="Page_111">[Pg 111]</a></span> artistic images. The important types of this -class are the riddle, the allegory, the metaphor, the image, and the -simile.</p> - -<p>C. <i>Thirdly</i>, and in conclusion, if rather by way of supplement, we -have yet further to include within our list the didactic poem, and -purely descriptive poetry, inasmuch as in these types of poetry we -find, on the one hand, that the presentment of the general character -of the objects in the clearness under which they are made intelligible -to commonsense<a name="FNanchor_80_80" id="FNanchor_80_80"></a><a href="#Footnote_80_80" class="fnanchor">[80]</a>, no less than on the other that the exhibition of -their concrete appearance receives a substantially independent form, -and by doing so effects with elaborate completeness the severation of -that which only in its union and really reciprocal fusion is capable of -giving us a genuine work of art.</p> - -<p>This separation of the two phases essential to the process of -art-production carries with it the result that the various forms which -find their place in the entire subject-matter under discussion have -merely a claim to fall in as part of an inquiry into the modes of art -in virtue of the fact that poetry, and only poetry, is in a position -to express such a relation of self-contained independence as between -significance and form. As opposed to this it is the very problem of the -plastic arts to manifest such significant content in and through their -external form and viewed thus externally.</p> - -<h6>A. MODES OF COMPARISON, WHICH HAVE THEIR ORIGIN UPON THE SIDE OF -EXTERNALITY</h6> - -<p>The attempt to arrange the several kinds of poetic production which -are apportioned to this first stage of the comparative type of art -carries with it no little difficulty, and is a fruitful source -of embarrassment. They are, that is to say, hybrid species of a -subordinate rank, which in no way whatever mark out any necessary -aspect of art They stand in the domain of Aesthetic presenting features -analogous to certain animal types, and other exceptional phenomena -in natural science. In both spheres the difficulty consists in this -that in either case it is the notion of the science itself,<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_112" id="Page_112">[Pg 112]</a></span> which -is the ground of its classification and specific differences. As -differentia of the notion these are also at the same time distinctions -really adequate to the notional process, and intelligible as such; -with these latter such transitional modes are unable fully to conform -for the reason that they are merely defective types, which proceed -from a previous phase that is fundamental without being able to reach -the next one. This is no fault of the notion, nay, supposing that we -preferred to make such ancillary types the basis of our classification, -instead of pointing out their relation to the specific phases of the -<i>notional</i> process of our subject-matter, we should have presented us -precisely that aspect of them which was inadequate to this process -as the irreproachable mode of their development. A true principle of -classification, on the contrary, is compelled to proceed from the true -notion, and such <i>hybrid</i> types as those now discussed can only be -suitably placed where the genuine and independently stable ones show a -tendency to dissolve and pass over into others.</p> - -<p>Apart from such considerations, however, the artistic types referred to -belong to the <i>forecourt</i> of artistic symbolism, inasmuch as they are -generally incomplete, and to that extent <i>merely</i> a search after art in -its truth. Such a movement no doubt presents the essential ingredients -of a genuine mode of configuration, but it lays hold of them in their -aspect of finitude, separation, and purely relative propinquity; -it fails consequently to rank on the same level. When we discuss, -therefore, the fable, apologue, and the rest we must treat these forms -not as though they belonged to <i>poetry</i> in the specific sense, as it -differs among other things from music no less than the plastic arts, -but only with the view of pointing out the relation in which they stand -to the <i>generic</i> types of art. It is only thus their specific character -can be elucidated. To such an object the notion of the genuine types of -the art of poetry, whether epic, lyric, or dramatic, will not assist us.</p> - -<p>We propose now to differentiate these forms in the following order; -we shall begin with the <i>fable</i>, proceed after that to discuss the -<i>parable</i>, <i>apologue</i>, and <i>proverb</i>, and conclude our inquiry with the -<i>metamorphosis.</i></p> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_113" id="Page_113">[Pg 113]</a></span></p> - - - -<p style="font-size: 0.8em;">1. THE FABLE</p> - -<p>Hitherto we have throughout merely dwelt upon the formal aspect of the -relation of an expressed significance to its embodiment; we have now -furthermore to elucidate the content, which declares its suitability -for such a mode.</p> - -<p>In our previous consideration of the various aspects of the <i>Sublime</i> -we saw that at the point where we have now arrived, it is no longer a -matter of any importance to envisualize the Absolute and One in its -indivisible Power by means of the nothingness and impotency of the -created thing to rise up to that infinite transcendency. We are now -on the plane of the finite consciousness, and have only to concern -ourselves with a finite content. If we direct our attention conversely -to the genuine symbolical type, to which the comparative is under -a certain aspect equally related, we find that here that <i>inward</i> -aspect, which stands in opposition to the form up to this point -always immediately presented, the natural shape, that is to say, is -the spiritual, a truth that even in Egyptian symbolism received ample -illustration. To the extent, however, that everything natural is left -standing, and preconceived in its position of isolated <i>solidarity</i>, -the spiritual is also something both <i>finite</i> and <i>defined</i>, that is -to say man and his finite aims and the natural maintains a certain, -albeit theoretical<a name="FNanchor_81_81" id="FNanchor_81_81"></a><a href="#Footnote_81_81" class="fnanchor">[81]</a>, relationship to these objects, a significant -suggestion and revelation of the same to the use and weal of mankind. -The phenomena of Nature, storms, flight of birds, the constitution -of the intestines of animals and so forth, in the significance they -possess for human interests, are now accepted in a totally different -sense to that they figured in the conceptions of Parsees, Hindoos, or -Egyptians, for whom the Divine is still linked to the Natural under -the mode that man, as an integral part of Nature, moves to and fro in -a world full of gods, and his personal action consists in the display -through his activities of this very identity of Life, whereby this -doing of his, in so far as it is compatible with the natural existence -of the Divine, appears itself as a revelation and bringing forth of -the Divine in mankind. When, however, man is<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_114" id="Page_114">[Pg 114]</a></span> withdrawn into himself, -and intuitively seeks for his freedom within the closed doors of his -own substance<a name="FNanchor_82_82" id="FNanchor_82_82"></a><a href="#Footnote_82_82" class="fnanchor">[82]</a>, he becomes intrinsically the object of his own -personality; he acts, transacts his affairs, and works as he himself -wills; he possesses a personal life of his own, and feels the essential -character of his aims as part of himself, to which the natural is only -related as something outside him. Consequently Nature becomes insulated -around him, serves him under such an aspect that in his attitude to the -Divine he no longer secures an envisagement of the Absolute in her, but -simply regards her as a means, through which the gods enable him to -discover such a knowledge of themselves as may contribute most to his -advantage, unveiling their will to the human spirit through the medium -of Nature and suffering the purpose thereof to declare itself through -mankind. An identity of the Absolute and Nature is here presupposed, an -identity in which <i>human aims</i> are pre-eminently emphasized. A type of -symbolism such as this, however, is not within the province of art, but -that of religion. That is to say, the <i>vates</i> or prophet subordinates -every significant relation of natural events, pre-eminently to the -service of practical ends, whether it be in the interest of the -particular designs of individuals, or in that of the common action of -an entire people. Poetry, on the contrary, is bound to recognize and -express even the practical situations and relations in a more universal -form adapted to contemplation.</p> - -<p>What we have, however, to deal with now is a natural phenomenon, an -occurrence, which, in its passage, exhibits a particular relation, -which maybe accepted as symbol for a general significance in the -circle of human deeds and dealings, in other words for an ethical -maxim, a saw, for a significance, therefore, whose content unfolds -a reflection over the nature of the course which either is taken or -ought to be taken in human matters, that is, facts which are related to -volition. Here it is no longer the Divine will, which is self-revealed -in its essential nature to mankind through natural events, and their -religious import. We have nothing more than a quite ordinary course of -everyday occurrences, from the isolated reproduction of which we are -able to abstract in a<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_115" id="Page_115">[Pg 115]</a></span> way commonly intelligible an ethical <i>dictum</i>, -a warning, ensample, or rule of prudence, by whatever name we choose -to call it, which is set before us in a form that appeals to our -imagination for the sake of the reflection it carries with it. And this -is just the way in which we ought to regard the fables of Aesop.</p> - -<p>(<i>a</i>) In other words, the fables of Aesop in their original form are -just such a mode of conceiving a natural relation or event between -single natural objects generally, mainly between animals, whose -intercourse with one another is based on the same practical necessities -of life that are the motive force in that of humanity. This relation or -occurrence, as viewed in its more general characters, is consequently -of a kind that may happen in the sphere of human life, and as such -carries with it a significance for man.</p> - -<p>As thus explained the genuine fable of Aesop is therefore the -reproduction of a condition of animate or inanimate life, of some -occurrence in the animal world for example, which is not by any -means composed at haphazard, but is put together in conformity with -natural fact and genuine observation, and so reproduced in the form of -narrative that, in its relation to human existence, and particularly -the practical aspect of the same, a general maxim may be deduced from -it. The requirement of <i>primary</i> importance that it implies, therefore, -is that the particular case in question, which is to supply the -so-called moral, must not be purely <i>imaginary</i>, that is to say, first -and foremost the substance of the composition must not present facts -which run <i>counter</i> to the mode of their appearance in real life. The -narrative may be further and yet more clearly characterized in this -that it does not record the particular case itself in its universality, -but rather the mode under which this, taken in its concrete singularity -and as a real fact, is in such external reality the type for all action -based upon analogous circumstances.</p> - -<p>This original form of the fable leaves upon it, and this is the -<i>third</i> point to which we direct attention, the impress of most -<i>naïveté</i>, because in it the didactic aim and the deduction of general -significances of utilitarian colour do not appear to be that which was -the original intention of the narrator, but rather something which -turned up afterwards.<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_116" id="Page_116">[Pg 116]</a></span> For this reason the most attractive among -the so-called fables of Aesop will be those which correspond most -emphatically with this naïve tone and narrate actions, if such an -expression may here be used, or at least relations and events, which -in part are founded upon animal instinct, partly are the expression of -some other natural relation and partly are generally put together for -their own sake rather than exclusively composed as the fancy of the -moment happened to dictate. For this reason it is further sufficiently -obvious that the motto <i>fabula docet</i>, which has attached itself to -these fables as we now have them presented us, either takes the true -spirit out of them, or frequently is something like a fist in our -eyes<a name="FNanchor_83_83" id="FNanchor_83_83"></a><a href="#Footnote_83_83" class="fnanchor">[83]</a>, so that quite as often as not we are inclined to deduce the -intended maxim's opposite, or one or two as good if not better.</p> - -<p>In further elucidation of this conception of these Greek fables we -propose now to offer a few illustrations. The oak and the reed stand -in the teeth of the storm-wind. The slender reed merely bows before -it, the stubborn oak snaps. This is a frequent enough occurrence in -a great storm. In its ethical suggestion what we have here is some -man of high position and inflexible temper as opposed to one of more -modest station who, through his natural pliancy, is able in misfortune -to keep himself secure on such ordinary levels, while the great man -goes to ground through his pride and obstinacy. An analogous case is -the fable of the swallows which we find in the Phaedrus. The swallows -and other birds with them see a rustic sowing the flax seed, from the -growth of which the bird-snare is to be made. The provident swallows -fly away, the other birds think nothing of the morrow; they abide -at home and are caught. A real phenomenon of Nature is also at the -bottom of this fable. It is a notorious fact that in autumn swallows -are off to southerly climes, and consequently are absent when birds -are snared. The same thing may be said of the fable about the bat, -which is despised by day and night, because it belongs to neither the -one nor the other. A more general human significance is attributed to -real prosaic incidents of this class, much as pious people are only -too ready nowadays to interpret<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_117" id="Page_117">[Pg 117]</a></span> everything that occurs in a sense -that is edifying or useful. It is, however, not essential to such a -purpose that in every case the true fact of Nature should appear at -once as obvious. In the fable, for instance, of the fox and the raven -we are unable at first blush to recognize the natural fact, although -it is not wholly absent. It is, in truth, a genuine characteristic -both of ravens and crows that they set about cawing when they happen -to catch sight of strange objects, whatever they may be, whether man -or beast, in sudden motion. Natural relations of a similar kind lie -at the root of the fable of the thorn-bush, which plucks the wool off -the passer-by, or wounds the fox that seeks refuge there, or that -of the countryman who warms a snake in his bosom. Others set forth -occurrences which may naturally form part of animal experience; take, -for instance, the first example of the fables of Aesop where the eagle -devours the cubs of the fox and carries off a hot coal attached to the -sacrificial flesh which sets his nest on fire. And, in conclusion, we -find that others contain traits of old myths, such as the fable of -the dung-beetle, eagle, and Jupiter, where the circumstance borrowed -from natural history—we will pass it by for what it is worth—appears -to be referable to the different seasons of the year when the eagle -and dung-beetle respectively lay their eggs; at the same time we may -observe a clear intimation here of the traditional importance of the -scarab, which, however, even in our present example, is already treated -with an inclination toward comedy, an inclination still more pronounced -in Aristophanes. As an excuse for not entering more fully here into the -question how many of these fables can actually be traced to Aesop we -mention the already well-established fact that only of quite a small -minority—the last-cited one of dung-beetle and the eagle is among -them—can it be shown that they date from Aesop's time, or that in -general terms there is any flavour of antiquity about them to support -the view that Aesop is in fact their author.</p> - -<p>Of Aesop himself we are informed that he was a deformed and humpbacked -slave; and for his place of residence we are transported into Phrygia, -the very land, that is, which marks the passage from the immediately -symbolical and the existence still fettered on Nature, to a land in -which man<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_118" id="Page_118">[Pg 118]</a></span> begins to take real hold of the spiritual and himself as -the source of the same. In our present connection, no doubt, he does -not behold the animal and natural world in the way the Hindoos and -Egyptians beheld it, that is, as something of itself, superior and -Divine. He regards it with prosaic vision as something whose relations -are only of service in the presentment of a picture of human act and -avoidance. His conceits are further merely the reflections of wit, -without real energy of soul or depth of insight and a fundamental grasp -of reality, without poetry and philosophy, in fact. His opinions and -maxims are, in consequence, fairly rich in sensuous image and traits of -cleverness, but we never get beyond the digging away into mere trifles, -which, instead of creating free shapes from the unfettered life of -spirit, is contented to discover some additional aspect that is new -in material already close at hand, such as the specific instincts and -habits of animals or other daily occurrences of little moment; and this -is so because that which he would teach he is still afraid to express -freely, and is only able to make it intelligible in a kind of riddle -which is at the same time always being solved. Prose has its origin -in the slave, and in the same way prose clings to the entire type of -conception with which we are now concerned.</p> - -<p>Despite this fact, however, the experience of almost all nations and -times has in one form or another run through these old tales; and -however much any particular people whose literature is generally well -versed in fable may pride itself as possessing more than one fabulist -of distinction, we shall find that their poetry is for the most part -merely a reflection of these primary sallies of invention, merely -translated into the vernacular of the age. All that has since been -added to the general heritage of such conceits falls far behind the -original legacy in real merit.</p> - -<p>(<i>b</i>) There are, however, among these fables of Greek descent a -number which betray the greatest poverty of invention and execution, -being mere pegs on which to hang the instructive moral, so that the -contents, whether they refer to gods or animals, have merely a formal -significance. Yet even these are far enough removed from the modern -tendency of doing violence to the animal world as we find<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_119" id="Page_119">[Pg 119]</a></span> it in -Nature. An example of this tendency is that fable of Pfeffel about -a marmot which collected provisions in autumn, an act of foresight -which another marmot neglected, and so was brought to the condition -of beggary and starvation. Or there is that other of the fox, the -bloodhound, and the lynx, of whom it is narrated that they presented -themselves before Jupiter, together with the talents which exclusively -belonged to them of cunning, keen scent, and clear sight, and requested -that these gifts should be equally divided between them; the fable goes -on that they obtained such consent under these rather surprising terms: -"The fox gets a blow on the forehead, the bloodhound is good for no -more hunting, the Argus Lynx receives a cataract." That a marmot should -cease to make provision for its wants, or that the three animals above -mentioned should ever incidentally meet with, or be naturally capable -of receiving, a proportionate division of their respective gifts is -contrary to all reason and consequently meaningless. A better fable -than those above cited is that of the ant and the grasshopper, or that -other of the deer with the beautiful horns and the slender legs.</p> - -<p>Conformably to the tenor of fables of this kind we have grown, as -a rule, accustomed to accept the moral of the fable as that which -is of first importance, and to regard the narrative as <i>merely</i> an -external form, and consequently an event entirely <i>composed</i> with a -view to expound that moral. Embodiments of this sort, however, more -particularly when the occurrence described is wholly at variance with -the natural character of specific animals, are in the highest degree -insipid, attempts at invention which mean less than nothing. The real -ingenuity of a fable consists exclusively in this that it is able to -impart to that which already exists in determinate form a further and -more universal significance than that which is immediately presented.</p> - -<p>The question has further been raised, in reference to the general -assumption that the essence of a fable consists in setting before us -the actions and speech of animals rather than those of mankind, as to -what it is precisely which attracts us in this allusion. We cannot -suppose, however, that there is after all much that is attractive in -such a furbishing up of our humanity in animal form, even though<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_120" id="Page_120">[Pg 120]</a></span> it -should exceed or at least differ from that of a comedy of apes and -dogs, where, apart from the sight of the general cleverness of the -dressing up, the entire interest consists rather in the deliberate -contrast between animal nature as it really is and appears, and that -represented as taking part in human affairs. On grounds of this sort -Breitinger finds the attraction to consist entirely in the element -of the <i>marvellous.</i> In the original type of the fable, however, the -appearance of animals endowed with speech is <i>not</i> put before us as -anything uncommon or surprising. And for this very reason Lessing is -of the opinion that the introduction of animals is really of great use -in helping us to understand and <i>assisting</i> the poet to <i>abridge</i> his -exposition; in other words we are well acquainted with the qualities -of animals, the cuteness of the fox, the magnanimity of the lion, the -voracity and violence of the wolf, and are consequently able to set -before our minds a concrete image in place of such abstract qualities. -An advantage of this kind, however, in no essential degree mitigates -the triviality of the relation when it has become one purely of form, -and generally it is even a disadvantage to place animals thus before -us instead of men, for the reason that the animal form remains a mask, -which, so far as intelligibility is concerned, <i>veils</i> fully as much as -it <i>declares</i> the significance.</p> - -<p>The most important fable of this kind should be in that case the -old history of Reinecke, the fox, which is notwithstanding strictly -speaking no fable at all.</p> - -<p>(<i>c</i>) In other words we may in conclusion add a <i>third</i> type of the -fable, in which we find that there is already a tendency to pass beyond -the real boundaries of the type. The ingenuity of a fable consists, as -already pointed out, in the discovery of particular cases among the -variety of natural phenomena, which we are able to use as evidential -support of general reflections upon human action and behaviour, without -essentially displacing the animal and natural world from its own native -mode of existence. For the rest this general application or adaptation -of the particular case to the so-called moral is an exercise of -personal caprice, or shall we say native wit, and is therefore to all -intents and purposes an affair of pleasantry. It is this aspect which -receives the main emphasis in the type of fable now before<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_121" id="Page_121">[Pg 121]</a></span> us. The -fable is in fact accepted as a witty jest. Goethe has written many a -delightful and ingenious poem in this vein. The following lines occur -in one of them, which is entitled "The Barking Dog":</p> - -<p> -<span style="margin-left: 2.5em;">Down every road afield we ride</span><br /> -<span style="margin-left: 3.5em;">On business bent or pleasure;</span><br /> -<span style="margin-left: 2.5em;">And ever in our wake full-cry</span><br /> -<span style="margin-left: 3.5em;">A hound's bark beats the measure.</span><br /> -<span style="margin-left: 2.5em;">Loosed from our horse's stable he</span><br /> -<span style="margin-left: 3.5em;"><i>Will</i> always gallop beside us:</span><br /> -<span style="margin-left: 2.5em;">And this is what his clamour proves!</span><br /> -<span style="margin-left: 3.5em;">We ride, are with the riders.</span><br /> -</p> - -<p>It is equally necessary here, as in the case of Aesop's fables, that -objects which are borrowed from Nature should receive their native -aspect, and only bring before us in their action and habits human -circumstances, passions, and traits, which have a close affinity to -those of the animal world. The story of Reinecke is one of this kind, -and is really more a fairy-tale than a fable in the strict sense. -We find in the content of this the reflection of an age of disorder -and lawlessness, of evil generally, weakness, baseness, violence, -and shamelessness, of unbelief in religion, that merely retains the -appearance of a mastery, or indeed an established position in the -world-drama; and the result is that craft, cunning, and selfishness -have it all their own way. It is, in fact, the condition of the -Middle Ages, more especially as developed in Germany. The powerful -vassals pay, it is true, some appearance of respect to the king; but -practically every man does as he pleases—robs, murders, oppresses -the weak, betrays the king, finds a way somehow to the favours of the -queen, so that if the community just holds together that is about -all. Such is the human content, which by this fable is preserved, -not in a mere abstract proposition but in an entire <i>complexus</i> of -conditions and characters, and by reason of its baseness fits in with -the animal nature exactly, under the forms of which it is unfolded. -For this reason we find nothing embarrassing in the fact that it is -without any reserves transferred to the animal realm; and for the same -reason the particular form it takes does not so much appear as an -exceptional case cognate with it; rather<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_122" id="Page_122">[Pg 122]</a></span> we are inclined to feel the -singularity of it make way for a certain breadth of universality, a -vision emphasizing the general truth: "Such is the way things happen -in the world." The comical side consists in the forms under which the -whole is put together, drollery and jest being freely mingled with the -bitter earnestness of the situation; the general effect of which is -that we not only have human meanness admirably depicted through that -of animals, but we are further made a present of the most entertaining -traits, and most characteristic anecdotes wholly peculiar to animal -life, so that, despite all tartness to the palate, our final view -is that of a comedy whose main intention is neither bad nor purely -capricious, but one that has genuine earnestness to support it.</p> - - -<p style="font-size: 0.8em;">2. PARABLE, PROVERB, APOLOGUE</p> - -<p>(<i>a</i>) <i>The Parable</i></p> - -<p><i>Parable</i> has this general affinity with <i>fable</i>, that it accepts -events from the circle of common life, but also makes them the -depositors of a higher and more universal significance, expressly with -a view that the same shall become intelligible and objective by means -of that daily occurrence in its ordinary guise. A difference, however, -at once asserts itself between the parable and fable, and it is this, -that the former selects such occurrences in <i>human</i> action and habits, -as we have them every day before our eyes, rather than in Nature and -the animal world; it then expands the particular case selected, which -appears trite enough at first as such a particular, to the range of -wider interest, by suggesting through it a higher kind of significance.</p> - -<p>For this reason the range and the importance of the significances in -wealth of <i>content</i> can materially be increased and deepened<a name="FNanchor_84_84" id="FNanchor_84_84"></a><a href="#Footnote_84_84" class="fnanchor">[84]</a>, -while, if we take the point of view of form, it is clear that the -subjective process of intentional comparison and setting out of a -generally instructive reflection already marks the acceptance and -appearance of a more advanced type.</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_123" id="Page_123">[Pg 123]</a></span></p> - -<p>As a parable, still united to a wholly practical end, we may view -the means of persuasion used by Cyrus to induce the Persians to -rebel (Herod., I, cap. 126). His letter to the Persians advised them -to betake themselves to a certain spot provided with sickles. When -there he set them all on the first day to clear with hard labour a -certain field overgrown with thistles. On the following day, however, -after they had rested and bathed, he conducted them to a meadow -and supplied them with ample cheer in the shape of food and wine. -Finally, at the close of the feast, he asked of them which of the two -days had proved the most enjoyable. All voted naturally for to-day -rather than yesterday; the former had brought them only good things, -while the latter had been a day of weariness and toil. On this Cyrus -exclaimed: "Follow me, and many will be the good days such as the -present has brought you. Refuse to follow me, and countless labours -are in store quite a match for those of yesterday." Of a type akin -to the above, though of profoundest interest and the widest range -considered relatively to their significance, are the parables we meet -with in the Gospels. Take, for example, that of the sower, a narrative -which as such possesses the most unimportant subject-matter, and -whose significance centres throughout in the comparison it supplies -to the preaching of the kingdom of heaven. The significance in these -parables is wholly a religious gospel, to which the human occurrences, -wherein such is imaginatively presented, stand in a relation similar -to that between the animal and human world in the fables of Aesop, -where the former elicits the meaning of the latter. Of a like breadth -of content is the famous story of Boccaccio, which Lessing converted -in his "Natham" into the parable of the three rings. The substance of -the narrative is also in this case taken by itself nothing remarkable; -the extraordinarily wide, reach of its content arises wholly from the -way the differences between and the relative validity of the three -religions, namely, the Jewish, the Mohammedan, and the Christian, are -suggested by it. The same thing may be said of the latest novelties in -this type of art, the parables of Goethe for example. Take that of the -"cat-pasty." In this a famous <i>chef</i>, in order to prove himself hunter -no less than cook, went out hunting, but shot a tom-cat instead of<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_124" id="Page_124">[Pg 124]</a></span> -a hare, which he then served up to the company sauced with his most -consummate art. This is no doubt a reference to the Light theory of -Newton. We have here under the guise of the hare-pie which the cook -tried in vain to elaborate out of a cat a reflection of that abortive -type of physical science which the mathematician will assume to be -something better than it is. These parables of Goethe frequently have -a strong touch of drollery about them, an aspect which they share with -his fables by the help of which he was wont to shed himself of life's -disappointments.</p> - -<p>(<i>b</i>) <i>The Proverb</i></p> - -<p>The <i>proverb</i> forms as it were the middle point of this sphere. In the -form of their execution, that is to say, proverbs lean at one time in -the direction of the fable, at another to that of the apologue. They -give us a particular case selected for the most part from the daily -walk of mankind, which, however, is to be interpreted universally. Take -the example, "One hand washes the other," or those others, "Every one -wheels before his own door," "Who digs a grave for another, falls into -it himself," "Bake a pudding for me and I will staunch your thirst," -and others like them. To wise saws of this type belong the many -apophthegems that Goethe has contributed to modern literature, often -of exquisite grace and profound to a degree. These are not modes of -comparison of the type that the general significance and the concrete -phenomenon are opposed to one another in separation, but the former is -immediately expressed with the latter.</p> - -<p>(<i>c</i>) <i>The Apologue</i></p> - -<p>The <i>apologue</i> may be regarded as a parable, which not only serves -in the way of <i>comparison</i> to render visible a general significance, -but rather in this its very form reproduces and expresses the general -moral, the same being actually included in the particular case, -which is, however, related as only a single example. Conformably to -this definition we may call Goethe's "Der Gott und die Bajadere" an<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_125" id="Page_125">[Pg 125]</a></span> -apologue. Here we find the Christian tale of the repentant Magdalene -reclothed in accordance with Hindoo ideas. The Bajadere<a name="FNanchor_85_85" id="FNanchor_85_85"></a><a href="#Footnote_85_85" class="fnanchor">[85]</a> exemplifies -the same humility, a like strength of love and faith; God puts her to -the proof, an ordeal she completely sustains, and her exaltation and -reconciliation follows. In the apologue also narrative is so extended -that the outcome of it furnishes the moral itself, bare of any parallel -to support it, as may be illustrated from "The Treasure-Finder":</p> - -<p> -<span style="margin-left: 2.5em;">Work by day and guests at night,</span><br /> -<span style="margin-left: 2.5em;">Weeks of moil, feasts of delight,</span><br /> -<span style="margin-left: 2.5em;">Such the Future's spell for thee.</span><br /> -</p> - - -<p style="font-size: 0.8em;">3. THE METAMORPHOSIS<a name="FNanchor_86_86" id="FNanchor_86_86"></a><a href="#Footnote_86_86" class="fnanchor">[86]</a></p> - -<p>The <i>third</i> mode we have to discuss in its contrast to the fable, -parable, proverb, and apologue, is the <i>metamorphosis.</i> This is no -doubt of a kind which is both symbolical and mythological; it sets -forth, however, expressly furthermore the natural in its opposition -to the spiritual. That is to say, it confers on an object immediately -present to sense such as a rock, animal, flower, or spring the -peculiar significance of being a <i>delapsus</i> and a <i>punishment</i> of -spiritual existences. Such are the examples of Philomela, the Pieredes, -Narcissus, and Arethusa, all of whom, through some false step, passion, -transgression or the like, became subject to irreparable guilt or pain, -and for this reason were deprived of the freedom of spiritual life, -and united to the substance of physical nature. From one point of view -Nature is not regarded merely under its external and prosaic aspect, -simply, that is, as mountain, river-source, tree and so forth, but it -further receives a content which is bound up with some action or event -of spiritual life. The rock is not simply stone, but Niobe herself, who -weeps for her children. From the other point of view this human action -implies guilt of some kind, and this metamorphosis into the physical -phenomenon is accepted as a degradation of Spirit.</p> - -<p>It is therefore necessary to distinguish these metamorphoses<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_126" id="Page_126">[Pg 126]</a></span> of human -individuals or gods very sharply from the genuine type of <i>unconscious -symbolism.</i> To return to Egypt, for example, the Divine is here in -part immediately envisaged in the mysterious and secluded intension -of animal life, partly, too, the real symbol is here a natural form -which is immediately associated with a wider significance cognate to -it, despite the fact that this form is unable to supply the determinate -existence fully commensurate with it; and this is so for the reason -that neither in respect to its form or its content has unconscious -symbolism arrived at the free outlook of Spirit. Metamorphosis, on -the contrary, emphasizes the essential distinction between Nature and -Spirit, and by doing so marks the <i>passage</i> from that which is both -symbolical and mythological to that which is in the <i>strict sense</i> -mythological, under, that is to say, a conception of the latter, which, -albeit that it proceeds in its myths from a concrete fact of Nature -such as sun, sea, rivers, trees, earth, and the like, nevertheless, -further and expressly sets this purely natural aspect on one side and -apart, divesting such natural phenomena of their inner content and -individualizing the same as a spiritual Power in the adequate artistic -form of gods clothed in the lineaments of humanity, whether we regard -them as external shape or spiritual activity. In this sense Homer and -Hesiod have given to the Greeks their mythology, a mythology which -by no means merely consists in the revelation of the significance of -such gods, by no means is merely an exposition of moral, physical, -theological, or speculative doctrine, but one that is a mythology in -the strict sense, that is the origin of a spiritual religion under the -genuine guise of our humanity.</p> - -<p>In the Metamorphoses of Ovid the most heterogeneous material is brought -together quite apart from the entirely modern spirit in which myth is -treated. Beside the mere aspect of metamorphosis, which could here in -general terms only be conceived as a kind of mythical representation, -we have the specific character<a name="FNanchor_87_87" id="FNanchor_87_87"></a><a href="#Footnote_87_87" class="fnanchor">[87]</a> of this type raised in an -exceptional way in these narrations, in which embodiments of this sort, -which are commonly accepted as symbolical, or are already received in -their entirely mythical character, appear to<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_127" id="Page_127">[Pg 127]</a></span> have been converted into -metamorphoses, and that which is elsewhere united is so presented as to -assert an opposition between its significance and form, and the passage -of the one into the other. In this way, for instance, the Phrygian -or Egyptian symbol, the wolf, is so separated from its intrinsic -significance, that the same is converted into a previous existence if -not actually into the kingship of the Sun, and the existence of the -wolf is conceived as resulting from an act of that human existence. In -the same way in the song of the Pierides the Egyptian gods, the ram, -the cat, and so forth are imaged as such animal forms, in which the -mythical gods of Greece, Jupiter, Venus, and the rest have concealed -themselves from sheer fright. The Pierides themselves, however, by -way of punishment, in that they dared to rival the Muses with their -singing, are changed into woodpeckers.</p> - -<p>Looked at from another side it is equally necessary, with a view to -securing the more accurate definition, which the content wherein the -significance consists essentially carries, that we distinguish the -metamorphosis from the fable. That is to say in the fable the binding -together of the moral with the natural fact is an association that is -<i>harmless</i>; for in this the thing of Nature, regarded under the mode -in which it differs in its natural aspect from Spirit, does not affect -the significance, although there are certainly single examples of the -fables of Aesop, which, with but slight alteration, would be instances -of metamorphosis. As such may be cited the forty-second fable of the -bat, the thorn-bush, and the diver, whose instincts are explained as -due to the ill-luck of former experiences.</p> - -<p>And here we must end our passage through this the first circle of the -comparative type of art. It started from that which was immediately -present to sense, that is, the concrete phenomenon. We proceed now from -the point we have arrived at to examine a further kind of significance -which the type unfolds.</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_128" id="Page_128">[Pg 128]</a></span></p> - - - -<h6>B. COMPARISONS, WHICH IN THEIR IMAGINATIVE PRESENTMENT HAVE THEIR -ORIGIN IN THE SIGNIFICANCE.</h6> - -<p>Forasmuch as the severation of significance from embodiment is the -hypostasized form for consciousness, within which the relation of both -originates independently, it is both possible and inevitable that in -the articulation of the self-subsistency of one side no less than -the other a start should be made not only from external existence, -but conversely and as emphatically from that which is <i>immediately -present</i> to the conscious subject, in other words general conceptions, -reflections, emotions, and principles of thought. For this inward -aspect is equally with the images of external objects a subject-matter -present to consciousness and in its independence of that which is -external proceeds on its way from its own resources. In the case, -then, where we find the significance is the point of departure, the -expression, that is, the reality, appears as the <i>modus formulandi</i>, -which is abstracted from the concrete world in order to give a visible -and sensuously defined shape to the significance regarded as abstract -content.</p> - -<p>Owing, however, to the reciprocally indifferent relation under which -both sides confront each other, this association which binds the two -sides together is, as we have already seen, no essentially explicit and -necessary union; consequently the relation, such as it is, that is no -actual reflection of objective fact, is rather a <i>product</i> of <i>active -mind</i>, which no longer even disguises this its fundamental character, -but rather deliberately exposes it in the form of its representation. -The very embodiment possesses this binding together of form and -content, soul and body, under the guise of concrete <i>animation</i><a name="FNanchor_88_88" id="FNanchor_88_88"></a><a href="#Footnote_88_88" class="fnanchor">[88]</a>, -as essentially and explicitly the substantial union of both sides -in the soul as in the body, in the content as in the form. In the -case before us, however, what is presupposed by consciousness is the -dislocation of the two sides, and consequently their association is the -vivification of the significance simply for consciousness by means of -a shape external to it, and an indication of a real existence, equally -subjective in its character through the<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_129" id="Page_129">[Pg 129]</a></span> relation of the same to the -general conceptions, emotions, and thoughts common to humanity. For -this reason what is mainly emphasized in these forms of comparative art -is the subjective art of <i>the poet</i> in his creative capacity, and in -complete works of art we have mainly in our attitude to this particular -aspect of them to separate that which strictly is appurtenant to their -subject-matter and its necessary embodiment from that which is attached -to them by the poet as mere ornament and embellishment. Such accessory -detail, which we cannot fail to distinguish, that is, consisting -mainly of images, similes, allegories, and metaphor, is precisely -that part of his work in virtue of which he earns his title to fame -with most people, a tendency which is all the more common because it -indirectly bears witness to the insight and subtlety which enables such -critics to discover our poet and draw attention to that aspect of his -invention which is so entirely his own. But for all that, as we have -already observed, in genuine works of art such forms as those we are -discussing can only be regarded as accessory, although we doubtless do -find in previous works on <i>Poetics</i> such incidental features treated as -precisely those which go to make the poet.</p> - -<p>Furthermore however, though unquestionably in the first instance -the two sides which have to be associated stand in a relation of -indifference to one another, yet in order to justify the subjective -relation and comparison, the embodiments must also in the character of -its content itself include the same relations and qualities under a -cognate mode to that which the significance intrinsically possesses; -the grasp of this similarity is, in fact, the one sure ground upon -which the setting forth of the significance in union with this specific -form rather than any other, and the envisagement of such import by -its means is based. Lastly, inasmuch as we begin here, not from the -concrete phenomenon, by the abstraction of a general characteristic -from that, but conversely from this universal itself, which the -intention is to have reflected in an image, the significance secures -the position which makes it stand out actually as the real object, and -as such is predominant over the sensuous picture which is the <i>modus</i> -of its envisagement.</p> - -<p>The series in which we propose now to examine the particular<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_130" id="Page_130">[Pg 130]</a></span> types we -have mentioned as belonging to this phase of comparative art may be -indicated as follows:</p> - -<p><i>First</i> in order, as most cognate to the previous stage, the <i>riddle</i> -will enlist our attention.</p> - -<p><i>Secondly</i>, we have to examine the <i>allegory</i>, in which as the main -feature we shall find the abstract significance assert a mastery over -the external form.</p> - -<p><i>Thirdly</i>, we have the class of the comparison in its strict sense; -<i>metaphor, image</i>, and <i>simile.</i></p> - - -<p style="font-size: 0.8em;">1. THE RIDDLE</p> - -<p>The true symbol is essentially enigmatical in so far as the -externality, by means of which a general significance is made apparent, -still differs from the import it is intended to express: in other words -it thereby raises the doubt as to what is the exact signification -applicable to the form. The riddle, however, appertains to conscious -symbolism, and an obvious distinction between it and the genuine -symbol is to be found in the fact that in the former case the meaning -is clearly and fully <i>recognized</i> by the propounder of it, and the -form which veils that which is to be interpreted by it is therefore -<i>intentionally</i> selected for this very purpose. The genuine symbol is -both before and after the act of selection an unsolved problem, the -riddle, on the contrary, is essentially a problem that is solved. It is -therefore with very good reason that Sancho Panza exclaims: "I should -much prefer to hear the solution first and the riddle afterwards."</p> - -<p>(<i>a</i>) <i>First</i>, then, in the invention of the riddle, the point from -which the process starts, is the apprehended meaning, the signification -of it.</p> - -<p>(<i>b</i>) The <i>second</i> step consists in the intentional selection of -traits of character and other qualities from the common experience of -the external world, which—such is always the aspect of Nature and -external objects of every kind—are placed relatively to one another -in piecemeal fashion, and in thus setting them forth in disparate -contiguity, which makes their singularity the more striking. And -inasmuch as they are so placed they are without the enfolding unity<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_131" id="Page_131">[Pg 131]</a></span> -of mind, and their array and association intentionally distract has so -far no intrinsic significance whatever. And yet for all that, and this -is the other aspect of the riddle, they do expressly point to a unity -in relation to which even traits to all appearance most heterogeneous -contain, notwithstanding, both a real sense and significance.</p> - -<p>(<i>c</i>) This unity, which may be styled the subject of these distract -predicates, is just the simple preconception, the word that solves -our riddle, to discover or divine which from the apparently confused -medley of the mode under which it is propounded is the riddle's -problem. Thus interpreted we may call the riddle the facetiousness of -symbolism, aware that it is such which puts to the proof acuteness -of insight and aptness at putting things together, and finally, by -stimulating the zest of solution, breaks into and destroys the very -mode of presentation it has itself set up. In the main we shall find -this, form, therefore, most employed in human speech, though we -may find exceptional examples of it also in the plastic arts<a name="FNanchor_89_89" id="FNanchor_89_89"></a><a href="#Footnote_89_89" class="fnanchor">[89]</a>, -architecture, horticulture, and painting. With regard to its historical -appearance the East is first and foremost responsible, and we may date -its advent in that intermediate and transitional period out of the -more obtuse type of symbolism into one of more intelligent knowledge -and comprehension. Entire peoples and historical epochs have taken -delight in the solution of such problems. It also plays an important -part in the Middle Ages among the Arabs and the Scandinavians, and as a -particular example it is much in evidence in the minstrel tourneys on -the Wartburg. In modern times it is mainly under the more modest guise -of recreation and purely social pleasantry that we cross it.</p> - -<p>In the riddle we have opened a practically limitless field for -witty and striking conceits, which in their reference to any given -circumstance, occurrence, or object take the form of a play upon words -or an epigrammatical sentence. On the one hand we have presented -an object trite to a degree, on the other some conceit of the mind -which emphasizes unexpectedly with conspicuous force some aspect -or relation,<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_132" id="Page_132">[Pg 132]</a></span> which we failed to perceive in that object on first -confronting it, and which now attaches to it the light of a new -significance.</p> - - -<p style="font-size: 0.8em;">2. THE ALLEGORY</p> - -<p>The counterpart to the riddle in this sphere of comparative art, where -the point of departure is from the generality of the significance, -is the <i>allegory.</i> From a certain point of view this form, no less -than the former, endeavours to make more visible to us the definite -qualities of a general conception through qualities in materially -concrete objects which are cognate therewith; but in contrast to that -form this is not done in the interest of a partial concealment and -a mysterious problem; rather it is now quite the other way with the -express object of absolute revealment; to an extent, in fact, that all -which is external, and is as such utilized by it, must become through -and through transpicuous with the significance which has to make its -appearance therein.</p> - -<p>(<i>a</i>) It is therefore in the first place concerned to personify -abstract conditions of a general character or similar qualities -both from the human and the natural world, such as religion, love, -justice, strife, fame, war, peace, the seasons, death, and the like, -and conceive them under the mode of <i>personality.</i> This subjective -aspect, however, is neither in respect to its content nor its external -form in itself either a real subject or individual, but persists as -the abstraction of a general conception, whose content is merely -the <i>barren</i> form of subjectivity which may be called as truly a -grammatical subject<a name="FNanchor_90_90" id="FNanchor_90_90"></a><a href="#Footnote_90_90" class="fnanchor">[90]</a>. In other words an allegorical being, despite -every attempt to clothe it in the lineaments of humanity, entirely -falls short of concrete individuality, whether it be a Greek god, a -saint, or any other genuine example. It is, in fact, so forced to -pare away<a name="FNanchor_91_91" id="FNanchor_91_91"></a><a href="#Footnote_91_91" class="fnanchor">[91]</a> from the substance of subjectivity, in order to make it -conform with the abstract character<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_133" id="Page_133">[Pg 133]</a></span> of its significance, that all -the true definition of individuality disappears. It is therefore only -a just criticism of allegory to say that it is frosty and cold, and, -having regard to the abstract quality of its significances, even in the -point of invention, that it is rather the result of the matter-of-fact -understanding than that of the complete vision and emotional depth -of genuine imagination. Poets, such as Virgil, for example, are -particularly ready to give us examples of allegorical individualization -simply because they are unable to create gods of the Homeric type of -personality.</p> - -<p>(<i>b</i>) <i>Secondly</i>, however, the significant character of allegorical -material is at once <i>defined</i> in its abstraction, and only by means of -such definition is it intelligible; the expression of such particular -aspects, for the reason that it is not immediately unfolded in that -which is in the first instance a purely <i>generalized</i> conception of -personality, is consequently forced to appear alongside of the subject, -simply as the predicates which elucidate the same. This separation of -subject from predicate, generality from particularity, is the second -feature of the frostlike appearance of the allegory. The envisagement -of the determinate and specific qualities is borrowed from the modes of -expression, activity, and resultant effects which make their appearance -in virtue of the significance, when that secures its realized form -in concrete existence, or from the various means which subserve it -in its true realization. For example, war is delineated through -weapons, cannons, drums, and standards, etc.; the yearly seasons, by -an enumeration of the flowers and fruits, which pre-eminently spring -up under the favouring influence of the particular seasons. Objects -of this kind may further receive purely symbolical relations, as, for -instance, Justice may be brought home to our minds by means of the -scales and fillet, Death by that of the hour-glass and scythe. For the -reason, however, that the significance in allegory is the dominant -factor, and the more specialized presentment is subordinate to it -under an equally abstract form, for it is, after all, itself merely -an abstraction, the embodiment of such definable characteristics only -secures the validity of an <i>attribute</i> pure and simple.</p> - -<p>(<i>c</i>) In this way the allegory is under both these aspects without -vital warmth. Its general personification is empty,<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_134" id="Page_134">[Pg 134]</a></span> the definite mode -of its externalization is only a sign, which taken independently has -no longer any meaning, and the <i>centrum</i>, which is thus constrained to -gather up the variety of the attributes into a focus does not possess -the potency of a truly subjective unity which is itself self-embodied -in its real and determinate existence inter-related throughout, but is -rather a purely abstract form, for which the substantial filling-up -with particular traits, which, as we have seen, never succeed in rising -above the rank of the formal attribute, remains as something external. -Consequently we may say that in so far as the allegory sets up any -claim to real self-consistency, in which it personifies its abstraction -and their delineation, it is not to be taken seriously. In other -words, that which is both implicitly and explicitly self-substantive -is unable really to conform with an allegorical being. The <i>Dikê</i> -of the ancients, for instance, is not on all fours with allegorical -individualization. She is universal Necessity personified, eternal -Justice, the universally potent subject, the absolute substantivity of -the relations which co-ordinate Nature and spiritual Life, that is, she -is the absolute Self-subsistent itself, in the train of whom all other -individuals are bound, whether gods or men. Herr Frederick von Schlegel -has, it is true—we have already referred to the fact—ventured the -opinion that every work of art must of necessity be an allegory. Such -an expression of opinion is only true if limited to the sense that -every work of art must contain a general idea and a significance which -is itself essentially true. What we have above, on the contrary, -included under the term allegory is a mode of presentation which only -conforms to the notion of art incompletely, being itself no less -in content than in form subordinate to it. Every human event and -development, every relation in which life is concerned, possesses no -doubt intrinsically an aspect of universality, which may be emphasized -as such, but abstractions of this kind are already to be found in the -general contents of consciousness, and merely to assert them in their -prosaic aspect of generality and external delineation, which is the -point where the allegory halts, is still to fall short of the true -sphere of art.</p> - -<p>Winckelmann has also written an immature work on allegory, in which he -has ranged together a large number of<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_135" id="Page_135">[Pg 135]</a></span> examples, but failed for the -most part to distinguish those which exemplify the symbol and allegory -respectively.</p> - -<p>Among the particular arts within which we find examples of the -allegory, poetry is really acting contrary to its laws when it takes -refuge in such a mode of presentment; sculpture on the contrary is in -most directions barely complete without it, more especially modern -sculputure, which freely admits of that which is native to portraiture, -and so must avail itself of allegorical figures in order to delineate -more closely the relative aspects under which the individual -presentment is posed. On Blucher's monument, for example, which has -been raised to him here in Berlin, we find both the genius of Fame and -Victory, although, having regard to the general treatment of the war of -liberation, this allegorical aspect is once more set aside by means of -a series of particular scenes such as the departure of the army, its -march, and victorious return. Generally speaking, however, where the -subject of sculpture is portraiture the sculptor will avail himself -gladly of allegorical representation as offering to the simplicity -of his central figure the contrast of environment and variety. The -ancients on the other hand, on their sarcophagi for example, more -frequently made use of general mythological representations of such -figures as Sleep, Death, and the like.</p> - -<p>Allegory generally is far less common in the antique than it is in -the romantic art of the Middle Ages, although it must be added that -such romance as it possesses is not really referable to allegory. The -frequent appearance of allegorical conception at this particular epoch -of human history is to be thus explained. From a certain point of -view we find that the content of the Middle Ages is preoccupied with -particular types of individuality and the personal aims, generally -focussed in love and honour, and resulting in vows, wanderings, and -adventures, which are common to them. Individuals of this type and the -events of such lives invariably offer the imagination a wide scope -for the inventive faculties, and the composition of accidental and -capriciously imagined collisions and their resolution. On the other -hand, in direct contrast to this motley show of worldly adventure we -have the universal, taking it here as the stability of the ordinary -relations and conditions of life,<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_136" id="Page_136">[Pg 136]</a></span> a universal which is not, as was -the case in the ancient world, individualized in the figures of -self-subsistent gods; consequently we find it freely and naturally -emphasized in independent isolation as such universality alongside -of these particular types of personality and their specific modes -of appearance and activity. If the artist therefore happens to have -before his mind the general conditions of life we have adverted to, -and assuming that he is desirous of giving artistic embodiment to them -in some form other than the accidental mode common to his age, that -he wishes, in short, to emphasize their universality, he has no other -alternative than to accept the allegorical type of presentment. This is -precisely what we find in the sphere of religion.</p> - -<p>The Virgin Mary, Christ, the actions and dramatic events of apostolic -history, the saints with their penances and martyrdoms, are, it is -true, even here individualities in the full sense; but Christendom -is also to an equal extent concerned with the general conceptions of -abstract spiritual qualities, such as will not comply with the concrete -definition of actual persons inasmuch as the relation of <i>universality</i> -is precisely the mode under which they are presented, of which examples -are Love, Faith, and Hope. And generally the truths and dogmas of -Christendom are independently cognized by the religious consciousness, -and a main interest even of their poetry consists in this that these -doctrines are emphasized in their <i>universal</i> aspect, that Truth is -known and believed in as <i>universal</i> truth. In that case, however, it -is necessary that the concrete presentation should remain a subordinate -factor, itself external to the content, and allegory is just the form -which satisfies this want in the easiest and most sufficient way. -Conformably to this the divine comedy of Dante is full of allegorical -matter. Theology, for example, in this poem is run together in fusion -with the image of his beloved lady Beatrice. This personification, -however, wavers in the lines of its delineation; and this uncertainty -of outline is that which constitutes the beauty of it, and places it -halfway between genuine allegory and a vision of his youthful love. -In the ninth year of his life he looked on her for the first time: -she appeared to him no daughter of mortal men, but of God. His fiery -Italian nature conceived a passion for her, which the years failed to<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_137" id="Page_137">[Pg 137]</a></span> -extinguish. And conscious that it was she who awoke in him the genius -of poetry he finally sets himself the task, after he had lost in her -that which was most loved in the fairest flower of its promise, of -composing that wonderful monument of the most intimate and personal -religion of his heart in the poetic masterpiece of his life.</p> - - -<p style="font-size: 0.8em;">3. METAPHOR, IMAGE, SIMILE</p> - -<p>The <i>third</i> sphere of content attached to the riddle and the allegory -consists in the <i>imaged thing</i> generally. The riddle veiled the still -independently cognized significance and the mode of its shaping in -cognate, albeit heterogeneous and distantly placed traits of definition -was still of most importance. Allegory on the contrary emphasized -the perspicuity of the significance so strongly as the predominant -aim, that the personification and its attributes appear deposed to -the rank of mere signs. The imaged thing now connects this clarity of -allegorical expression with that impulse of the riddle to envisage the -significance which stands out clearly before the mind in the form of an -externality cognate with it; the result, however, is not that it gives -rise to problems which have first of all to be solved, but rather that -the imaged shape appears, by means of which the preconceived conception -is revealed with absolute transparency, notifying itself as that which -it really is.</p> - -<p>(<i>a</i>) <i>The Metaphor</i></p> - -<p>The <i>first</i> point we have to draw attention to in the <i>metaphor</i> is -this, that it may be accepted at once as essentially a simile, in so -far as it expresses clear and self-subsistent significance in a similar -phenomenon of reality comparable with it. In the comparison as such, -however, both sides of the comparison, that is the real meaning and -the image, are definitely kept apart from each other, while on the -contrary in the metaphor this separation, albeit it is essentially -present, is <i>not</i> as yet clearly <i>posited.</i> For this reason Aristotle -long ago distinguished comparison and<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_138" id="Page_138">[Pg 138]</a></span> metaphor by his statement that -a "how" is added to the former which is absent from the latter. In -other words the metaphorical expression specifies but <i>one</i> aspect, -the image. In the context, however, to which the image is attached, -the real significance which is intended lies so near that it is at -the same time immediately asserted without any direct separation of -it from the image. When it is said, for example: "the Spring-time -of these cheeks," or "a sea of tears," we are inevitably forced to -accept such an expression as an image rather than an actual fact, -an image whose significance the context at the same time expressly -designates. In the symbol and allegory the relation of actual meaning -to external form is not asserted either so immediately or necessarily. -From the fact that an Egyptian staircase consists of nine stages, -and a hundred other circumstances of similar pregnancy, it is only -the adept, the connoisseur, and the professor who will derive a -symbolical significance, and doubtless will scent out and discover -much that is both mystical and symbolical into the bargain, which is -so much ingenuity of research thrown away for the reason that what is -discovered is not there. This may have happened often enough to my -honoured friend Creutzer, no less than our latter-day Platonists and -the commentators of Dante.</p> - -<p>(<i>a</i>) In range and variety of form it is impossible to exhaust the -resources of metaphor; its definition, however, is simple. It is a -wholly abbreviated comparison, in which we find, as a fact, image and -significance are not as yet set in opposition to one another, but only -the image is introduced by it; at the same time, however, the meaning -which is thus attached to the image is not its real meaning; this is as -it were effaced, and by virtue of the content in which it is set we are -enabled to recognize the significance which is really intended in the -image itself, albeit that meaning is not expressly asserted.</p> - -<p>For the reason, however, that the meaning that is thus rendered -intelligible under the image only comes to light by virtue of the -context, the significance which is expressed in metaphor cannot claim -the importance of an independent artistic presentation; their mode of -appearance is purely incidental, so that metaphors, in a still more -emphatic degree,<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_139" id="Page_139">[Pg 139]</a></span> can only be employed as the external embellishment of -an essentially independent work of art.</p> - -<p>(<i>β</i>) The metaphor is mainly used in the expressions of speech, which -we may usefully consider in this relation under the following aspects.</p> - -<p>(<i>αα</i>) In the first place every language includes within its own -compass a host of metaphors. They arise from the fact that a word, -which in the first instance merely designates something entirely -sensuous, is carried over into a spiritual sphere. "<i>Grasp"</i>, -"<i>comprehend"</i><a name="FNanchor_92_92" id="FNanchor_92_92"></a><a href="#Footnote_92_92" class="fnanchor">[92]</a>, and generally a number of words connected with -the processes of thought, have in regard to their original meaning a -content that is wholly sensuous, which is consequently abandoned and -exchanged for the meaning applicable to mind; the first meaning is -sensuous, the second spiritual.</p> - -<p>(<i>ββ</i>) By degrees, however, the metaphorical aspect disappears in the -general use of such a word, which as the current coin of language is -converted from an expression which is not strictly accurate to one that -is so, the effect of this process being that image and import, owing -to the habitual frequency with which the latter is only conceived in -the former, cease to differ from one another, and the image merely -immediately presents the abstract significance itself instead of a -concrete mode of vision<a name="FNanchor_93_93" id="FNanchor_93_93"></a><a href="#Footnote_93_93" class="fnanchor">[93]</a>.</p> - -<p>When we take, for example, the word "grasp" in the sense applicable to -mental life it entirely escapes us that there is any sensuous relation -implied between the hand and external objects<a name="FNanchor_94_94" id="FNanchor_94_94"></a><a href="#Footnote_94_94" class="fnanchor">[94]</a>. In living languages -this distinction between genuine metaphor and words which already -through usage have fallen to the level of a mere means of expression -is readily established; the reverse is the case with dead languages, -for the reason that here mere etymology is unable finally to bring our -minds to a decision, inasmuch and in so far as the question does not -depend on the original source of that word, and its general development -in speech, but first and foremost on the fact whether a word which<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_140" id="Page_140">[Pg 140]</a></span> -has all the appearance of being used in a picturesque and metaphorical -sense had or had not already lost by habitual usage under a meaning -applying exclusively to spirit, and in the speech when alive, its first -sensuous significance and been absorbed wholly in that higher sense.</p> - -<p>(<i>γγ</i>) When this takes place the invention of new metaphors, which -are the exclusive product of the poetical imagination becomes for the -first time a vital necessity. That in which this invention is mainly -concerned consists <i>first</i> in transferring the phenomena, activities, -and conditions of a higher level of fact in a way that illustrates -the content of less important material, and in bringing to light -significances of such inferior matter in the form and image which -stands above them. The organic, for example, is by itself essentially -of higher importance than the inorganic, and to carry forward that -which has no life within, the range of vital phenomenal enhances its -expression. We may illustrate this with the saying of Ferdusi: "The -keenness of my sword <i>devours</i> the brain of the lion, and <i>drinks</i> the -dark blood of the courageous." In a yet more enhanced degree we find -the same result when that which is of Nature and sensuous is imaged, -and thereby raised and ennobled in the form of <i>spiritual</i> phenomena. -So we have such common turns of speech as "<i>smiling</i> fields," and -"<i>angry</i> flood," or in the language of Calderon: "The waves <i>sigh</i> -beneath the burden of ships." In these examples that which exclusively -applies to humanity is diverted to the expression of Nature. The Latin -poets use such metaphorical language often enough, as we may find -in our Virgil, take the example: <i>Quum graviter tunsis gemit area -frugibus</i> (Georg., III, 132).</p> - -<p>Conversely and in the <i>second</i> place that which pertains to mind is -brought in the same way more close to our powers of vision through the -image of natural objects. Such fanciful presentations, however, can -very readily degenerate into mere trifling and far-fetched conceits, -when that which is essentially without life receives notwithstanding -every appearance of individuality, and really spiritual activities are -assigned to it with perfect seriousness. The Italians more especially -have given themselves over to illusive trickery of this kind, and even -Shakespeare is not wholly free from them, as in that passage from -"Richard II"<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_141" id="Page_141">[Pg 141]</a></span> (Act V, sc. I), where he makes the King say to the Queen -on parting:</p> - -<p> -<span style="margin-left: 3em;">For why, the senseless brands will sympathize</span><br /> -<span style="margin-left: 3em;">The heavy accent of thy moving tongue</span><br /> -<span style="margin-left: 3em;">And in compassion weep the fire out;</span><br /> -<span style="margin-left: 3em;">And some will mourn in ashes, some coal-black</span><br /> -<span style="margin-left: 3em;">For the deposing of a rightful king.</span><br /> -</p> - -<p>(<i>γ</i>) Finally, if we look at the aim and interest of that which is -metaphorical, the first thing which strikes us is that a word in the -strict sense is an independently intelligible expression, the metaphor -otherwise. The question consequently presents itself, what is the -reason of this twofold means of expression, or, to put it another way, -why is it that we have the metaphorical which essentially implies -this division? The common explanation is that metaphors are used to -give vivacity to poetical composition, and this animating effect is -the ground in virtue of which Heyne, in particular, insists on their -value. The vivacity consists in the support they offer to imaginative -vision in the direction of clear definition, divesting the word, which -is always something generalized, of its purely indefinite character, -and bringing it home to sense by means of an image. No doubt a greater -degree of vivacity is to be found in metaphors than in the strict -expressions of ordinary speech; genuine vitality, however, is not to -be sought for in metaphors, whether in isolation or combination, whose -figurative plasticity, it is true, may frequently include a relation, -which by good chance attaches at the same time to the expression an -increased perspicuity and a higher definition, but quite as often, if -every detail of the process of thought is thus figuratively emphasized -in isolation, makes the whole unwieldy, overloading it thus with its -emphasis on singular aspects.</p> - -<p>The genius of metaphorical diction is consequently, as we shall have to -elucidate more closely in our consideration of simile, to be regarded -as responding to a need and potency of mind and the emotional life, -which will not rest satisfied with that which is entirely simple, -ordinary, and homely, but make an effort beyond this and over into -something more recondite under the attraction which distinction offers -and the impulse to co-ordinate contrasted effects. This<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_142" id="Page_142">[Pg 142]</a></span> binding -together has itself again various causes, which may be notified as -follows.</p> - -<p>(<i>αα</i>) <i>First</i>, we have it for the sake of <i>reinforcing</i> an effect. The -emotional life, under the pressure and movement of its passions, gives -visible utterance to these forces by means of the piling up of sensuous -image. More than this, it strives to express its own whirl and tumble, -or persistence in the ideas which crowd upon it by means of a similar -letting itself go into phenomena cognate with such a condition, and its -own free movement among images of the greatest variety. In Calderon's -supplication to the Cross Julia utters the following words when she -looks upon the dead body of her only just deceased brother, and her -lover, Eusebio, the man who has killed Lisardo, stands before her:</p> - -<p> -<span style="margin-left: 2.5em;">O that I might close for ever</span><br /> -<span style="margin-left: 2.5em;">Eyes before this blood here guiltless,</span><br /> -<span style="margin-left: 2.5em;">Blood which cries for vengeance with its</span><br /> -<span style="margin-left: 2.5em;">Flooding stream of purple flowers!</span><br /> -<span style="margin-left: 2.5em;">Would that I could deem thee pardoned</span><br /> -<span style="margin-left: 2.5em;">In the rush of tears that blind thee:</span><br /> -<span style="margin-left: 2.5em;">Wounds and eyes are mouths which swallow</span><br /> -<span style="margin-left: 2.5em;">Lies which seek admittance never, etc.</span><br /> -</p> - -<p>With a still more vehement burst of passion Eusebio starts back from -the sight of her, when Julia finally is for surrendering herself to -him, as he exclaims:</p> - -<p> -<span style="margin-left: 2.5em;">Flaming sparks thine eyeballs scatter;</span><br /> -<span style="margin-left: 2.5em;">Every sigh is breath that scorches;</span><br /> -<span style="margin-left: 2.5em;">Every word is a volcano,</span><br /> -<span style="margin-left: 2.5em;">Every hair a scribbled lightning,</span><br /> -<span style="margin-left: 2.5em;">Every word is Death, and every</span><br /> -<span style="margin-left: 2.5em;">Soft caress is Hell's own anguish;</span><br /> -<span style="margin-left: 2.5em;">Such the horror stirs within me</span><br /> -<span style="margin-left: 2.5em;">As I see—O awful symbol,</span><br /> -<span style="margin-left: 2.5em;">Crucifix thy bosom carries.</span><br /> -</p> - -<p>The human soul on the swell of its emotion keeps adding image on image -to that immediately confronting it, and with all this impetuous seeking -to and fro for new means of expression barely lays to rest its own -tumult.</p> - -<p>(<i>ββ</i>) A <i>second</i> rationale of the metaphorical consists in this that -the human soul, after adding to its own depth by<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_143" id="Page_143">[Pg 143]</a></span> this the motion of -its own life into the varied survey of objects cognate with it, is -stirred at the same time to cast itself free of the externality of -such objects, to the extent that it seeks to rediscover itself in what -is external; it transmutes that external in its own free activity, -and by clothing both itself and its passions in the forms of beauty, -proclaims furthermore its power to present in visible semblance its own -exaltation above the bare fact.</p> - -<p>(<i>γγ</i>) A <i>third</i> ground of figurative expression, and one of at -least equal force, may be found in the purely ribald exuberance of -the phantasy, which is unable to set before us an object in its own -outlines for what they are worth, or a significance in its unadorned -simplicity, but on all occasions hankers after some concrete embodiment -cognate with it, or is overmastered by the ingenuity of a personal -caprice, which, in order to escape the commonplace, abandons itself to -the charms of the piquant novelty, a caprice that is never satisfied -until it has discovered for us points of affinity in material the most -remote apparently from that before us, and has thereby related the same -to the most distant objects.</p> - -<p>And we may here observe that it is not so much the <i>prosaic</i> and -<i>poetic</i> style generally as the style of the <i>classic</i> world in -contrast with that of later periods which presents such a marked -difference in the pre-eminent importance they attach to genuine or -metaphorical expression respectively. It is not merely the Greek -philosophers, such as Plato and Aristotle, or the great historians and -orators, such as Thucydides and Demosthenes, but also the great poets, -Homer and Sophocles, who, albeit we find examples of the simile in all -them, remain on the whole, and without exception, constant in the use -of their direct form of expression<a name="FNanchor_95_95" id="FNanchor_95_95"></a><a href="#Footnote_95_95" class="fnanchor">[95]</a>. Their plastic severity and -sterling substance will not permit them such a multifarious product, -as is bound up with the use of metaphor, nor will it suffer them, even -for the sake of gathering the so-called flowers of expression, to waver -fitfully in devious ways from their ideal mintage of the completely -simple and co-ordinate result as of one metal cast in one mould. The -metaphor, in fact, is always an interruption to the logical course of -conception and invariably to that extent a distraction, because it -starts images and brings them<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_144" id="Page_144">[Pg 144]</a></span> together, which are not immediately -connected with the subject and its significance, and for this reason -tend to a like extent to divert the attention from the same to matter -cognate with themselves, but strange to both. The prose of ancient -writers in the extraordinary clarity and flexibility of its utterance -and their poetry in the repose of its completely unfolded content<a name="FNanchor_96_96" id="FNanchor_96_96"></a><a href="#Footnote_96_96" class="fnanchor">[96]</a>, -are equally removed from the frequent use of metaphor by modern writers.</p> - -<p>On the other hand it is particularly in the East, and above all the -later literature of Mohammedan poetry, which makes use of the indirect -or figurative modes of expression, and, indeed, finds them essential. -The same thing may be said, if less emphatically, of modern European -literature. The diction of Shakespeare, for instance, is full of -metaphor. The Spaniards, too, are very fond of this flowery region, -and, indeed, have wandered off into it to the point of the most -tasteless exaggeration and superfluity. Jean Paul falls under the -same charge. Goethe by virtue of the equal strength and clarity of -his vision to a less extent. Schiller, however, is even in his prose -exceedingly rich both in image and metaphor; in his case this is rather -due to his effort to bring really profound ideas within the range of -the imaginative vision without being forced to expound all they imply -for the mind in the technical language of philosophy. We behold and -find there the essential unity of the speculative reason reflected on -the mirror of Life as it stands before us.</p> - -<p>(<i>b</i>) <i>The Image</i></p> - -<p>We may place the <i>image</i> midway between the metaphor and the simile. -It has, in fact, so close an affinity with the metaphor that we may -regard it as merely a metaphor <i>fully amplified</i><a name="FNanchor_97_97" id="FNanchor_97_97"></a><a href="#Footnote_97_97" class="fnanchor">[97]</a>, an aspect which -at the same time marks its very close resemblance to the simile; there -is, however, this distinction, that in the case of the image as such -the significance is not set forth in its independent opposition to<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_145" id="Page_145">[Pg 145]</a></span> -the concrete external object expressly compared with it. That which -we term the image arises when two phenomena or conditions, which by -themselves stand substantially apart, are placed in concurrence so that -one condition supplies the significance which is made intelligible -by means of the other. The first, that is to say, the fundamental -<i>modus</i> of the definition constitutes here the relation of <i>independent -consistency</i><a name="FNanchor_98_98" id="FNanchor_98_98"></a><a href="#Footnote_98_98" class="fnanchor">[98]</a>, and is the line of <i>division</i> of the spheres in -their separation, from which both the significance and its image are -deduced; and that which is common to them, the qualities and relations -and so forth, are not, as in the symbol, the indefinite universal and -substantive itself, but the self-defined concrete existence on the one -side no less than on the other<a name="FNanchor_99_99" id="FNanchor_99_99"></a><a href="#Footnote_99_99" class="fnanchor">[99]</a>.</p> - -<p>(<i>a</i>) Under a relation such as this the image may possess as its -significance a whole series of conditions, activities, contrasts, and -modes of existence, and manifest the same through a series of a similar -nature from an independent if cognate source, without emphasizing in -so many words the significance as such within the limits of the image. -The poem of Goethe, entitled "The Song of Mahomet," is of this kind. -It is merely the title here which shows us that in the image of a -rocky water-spring which, in the freshness of youth, leaps over the -cliff's edge into the abyss, and which then spreads away with the rush -of tributary springs down the plain, ever and anon taking up fraternal -rivers, which gives further a name to localities, and sees whole -towns subject to its glory, until it finally bears in the tumultuous -folds of its rapturous heart all these splendours, the brothers, its -possessions, its children, to the great source that awaits them—it -is, we repeat, merely the title which explains to us that in this -comprehensive and radiant image of a mighty river we have the first -bold appearance of Mahomet, then the rapid spread of his teaching, -and, finally, the deliberately planned attempt to bring all nations -to the <i>one</i> faith set forth with such singular directness. We may -view in a similar way many of the Xenien of Goethe and Schiller, those -sentences edged in part with scorn, but as<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_146" id="Page_146">[Pg 146]</a></span> often the mere vehicle of -good spirits, which were flung at the public and its weak authors in -particular. Take the pair of distiches which follow, as an example:</p> - -<p> -<span style="margin-left: 2.5em;">Stille kneteten wir Salpeter, Kohlen und Sewefel,</span><br /> -<span style="margin-left: 2.5em;">Bohrten Röhren, gefall' nun auch das Feuer work euch!</span><br /> -<br /> -<span style="margin-left: 2.5em;">Einige steigen als leuchtende kugeln und andere zünden,</span><br /> -<span style="margin-left: 2.5em;">Manche auch werfen wir nur spielend das Aug' zu erfreun<a name="FNanchor_100_100" id="FNanchor_100_100"></a><a href="#Footnote_100_100" class="fnanchor">[100]</a>.</span><br /> -</p> - -<p>Ay, we have in truth seen not a few rockets of this order changed -to dull ash, to the exceeding entertainment of the better half of -public opinion, only too delighted when the rabble of commonplace and -miserable quality, which had for a long time spreadeagled it far and -wide and laid down the law, received a genuine smack in the mouth and a -bucket of cold water over its precious body into the bargain.</p> - -<p>(<i>β</i>) In these last examples there is, however, already a <i>second</i> -aspect brought to view, which in our consideration of the image -should be emphasized. In other words the content is in these cases -an <i>individual</i> which acts, brings before us objects, experiences -specific states, etc., and then is reflected in the <i>image</i> not as -such a subject, but merely with a reference to his particular actions, -workings, and experiences. The individual himself as subject is, on -the contrary, introduced without an image, and it is only his actions -and relations strictly viewed which contain the form of indirect -expression. Here, too, as in the case of the image generally, it is -not the <i>entire</i> significance which is separated from its mode of -embodiment, but the subject is alone set forth independently, while -the definite content of that subject receives at the same time the -form of an image; and the result is that the subject is imagined in -such a way as though it was itself the means which supplied the imaged -form of their existence to the objects and actions in question. The -metaphorical relation is, in fact, ascribed to the individual subject -expressly named. This confusion, or at least interfusion of the direct -and indirect modes of expression<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_147" id="Page_147">[Pg 147]</a></span> has frequently been the subject of -adverse criticism, but we do not find very solid ground to support -it<a name="FNanchor_101_101" id="FNanchor_101_101"></a><a href="#Footnote_101_101" class="fnanchor">[101]</a>.</p> - -<p>(<i>γ</i>) Orientals are to an extraordinary degree distinguished by the -bold use they make of this type of imagery. They will unite together -and intertwine in one image entirely <i>independent</i> forms of existence. -Take for example this sentence of Hafiz: "The life-course of the -world is a bloodstained dagger, and the drops which fall therefrom -are crowns." Or that other: "The sword of the sun drips in the red of -morning with the blood of Night, over which it has won the victory." -Or again this: "No one has yet drawn aside the veil from the cheeks of -thought as Hafis since the day when the tips of the locks of the Word's -bride were curled." The meaning of this image may be apparently thus -expanded. Thought is the bride of the word; so Klopstock calls the word -the twin-brother of Thought, and since this bride has been adorned by -man with delicately turned words, no one is likely to be more competent -than Hafis to suffer the thought thus adorned to appear in the clarity -of its unveiled beauty.</p> - -<p>(<i>c</i>) <i>The Simile</i></p> - -<p>From this last type of imagery we may proceed without a break to -the consideration of <i>simile.</i> For in the image we already find the -initial appearance of the independent and imageless expression of -this significance, the subject of the image being here designated. -The two types are, however, distinguished by this that in the simile -everything which exclusively manifests the image in a figurative form -is furthermore able to receive an independently subsistent mode of -expression as significance, which thereby appears alongside of its -image and is placed in comparison with the same. The metaphor and image -declare the significances without making that declaration explicit, -so that it is only<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_148" id="Page_148">[Pg 148]</a></span> the context, in which either metaphor or image -occur, which shows without disguise what their meaning veritably is -intended to be. In the simile, on the contrary, both aspects, image and -significance, albeit no doubt we find at one time it is the image, and -at another the significance which is most clearly and fully emphasized, -are kept completely apart and set forth each in its isolation, and only -then, and in such severation are related to one another in virtue of -the similarity of their content.</p> - -<p>Viewed in this relation it is possible to characterize the simile as -to some extent merely a vain <i>repetition</i>, in so far, that is, as one -and the same content is reproduced in a twofold, or it may be threefold -or fourfold form. In part, too, we may even see in it a frequently -wearisome <i>superfluity</i>, for the reason that the significance is -already there as an independent factor, and requires no further mode -of figuration to render it intelligible. The question consequently -presses upon us here with even more insistence than in the case of the -image and metaphor, what essential interest and object there may be in -the employment of isolated examples or a whole number of similes. For -their use is not to be justified on the commonly received ground of -mere vivacity, and the contention that they increase the lucidity of -expression will assist us just as little. On the contrary similes make -a poem only too frequently insipid and overweighted, and an image or -metaphor by itself can possess a clarity fully as pronounced without -there being any previous necessity to attach the significance to either -as something still outside.</p> - -<p>We must consequently conceive the object of the simile to consist in -this, that the subjective<a name="FNanchor_102_102" id="FNanchor_102_102"></a><a href="#Footnote_102_102" class="fnanchor">[102]</a> imagination of the poet, however much -it has brought home to the artist's consciousness the content, which -it seeks to express, with distinctive emphasis according to its more -abstract generality and expresses it in this universal aspect, yet it -finds itself equally under a constraint to seek out a concrete form -for it, and to envisualize for itself in the phenomena of sense that -which already is clearly before the mind as its significance. Looked -at in this way we shall find that the simile is, no less than the -image and the metaphor, indicative of the bravery which invariably -distinguishes imaginative power<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_149" id="Page_149">[Pg 149]</a></span> when it faces its object, it matters -not what, it may be a single object of sense-perception, a definite -condition, or a general significance—the enterprise, that is, to bind -together with its own activity that which lies remote from it in its -external environment, and by so doing to carry away by force objects of -the greatest variety, and unite them to the interest which its unified -content possesses, and generally to annex to the matter in hand a whole -world of diversified phenomena. And this power of the imagination -continually to find out the new plastic shape, and cement together -heterogeneous material by means of the relations and associations of -sense is, in general terms, also the rational basis of the simile.</p> - -<p>(<i>α</i>) In the <i>first</i> place, then, this impulse to compare can find -satisfaction simply by virtue of the demand which it satisfies, without -bringing to light, that is to say, anything else in the brilliancy of -its images than the bravery of the imagination itself. And this is but -the same thing as that revelry<a name="FNanchor_103_103" id="FNanchor_103_103"></a><a href="#Footnote_103_103" class="fnanchor">[103]</a> of imaginative power, which, more -particularly in the East, with all the easy-going tranquillity of the -South regales itself in the wealth and splendour of its images nor -seeks any other object, while it seduces the hearer to give himself up -to the same spirit. At the same time we are frequently astounded by -the amazing force, with which the poet surrenders himself to ideas of -the most startling contrasts, and displays a cunning of combination -which far exceeds all the effort of mere wittiness as an indication of -genius. Calderon, too, supplies us with many comparisons of this type, -more particularly in his pictures of important and splendid pageants -and festive processions, in his descriptions of chargers and cavaliers, -or in his reference to ships, which on one occasion he calls "birds -without pinions, and fish without fins."</p> - -<p>(<i>β</i>) A <i>second</i> and more intimate aspect of these comparisons is that -in virtue of which we find them to be a <i>tarrying by</i> one and the same -object, which becomes thereby the substantial centre of a series of -other ideas remote from it, by pointing to or illuminating which the -interest of the content compared receives a tangible increase.</p> - -<p>This protraction of the interest round one centre may be explained in -several ways.</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_150" id="Page_150">[Pg 150]</a></span></p> - -<p>(<i>αα</i>) As the <i>first</i> we may draw attention to the <i>absorption</i> of -the soul in the content, which is the source of its <i>animation</i>, and -which attaches itself so intimately to it, that it is unable to detach -itself from the permanent interest thus excited. We may at the same -time observe that a fundamental difference once more asserts itself in -this respect between the poetry of the East and the West resembling -that we have already adverted to our discussion of Pantheism. In -other words the Oriental is in his absorption less dominated by the -personal relation, and consequently without the languish and yearning -of self-interest: his longing, such as it is, remains a more impersonal -delight in the object under comparison, and consequently more of a -contemplation. He looks about him with a free mind, sees in everything -which surrounds him, everything which stirs either his mental faculties -or his heart, an existing image of that which actively concerns his -sense-life and his spiritual forces, and with which he abounds. This -type of the imagination which is free from all mere self-obsession, -delivered, I mean, from all morbid introspection discovers its -satisfaction in the figurative conception of the object itself, and -most of all when that object, by virtue of the comparison instituted, -is extolled, exalted, and declared in line with that which is most -glorious and beautiful. The West is in its general contrast more remote -from this impersonal spirit, and in its grief and pain more inclined to -languish and yearn itself away.</p> - -<p>This dallying, as we may call it, is then pre-eminently an interest -of the <i>emotional</i> life, more particularly of love, which delights -to take refuge in the objects of its suffering and its raptures; and -as often as it finds itself unable to break loose from such feelings -finds naught that is wearisome in the task of repainting the object -ever anew. The lover is above all things the prodigal in wishes, hopes, -and ever changing conceits. Among such conceits we have to reckon -the simile, to which love and the emotions generally have recourse, -all the more readily for the reason that they take up and absorb -the entire soul, and are themselves the independently motive source -of comparison. Whatever is their immediate content, is, that is to -say, a beautiful object arrested in its singularity, whether it be -the mouth, the eye,<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_151" id="Page_151">[Pg 151]</a></span> or the hair of the beloved. In such a state the -human soul is active, restless, and the states of joy and pain are -neither without life nor in repose, but full of activity and motion, -are up and down, which at least is continuous in this that it is for -ever bringing all material of whatever kind into relation with the -one emotional centre of the world of the heart. In other words the -interest of comparison has its root in the feeling itself, which is -insistently conscious of the fact, for example, that there are other -objects in Nature which are beautiful, or have given rise to pain and -so on. Consequently love draws these objects with the aid of the simile -into the sphere of its own content, and makes the same wider and more -universal thereby. If the object of the simile is, however, entirely -<i>isolated</i> in its <i>material</i> form, and brought into juxtaposition with -objects of a similar nature, we shall find, and particularly so where -similes of this sort are piled one on the top of another, that such -a composition is due to emotion of a still rather superficial order, -and to reflection equally wanting in depth; the result will be that -the variety which merely plays round an external material will readily -appear to us insipid and of no vital interest, because we have here -no spiritual relation interpenetrating it. We may illustrate such an -effect from the fourth chapter of the Song of Solomon where we find -the words: "Behold thou art fair, my love; behold, thou art fair; thou -hast doves' eyes within thy locks; thy hair is as a flock of goats, -that appear from mount Gilead. Thy teeth are like a flock of sheep -that are even shorn, which came up from the washing, whereof everyone -bear twins, and none is barren among them. Thy lips are like a thread -of scarlet, and thy speech is comely: thy temples are like a piece of -pomegranate within thy locks. Thy neck is like a tower of David builded -for an armoury, whereon there hang a thousand bucklers, all shields of -mighty men. Thy two breasts are like two young roes that are twins, -which feed among the lilies<a name="FNanchor_104_104" id="FNanchor_104_104"></a><a href="#Footnote_104_104" class="fnanchor">[104]</a>. Until the day break and the shadows -flee away." This <i>naïveté</i> is to be met with in many of the comparisons -of Ossian. Take for example the words: "Thou art as snow on the -heather; thine hair is as mist on the kromla, when<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_152" id="Page_152">[Pg 152]</a></span> he curls himself up -on the rock, and glistens toward the gleam in the West; thine arms are -as two arrows in the halls of the mighty Fingal."</p> - -<p>Of the same kind, only here in wholly a rhetorical way, are the -following words Ovid places in the mouth of Polyphemus (Met. XIII, -vv. 789-807): "Thou art more white, O Galatea, than the leaf of the -snow-white meadowland; more blooming than the fields, more slender than -the elm; more brilliant than glass, more arch than the tender little -roebuck; smoother than the shell ever-polished by the sea; more dear -than Winter's sun, or the shade in Summer; nobler than the fruit-tree, -more comely than the lofty plane." And so on through all the nineteen -hexameters, a description not wanting in rhetorical beauty, but as -the presentation of an emotion, which rouses little interest, itself -equally lacking in interest.</p> - -<p>We may find many examples of this style of comparison in Calderon, -although a halt, by the way, of this kind is more suitable to lyrical -emotion simply, and fetters the march of drama far too insistently, -if it is not actually motived by the subject-matter. Don Juan, for -instance, during the progress of the action, describes at length in -this way the beauty of a veiled lady whom he had followed. This is what -he says to a third person:</p> - -<p> -<span style="margin-left: 2.5em;">Natheless in despite and often</span><br /> -<span style="margin-left: 2.5em;">Through the gross and barriered darkness</span><br /> -<span style="margin-left: 2.5em;">Of that intranslucent veil,</span><br /> -<span style="margin-left: 2.5em;">Flashed a hand of sheen most splendid,</span><br /> -<span style="margin-left: 2.5em;">Mistress pure of rose and lily,</span><br /> -<span style="margin-left: 2.5em;">Princess, to whose matchless glory</span><br /> -<span style="margin-left: 2.5em;">E'en the snow's gleam paid obeisance,</span><br /> -<span style="margin-left: 2.5em;">Slave all murk of Aethiop moulding.</span><br /> -</p> - -<p>The matter is wholly different, however, when any one capable of -<i>profound</i> emotion, expresses his life through images and similes, -in which the most secret folds of spiritual feeling are unveiled, -the soul here either identifying itself with some scene of external -Nature, or making such a scene the counterfeit of a spiritual content. -We may cite Ossian once again in illustration of this better use of -image and comparison, although the range of objects which serve him -in such similitude is jejune, mainly restricted to clouds,<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_153" id="Page_153">[Pg 153]</a></span> mists, -storms, trees, streams, thistles, grasses, and other facts equally -obvious. Here is one of them: "The Present<a name="FNanchor_105_105" id="FNanchor_105_105"></a><a href="#Footnote_105_105" class="fnanchor">[105]</a> brings joy to us, O -Fingal; it is as the sun on Kromla, when the hunter has mourned its -absence a whole year long and now it breaks forth from the clouds." In -another passage of the same writer we find these words: "Did not Ossian -hearken but now to a voice? Is it then the voice of the days that are -no longer? Ofttimes, oft as the evening suns, comes the memory of times -that are gone into my soul." And for another instance take this bit of -narration: "Pleasant are the words of song, saith Kuchullin, and dear -to the heart are the tales of times far away. They are as the quiet -dew of the morning on the hill of the roe-deer, when the sun trembles -faintly on his flank, and the pool lies motionless and blue in the -dale." In the case of Ossian this halting by the same emotions, and -their similitudes expresses the attitude of an old age which out of -weariness and exhaustion turns to sorrowful and painful memories. And -generally a recourse to comparisons is evidence of an inclination to -melancholy and effeminate emotion. The desire and interest of such a -soul lies far away and foregone; and for this reason we find as a rule -that, instead of bracing itself up manfully, it yields to its longing -to lose itself in something else. Many of the figurative expressions -of Ossian consequently are quite as much a response to this wholly -personal mood as they are a reflection of ideas mostly of a mournful -colour, and of the restricted circle beyond which he is unable to pass.</p> - -<p>But, conversely, it is quite possible that <i>passion</i>, in so far as -it is able to concentrate its forces on one content, despite its own -unrest, with the object of finding a counterfeit of the soul in the -natural world around it, may fluctuate to and fro in a variety of -images and similitudes, which are all purely conceits of the fancy -over one and the same object. A fine example of this we have in that -monologue of Juliet from "Romeo and Juliet," in which she apostrophizes -the night as follows:</p> - -<p> -<span style="margin-left: 2.5em;">Come, night; come Romeo; come, thou day in night;</span><br /> -<span style="margin-left: 2.5em;">For thou wilt lie upon the wings of night</span><br /> -<span style="margin-left: 2.5em;">Whiter than new snow on a raven's back:</span><br /> -<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_154" id="Page_154">[Pg 154]</a></span><span style="margin-left: 2.5em;">Come, gentle night, come, loving, black-brow'd night,</span><br /> -<span style="margin-left: 2.5em;">Give me my Romeo; and when he shall die,</span><br /> -<span style="margin-left: 2.5em;">Take him and cut him out in little stars,</span><br /> -<span style="margin-left: 2.5em;">And he will make the face of heaven so fine</span><br /> -<span style="margin-left: 2.5em;">That all the world will be in love with night</span><br /> -<span style="margin-left: 2.5em;">And pay no worship to the garish sun.</span><br /> -</p> - -<p>(<i>ββ</i>) The similes of epic poetry as they come before us over and -over again in Homer stand out in a marked contrast to the above type -of almost purely lyrical simile in which sentiment is absorbed in the -heart of its content. In the former case the aim of the poet, when -he may by any chance wish to dally with the comparative mode around -some specific object, is, on the one hand, interested in raising us -over the active curiosity, expectancy, hope, and fear, by which we are -moved relatively to the several situations and exploits of his heroes -during the actual progress of events over, that is to say, the general -concurrencies of cause, action, and consequence, and in fixing our -attention upon the images which he places before us in their plastic -repose, purely for our contemplation, serene as the works of sculpture. -This repose, this absolution from the merely practical interest that -we may enter into that which he places visibly before our eyes comes -upon us with all the more force in so far as everything with which -he compares the object is taken from a field entirely remote from -it. Moreover, this halting round the simile possesses the further -significance that by virtue of this kind of twofold painting of the -same object its importance is emphasized, and is thus not permitted -to be whirled away in the mere shifting stream of the song and the -events it celebrates. Take, for example, what Homer says of Achilles, -when that hero, fired with anger, confronts Aeneas ("Iliad," XX, vv. -164-175):</p> - -<p> -<span style="margin-left: 2.5em;">As when the harmful king of beasts (sore threatened to be slain</span><br /> -<span style="margin-left: 2.5em;">By all the country up in arms) at first makes coy disdain</span><br /> -<span style="margin-left: 2.5em;">Prepare resistance, but at last when anyone hath led</span><br /> -<span style="margin-left: 2.5em;">Bold charge upon him with his dart, he then turns yawning head,</span><br /> -<span style="margin-left: 2.5em;">Fell anger lathers in his jaws, his great heart swells, his stern</span><br /> -<span style="margin-left: 2.5em;">Lasheth his strength up, sides and thighs waddle with stripes to learn</span><br /> -<span style="margin-left: 2.5em;">Their own power, his eyes glow, he roars, he leaps to kill,</span><br /> -<span style="margin-left: 2.5em;">Secure of killing: so his power then rous'd up to his will</span><br /> -<span style="margin-left: 2.5em;">Matchless Achilles, coming on to meet Anchises' son<a name="FNanchor_106_106" id="FNanchor_106_106"></a><a href="#Footnote_106_106" class="fnanchor">[106]</a>.</span><br /> -</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_155" id="Page_155">[Pg 155]</a></span></p> - -<p>Much in the same spirit he speaks of Pallas, when she averted the arrow -which Pandaros had let fly against Menelaus ("Iliad," IV, vv. 130-131):</p> - -<p>"She did not forget him, and warded off the arrow e'en as a mother -flicks away some fly from her son, as he lies in sweet slumber."</p> - -<p>And again further on when the arrow, notwithstanding, wounds Menelaus -(vv. 141-146):</p> - -<p> -<span style="margin-left: 2.5em;">Yet forth the blood flow'd, which did much his royal person grace,</span><br /> -<span style="margin-left: 2.5em;">And show'd upon his ivory skin, as doth a purple dye</span><br /> -<span style="margin-left: 2.5em;">Laid, by a dame of Caïra, or lovely Maeony,</span><br /> -<span style="margin-left: 2.5em;">On ivory, wrought in ornaments to deck the cheeks of horse;</span><br /> -<span style="margin-left: 2.5em;">Which in her marriage room must lie; whose beauties have such force,</span><br /> -<span style="margin-left: 2.5em;">That they are wish'd of many knights, but are such precious things,</span><br /> -<span style="margin-left: 2.5em;">That they are kept for horse that draw the chariots of kings;</span><br /> -<span style="margin-left: 2.5em;">Which horse, so deck'd, the charioteer esteems a grace to him;</span><br /> -<span style="margin-left: 2.5em;">Like these, in grace, the blood upon thy solid thighs did swim,</span><br /> -<span style="margin-left: 2.5em;">O Menelaus, etc<a name="FNanchor_107_107" id="FNanchor_107_107"></a><a href="#Footnote_107_107" class="fnanchor">[107]</a>.</span><br /> -</p> - -<p>(<i>γ</i>) A <i>third</i> motive cause of similes, quite distinct from that -of purely imaginative riot as also the self-absorbed sentiment or, -under its other aspect, the dallying round important objects with -the figurative power of the fancy, we have now to emphasize with -particular reference to dramatic poetry. The content of the drama is -made up of the conflict of passions, activities, pathos, actions, and -the accomplishment of the thing willed by the soul, a content which -does not, as in the case of the epic, take the form of a narrative of -past events, but the dramatic poet places the individuals themselves -before our eyes and makes them unfold their emotions personally in -an objective form, and their actions as taking place in the present: -his mediate position between ourselves and the objects represented -therefore ceases. Looked at from this point of view it would appear as -though in order to make this presence in Nature clear to us a primary -requirement of drama would be that the expression of passions and -the vehemence of their grief, consternation, and delight should be -painted as naturally as it was possible to paint it, and consequently -the simile would be here out of place. To let individuals, on the -very plane of their action, in the full storm of emotion, and in the -continuous strain of the<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_156" id="Page_156">[Pg 156]</a></span> busy world, speak much in the language of -metaphor or image is obviously, from the commonsense point of view, -an unnatural proceeding and injurious to the directness aimed at. -We are by the simile diverted from the immediate situation, and the -characters, whose actions and emotions are involved in it, to something -external and strange to it, which in short does not strictly belong to -it, as part of its own present; consequently the general course of the -dialogue must unavoidably appear to lag under the interruption thus -imposed. And for this reason it came about also in Germany when at -last our young bloods were all for freeing themselves from the fetters -of French rhetorical taste, that the Spaniards, Italians, and French -were regarded as artists who did nothing more than place their own -personal flights of fancy or witticism, their own conventional attitude -to society and elegance of speech in the mouth of their dramatic -characters in situations, too, when the very tempest of emotion cried -out for Nature's most direct expression to the exclusion of all other. -We find as a result of such an insistence on the principle of realism -that in many dramas, which hail from this time, the outcry of emotion, -with all the exclamatory signs and hyphens which may render its nudity -more visible, takes the place of a noble and dignified diction, rich -in image and simile. In much the same sense even English critics -have often charged Shakespeare with a superabundant and too varied -recourse to the simile, some of which he not unfrequently will attach -to characters in the full strain of personal bereavement, where the -stress of emotion least of all admits of the tranquillity necessary to -reflection, the attitude of mind which is indispensable to this type of -comparison. We may no doubt admit that now and again we meet with in -Shakespeare an exaggerated tendency to pile up image upon image, and -that his diction is thereby overweighted. At the same time we shall -see, if we examine the matter in all its bearings, that even in drama -the simile is entitled to a position essential to this form of poetry -and vital to its action.</p> - -<p>In other words if the emotion makes a pause in similes for the reason -that it is absorbed in its object and is unable to free itself -therefrom, there is also on the plane of <i>active life</i> a distinct -purpose subserved by it, namely, to indicate<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_157" id="Page_157">[Pg 157]</a></span> that the individual is -not thus so exclusively preoccupied with the particular situation or -state of the emotions then uppermost, but possesses a fine and noble -nature superior to such conditions and able to assert its independence. -In passion soul-life is restricted and fettered to its own seclusion, -narrowed down to the point of concentrated heat, either thereby a -mute, an ejaculation of monosyllables, or the rage that vents itself -at random. Greatness of soul and intellectual power alike refuse to -submit to such limitations: they are wings which carry the soul in -a fine tranquillity over and above the storm of pathos that moves -it. It is this deliverance of the soul, which the simile primarily -expresses by the very mode under which it is asserted. In other words -it is only a really profound composure and strength which is able to -make itself the object of its pain and suffering, to compare itself -with something else, and by doing so to view itself impartially<a name="FNanchor_108_108" id="FNanchor_108_108"></a><a href="#Footnote_108_108" class="fnanchor">[108]</a> -in a strange material; or it may be in a mood of the most terrible -scorn to set forth in the external thing the confronting image of its -own annihilation, and still persist in the repose of its own obdurate -forces. In epical poetry, as we before observed, it was the poet's -undoubted function to transmit to his audience, by means of those halts -by the way which his picturesque similitudes offered, that sense of -tranquillity which is essential to fine art. In dramatic art, on the -contrary, the <i>dramatis personae</i> appear as themselves the <i>poets</i> -and <i>artists.</i> Here it is the characters who objectify their own -soul-life in that which they are powerful enough to imagine and inform, -thereby further manifesting to us the nobility of their receptive -faculties and the inherent force of their emotional resources<a name="FNanchor_109_109" id="FNanchor_109_109"></a><a href="#Footnote_109_109" class="fnanchor">[109]</a>. -For this absorption into something else that is external is now<a name="FNanchor_110_110" id="FNanchor_110_110"></a><a href="#Footnote_110_110" class="fnanchor">[110]</a> -the deliverance of the world within from a purely practical interest, -or at least is that which lifts the immediacy of emotion to the level -of forms the soul may contemplate in freedom; and for this reason -every comparison instituted simply for the comparison's sake in the -way we have already<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_158" id="Page_158">[Pg 158]</a></span> observed it under the first aspect of the simile -discussed, is vindicated now in a much profounder sense than was then -possible; it can now only appear as a victory over the exclusive -obsession of passion and the release from its masterdom. In following -up the course of this liberating process we will now emphasize several -important distinctions to illustrate which we shall borrow exclusively -from Shakespeare.</p> - -<p>(<i>αα</i>) Now in the first place we would observe that when we have a soul -set before us about to meet with a grave misfortune, by which it will -be shaken to its depths, and the pain of this inevitable cataclysm -is at length actually entered upon, it would be nothing less than an -indication of a nature essentially commonplace if it were there and -then to break out into the cry of horror, pain, and desperation, and so -make a clean breast of it. A strong and noble spirit on the contrary -holds its lamentation as such in reserve, keeps a hand of iron upon its -pain, and by this means preserves a free power to embody in far-distant -material imaginatively presented the profound sense of its anguish, -and to express its own tragic state under the image of that which is -remote. Thus man rises superior to his suffering; he is not utterly -with all that is in him bondman to it; rather he is as wholly distinct -from it as he is one with it; and consequently he can still pause -before that which is outside and beyond him, which he relates to his -emotion as an independent force cognate with his own. This will explain -to us those words of the old Northumberland in Shakespeare's "Henry -IV," when he inquires of the messenger who comes to inform him of the -death of Percy, what news he brings him of his son and his brother, -and, on receiving no reply, gives utterance to the composure of the -most poignant grief as follows:</p> - -<p> -<span style="margin-left: 2.5em;">Thou tremblest; and the whiteness of thy cheek</span><br /> -<span style="margin-left: 2.5em;">Is apter than thy tongue to tell thy errand.</span><br /> -<span style="margin-left: 2.5em;">Even such a man, so faint, so spiritless,</span><br /> -<span style="margin-left: 2.5em;">So dull, so dead in look, so woe-begone,</span><br /> -<span style="margin-left: 2.5em;">Drew Priam's curtain in the dead of night,</span><br /> -<span style="margin-left: 2.5em;">And would have told him half his Troy was burnt;</span><br /> -<span style="margin-left: 2.5em;">But Priam found the fire ere he his tongue,</span><br /> -<span style="margin-left: 2.5em;">And I my Percy's death ere thou report'st it<a name="FNanchor_111_111" id="FNanchor_111_111"></a><a href="#Footnote_111_111" class="fnanchor">[111]</a>.</span><br /> -</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_159" id="Page_159">[Pg 159]</a></span></p> - -<p>This attitude of the soul, which spins about itself as it were -the garments of its pain, and yet retains the power throughout to -image itself under new modes of comparison, receives a particularly -striking illustration in the character of Richard II, where we find -him repentant over the youthful frivolity of his days of prosperity. -In fact there is no trait in this royal grief that is more touching -or suggestive of a child's simplicity than the fact that he always -expresses himself under the objective form of most pertinent images, -and in the play of this type of self-expression preserves his suffering -all the more profoundly. When, for example, Henry demands of him the -crown, he replies:</p> - -<p> -<span style="margin-left: 2.5em;">Give me the crown. Here, cousin, seize the crown;</span><br /> -<span style="margin-left: 2.5em;">Here cousin;</span><br /> -<span style="margin-left: 2.5em;">On this side my hand, and on that side yours.</span><br /> -<span style="margin-left: 2.5em;">Now is this golden crown like a deep well</span><br /> -<span style="margin-left: 2.5em;">That owes two buckets, filling one another,</span><br /> -<span style="margin-left: 2.5em;">The emptier ever dancing in the air,</span><br /> -<span style="margin-left: 2.5em;">The other down, unseen and full of water.</span><br /> -<span style="margin-left: 2.5em;">That bucket down and full of tears am I,</span><br /> -<span style="margin-left: 2.5em;">Drinking my griefs while you mount up on high<a name="FNanchor_112_112" id="FNanchor_112_112"></a><a href="#Footnote_112_112" class="fnanchor">[112]</a>.</span><br /> -</p> - - -<p>(<i>ββ</i>) The other aspect to which we would now draw attention is this, -namely, that a character which is already made one with its interests, -its sorrow, and its destiny, endeavours by means of the simile to -release itself from this immediate union, and makes this deliverance -obvious to us by the very fact that it shows itself still able to -deduce such similitudes. In "Henry VIII,"<a name="FNanchor_113_113" id="FNanchor_113_113"></a><a href="#Footnote_113_113" class="fnanchor">[113]</a> for instance, the Queen -Katherine, on being forsaken by her royal consort, expresses the depth -of her desolation in the words:</p> - -<p> -<span style="margin-left: 2.5em;">I am the most unhappy woman living!</span><br /> -<span style="margin-left: 2.5em;">Alas, poor wenches, where are now your fortunes?</span><br /> -<span style="margin-left: 2.5em;">Shipwreck'd upon a kingdom, where no pity,</span><br /> -<span style="margin-left: 2.5em;">No friends, no hope; no kindred weep for me;</span><br /> -<span style="margin-left: 2.5em;">Almost no grave allow'd me: like the lily,</span><br /> -<span style="margin-left: 2.5em;">That once was mistress of the field and flourish'd,</span><br /> -<span style="margin-left: 2.5em;">I'll hang my head and perish.</span><br /> -</p> - -<p>In a still more admirable manner in "Julius Caesar"<a name="FNanchor_114_114" id="FNanchor_114_114"></a><a href="#Footnote_114_114" class="fnanchor">[114]</a><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_160" id="Page_160">[Pg 160]</a></span> Brutus -exclaims to Cassius, to whose want of spirit he has vainly striven to -give the spur:</p> - -<p> -<span style="margin-left: 2.5em;">O Cassius, you are yoked with a lamb</span><br /> -<span style="margin-left: 2.5em;">That carries anger as the flint bears fire;</span><br /> -<span style="margin-left: 2.5em;">Who, much enforced, shows a hasty spark,</span><br /> -<span style="margin-left: 2.5em;">And straight is cool again.</span><br /> -</p> - -<p>That Brutus in such a situation can find room for a simile is already -an excellent proof that he himself has thrust his scorn into the -background, and has begun to assert himself as master of it.</p> - -<p>For the most part Shakespeare, by endowing his criminal characters -with greatness of soul in crime no less than in misfortune, exalts -them before he leaves them above their own evil passions: he will not -let them rest in the purely abstract assertion of crimes they are for -ever going to do, but never really commit, as is the French style, but -actually infuses them with the imaginative power, by means of which -they stand out before us as distinctly as any other personification -that is new to us. Macbeth, for instance, when his last hour has -struck<a name="FNanchor_115_115" id="FNanchor_115_115"></a><a href="#Footnote_115_115" class="fnanchor">[115]</a>, exclaims in the well-known words:</p> - -<p> -<span style="margin-left: 9.5em;">Out, out, brief candle!</span><br /> -<span style="margin-left: 2.5em;">Life's but a walking shadow, a poor player</span><br /> -<span style="margin-left: 2.5em;">That struts and frets his hour upon the stage</span><br /> -<span style="margin-left: 2.5em;">And then is heard no more: it is a tale</span><br /> -<span style="margin-left: 2.5em;">Told by an idiot, full of sound and fury</span><br /> -<span style="margin-left: 2.5em;">Signifying nothing.</span><br /> -</p> - -<p>The same thing may be said of those last words of Cardinal Wolsey in -"Henry VIII,"<a name="FNanchor_116_116" id="FNanchor_116_116"></a><a href="#Footnote_116_116" class="fnanchor">[116]</a> uttered at the close of his career when struck down -from the summit of his greatness:</p> - -<p> -<span style="margin-left: 2.5em;">Farewell! a long farewell to all my greatness!</span><br /> -<span style="margin-left: 2.5em;">This is the state of man: to-day he puts forth</span><br /> -<span style="margin-left: 2.5em;">The tender leaves of hopes: to-morrow blossoms,</span><br /> -<span style="margin-left: 2.5em;">And bears his blushing honours thick upon him;</span><br /> -<span style="margin-left: 2.5em;">The third day comes a frost, a killing frost;</span><br /> -<span style="margin-left: 2.5em;">And when he thinks, good easy man, full surely</span><br /> -<span style="margin-left: 2.5em;">His greatness is a-ripening, nips his root,</span><br /> -<span style="margin-left: 2.5em;">And then he falls, as I do.</span><br /> -</p> - -<p>(<i>γγ</i>) In this impersonal relation of objective fact and its expression -of the comparative mode, the repose and substantial<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_161" id="Page_161">[Pg 161]</a></span> self-command of -character returns to itself; it is the means whereby the pain of a -great downfall is softened. So Cleopatra exclaims<a name="FNanchor_117_117" id="FNanchor_117_117"></a><a href="#Footnote_117_117" class="fnanchor">[117]</a> to Charmian, -after she has already put the mortal aspic to her breast:</p> - -<p> -<span style="margin-left: 14.5em;">Peace, peace!</span><br /> -<span style="margin-left: 2.5em;">Dost thou not see my baby at my breast,</span><br /> -<span style="margin-left: 2.5em;">That sucks the nurse asleep?</span><br /> -<span style="margin-left: 2.5em;">As sweet as balm, as soft as air, as gentle—</span><br /> -</p> - -<p>The bite of the serpent relaxes her members so gently that Death is -himself deceived and holds himself to be Sleep. And this image may well -pass as itself a counterfeit of the mild and allaying influence of such -similitudes.</p> - - -<h6>C. THE DISAPPEARANCE OF THE SYMBOLIC TYPE OF ART</h6> - -<p><i>Didactic</i>, <i>descriptive poetry and the ancient epigram.</i></p> - -<p>The conception we have in general terms formed of the symbolic type -of art is such that within it significance and expression are unable -to unite sufficiently to appear in complete and reciprocal fusion. -In unconscious symbolism the <i>incompatibility</i> of these two aspects -remained a fact throughout, if not actually <i>declared</i> as such; in the -Sublime on the contrary this inadequacy was <i>explicitly</i> asserted: -the absolute significance, God, no less than His external reality, -the world, are expressly represented in this excluding relation to -one another. On the other hand, however, in all these types that -further aspect of symbolism, namely, the <i>affinity</i> which obtains -between the significance and the external form, in which it is visibly -manifested, still retained its importance. In the original type of -symbolism this was exclusively the case, a type which did not as yet -set forth the significance in contrast to its concrete existence. -But in the Sublime, too, it remained an <i>essential</i> relation, a type -which, in order to express the Supreme Being, if here under a wholly -inadequate mode, required as its means the phenomena of Nature, and the -events and exploits of God's chosen people. And finally it reappears -in the comparative type of art a personal relation and one that is -consequently amenable to<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_162" id="Page_162">[Pg 162]</a></span> <i>caprice.</i> This element of caprice, however, -albeit it is an entirely present fact and particularly so in the case -of the metaphor, image, and simile, is notwithstanding still hidden -away behind the <i>affinity</i> between the significance and the image -utilized to express it, in so far as it selects the comparison simply -out of a regard for their mutual resemblance, a fundamental aspect of -which is not so much the <i>external</i> form as just this <i>relation</i> set up -between them by the activity of the soul and consisting in subjective -emotions, points of view and ideas and their cognate modes of -configuration<a name="FNanchor_118_118" id="FNanchor_118_118"></a><a href="#Footnote_118_118" class="fnanchor">[118]</a>. When, however, it is not the notion of the material -itself, but simply a capricious use of the judgment, which brings -together the content and its artistic form, both can only be conceived -as posited in an entirely external relation to one another; their -association is now a juxtaposition without essential relation, simply -a dressing up, that is to say, of the one side by the other. For this -reason we have here to treat these last-mentioned and subordinate types -of art by way of supplement. They arise from the absolute collapse of -the essential phases in all true art-production; they bring before us, -in short, by their independence of the principle of relativity the -suicide of the symbolic type.</p> - -<p>If we view this stage generally as a whole we find on the one hand -already as wholly independent the elaborate but formless significance, -for the artistic shaping of which all that we can now supply is an -external ornament selected at caprice to set it off. On the other side -we have the external mode pure and simple. That is to say, instead of -being mediated in its identity with that on which it is imposed by the -fact that this is its own essentially cognate significance it can now -only be accepted and described in the aspect of its self-subsistence -over against this <i>centrum</i> of significance, and consequently only -as mere externality. From the above contrasted aspects we may -differentiate in abstract terms <i>didactic</i> from <i>descriptive</i> poetry, -a distinction which so far at least as the didactic is concerned is -only to be made good under the poetic type for the reason that this -alone<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_163" id="Page_163">[Pg 163]</a></span> is able to bring before us the significance in its abstract -universality.</p> - -<p>Inasmuch, however, as the notion of art does not consist in the -dissociation, but the identification of significance and form we find -even at this stage not only a complete separation, but also in line -with that, a relation asserted between the sides thus opposed. This -relation, however, now that the partition line of symbolism has already -been <i>crossed</i>, is no longer of a symbolic nature, and is therefore -an attempt to abolish the fundamental characteristics of that type, -namely, the incompatibility, and at the same time the self-subsistence -of form and content, a position that all the previous types were unable -to transcend. Owing, however, to the separation of the two sides, -which thus make for unity, being already presupposed by this type -this attempt can only be looked upon as a mere aspiration<a name="FNanchor_119_119" id="FNanchor_119_119"></a><a href="#Footnote_119_119" class="fnanchor">[119]</a>, to -completely satisfy which in all that it involves is reserved for a more -perfect type of art, namely, the classical.</p> - -<p>We will now briefly glance at these supplementary forms, in order to -make our passage from them to the real type above mentioned more fully -intelligible.</p> - - -<p style="font-size: 0.8em;">1. THE DIDACTIC POEM</p> - -<p>When a significance, which as such co-ordinates a homogeneous -<i>complexus</i> of relations, is apprehended exclusively as significance, -yet does not receive the form strictly adequate to this content, but -is merely invested with the external ornamentation of art, then we -have before us the didactic poem. The didactic poem does not figure -among the genuine types of art. For in it we find on the one hand a -content already completely elaborated under a mode that is thereby -necessarily prosaic, while on the other we have the artistic form, -which is merely tacked to it in an external way, for this very reason -that it had already been accepted by the mind in a form stamped with -<i>prose</i> throughout, and is merely exhibited to our common sense or -reflective faculties as instruction under this prosaic aspect, that is -to say,<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_164" id="Page_164">[Pg 164]</a></span> with an exclusive reference to the significance embodied in -its abstract and general terms. Consequently art, in this its external -relation to a content so essentially foreign to its real informing -process, can only recognize in the didactic poem its external aspects, -such as metre, exalted language, episodic matter, images, similes, -ebullitions of sentiment, points of acceleration and transition in -the march of ideas, aspects in short which do not give us the heart -of the content as such, but rather surround it as an incidental -accretion, with the object of alleviating and making more enjoyable the -serious and dry tone of the didactic material by means of their more -inspiriting atmosphere. That which is intrinsically, in the fundamental -conception of it, relegated to prose, cannot receive the poet's -mintage, though it may be the peg on which he may hang his mantle<a name="FNanchor_120_120" id="FNanchor_120_120"></a><a href="#Footnote_120_120" class="fnanchor">[120]</a>. -Just as we find, for example, that the art of gardening is in great -measure a purely external rearrangement of what is already presented us -by Nature, but not necessarily of that which is itself a truly lovely -locality; or as the art of building ameliorates by its ornament and -external decoration a locality which has been expressly devoted to -prosaic purposes and affairs.</p> - -<p>In this way Greek Philosophy made a start under the mode of the -didactic poem. We may even adduce Hesiod as an example, albeit a -prosaic treatment of this kind in its strict sense is only fully -assured when the understanding is undisputed master of the subject -with its train of reflections, consequences, and classifications, and -instructs us from this standpoint alone in as pleasing and elegant a -way as it can. Lucretius, too, in his relations to the philosophy of -Epicurus, and Vergil, with the information he supplies on agriculture, -are in part examples of the same type. Despite all their artistic -adroitness they are unable to give their versification the genuine -spontaneity of the artistic form. In Germany the didactic poem is -new out of fashion; in France Delille, in addition to his previous -efforts entitled "Les jardins, ou l'art d'embellir les paysages," and -his "Homme des champs," has presented his compatriots with a further -example of the didactic poem, in which he has treated physical science -as<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_165" id="Page_165">[Pg 165]</a></span> compendiously through its forms of magnetism, electricity and the -rest.</p> - - -<p style="font-size: 0.8em;">2. DESCRIPTIVE POETRY</p> - -<p>The <i>second</i> type which we have to examine stands out in direct -contrast to the previous one. The point of departure here is not from a -significance already present before the mind in an independent form of -its own, but from external objects simply such as natural localities, -buildings, seasons of the year or periods of time, and the modes under -which they are presented to sense. But as we found in the didactic -poem the content persisted in formless <i>generality</i> so far as its -essential character was concerned, so here, if in a converse manner, -the <i>external material</i> is <i>independently</i> set forth in the singularity -which pertains to it simply as phenomenon without being drawn within -the circle of the significances apparent to mind; and it is this -particularity which is depicted and described in its external aspect -precisely as it appears to the matter-of-fact consciousness. Such a -sensuous content has no relation to true art whatever, except under the -<i>one</i> feature, namely, that of its external existence; and this can -only claim art's recognition in so far as it represents the natural -basis of <i>spiritual</i> life and individuality, its actions and events, -the facts, that is to say, which constitute an environing world; as -merely external form separated by itself from all that pertains to such -life it has no such claim.</p> - - -<p style="font-size: 0.8em;">3. RELATION OF BOTH ASPECTS</p> - -<p>On grounds deducible from the above, neither the instructive nor the -descriptive type is secured in the exclusive one-sidedness which would -obliterate every vestige of art, and we find in the one case that the -external reality is brought into appreciable relation with that which -is seized by mind as significance, just as conversely in the other the -abstract universal is related to its concrete mode of appearance.</p> - -<p>(<i>a</i>) We have already explained how this is so in the case of the -didactic poem. Without depicting external conditions and particular -phenomena, without the episodical narration of mythological and other -illustrations we shall rarely find a<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_166" id="Page_166">[Pg 166]</a></span> genuine example of it. By means, -however, of a parallel series of this character in which the universal -for mind is thus laid alongside of the particular object of sense we -have merely a quite collateral relation set up instead of a union -carried out in every detail, a parallelogism, moreover, which does not -affect the entire content and its all-embracing artistic form, but -merely isolated aspects and traits.</p> - -<p>(<i>b</i>) Such a modicum of true relation is particularly conspicuous in -the case of descriptive poetry, in so far as its delineations are -accompanied with such emotions as the sight of natural landscape, the -course of the days and seasons, a wooded hill, a lake, a babbling -brook, a church, a picturesquely situated village and the poor man's -peaceful cottage are likely to arouse. We find consequently in -descriptive poetry much as we do in the didactic poem episodes which, -although merely accessory, animate us, in particular through the -reflection of affecting emotions, such as a tender melancholy or little -touches of occasional experience taken from the more homely levels of -life. Such an association of spiritual feeling with the external facts -of Nature can still only too easily in this type of poetry remain -wholly external in its presentation. For the natural or local condition -is here assumed to be something which quite independently confronts -us. Man no doubt draws near to it; under its influence he entertains -this or that feeling, but there is nothing which essentially unites -moonlight, forests, valleys, landscape, and so on, with the emotions -of the soul they excite. I am not here either the interpreter or the -animating focus of Nature, but feel, as each happens to confront me, -a wholly indefinite kind of harmonious reciprocity establish itself -between the objects I face and the emotional life which they stimulate. -Most of all are we Germans devoted to this type of picturesque -description, and along with it to every variety of exquisite feeling -and heart effervescence such natural scenery can possibly evoke. It is -a public high-road over which all may march in line. Even some of the -odes of Klopstock are tuned to its key.</p> - -<p>(<i>c</i>) But <i>thirdly</i>, if we inquire whether there is not a profounder -relation between these opposed aspects of the internal feeling and -external object, we shall find our nearest approach to an answer in the -ancient <i>epigram.</i></p> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_167" id="Page_167">[Pg 167]</a></span></p> - -<p>(<i>α</i>) The very name of the epigram already expresses the original gist -of it. It is an <i>inscription.</i></p> - -<p>Unquestionably we find, also here on the one hand an object, and on -the other we have a definite statement propounded as to this object; -but in the most ancient epigrams, among which Hesiod has preserved a -few examples, we do not have the picture of an object accompanied by -any reaction of feeling, rather we find, the matter of fact put before -us in two distinct ways. In the one the external existence, and with -it the meaning thereof and explanation, is concentrated in its form -as epigram on the keenest and most forcible of its characteristics. -This original characterization of the epigram, however, even among the -Greeks, later examples have already lost; and we find an increasing -tendency both to secure and apply the passing conceits of fancy, -whether ingenious, witty, or merely entertaining, to particular -incidents, works of art, people and so on, ideas in short which do not -so much set forth the object itself, as illustrate the condition of -personal feeling in reference to the same.</p> - -<p>(<i>β</i>) The main point to observe here is this that, just in proportion -as the object itself fails as such to become the predominant factor -in this type of presentment to that extent it becomes less complete. -In this connection we may also in passing mention a few more modern -examples of an analogous nature. The novels of Tieck, for instance, -not unfrequently have to deal with specific works of art or artists, -or a definite gallery of pictures, composition of music and so forth, -and they have then some nice little romance attached. These particular -pictures, however, which the reader has never seen, these compositions, -which he has never heard, the poet obviously can neither bring before -our eyes nor ears. From this point of view the entire expression of his -art, in so far as it depends on objects of this nature, must remain -subject to this defect. In the same way in yet more important romances -writers have sought to embody as the real content of their work entire -arts, and their finest productions as Heinse, for instance, did with -that of music in his <i>Hildegard von Hohenthal.</i> But in every case -where we find that a work of art throughout is unable to reproduce -with essential<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_168" id="Page_168">[Pg 168]</a></span> adequacy its fundamental subject-matter, we can -only conclude that the primary cause of this defect arises from the -inadequacy of the type of art selected.</p> - -<p>(<i>γ</i>) To remove the defects above adverted to two things are clearly -essential; the objective fact and the explanation of it which is -offered to mind must not be suffered to fall into absolute <i>severation</i> -as was the case in the type last considered, nor must the union when -effected, an equally important point, assume a character <i>identical</i> -with either the symbolical, sublime or purely comparative types. A yet -more genuine form of presentment must be sought for under a condition -in which we find that the fact in question supplies an elucidation -of its ideal content by means of its external mode of appearance, -and actually in this mode, a condition under which that which is of -spirit unfolds itself completely in the form of its reality, and the -corporeal and external presence is simply the adequate explication of -the spiritual and ideal. In order, however, to follow up this problem -to its complete <i>fulfilment</i> we must bid farewell to the symbolic types -of art. For the essential character of symbolism consisted precisely in -this that the union of the animating principle of the significance with -its spatial embodiment always <i>stopped short</i> of such completeness.</p> -<hr class="r5" /> -<div class="footnote"> - -<p><a name="Footnote_76_76" id="Footnote_76_76"></a><a href="#FNanchor_76_76"><span class="label">[76]</span></a> In other words everything created being posited as -unsubstantial apart from the One necessitated the conclusion that -all the Goodness, etc., there divulged was referable to that Supreme -Source.</p></div> - -<div class="footnote"> - -<p><a name="Footnote_77_77" id="Footnote_77_77"></a><a href="#FNanchor_77_77"><span class="label">[77]</span></a> <i>Bewussten</i>, that is a symbolism conscious of its typical -character. I have above used the expression "premeditated," but -"conscious" is perhaps sufficient.</p></div> - -<div class="footnote"> - -<p><a name="Footnote_78_78" id="Footnote_78_78"></a><a href="#FNanchor_78_78"><span class="label">[78]</span></a> I understand <i>auf solche Weise,</i> "under such a mode as -expressed either by Symbolism or the Sublime."</p></div> - -<div class="footnote"> - -<p><a name="Footnote_79_79" id="Footnote_79_79"></a><a href="#FNanchor_79_79"><span class="label">[79]</span></a> It is prosaic because it has no absolute root in reality.</p></div> - -<div class="footnote"> - -<p><a name="Footnote_80_80" id="Footnote_80_80"></a><a href="#FNanchor_80_80"><span class="label">[80]</span></a> Lit., "As consciousness lays hold of the same in the -clear light of ordinary reason" (<i>seiner verständigen Klarheit.</i>)</p></div> - -<div class="footnote"> - -<p><a name="Footnote_81_81" id="Footnote_81_81"></a><a href="#FNanchor_81_81"><span class="label">[81]</span></a> <i>Theoretische</i>, that is personal, contemplative rather -than practical.</p></div> - -<div class="footnote"> - -<p><a name="Footnote_82_82" id="Footnote_82_82"></a><a href="#FNanchor_82_82"><span class="label">[82]</span></a> Lit., "and his freedom secludes itself with a prophetic -instinct (<i>ahndend</i>) in itself."</p></div> - -<div class="footnote"> - -<p><a name="Footnote_83_83" id="Footnote_83_83"></a><a href="#FNanchor_83_83"><span class="label">[83]</span></a> <i>Wie die Faust auf das Auge passt.</i> A proverbial -expression unknown to me. We should rather say "a beam in our eyes."</p></div> - -<div class="footnote"> - -<p><a name="Footnote_84_84" id="Footnote_84_84"></a><a href="#FNanchor_84_84"><span class="label">[84]</span></a> As contrasted, that is, with the fable.</p></div> - -<div class="footnote"> - -<p><a name="Footnote_85_85" id="Footnote_85_85"></a><a href="#FNanchor_85_85"><span class="label">[85]</span></a> An Indian dancing girl.</p></div> - -<div class="footnote"> - -<p><a name="Footnote_86_86" id="Footnote_86_86"></a><a href="#FNanchor_86_86"><span class="label">[86]</span></a> Hegel uses the term in the plural, <i>Die Verwandlungen</i>, -possibly with reference to Ovid's Metamorphoses.</p></div> - -<div class="footnote"> - -<p><a name="Footnote_87_87" id="Footnote_87_87"></a><a href="#FNanchor_87_87"><span class="label">[87]</span></a> <i>Standpunkt, i.e.</i>, the form viewed relatively to the -general type.</p></div> - -<div class="footnote"> - -<p><a name="Footnote_88_88" id="Footnote_88_88"></a><a href="#FNanchor_88_88"><span class="label">[88]</span></a> <i>Beseelung.</i></p></div> - -<div class="footnote"> - -<p><a name="Footnote_89_89" id="Footnote_89_89"></a><a href="#FNanchor_89_89"><span class="label">[89]</span></a> Plastic must be taken here in the very loose and pregnant -sense of any art that deals with external material.</p></div> - -<div class="footnote"> - -<p><a name="Footnote_90_90" id="Footnote_90_90"></a><a href="#FNanchor_90_90"><span class="label">[90]</span></a> <i>Ein grammatisches Subject.</i> Hegel presumably means that -it is merely subject under the mode of literary expression without -possessing the true determination of personality.</p></div> - -<div class="footnote"> - -<p><a name="Footnote_91_91" id="Footnote_91_91"></a><a href="#FNanchor_91_91"><span class="label">[91]</span></a> <i>Aushöhlen muss.</i> We should rather say that the -allegorist is forced to attenuate (lit. hollow out) the substance of -subjectivity, etc. But I have left the more literal rendering.</p></div> - -<div class="footnote"> - -<p><a name="Footnote_92_92" id="Footnote_92_92"></a><a href="#FNanchor_92_92"><span class="label">[92]</span></a> In the German <i>fassen</i>, <i>begreifen.</i></p></div> - -<div class="footnote"> - -<p><a name="Footnote_93_93" id="Footnote_93_93"></a><a href="#FNanchor_93_93"><span class="label">[93]</span></a> <i>Einer konkreten Anschauung.</i> That is, a quality or -feature that belongs to the phenomena of the concrete world of -perception.</p></div> - -<div class="footnote"> - -<p><a name="Footnote_94_94" id="Footnote_94_94"></a><a href="#FNanchor_94_94"><span class="label">[94]</span></a> Of course this is not so in the English equivalent, where -the primary sense is still material.</p></div> - -<div class="footnote"> - -<p><a name="Footnote_95_95" id="Footnote_95_95"></a><a href="#FNanchor_95_95"><span class="label">[95]</span></a> Lit., "Of expressions in the strict sense of the term."</p></div> - -<div class="footnote"> - -<p><a name="Footnote_96_96" id="Footnote_96_96"></a><a href="#FNanchor_96_96"><span class="label">[96]</span></a> <i>Ihr ruhiger vollständig ausgestaltender Sinn.</i> The -meaning that declares itself completely through the form in classic -repose.</p></div> - -<div class="footnote"> - -<p><a name="Footnote_97_97" id="Footnote_97_97"></a><a href="#FNanchor_97_97"><span class="label">[97]</span></a> <i>Ausführliche</i>, explicit in all its detail.</p></div> - -<div class="footnote"> - -<p><a name="Footnote_98_98" id="Footnote_98_98"></a><a href="#FNanchor_98_98"><span class="label">[98]</span></a> <i>Das Für-sich-seyn.</i></p></div> - -<div class="footnote"> - -<p><a name="Footnote_99_99" id="Footnote_99_99"></a><a href="#FNanchor_99_99"><span class="label">[99]</span></a> I give the literal translation. I presume a more -intelligible one would be "but actual existence in its self-defined -concreteness." The passage is not easy to follow.</p></div> - -<div class="footnote"> - -<p><a name="Footnote_100_100" id="Footnote_100_100"></a><a href="#FNanchor_100_100"><span class="label">[100]</span></a> -</p> -<p> -<span style="margin-left: 2.5em;">Silent we pounded up carbon, saltpeter, and sulphur,</span><br /> -<span style="margin-left: 2.5em;">Set the train going. Good friend! How did our cracker find <i>you?</i></span><br /> -</p> -<p> -<span style="margin-left: 2.5em;">Some as illuminate balls soared prodigious while others exploded,</span><br /> -<span style="margin-left: 2.5em;">Many we flashed in our fun simply the eye to delight.</span><br /> -</p></div> - -<div class="footnote"> - -<p><a name="Footnote_101_101" id="Footnote_101_101"></a><a href="#FNanchor_101_101"><span class="label">[101]</span></a> I find this analysis of the image more than usually -difficult to follow, I have therefore made my translation very literal. -I must confess that this distinction between the image and the metaphor -appears to me rather an example of hyper-subtlety on Hegel's part, or -as some might say, an effort to make what is virtually only a verbal -distinction correspond to a more real difference of idea.</p></div> - -<div class="footnote"> - -<p><a name="Footnote_102_102" id="Footnote_102_102"></a><a href="#FNanchor_102_102"><span class="label">[102]</span></a> That is the emphatically personal.</p></div> - -<div class="footnote"> - -<p><a name="Footnote_103_103" id="Footnote_103_103"></a><a href="#FNanchor_103_103"><span class="label">[103]</span></a> <i>Die Schwelgerei.</i></p></div> - -<div class="footnote"> - -<p><a name="Footnote_104_104" id="Footnote_104_104"></a><a href="#FNanchor_104_104"><span class="label">[104]</span></a> In the German the sentence is continuous. Our version -clearly gives another reading to the Hebrew.</p></div> - -<div class="footnote"> - -<p><a name="Footnote_105_105" id="Footnote_105_105"></a><a href="#FNanchor_105_105"><span class="label">[105]</span></a> May be a misprint for "thy presence," <i>deine</i> instead of -<i>die.</i></p></div> - -<div class="footnote"> - -<p><a name="Footnote_106_106" id="Footnote_106_106"></a><a href="#FNanchor_106_106"><span class="label">[106]</span></a> Chapman's translation.</p></div> - -<div class="footnote"> - -<p><a name="Footnote_107_107" id="Footnote_107_107"></a><a href="#FNanchor_107_107"><span class="label">[107]</span></a> Chapman's translation, somewhat an extension of the -Greek it must be admitted.</p></div> - -<div class="footnote"> - -<p><a name="Footnote_108_108" id="Footnote_108_108"></a><a href="#FNanchor_108_108"><span class="label">[108]</span></a> <i>Theoretisch</i>, <i>i.e.</i>, in contemplative repose.</p></div> - -<div class="footnote"> - -<p><a name="Footnote_109_109" id="Footnote_109_109"></a><a href="#FNanchor_109_109"><span class="label">[109]</span></a> Such I take to be the contrast implied in the words <i>den -Adel ihrer Gesinnung</i> and <i>die Macht ihrers Gemüths. Gesinnung</i> is the -sense-perception. <i>Gemüth</i> includes the creative fertility.</p></div> - -<div class="footnote"> - -<p><a name="Footnote_110_110" id="Footnote_110_110"></a><a href="#FNanchor_110_110"><span class="label">[110]</span></a> <i>Hier</i>, <i>i.e.</i>, as contrasted with the first stage of -the discussion.</p></div> - -<div class="footnote"> - -<p><a name="Footnote_111_111" id="Footnote_111_111"></a><a href="#FNanchor_111_111"><span class="label">[111]</span></a> "Henry IV, Part II," act i, scene I.</p></div> - -<div class="footnote"> - -<p><a name="Footnote_112_112" id="Footnote_112_112"></a><a href="#FNanchor_112_112"><span class="label">[112]</span></a> "King Richard II," act iv, sc. 1.</p></div> - -<div class="footnote"> - -<p><a name="Footnote_113_113" id="Footnote_113_113"></a><a href="#FNanchor_113_113"><span class="label">[113]</span></a> "King Henry VIII," act iii, sc. 1.</p></div> - -<div class="footnote"> - -<p><a name="Footnote_114_114" id="Footnote_114_114"></a><a href="#FNanchor_114_114"><span class="label">[114]</span></a> "Julius Caesar," act iv, sc. 3.</p></div> - -<div class="footnote"> - -<p><a name="Footnote_115_115" id="Footnote_115_115"></a><a href="#FNanchor_115_115"><span class="label">[115]</span></a> "Macbeth," act v, sc. 5.</p></div> - -<div class="footnote"> - -<p><a name="Footnote_116_116" id="Footnote_116_116"></a><a href="#FNanchor_116_116"><span class="label">[116]</span></a> "Henry VIII," act iii, sc. 2.</p></div> - -<div class="footnote"> - -<p><a name="Footnote_117_117" id="Footnote_117_117"></a><a href="#FNanchor_117_117"><span class="label">[117]</span></a> "Antony and Cleopatra," act V, sc. 2.</p></div> - -<div class="footnote"> - -<p><a name="Footnote_118_118" id="Footnote_118_118"></a><a href="#FNanchor_118_118"><span class="label">[118]</span></a> The meaning is that the selection is not made merely -with reference to external resemblance, but is also based on relations -only existing in the soul of the artist and therefore to that extent -capricious, however much they appear to be essential.</p></div> - -<div class="footnote"> - -<p><a name="Footnote_119_119" id="Footnote_119_119"></a><a href="#FNanchor_119_119"><span class="label">[119]</span></a> <i>Ein blosses Sollen,</i> lit., a mere "should," a mere -movement in a given direction.</p></div> - -<div class="footnote"> - -<p><a name="Footnote_120_120" id="Footnote_120_120"></a><a href="#FNanchor_120_120"><span class="label">[120]</span></a> This is implied in the contrast of the verbs <i>umstalten</i> -and <i>überkleiden.</i></p> - -<hr class="chap" /> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_169" id="Page_169">[Pg 169]</a></span></p></div> - - - - -<h5>SUBSECTION II</h5> - -<h4>THE CLASSICAL TYPE OF ART</h4> - -<h5>INTRODUCTION</h5> - -<h5>THE CLASSIC TYPE IN GENERAL</h5> - -<p>Thr central point<a name="FNanchor_121_121" id="FNanchor_121_121"></a><a href="#Footnote_121_121" class="fnanchor">[121]</a> of art's evolution is the union, in a -self-integrated totality, carried to the point of its freest -expression, of content and form wholly adequate thereto. This -realization, coinciding as it does with the entire notional concept -of the beautiful, towards which the symbolic form of art strove in -vain, first becomes apparent in <i>classical art.</i> We have already, in -our previous consideration of the Idea of the beautiful and of art, -outlined the general character of classic art. The <i>Ideal</i> supplies a -content and form to classical art, which in this adequate mode in which -it is embodied reveals that which true art is according to its notion.</p> - -<p>To perfect this result, however, all the various phases of art, whose -evolution is the subject-matter of our previous investigations, are -contributive. For classical beauty has for its ideal substance<a name="FNanchor_122_122" id="FNanchor_122_122"></a><a href="#Footnote_122_122" class="fnanchor">[122]</a> -free and <i>independent</i> significance, that is to say, not the -significance of any particular thing, but a significance which -<i>declares itself,</i> and thereby points to its substance. This is the -<i>spiritual</i> substance, which in<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_170" id="Page_170">[Pg 170]</a></span> general terms is that which makes of -itself an object. In this objectification <i>of itself</i> it possesses the -form of externality, which, as identical with its ideal character, is -consequently also on its own part the significance of itself, and is -made conscious of itself by this self-knowledge. It is true that in -our consideration of the symbolical our point of departure was that of -the unity of the significance and its mode of envisagement in the art -product; but this unity was <i>purely immediate</i>, and for this reason -inadequate.</p> - -<p>For the real content either remained essentially the natural according -to its <i>substance</i> and abstract <i>universality</i>, and consequently the -<i>isolated</i> thing in the objective world of Nature<a name="FNanchor_123_123" id="FNanchor_123_123"></a><a href="#Footnote_123_123" class="fnanchor">[123]</a>, although it -was regarded as the real determination of that universality, was not -able to present the same in a mode adequate to it, or that which is -purely ideal, and only to be apprehended by spirit, in so far as it -was received in the artistic content, carried with it in that which -was foreign to its essential nature, namely the immediate individual -and sensuous thing, the mode of its appearance that was in fact -incongruent with it. And generally here significance and form only -stood in the relation of mere affinity and suggestion; and however -much in certain respects they could be brought together homogeneously, -they as clearly fell apart again in other directions. This original -unity was therefore torn asunder; this simple and abstract inwardness -or ideality was imaged for the Hindoo conception of the world on the -one side in the manifold reality of Nature, and on the other in finite -human existence; and the imagination, in the unrest of its impetuous -motion, was carried from the one to the other by turns, without being -either able to deliver the ideal in its essentially pure and absolute -self-subsistency, or to thoroughly infuse it with the phenomenal matter -as it was presented and informed, and so reproduce it throughout that -material in undisturbed union. The disorder and grotesque appearance, -which arose in the commingling of elements opposed to one another, -no doubt again vanished, but only to make way for an enigmatical -condition equally unsatisfying, which, instead of solving the problem, -was only able to prevent the problem's solution. For here, too, still -was lacking the freedom and self-subsistency of content, which<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_171" id="Page_171">[Pg 171]</a></span> only -thereby is rendered explicit in that the Inward is presented to -consciousness as in itself a whole, and by this means as that which -overlaps the externality which in the first instance is other than -itself and foreign to itself. This essential self-subsistency, cognized -as free and absolute significance, is self-consciousness, which has for -its content the Absolute, and for its form the subjectivity of Spirit. -In contradistinction to this self-determining, thinking, willing power -everything else is self-subsistent in merely a relative and momentary -sense. The material phenomena of Nature such as the sun, the heavens, -stars, plants, animals, stones, streams and sea have only an abstract -relation to themselves, and are in the eternal process of Nature bound -up with other facts of natural existence, so that they can only pass -as self-subsistent for the finite perception. The real significance of -the Absolute is not presented in them. Nature is indeed under a mode -expressed<a name="FNanchor_124_124" id="FNanchor_124_124"></a><a href="#Footnote_124_124" class="fnanchor">[124]</a>, but only under the mode of what is outside itself; its -inwardness is not as such for itself, but poured forth into the varied -show of its appearances, and consequently devoid of self subsistency. -Only in Spirit as the concrete, free and, infinite self-relation, -is the true and absolute significance actually disclosed, and -self-subsistent under the mode of its determinate existence.</p> - -<p>On the way to this emancipation of the Idea from the immediately -sensuous medium and to its self-establishment we are confronted by -the <i>Sublime</i> and the consecration of the imagination. The absolute -significance is, that is to say, in the first instance the thinking, -absolute and senseless<a name="FNanchor_125_125" id="FNanchor_125_125"></a><a href="#Footnote_125_125" class="fnanchor">[125]</a> One, which is self-related as the Absolute, -and in this relation affirms that which it creates; Nature and finitude -generally, as the negative, thing, that which is essentially in itself -devoid of stability. It is the explicit and essential Universal, -conceived as the objective power over collective existence, whether -it be that this One be brought now to consciousness and represented -in its expressly negative attitude to the created, thing, or in its -positively pantheistic<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_172" id="Page_172">[Pg 172]</a></span> inherence in the same. The twofold defect of -this point of view, so far as it is connected with art, consists first -in this that this One and Universal which constitutes the fundamental -significance has not yet in itself arrived at the closer determination -and distinction, and by this means just as little at the point of -real individuality and personality in which it could be apprehended -as Spirit, and could be set before the sensuous perception in a form -which would be applicable to its spiritual content, according to its -own notion, and duly conformable therewith. The concrete idea of Spirit -on the contrary requires, that it both defines and distinguishes itself -in itself, and by the very act of making itself an object discovers -through this reduplication an external phenomenon, which although -material and present, nevertheless is throughout permeated by Spirit, -and consequently taken by itself expresses nothing at all, simply -permitting Spirit to declare itself as its inner core, the expression -and reality of which it is. <i>Secondly</i>, from the point of view of the -objective world the defect is bound up with this abstraction of an -Absolute to which the principle of self-determination is lacking that -now also the real phenomenon, being that which is essentially without -substance, is unable to set forth under any true mode the Absolute in -concrete shape. In contrast to those songs of praise and glory, those -celebrations of the abstract and universal majesty of God, we have -now in the passage we are making to a higher form of art to recall -to our minds that phase of negativity, change, pain, and progress -through life and death, which we discovered among other matter in the -conceptions of the East. We have here set before us the principle of -<i>self-distinction</i> in its essential character under a mode which is -unable to unite with its conception the unity and self-subsistency of -that subjective principle. Both aspects, however, both the essential -and self-substantive unity, and the differentiation of that unity by -virtue of a self-defined content, are equally necessary to unfold a -true and free self-subsistency in its concrete and mediate totality.</p> - -<p>In this connection we may incidentally, together with this reference -to the Sublime, mention that further conception which at the same -time entered on its process of explication in the East. It is that -apprehension, in opposition to the<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_173" id="Page_173">[Pg 173]</a></span> substantiality of the one God, -of internal freedom, self-subsistency and innate independence of the -individual, so far as the elaboration of this impulse was permitted -to Eastern nations. The main source of this attitude we must seek for -among the Arabs, who in their deserts, upon the infinite sea of these -expanses, with the clear heavens over their heads, in a nature such as -this have emphasized their own courage and the bravery of their hand, -as also the means of their self-preservation, whether it be camel, -horse, lance, or sword. Here we find the more stubborn independence -of personal character asserting itself in its contrast to the Hindoo -softness and lack of individuality, as also to the more recent -pantheism of Mohammedan poetry, and opposing also to the objective -world its circumscribed, securely defined and immediate reality. With -this incipient stage of the independence of the individual we must also -associate free friendship, hospitality, and august nobility, but at -the same time an insatiable lust of revenge and the inextinguishable -memory of a hate, which is insistent and will have satisfaction with -an unsparing passion and an absolutely remorseless cruelty. None -the less all that happens on this soil is wholly within the circle -of humanity. We have here deeds of revenge, conditions of love, -traits of self-sacrificing nobility from which the fantastic and the -wonderful have vanished; everything is carried forward in the secure -and determinate shape which the causative connection of the facts -necessitate. A similar conception of real objects which are referred -to their determinate basis of actuality<a name="FNanchor_126_126" id="FNanchor_126_126"></a><a href="#Footnote_126_126" class="fnanchor">[126]</a>, and are made visible -in their free power, not merely in that which conserves an exterior -purpose<a name="FNanchor_127_127" id="FNanchor_127_127"></a><a href="#Footnote_127_127" class="fnanchor">[127]</a>, we discovered in an earlier stage of our investigations -among the Hebrews. The more assured independence of character, the -savagery of revenge and hate lie, too, at the root of the original -Jewish nationality. But the difference is at once pronounced, that in -this case even the most powerful images of Nature are depicted less -for their own sake than for that of the glory of God, as related to -which they at once again lose their self-subsistency;<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_174" id="Page_174">[Pg 174]</a></span> and furthermore -even hate and persecution are not merely a personal matter affecting -persons, but are embraced in the service of God as national vengeance -against whole peoples. As, for example, the later Psalms and yet more -the prophets frequently only are able to desire and plead for the -misfortune and overthrow of other nations, and not unfrequently find -the main strength of their utterance in curses and imprecations.</p> - -<p>No doubt the elements of true beauty and art are presented to each of -these points of view above noticed; but they are in the first instance -brought together in haphazard and confused fashion, and are set in a -false relation to each other, instead of being referred to a genuine -principle of identity. For this reason the purely ideal and abstract -unity of the Divine is unable to bring forth any entirely adequate -art-product in the form that is characterized by real individuality; -and at the same time Nature and human individuality either are -manifestly not, whether we consider their inward principle, or their -external mode of appearance, permeated by the Absolute, or at least -not positively pervaded by it. This <i>externality</i> of significance, -which is thus made the essential content, and the determinate mode of -appearance under which it is generally reproduced is finally and in the -<i>third</i> place exemplified in the <i>comparative activity</i> of art<a name="FNanchor_128_128" id="FNanchor_128_128"></a><a href="#Footnote_128_128" class="fnanchor">[128]</a>. -In this type both sides have become wholly independent, and the unity -that binds them together is merely the invisible subjectivity which -compares. For this very reason that which is defective in such an -external presentment returned in ever more emphatic degree and betrayed -itself as that which was for the genuine art representation merely -negative or, rather, entirely subversive. And when this dissolution is -really effected the significance can no longer remain the inherently -<i>abstract</i> ideal, but the inherently determinate and self-defined -ideal principle, which in this its concrete totality possesses quite -as essentially the other aspect thereof, that is, the form of an -inherently exclusive and determinate appearance; and consequently in -its external existence, as that which is its very own, merely expresses -and signifies itself.</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_175" id="Page_175">[Pg 175]</a></span></p> - -<p>1. This essentially free totality which remains constant to itself -throughout each successive self-determination in something other than -itself, this ideal principle, which in its objectivity is self-related -is the essentially true, free, and self-subsistent, which in its -determinate existence unfolds nothing other than itself. In the realm -of art, however, this form is not present in its form of infinitude, -is not, that is, the <i>thinking</i> of itself, as the essential, absolute, -which is made an object for itself in the form of ideal universality, -and makes itself, wholly explicit, but is still in immediate natural -and sensuous existence. In so far, however, as significance is -self-substantive, it must in art borrow its form from its own resources -and inherently possess the principle of its externality. It must -consequently, it is true, repair to Nature, but as predominant over -that which is external, which, in so far as it is itself an aspect of -the totality of this ideal realm, no longer exists as purely natural -objectivity, but being without its own self-subsistence, simply serves -as the expression of Spirit. In this interpenetration consequently the -natural form and externality, which is modified by Spirit contains out -and out on its part, as immediately given, its significance in itself, -and no longer points to this as to something separate and different -from the corporeal appearance. And this is that identification of -the spiritual and natural which is appropriate to the notion of -Spirit, which, that is, does not merely proceed no further than the -neutralization of the two opposed aspects, but raises that which is -spiritual into the higher totality, in which it is able to preserve -itself in its own Other, to bring the natural within its own ideal -range and to express itself in and relatively to the natural. It is on -this type of unity that the notion of classical art is based.</p> - -<p>(<i>a</i>) This identity of significance and bodily form may be approached -yet more closely under the view of it that no separation of these -opposed aspects<a name="FNanchor_129_129" id="FNanchor_129_129"></a><a href="#Footnote_129_129" class="fnanchor">[129]</a> takes place within their consummated union; -and consequently the ideal principle does not, as <i>purely inward -spirituality</i>, return upon itself from out of the corporeal and -concrete reality, under a process which would give us once more the -distinction of<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_176" id="Page_176">[Pg 176]</a></span> these aspects in opposition. And inasmuch as the -objective and external, in which Spirit is made visible as an object -of sense, according to the very notion of it, is at once throughout -<i>defined</i> and <i>separate</i>, mind which is free, and which it is the -function of art to elaborate in the form of reality truly commensurate -with it, can only be that spiritual individuality which is not merely -<i>defined</i> but essentially <i>self-consistent</i> in its natural form. -For this reason it is the <i>human</i> which constitutes the centre and -content of true beauty and art; but as content of art—we have already -developed the subject in discussing the notion of the Ideal—it is -brought under the essential determination of concrete individuality and -the external appearance adequate thereto, which in its objectivization -has been thus purified from the imperfection of the finite condition.</p> - -<p>(<i>b</i>) Under such a consideration of the matter it is at once obvious -that the classical mode of representation, if we take it for what -it <i>essentially</i> is, can no longer be of the <i>symbolic</i> type in the -strict sense of the term, however much now and again we may find along -with it the play of that which belongs to symbolism. Greek mythology, -for example, which, in so far as art asserts its mastery over it, -belongs to the classical Ideal, is, if we grasp it in its fundamental -character, not of a beauty which is symbolical, but unfolded under -the genuine character of the Art-ideal, albeit there may be certain -remnants of symbolism which adhere to it, as we shall shortly see.</p> - -<p>If we now proceed to ask ourselves what, then, is the nature of the -determinate form, which can thus enter into this unity with Spirit -without offering merely the suggestion of its content, we shall find it -determined for us in the conception that in classical art both content -and form must be adequate, must, that is, in the aspect of form meet -the demands of totality and essential self-subsistency. For it is a -prime condition of the free self-subsistence<a name="FNanchor_130_130" id="FNanchor_130_130"></a><a href="#Footnote_130_130" class="fnanchor">[130]</a> of the whole, which -constitutes the fundamental determination of classical art, that either -of these aspects, the ideal form no less than its external embodiment, -should be essentially a totality which goes to make the notion of the -whole. Only by this<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_177" id="Page_177">[Pg 177]</a></span> means is either side <i>essentially</i> identical with -the other, and consequently their difference reduced to the purely -formal differences of one and the same, through which also the totality -appears now as free, the adequacy of both of its aspects being now -fully displayed, inasmuch as it declares itself in either of them and -is one and the same in both.</p> - -<p>The lack of this free reduplication of itself within the same unity -carried with it in the symbolic type precisely this absence of freedom -in the content and with it also in the form. Spirit was here not -clear to itself, and for this reason declared its external reality -not as that which belonged to itself, set forth in its explicit -significance through and in it. Conversely the form had no doubt to -be significant, but its significance only lay partly and on one side -in it. The external existence gave here primarily to what passed for -its ideal aspect, though still under a mode that was external, merely -<i>itself</i> instead of a significance which declared an ideal content; -and in attempting to show that there was something further which it -suggested its power was necessarily put under a constraint. In this -distortion it neither remained true to itself, nor was it the Other, -that is significance, but declared nothing save that which was a -problematical connection and confusion between incompatible things, or -tended to be the purely co-adjutant attire and external adornment of -what was simply the glorification of the one absolute significance of -all things whatever, until it was finally obliged to surrender itself -to the purely subjective caprice of comparison with a significance -which was far removed from it and indifferent to it. If this relation -of unfreedom is to find a release the form must already inherently -possess its significance, or, to speak more definitely, must possess -the significance of mind or Spirit itself. This form is essentially -the <i>human</i> form because the externality of this form is alone capable -of revealing the spiritual in sensuous guise. Human expression in -countenance, eye, pose, and carriage is, it is true, material and -therein not that which the spirit is; but within this corporeal frame -itself the human exterior is not merely alive and a part of Nature as -the animal is, but it is the bodily presence which reflects Spirit -to itself. Through the human eye we look into the soul of a man just -as through the entire presentment of him<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_178" id="Page_178">[Pg 178]</a></span> his spiritual character is -expressed. When consequently the body belongs to Spirit, as <i>its</i> -determinate presence, Spirit is also that ideal principle which is -appropriate to the body, and is no form of ideality which is foreign -to the external form in the sense that materiality still inherently -possesses a significance other than that to which it testifies or -suggests. It is quite true that the human form still carries within -it much of the universal animal type, but the fundamental distinction -between the human and the animal body consists simply in this, that -the human is obviously, by virtue of its entire conformation, declared -as the dwelling, nay, we may add the only possible dwelling-place of -Spirit. And for this reason also it is only in the body that Spirit -is immediately present to others. This is, however, not the place -to discuss the necessity<a name="FNanchor_131_131" id="FNanchor_131_131"></a><a href="#Footnote_131_131" class="fnanchor">[131]</a> of this association and the peculiar -reciprocity of soul and body. We must here assume this necessity. We -have, of course, many indications on the human figure of death and -ugliness, that is, of other influences and defects which are traceable -to their source. When we find this to be the case it is the function -of art to expunge the divergence between the purely natural and the -spiritual, to exalt the external bodily appearance to a form of beauty, -that is, a form throughout dominated and suffused with the animation of -Spirit.</p> - -<p>We have seen, then, that in this type of representation symbolism is -no longer presented by the external relation, and everything that -partook of effort, strain, distortion, and perversion is eliminated. -For when Spirit has grasped itself as Spirit it is at once explicit -and clear; and on the same ground is also its association with the -form adequate to it from the side of externality, something which is -essentially ready to the hand and a free gift, which does not require, -as a means for its declaration, a bond of connection introduced by the -imagination, and contrasting with that which is immediately presented. -Just as little is the classical form of art exhibited as a purely -material and superficial personification. It is Spirit in its entirety, -in so far as it is intended to make it the content of the art-product, -which passes into that bodily shape, and is able to identify itself -completely with it. From this point of view we may considerer<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_179" id="Page_179">[Pg 179]</a></span> -the conception that art has followed the human figure by means of -imitation. According to the common view, however, this acceptance of -the human figure as the model of imitation appears as a matter of -accident, whereas we should rather maintain the art which has arrived -at its maturity is obliged to reveal its substance by a necessary -law in the form of man as he appears to sense perception, because -Spirit alone obtains in it the existence fitting to it in the sensuous -material of Nature.</p> - -<p>All that we have here observed relatively to the human body and -its expression applies also to human emotions, impulses, actions, -experiences, and occupations. The externalization of these is also, in -classical art, not merely characterized as a part of Nature's life, -but as that of Spirit; and this ideal aspect is brought into full and -adequate identity with that which is external appearance.</p> - -<p>(<i>c</i>) Inasmuch, then, as classical art comprehends free spirituality -as determinate individuality, and immediately envisages the same in -its bodily presentment, it frequently falls under the reproach of -anthropomorphism. Even among the Greeks, to take an example, Xenophanes -ridiculed the presentation of Gods by means of the sensuous image in -his famous remark, that if lions had been sculptors they would have -given their gods the external shape of lions. Of a similar tendency -is that piece of French wit: God made men according to His image, -but man has returned Him the compliment by creating God in the image -of man. If we consider the matter relatively to the form of art that -follows, the romantic, we may in this respect observe that the content -of the classical form of beauty is no doubt defective precisely as -the religion of art is so; but so little does the defect consist in -anthropomorphism as such, that we may rather maintain, on the contrary, -that though classical art is certainly sufficiently anthropomorphic for -art, for the higher form of religion it is not enough so. Christianity -has carried anthropomorphism to far greater lengths; for, according -to Christian doctrine, God is not merely individuality in a human -form, but a real and singular individual entirely God, and entirely -a real man who has entered into all conditions of existence, and is -no mere Ideal of beauty and art created by man. If our<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_180" id="Page_180">[Pg 180]</a></span> conception of -the Absolute is limited to an abstract Being essentially without any -characterization then, no doubt, every kind of representation vanishes, -but if God is Spirit he must appear as man, as individual subject, -not as ideal human being, but as actual participator in the entire -externality of temporal conditions<a name="FNanchor_132_132" id="FNanchor_132_132"></a><a href="#Footnote_132_132" class="fnanchor">[132]</a> which pertain to immediate -and natural existence. In other words, from the Christian point of -view, the infinite movement is carried to the extremest verge of -opposition, and only returns to the absolute unity as the resolution of -this separation. The man-becoming of God is incident to this phase or -significant moment of separation; as real and individual subjectivity -it is involved in the difference between unity and substance in its -bare extension, and in this common sphere of temporal and spatial -condition creates the consciousness in and pain of division in order -through the ultimate resolution of such contradiction by the same -means to arrive at eternal reconciliation. And this essential point -of passage in the process, according to the Christian conception, is -inherent in the nature of God Himself. As a matter of fact, God is here -apprehended as absolute and free Spirit, in which Nature and immediate -singularity is indeed proferred us as a phasal moment of a process, -but, at the same time, as one which is necessarily transcended<a name="FNanchor_133_133" id="FNanchor_133_133"></a><a href="#Footnote_133_133" class="fnanchor">[133]</a>. In -classical art, on the contrary, the material medium is neither killed -nor suffers death, but for this reason also we cannot wholly find in it -the resurrection of Spirit. Classical art and its religion of beauty -does not consequently wholly satisfy the depths of Spirit. However -essentially concrete it may be, it still remains abstract for humanity -because, instead of movement and reconciliation obtained by the -contradiction we have adverted to of that infinite subjective process, -it merely possesses as its life that undisturbed harmony of the free -individuality determined in its adequate existence, this<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_181" id="Page_181">[Pg 181]</a></span> repose in its -reality, this happiness, this content and greatness in itself, this -eternal blitheness and bliss which even in unhappiness and pain does -not lose its secure reliance on itself. Classical art has not worked -its way to the full contradiction which is fundamentally involved in -the notion of the Absolute and overcome that contradiction. For this -reason it does not recognize the aspect which is in close relation -to this contradiction, that is the essential obduracy of the subject -as opposed to that which is ethical and of absolute significance, -namely, sin and evil, no less than the waste of individual life in its -own subjective aims, the dissolution and incontinence of that world -which we may summarily describe as that of the entire sphere of its -divisions, which is productive on the side both of sense and spirit of -distortion, ugliness, and the repulsive. Classical art fails to cross -the pure territory of the genuine Ideal.</p> - -<p>2. In so far as the <i>historical</i> realization of classical art is -concerned, it is hardly necessary to observe that we must seek for -that among the Greeks. Classical beauty, with its infinite range of -content, material and form, is the gift bestowed on the Greek people; -and this folk is entitled to our respect on the ground that it has -produced art in its highest form of vitality. The Greeks, if we regard -the form of their realized life immediately presented us, lived in -that happy middle sphere of self-conscious and subjective freedom and -substantive ethical life. They did not persist, on the one hand, in the -unfree Oriental unity, which is necessarily bound up with a religious -and political despotism for the reason that the individuality of the -subject is overwhelmed in a universal substance, or, in some particular -aspect of the same, because it has essentially as personality no -right, and consequently no ground to stand on; neither, on the other, -did they pass beyond to that subjective penetration, in which the -particular subject separates itself from the whole and the universal, -in order to make itself more explicit in its ideality; and only through -a higher return to the ideal totality of a purely spiritual world, -succeeds in its final purification of the substantive and essential. -On the contrary, in the ethical life of Greece, the individual was -self-substantive and essentially free, without disengaging himself -from the general interests of the realized State<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_182" id="Page_182">[Pg 182]</a></span> immediately visible -to him and the positive immanence of spiritual freedom in the temporal -condition. The universal of morality and the abstract freedom of -personality, both in its ideal and external aspect, remains in -accordance with the principle of Greek life in undisturbed harmony, -and during the time in which, even in real existence, this principle -asserted itself in still unimpaired purity, the self-substantiality of -the citizen did not stand forth in relief in contrast to a morality -which was to be distinguished from it: the substance of political life -was so far merged in the individual, as he on his part sought his own -liberty absolutely in the universal ends of the entire civic life. -The feeling for beauty, the significance and spirit of this joyous -harmony interpenetrates all productions, in which the freedom of Greece -is self-conscious, and in which she has made visible to herself her -being. Consequently her view of the world is just the midway ground -on which beauty commences its true life and breaks open its serene -dominion; the intermediate realm, that is, of free vitality, which is -not merely a fact at once immediate and natural, but one which is the -creation of a spiritual point of view revealed by art, the realm, that -is, of a culture of reflection, and at the same time of an absence of -reflection, which neither isolates the individual nor on the other -hand is competent to bring back again its negativity, pain, and -unhappiness to a positive unity and reconciliation—a realm, however, -which, just as in the case of Life itself, is at the same time only -a point of passage, however true it be that it scales at this point -the summit of beauty, and in the form of its plastic individuality is -so spiritually concrete and rich, that all tones have their interplay -within it, and also, too, that which is for its own standpoint what -lies behind it, albeit it is no longer present as an absolute and -unqualified principle, is nevertheless felt as that which accompanies -it—a kind of background to it. In this sense the Greek nation has -also, in the representation of its gods, made its spirit visible to the -perceptions and the imaginative consciousness, and bestowed on them, -by means of art a determinate existence, which is entirely conformable -with their true content. By virtue of this homogeneous form, which -is alike consistent with the fundamental notion of Greek art and -Greek mythology, art became in Greece<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_183" id="Page_183">[Pg 183]</a></span> the highest expression for the -Absolute, and Greek religion is the religion of art itself, whereas -romantic art, which appeared later, although it is undoubtedly art, -suggests a more exalted form of consciousness than art is in a position -to supply.</p> - -<p>3. In establishing the position, as we have just done, on the one -hand, that essentially free individuality is the content of classical -art, and, on the other, that a like freedom is the equally requisite -determinant of the form, we have already assumed that the entire -blending of both together, however much it may be presented in the -immediate form, is nevertheless no original unity such as Nature's, -but is necessarily an <i>artificial</i> association made possible by the -subjective spirit. Classical art, in so far as its content and its -form is spontaneity<a name="FNanchor_134_134" id="FNanchor_134_134"></a><a href="#Footnote_134_134" class="fnanchor">[134]</a>, originates in the freedom of the Spirit -that is clear to itself. And for this reason also we may say that in -the <i>third</i> place the artist occupies a position different from that -of his predecessors. That is to say his production declares itself -as the spontaneous <i>product</i> of a man in the full possession of his -senses<a name="FNanchor_135_135" id="FNanchor_135_135"></a><a href="#Footnote_135_135" class="fnanchor">[135]</a>, who as truly <i>knows</i> what he wills as he is <i>able</i> to -accomplish such a purpose; who is consequently obscure to himself -neither in respect to the significance and substantive content of that -which he has resolved to make visible in the form of art, nor finds -himself hindered by any defects of technique from executing the result -aimed after.</p> - -<p>(<i>a</i>) If we look more closely at this change in the position of the -artist we shall in the first place find this freedom announced to -us relatively to the <i>content</i> in this way, that he does not feel -compelled to seek for it with the restless process of symbolical -fermentation. Symbolic art remains the captive of its travail to -bring to birth and make clear its form to its own vision, and this -embodiment is itself only the original form<a name="FNanchor_136_136" id="FNanchor_136_136"></a><a href="#Footnote_136_136" class="fnanchor">[136]</a>, that is, on the -one side Being in the immediate guise of Nature, and on the other -the ideal<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_184" id="Page_184">[Pg 184]</a></span> abstraction of the universal, unity, conversion, change, -becoming, origination, and passing away. In this original form of -the artistic process, however, art does not come to its rightful -possessions. Consequently, these representations of symbolic art, which -should be expositions of content, remain still themselves riddles and -problems, and merely testify to the struggle after clarity and the -effort of Spirit, which on and on seeks to discover without obtaining -the rest and repose of discovery. In contrast to this troublous -search the content must for the classic artist be presented him as -something <i>already there</i> in the sense that as a thing essentially -positive, as belief, popular opinion, or as an actual event either -of myth or tradition, it is determined for his imagination in all -its essential character. Relatively to this objectively determined -material the artist is placed in the freer relation that he does not -himself undertake the process of production and fermentation, and -pass no further than the impulse after the real significances of -his art, but rather that for him a completely explicit and unfolded -content lies before him which he accepts and freely reproduces from -himself. The Greek artists received their material from the popular -religion in which already that which had been brought over to Greece -from the Orient had begun to receive a form of its own. Pheidias -borrowed his Zeus from Homer, and other tragedians also did not create -the fundamental groundwork of that they represented. In the same way -the artists of Christianity, Dante and Raphael, have only reclothed -what was already to hand in the doctrines of their faith and their -religious conceptions. This is also, it is true, from a certain point -of view in like manner the case in the art of the Sublime, but with -this difference, that here the relation to the content, as the <i>one</i> -substance, does not permit subjectivity to come by its just claims, and -allows to it no self-substantive finality. The comparative form of art, -on the other hand, no doubt starts with the selection of significances -as images which it makes use of, but this initiative of selection -remains at the disposition of <i>subjective</i> caprice, and on its part -dispenses with all substantive individuality, which constitutes the -notion of classical art, and for this reason must rest with the -personality which creates it.</p> - -<p>(<i>b</i>) The more, however, an explicitly unfolded content is<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_185" id="Page_185">[Pg 185]</a></span> present -for the artist in popular beliefs, myth, and other actual facts, the -more his energy is concentrated upon the object of endowing such a -content with the <i>external embodiment</i> of art fitting to it. While -in this respect symbolic art dissipates its resources in a thousand -forms, and with unbridled imaginative power lays about it for material -that it fails either to measure or define in order to adapt forms that -are never really conformable to the significance it is seeking after, -the classical artist in this respect is possessed of an aim that is -at once resolute and definite. That is to say, the free form is with -the content itself defined through that content, and is essentially -pertinent to such content, so that the artist only appears to execute -what is already accordant with the fundamental conception of what is -presented him. While, therefore, the symbolic artist strives in his -imagination, to suit the form to significance or <i>vice versa</i>, the -classic artist <i>adapts</i> significance to plastic shape by means of the -process of freeing the external phenomena which are already presented -from that part of them which is merely an incidental product. In this -activity, however, although all that is purely his caprice is excluded, -his productive power not merely follows or is not merely limited to a -bare type, but is at the same time <i>creative</i> throughout the whole. -Art which, to start with, is forced to seek out and discover its true -form neglects for that reason the very aspect of form; but where, on -the contrary, the building up of form is made the essential interest -and the main task there we find the content also receives its plastic -shape by imperceptible degrees through the process of the reproduction, -precisely as we have hitherto found in a general way that form and -content proceed hand in hand during the process, wherein they are -completed. In this respect the classic artist elaborates the result -also where it is a religious world that is presented him; he throughout -develops in the free and buoyant medium of his art the material and -mythological ideas which he receives.</p> - -<p>(<i>c</i>) The same applies to the technique of art. In the case of the -classic artist the ingredients must be already to hand; the sensuous -material through which the artist labours must already be disengaged -from all brittleness and extreme stubbornness, and yield directly to -the aims of the artist, in<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_186" id="Page_186">[Pg 186]</a></span> order that the content, conformably to -the notion of the classic type, may make its free and unfettered way -through this external medium. To classical art, consequently, belongs -from the first a high level of technical ability, which has subjected -the sensuous material to an apt subservience. Such a technical -perfection, if it is really to carry out all that is required of Spirit -and its conceptions, is presupposed by the complete elaboration of all -that pertains to craftsmanship in art, that is, in especial degree -of that which makes itself visible within the plastic forms of the -religion to which we now refer. The religious view of things, such -as the Egyptian, for example, discovers, that is, definite external -forms, idols, colossal constructions whose type remains fixed, and, -further, in the usual similarity of forms and shapes, supplies a -considerable field for elaboration in the treatment of it by the -steadily progressive executive powers. This adaptability to the talents -of the craftsman must already have been presented in that which is of -an inferior and distorted type before the genius of classical beauty -can associate these powers of mechanical facility with the forms -of technical perfection. Then, at last, when that which is purely -mechanical work is confronted with no further insuperable difficulty, -is art enabled to proceed in the elaboration of a form, the practice in -working out which is at the same time an elaboration which is in the -closest relationship to the progressive advance of both content and -form.</p> - -<p>So far as the <i>division</i> of classical art is concerned it is usual -in the more general sense of the term to call every complete work -of art classic, whatever the particular character it may otherwise -carry, whether symbolic or romantic. We have no doubt thus accepted -it in the particular sense of art perfection, but with this important -qualification, that this perfection must be based on the thorough -interpenetration of ideal and free individuality and external -definition. We consequently differentiate the classic form expressly -from the symbolic and romantic, whose beauty in content and form is -entirely of another kind. And along with the classic, regarded in its -usual and more indefinite significance, we have as little to do here at -this early stage with the particular arts in which the classical ideal -is represented, as, for example, sculpture, the Epic, definite forms<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_187" id="Page_187">[Pg 187]</a></span> -of lyrical poetry and specific types of tragedy and comedy. These -particular types of art, although classic art is imprinted upon them, -will be first discussed in the third portion of the division of our -subject in the explication of the several arts and their grades<a name="FNanchor_137_137" id="FNanchor_137_137"></a><a href="#Footnote_137_137" class="fnanchor">[137]</a>. -What we approach more immediately now is the classic in the sense we -have secured for the term, and as bases of our subdivision we can only -therefore seek out the grades of evolution, which proceed from this -notion of the classical ideal itself. The essential phases of this -development are as follows.</p> - -<p>The <i>first</i> point to which we would direct our attention is this, that -the classical type of art is not to be apprehended as was the case with -the symbolic type as immediately primary, as art's <i>commencement</i>, but, -on the contrary, as its <i>result.</i> We have evolved it, consequently, -in the first instance from the course of the symbolic modes of -representation, which it presupposes. The essential feature on which -this process turned was the concentration of content in the elucidation -of an essentially self-conscious individuality, which can neither -employ for its expression the mere natural form, whether it be that of -the elements or animals, nor the defective and confused personification -of the human figure with it, but receives its expression in the -animation of the human body permeated throughout with the breath of -Spirit. Inasmuch, then, as the essence of freedom consists in this, -to be that which it is through its own resources, that which in the -first place appeared purely as the presupposition and condition of its -origin outside the sphere of classical art must take its place within -the circle peculiar to the same in order to make really visible the -true content and the genuine form by means of the subjection of what -is unconformable to and the negation of the Ideal. This process of -conformation through negation, this process by means of which, whether -we view it relatively to content or form, the genuine type of classical -beauty begets itself from its own substance is consequently our point -of departure, and we shall treat of that in our <i>first</i> chapter.</p> - -<p>In the <i>second</i> chapter, on the other hand, we have reached by means of -this process the true Ideal of the classical type of art. We find here -as the central fact the fair and novel<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_188" id="Page_188">[Pg 188]</a></span> world of the gods of Greece, -which it will be incumbent on us to develop exhaustively from within, -both in its aspects of spiritual individualization, and those which are -related to the bodily form with which such individuality is immediately -associated.</p> - -<p>In the <i>third</i> place, however, the notion of classical art implies -conversely, along with this becoming of the beauty which springs from -itself, also the dissolution of that creation, which will carry us into -a further sphere, namely, that of the romantic type of art. The gods -and human individuals of classic beauty just as they rise so, too, pass -away once more from the art-consciousness, which in part turns round -in opposition to the aspect of Nature that still persists, in which -Greek art, in fact, had elaborated itself in the full perfection of -beauty, in part transcends an undeific<a name="FNanchor_138_138" id="FNanchor_138_138"></a><a href="#Footnote_138_138" class="fnanchor">[138]</a>, defective, and vulgar mode -of reality in order to reveal that which is false and purely negative -therein. In this dissolution, whose artistic activity we shall take as -the material of our third chapter, the specific phases in the process, -which created the truly classical type in that harmony presented by -the perfect fusion of immediate beauty, fall apart. The ideal essence -is made explicit on the one side in its independence of the external -mode of its existence on the other. Subjectivity withdraws into itself, -for the reason that it fails now to find an adequate realization in -the forms hitherto employed, and is constrained to enlarge itself with -the fuller content of a new spiritual world of absolute freedom and -infinity, looking about for novel means of expressing this profounder -grasp of its substance.</p> -<hr class="r5" /> -<div class="footnote"> - -<p><a name="Footnote_121_121" id="Footnote_121_121"></a><a href="#FNanchor_121_121"><span class="label">[121]</span></a> The central point, that is, in the entire evolution of -the types of art, classical art being intermediate between symbolic and -romantic art and in a certain sense marking a point of culmination.</p></div> - -<div class="footnote"> - -<p><a name="Footnote_122_122" id="Footnote_122_122"></a><a href="#FNanchor_122_122"><span class="label">[122]</span></a> <i>Zu ihrem Inneren</i>, <i>i. e.</i>, that which unites it as a -whole rather than is the purely external form. The Inward of man is the -notion of man, not the mere fact that he has a head and arms, etc.</p></div> - -<div class="footnote"> - -<p><a name="Footnote_123_123" id="Footnote_123_123"></a><a href="#FNanchor_123_123"><span class="label">[123]</span></a> The "Nature-existence," as Hegel calls it.</p></div> - -<div class="footnote"> - -<p><a name="Footnote_124_124" id="Footnote_124_124"></a><a href="#FNanchor_124_124"><span class="label">[124]</span></a> <i>Die Natur ist freilich heraus.</i> Nature is there -explicitly before us, but not all that is implied in Nature is made -explicit in the material world.</p></div> - -<div class="footnote"> - -<p><a name="Footnote_125_125" id="Footnote_125_125"></a><a href="#FNanchor_125_125"><span class="label">[125]</span></a> <i>Sinnlichkeitslos</i>, "senseless" as devoid of or -abstracted from all sense.</p></div> - -<div class="footnote"> - -<p><a name="Footnote_126_126" id="Footnote_126_126"></a><a href="#FNanchor_126_126"><span class="label">[126]</span></a> <i>Auf ihr festes Maas zurückgeführt.</i> To their own proper -standard or measure that strictly applies to them.</p></div> - -<div class="footnote"> - -<p><a name="Footnote_127_127" id="Footnote_127_127"></a><a href="#FNanchor_127_127"><span class="label">[127]</span></a> I think this must be the meaning of <i>nützlich</i> here. But -the passage is not an easy one.</p></div> - -<div class="footnote"> - -<p><a name="Footnote_128_128" id="Footnote_128_128"></a><a href="#FNanchor_128_128"><span class="label">[128]</span></a> That is, the comparative type of art discussed at the -conclusion of the preceding section.</p></div> - -<div class="footnote"> - -<p><a name="Footnote_129_129" id="Footnote_129_129"></a><a href="#FNanchor_129_129"><span class="label">[129]</span></a> That is, the Inward or ideal principle and the natural -externality.</p></div> - -<div class="footnote"> - -<p><a name="Footnote_130_130" id="Footnote_130_130"></a><a href="#FNanchor_130_130"><span class="label">[130]</span></a> <i>Selbstständigkeit.</i> Self-consistency or independence -are perhaps better words here.</p></div> - -<div class="footnote"> - -<p><a name="Footnote_131_131" id="Footnote_131_131"></a><a href="#FNanchor_131_131"><span class="label">[131]</span></a> That is, I suppose, the causal necessity as part of -natural evolution.</p></div> - -<div class="footnote"> - -<p><a name="Footnote_132_132" id="Footnote_132_132"></a><a href="#FNanchor_132_132"><span class="label">[132]</span></a> <i>Bis zur zeitlichen gänzlichen Äußerlichkeit.</i></p></div> - -<div class="footnote"> - -<p><a name="Footnote_133_133" id="Footnote_133_133"></a><a href="#FNanchor_133_133"><span class="label">[133]</span></a> These words contain no doubt the epitome of Hegel's -"Philosophy of Religion" and are involved in its difficulties. -The reference to the historical facts of Christianity under ideal -conceptions is obvious. I have translated the words <i>das Moment des -Natürlichen</i> ... <i>zwar vorhanden seyn</i> as a phasal moment of "a -process," but I am well aware that no mere amplification of this sort -can in itself make the words clear.</p></div> - -<div class="footnote"> - -<p><a name="Footnote_134_134" id="Footnote_134_134"></a><a href="#FNanchor_134_134"><span class="label">[134]</span></a> <i>Das Freie.</i></p></div> - -<div class="footnote"> - -<p><a name="Footnote_135_135" id="Footnote_135_135"></a><a href="#FNanchor_135_135"><span class="label">[135]</span></a> <i>Des besonnenen Menschen</i>, <i>i.e.</i>, the man of clear -intelligence, sound sense, as we say.</p></div> - -<div class="footnote"> - -<p><a name="Footnote_136_136" id="Footnote_136_136"></a><a href="#FNanchor_136_136"><span class="label">[136]</span></a> The words <i>dieser Gehalt ist selber nur der Erste</i> would -seem to refer back to the expressions <i>Keine Erste und somit natürliche -Einheit.</i> But the sense is not very clear.</p></div> - -<div class="footnote"> - -<p><a name="Footnote_137_137" id="Footnote_137_137"></a><a href="#FNanchor_137_137"><span class="label">[137]</span></a> <i>Deren Gattungen,</i> their specific types.</p></div> - -<div class="footnote"> - -<p><a name="Footnote_138_138" id="Footnote_138_138"></a><a href="#FNanchor_138_138"><span class="label">[138]</span></a> <i>Entgöttert</i>—a mode from which the Divine is removed.</p> - -<hr class="chap" /> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_189" id="Page_189">[Pg 189]</a></span></p></div> - - - - -<h5>CHAPTER I</h5> - -<h4>THE COMING INTO BEING OF THE CLASSIC IDEAL</h4> - -<p>In the notion of free Spirit is contained immediately that aspect of -the process of intelligence we may describe as self-introspection, -return upon the self, of being explicit as an object existing for the -self and in a determinate place, although this penetration into the -realm of subjectivity, as we have already observed, does not either -necessarily proceed to the length of making the subject essentially -self-substantive in its negative aspect as against all that is -concrete in Spirit and presented us as the stability of Nature, nor -to that absolute reconciliation which constitutes, the freedom of the -infinite subjectivity in truth. With the freedom of Spirit, however, in -whatever form it may appear, is generally associated the elimination -of that which is purely natural, regarded as that which is the Other -in contrast to Spirit. Spirit must in the first instance essentially -withdraw itself from Nature, uplift itself over, her boundaries and -overcome them, ere it can prevail with unfettered movement within those -bounds as within an element that is opposed to it, and can build itself -up in a positive mode of existence truly indicative of its own freedom. -If we further ask for a closer definition of the object through the -transcendence of which Spirit attains to its self-substantive form -in classical art we shall find this object is not Nature merely as -such, but rather a Nature that is already throughout suffused with -the significations of Spirit, in other words the symbolic type of -art, which made use of the immediately natural form as a means of -expressing the Absolute, its artistic consciousness either seeing in -animals and so forth the presence of gods, or striving vainly under -false modes toward the true unity of the spiritual and the natural. It -is through the removal and reformation of this defective association -that the Ideal<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_190" id="Page_190">[Pg 190]</a></span> for the first time presents itself as the Ideal, and -is forced to develop consequently this process of transcendence within -its own sphere as a phase of its own necessary evolution. Such a -consideration at once enables us to dispose of the question whether the -Greeks received this religion from extraneous sources or no. We have -already seen that subordinate conceptions are necessarily presupposed -in the very notion of classical art. These, in so far as they in truth -appear and are presented as factors of human history, are, as opposed -to the higher form, which strives to pass beyond them, the actual -starting-point of the new self-evolving art. And this is so, though -in the particular case of Greek mythology there is not throughout -historical evidence for these preliminary data. The relation, however, -of the Greek spirit to these presupposed data is essentially a relation -of construction and in the first instance of transformation. If this -were not so the conceptions and forms of the same had remained as they -were. It is true that Herodotus says, in a passage already cited, of -Homer and Hesiod, that they had created their gods for the Greeks, -but he also speaks expressly of particular gods, how this or that -one was Egyptian or some other form: the poetic activity does not -therefore exclude the reception of material from other sources, but -merely suggests an essential transformation. For the Greeks possessed -mythological conceptions before the time in which Herodotus places -those original poets.</p> - -<p>If we inquire further into the more obvious aspects of this necessary -transformation of that which is undoubtedly involved with, but at first -still alien from, the Ideal, we find it set before us in naïve form as -content of mythology itself. The main fact of Greek theology is this, -that it creates itself and constitutes itself from that which has gone -before, which takes its place in the origins and process of its own -generic history. Incidental to this origination, in so far as the gods -are taken to be spiritual individualities in determinate bodily shape, -we find, on the one hand, that Spirit, instead of giving visibility -to its essence in that which is purely vital and animal, regards life -rather as an attribute which is insufficient<a name="FNanchor_139_139" id="FNanchor_139_139"></a><a href="#Footnote_139_139" class="fnanchor">[139]</a>, as its unhappiness -and death, and, on<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_191" id="Page_191">[Pg 191]</a></span> the other, that it is in the living thing that it -triumphs over the elements of Nature and its confused reproduction. -Conversely, however, it is equally necessary for the Ideal of the -classic gods, not merely to stand over against Nature and its elemental -powers as individual spirit in its finite and abstract seclusion, but -to possess itself the elements of the universal natural life notionally -as a phasal moment in the vital constitution of Spirit. As the essence -of the gods is essentially <i>universal</i>, and in this very universality -they are defined as individuals, it follows also that the aspect of -their bodily presence must essentially include at the same time the -natural as the essential and wide-reaching power of Nature, and as -vital activity intertwined with spirituality itself.</p> - -<p>In this respect we may differentiate the process of embodiment followed -by the classical art-form under the following points of view.</p> - -<p>The <i>first</i> concerns the degradation of that which is purely animal, -and the removal of the same from the sphere of free and pure Beauty.</p> - -<p>The <i>second</i> more important aspect is related to the elemental itself, -in the first instance conceived as gods put before us as powers of -Nature, through whose conquest alone the genuine race of gods can -attain to undisputed mastery, that is in the war between the ancient -and new gods. But this negative tendency becomes, then, in the <i>third</i> -place, after Spirit has secured its free right, to the same extent -once again an affirmative force, and elemental Nature constitutes an -aspect of godhead permeated with individualized spirituality in order -to re-establish even the animal organism, though here only of an -attributive and external sign. Following the above points of view we -will now, if still at no great length, endeavour to emphasize the more -definite traits, which here come under consideration.</p> - - -<h6>1. THE DEGRADATION OF ANIMALISM<a name="FNanchor_140_140" id="FNanchor_140_140"></a><a href="#Footnote_140_140" class="fnanchor">[140]</a></h6> - -<p>Among the Indians and Egyptians, among Asiatics generally we find -animalism, or at any rate specific kinds<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_192" id="Page_192">[Pg 192]</a></span> of animals regarded as -sacred and worshipped, because in them the Divine itself is taken -to be visible to sense. The animal form is consequently also a main -feature of their artistic representations, albeit they are in addition -merely used as symbolic and in association with human forms, in the -stage previous to that where we find the human, and only the human, -apprehended by consciousness as that which is alone true. It is only -in virtue of the self-consciousness of the spiritual that the respect -for the obscure and gloomy ideality of animal life disappears. This -has already taken place among the ancient Hebrews who regard, as we -have already observed, the whole of Nature neither as symbol nor as the -presence of God, and attach to external objects merely the powers and -vitality which in fact dwell within them. At the same time there still -remains even among them, if in accidental fashion, at least a vestige -of reverence for the living thing as such. We may illustrate this with -the fact that Moses forbids the use of animal blood as food for the -reason that life is centred in the blood. Man, however, is really under -a necessity to eat that which is his natural food. The next step which -we must draw attention to in this passage to classical art consists in -lowering the high worth and position of what is animal, and making this -degradation itself the content of religious conceptions and artistic -productions. And illustrative of this we find abundant examples from -which I shall merely offer the following selections.</p> - -<p>(<i>a</i>) We find that among the Greeks certain animals appear conspicuous -among others, as the snake, for example, is presented us in the -sacrifices of Homer as an exceptionally beloved genius<a name="FNanchor_141_141" id="FNanchor_141_141"></a><a href="#Footnote_141_141" class="fnanchor">[141]</a>, and before -all others it is this species which is offered to one god, while -others are appropriated to some other. We find, further that the hare, -which runs across the way, birds observed in their flight to right -hand or left, and entrails are investigated as fruitful in prophetic -significance. All this, it is true, indicates a real reverence for the -animal type, since the gods communicate through them and speak to men -by means of omens. If we look at<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_193" id="Page_193">[Pg 193]</a></span> the heart of the matter, however, -we shall find these to be merely isolated revelations, suggestive of -superstition no doubt, but merely momentary hints of the Divine. On -the other hand, it is an important fact that animals are sacrificed -and the sacrificial flesh eaten. Among the Indians sacred animals are -on the contrary preserved alive as such, and taken care of, and among -the Egyptians they are even preserved after their death. For the Greek -it is the sacrifice which is sacred. In the sacrifice man demonstrates -that he is willing to give up a consecrated thing to his gods, and to -deprive himself wholly of the use of the same. And in this connection -we may observe a characteristic trait in the Greek rite, among which -people the sacrifice was observed as at the same time a hospitable -feast<a name="FNanchor_142_142" id="FNanchor_142_142"></a><a href="#Footnote_142_142" class="fnanchor">[142]</a>, only a part of the same being dedicate to the gods, that -is, the portion which it was assumed they alone could enjoy, while -the Greek himself retained and feasted upon the flesh. Out of this -circumstance originated a mythical tale in Greece. The ancient Greeks, -it is said, sacrificed with the greatest solemnity to the gods, and -suffered the entirety of the sacrificial animal to be consumed in the -flames. Not even the poorer suppliants dared contest this great waste. -So Prometheus endeavoured to obtain by request from Zeus, that they -were merely under an obligation to sacrifice a portion, and could -devote the remainder to their own uses. He slew two oxen, burnt the -liver of both, converted, however, all the bones into one, the flesh -into the remaining hide of the animals, and presented Zeus the choice. -Zeus, deceived by appearances, selected the bones because they were a -larger portion and left the flesh in this way for human consumption. -For this reason, when the flesh of sacrificial animals was consumed, -the remaining portions, which were devoted to the gods, were burnt up -in the same fire. Zeus, however, took away fire from men because by so -doing he made it impossible for them to celebrate their feast. Little -help the ruse gave him. Prometheus robbed him of the fire and in the -excess of his joy flew back faster than he sped thither; for which -cause, so the tale goes, the bringer of good news invariably brings -"speed" with him. In this way the Greeks have directed attention to -this progress in human culture<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_194" id="Page_194">[Pg 194]</a></span> and preserved and reclothed the same in -myth for the mind.</p> - -<p>(<i>b</i>) We may connect with the above as a similar example of a yet -further degradation of animalism the traditions of famous <i>huntings</i>, -such as we find ascribed to heroes, and handed down as sacred to -grateful memory. In these the slaying of animals which appear as -injurious foes, such as the strangling of the Numean lion by Heracles, -the slaying of the Lernean hydra, the hunting of the Caledonian boar -are set forth as something famous, by means of which the heroes -contended for godlike rank, whereas the Hindoos punished with death -as a crime the slaughter of certain animals. Unquestionably there is -a further interplay of symbolism in deeds of this kind or they lie at -the base of them. In the case of Hercules there is the fact of the -sun and its course, so that such heroic actions supply an essential -aspect of symbolical interpretation. These myths are, however, at the -same time accepted in their express significance as beneficial hunts -and were consciously recognized as such by the Greeks. We must here -again in a similar relation recall certain fables of Aesop, especially -those already referred to of the dung beetle. The dung beetle, that -primitive Egyptian symbol, in whose balls of dung the Egyptians or the -interpreters of their religious conceptions saw the world balls, comes -in Aesop again before Jupiter, and with the important change that the -eagle does not respect his protector the hare. Aristophanes, on the -other hand, has wholly made fun of him.</p> - -<p>(<i>c</i>) <i>Thirdly</i>, the degradation of the animal is directly indicated -in many of the tales of metamorphosis as Ovid has delineated them -for us in detail with grace and talent and fine traits of feeling -and intuition, but also composed in a rambling way without their -great and commanding ideal significance, treating them merely as the -sport of mythos and external fact and failing to recognize a deeper -significance. Such a deeper significance is, however, there, and we -will consequently, now we mention the subject, make further allusion to -it. For the most part the particular narratives are if we look at this -material, quaint and primitive, not so much on account of the depraved -condition of the culture, but rather, as in the Nibelungenlied, -on account of the condition of a still raw nature. As far as the -thirteenth<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_195" id="Page_195">[Pg 195]</a></span> book, according to their content, they are older than -the Homeric tales; add to this they are a medley of cosmogony and -heterogeneous elements of Phoenician, Phrygian, Egyptian symbolism, -treated no doubt in a human way, but in such wise that the uncouth -stock still remains, whereas the metamorphoses which enumerate tales of -a later period subsequent to the Trojan war, although their material is -also borrowed from fabulous times, clash awkwardly with the names of -Ajax and Aeneas.</p> - -<p>(<i>α</i>) Generally speaking, we may regard the metamorphoses as a contrast -to the conception and worship implied in animalism. Looked at from -the ethical side of Spirit they include essentially the negative -attitude toward Nature, making the animal and other inorganic forms a -phase of human degradation. Consequently, if among the Egyptians the -gods of Nature's elements are exalted and made vital in animals, here -conversely, as we have already intimated, the natural form appears -before us as an easier or difficult lapse and a monstrous crime, as the -existence of an ungod-like, unfortunate thing, and as the embodiment of -pain, in which the human is no longer able to remain self-contained. -For this reason they have not the significance of the migration of -souls in the Egyptian sense of that expression; this is a migration -which does not imply guilt, but rather is on the contrary, if we take -the case of the passage of the human soul into the animal, regarded as -an exaltation.</p> - -<p>As a whole, however, this is no severely exclusive circle of myths, -however different the objects of Nature may be, into which that which -is spiritual is banished. A few examples will sufficiently elucidate -the point.</p> - -<p>Among the Egyptians the wolf plays a part of great importance, as, -for example, in the case where Osiris appears as beneficent protector -of his son Horus in the latter's conflict with Typhon, and in a whole -series of Egyptian coins is represented as the assister of Horus. And -speaking generally the association of the wolf and the sun-god is a -primitive one. In the "Metamorphoses" of Ovid, on the other hand, -the conversion of Lycaon into the form of a wolf is presented us as -a punishment for his impiety. After the subjugation of the giants, -we are told<a name="FNanchor_143_143" id="FNanchor_143_143"></a><a href="#Footnote_143_143" class="fnanchor">[143]</a>, and after the annihilation of their<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_196" id="Page_196">[Pg 196]</a></span> bodily shapes -the Earth, warmed by the blood of its sons which had been scattered -in all directions, revitalized the warm blood, and, in order that no -vestige of the former wild stock should remain, brought into being a -race of men. Yet for all that was this after-birth contemptuous of the -gods, eager for savage deeds and murder. Then Jupiter called the gods -into conclave with a view to destroy this mortal race. He informed -them how Lycaon had cunningly formed stratagems against himself, the -wielder of the lightning and their sovereign lord. When, such is -the story, the worthlessness of the times was apparent to him, he -descended from Olympus, and came to Arcadia. "I furnished signs," the -narration continues, "that a god had drawn nigh and the people began to -supplicate." First, to make merry over these pious prayers was Lycaon, -who forthwith cried out: "I will make experiment whether this indeed -be a god or mortality, and the truth shall not remain in doubt." "He -made preparation," continued Jupiter, "to slay me when oppressed with -slumber; he was possessed with the passion for discovering the truth. -And not contented with this, he made an incision with his sword in the -throat of a goat of Molassian pedigree and boiled as to one part the -only partially dead members; and as to the rest baked them on the fire, -and placed both portions before me to eat. Wherefore I, with avenging -flame, have laid his homestead in ashes. Affrighted he fled forth from -thence, and when he reached the silent field he broke forth: in howls -and strove in vain to utter speech. With rage in his jaws and in the -eagerness of his animal lust for murder he turned against the cattle, -and rejoices even now in their blood; his garments have become the -hairy hide, and his arms have turned into thighs. He is a wolf, and -preserves the signs of the primitive shape."</p> - -<p>The tale of Procne, who was changed into a swallow, sets before us the -gravity of the committed abomination with a like emphasis. When, so the -tale runs<a name="FNanchor_144_144" id="FNanchor_144_144"></a><a href="#Footnote_144_144" class="fnanchor">[144]</a>, Procne begs of her husband, Tereus—she happened at the -time to stand in his favour—that he will, forthwith let her go to see -her sister or suffer her sister to visit her, Tereus hastens to launch -his vessel on the sea and quickly reaches the harbour of Piraeus with -his seamanship. He, however, barely catches sight of Philomela<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_197" id="Page_197">[Pg 197]</a></span> before -he is violently enamoured of her. At his departure Pandion, the father, -binds him on oath to protect her with the love of a father, and to send -back as soon as possible the alleviation of his old age. The voyage, -however, is hardly over when the barbarous man deprives her—pale, -trembling, already fearful of the worst, and beseeching with tears to -know where her sister is—of liberty, and as twin-consort forces her -to be his concubine along with her sister. Overcome with anger and -thrusting all sense of shame on one side, Philomela threatens of her -own accord to betray the deed. Tereus on this draws his sword, seizes -and binds her and cuts off her tongue, informs, however, his wife by -way of evasion of the death of her sister. Thereupon the sorrowing -Procne tears off the fine linen from her shoulders and puts on mourning -apparel; she raises an empty tomb and in a mode somewhat out of place, -as it happens, laments the lamentable fate of her sister. How then does -Philomela meet this? A prisoner, robbed of all speech, of her voice, -she bethinks her of craft. With threads of purple she works the news -of the crime upon a white texture, and sends the raiment secretly to -Procne. The wife reads the heartrending news of her sister; she neither -speaks nor weeps; she lives wholly in the image of revenge. It was the -time of the festival of Bacchus. Driven forth by the furies of her -passionate grief she forces her way to her sister; she tears her from -her chamber and carries her off with her away. Then in her own house, -while she still is in doubt what terrible act of vengeance she shall -exact on Tereus, Itys appears before his mother. She stares upon him -with eyes of wildness. How like he is to his father! No further word -she utters, but consummates at once the doleful deed. They slay the -boy and serve him on his father's table, who partakes eagerly of his -own flesh and blood. He then calls for his son, and Procne exclaims -that he carries within him that which he calls for; and, as he still -looks about him and seeks after him and again asks and calls for him, -Philomela sets before his face the bloody head. Then he breaks away -from table with an awful cry of anguish, and weeps and calls himself -his son's sepulchre, and forthwith makes after the daughters of Pandion -with the naked steel. But now supplied with wings they float away from -thence, the one into<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_198" id="Page_198">[Pg 198]</a></span> the forest, the other into the roof; and Tereus -also, despite all the energy of his sorrow and desire of revenge, is -changed into the bird which rears on its crest the comb of feathers, -and carries a beak of immoderate projection. The name of the bird is -the hoopoe.</p> - -<p>On the other hand, we have changes which proceed from a guilt of less -significance. As examples, there is Cygnus who became a swan, and -Daphne, the first love of Apollo<a name="FNanchor_145_145" id="FNanchor_145_145"></a><a href="#Footnote_145_145" class="fnanchor">[145]</a>, who was changed into the laurel, -Clyde into the heliotrope, Narcissus, who despised in his vanity -maidens, and sees himself in the watery mirror, and Biblis<a name="FNanchor_146_146" id="FNanchor_146_146"></a><a href="#Footnote_146_146" class="fnanchor">[146]</a>, who -was enamoured of her brother, and is, when he scorns her, changed into -the spring which even now bears her name and flows beneath the shading -oak.</p> - -<p>However, we must not lose ourselves in further digression through -particular examples, and I will merely, by way of passage, and the -one further reference to the change of the Pierides, who, according -to Ovid<a name="FNanchor_147_147" id="FNanchor_147_147"></a><a href="#Footnote_147_147" class="fnanchor">[147]</a>, were the daughters of Pieros and challenged the Muses -to a match of rivalry. For ourselves the distinction of importance -is the nature of the songs which the combatants sang respectively. -The Pierides celebrate the battles of the gods<a name="FNanchor_148_148" id="FNanchor_148_148"></a><a href="#Footnote_148_148" class="fnanchor">[148]</a> and honour the -giants unduly while they depreciate the deeds of the great gods. -Rising up from the depths of Earth, Typhoeus filled heaven with fear; -in a body the gods take flight from thence until, wearied out, they -rest on Egyptian soil. But here, too, so sang the Pierides, Typhoeus -arrives, and the high gods are fain to hide themselves in illusive -shapes. Jupiter was leader of the army, and for this reason, so ran -their refrain, the Lybian Ammon to this day is figured with crooked -horns; and in like manner the scion of Semele is changed into a ram, -the sister of Phoebus into a cat, Juno into a snow-white cow, Venus is -concealed in a fish, Mercury in the feathers of Ibis.</p> - -<p>Here we find therefore the gods suffer reproach in their change -to animal form. Although their translation is not presented as a -punishment for a wrong or a crime, it is their cowardice which is held -forth to us as the reason of this self-imposed metamorphosis. Calliope, -on the other hand, exalts in song the good deeds and history of Ceres. -Ceres was the first, so ran the strain, to scour through the<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_199" id="Page_199">[Pg 199]</a></span> fields -with the crook-backed ploughshare; first was she to give fruits and -fruitful means of nourishment to the ploughed fields. First was she to -lay down laws for our guidance; we are collectively but a gift of her -wisdom. "Ah," she exclaims, "my task is to celebrate her, and yet how -shall I tune my strain worthy of such a goddess! Assuredly the goddess -is worthy of the singer's best." When she has finished, the Pierides -adjudge themselves victors in the contest: but even as they endeavour -to speak, and with loud cries, so Ovid informs us (v. 670), are -flourishing about with their hands, they perceive their nails passing -away into feathers, their arms become covered with down, while each is -aware that the mouth of the other is closing up into the stiff bill -of a bird: and while they are all for deploring their lot, they are -carried up on the waves of their wings, they float away, the screamers -of the woods, and as waifs of the air. And even unto this day, adds -our poet, they still retain their own glibness of tongue and excited -chatter, and infinite desire to gossip. In this way we find again also -here that metamorphosis is presented us as punishment, and, what is -more, is presented, as is so frequently the case with such stories, as -punishment due to religious impiety.</p> - -<p>(<i>β</i>) If we consider further examples of still well recognized -metamorphoses of men and gods into animals, we shall find that, -although they do not directly imply any transgression as the cause -of such a change, as, for example, in the case where Circe possessed -the power to change men into animals, yet, for all that, the animal -condition is at least indicative of a misfortune and a humiliation, -such as brings no honour even to the person who makes such a change -subservient to private ends. Circe was quite a subordinate, obscure -type of goddess, and her power appears as mere witchery, and Mercury -assists Odysseus, when the latter contrives to free his comrades from -the spell. Of much the same kind are the many shapes which Zeus takes -upon himself, as, for example, when he is changed into a bull in his -quest of Europa, or when he approaches Leda in the form of a swan, or -fructifies the Danae in a shower of gold. In all these cases the object -is one of deception, directed by purposes of an inferior, that is to -say, not<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_200" id="Page_200">[Pg 200]</a></span> spiritual, but purely natural quality, purposes which the -ever constant jealousy of Juno render unavoidable. The conception of a -universal procreative life of Nature, which in many of the more ancient -mythologies constituted the leading motive, is imaginatively reproduced -in separate poetical tales about the easily enamoured disposition of -the father of gods and men, exploits, however, which he does not carry -through in his own or, for the most part, in human shape, but expressly -either in the shape of animals, or some other embodiment of Nature.</p> - -<p>(<i>γ</i>) And, lastly, we may add to our list those hybrid forms, combining -both humanity and animalism, which are also not excluded from Greek -art, though the animality is here accepted as something that degrades, -is unspiritual. Among the Egyptians, for example, the he-goat, Mendes, -was revered<a name="FNanchor_149_149" id="FNanchor_149_149"></a><a href="#Footnote_149_149" class="fnanchor">[149]</a>, and, according to the opinion of Jablouski<a name="FNanchor_150_150" id="FNanchor_150_150"></a><a href="#Footnote_150_150" class="fnanchor">[150]</a>, in -the sense of the procreative power of Nature, generally speaking, as -that of the sun, and to such an outrageous excess that, according to -Pindar, even women sacrificed themselves to these creatures. Among the -Greeks, Pan, on the contrary, personifies the mysterious sense of the -divine presence, and later in the shape of fauns, satyrs, and Pan-like -figures, the goat shape only appeared in a subordinate way, such as -in the feet, and in the most beautiful representations was perhaps -limited to the pointed ears and little horns. The rest of the figure -is shaped in human guise, and the animal suggestion thrust back upon -the barest detail. Yet, for all that, fauns were not recognized among -the Greeks as gods of any important rank or spiritual forces; their -fundamental characteristic remained that of a sensuous, uncontrolled -joviality. It is true that they are also artistically represented with -an expression of profounder significance, as, for instance, that fine -example of one in Munich, which holds the youthful Bacchus in his arms, -and gazes down on him with a smile which is brimming over with love and -tenderness. He is not to be taken as the father of Bacchus, but merely -the foster-parent, and we find given him here the beautiful feeling of -joy in the innocence of the child, such as that which, in the maternal -devotion of Mary for the Christ babe, is exalted in romantic art to so<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_201" id="Page_201">[Pg 201]</a></span> -lofty a level of contemplation. Among the Greeks, however, this most -charming love still belongs to the subordinate sphere of fauns in order -to indicate that its origin is traceable from animal, that is natural, -life, and consequently is entitled to rank with such a sphere<a name="FNanchor_151_151" id="FNanchor_151_151"></a><a href="#Footnote_151_151" class="fnanchor">[151]</a>.</p> - -<p>Mediate shapes of a similar kind are the centaurs, in which we may -also observe that the Nature-aspect of sensuality and desire is also -supremely prominent to the suppression of the spiritual side. Cheiron, -no doubt, is of a more noble type, a clever physician, and the tutor of -Achilles; but this instructive <i>rôle</i>, as the teacher of a child, is -not appropriate to godhead strictly, but is to be related with human -ability and cleverness.</p> - -<p>In this manner the relation of the animal shape receives a modification -in classical art from whatever point of view we regard it. Its -prevailing employment is to indicate that which is evil, bad, inferior, -merely natural and unspiritual, whereas, outside Greece it was the -expression of the positive and absolute.</p> - - -<h6>2. THE CONTEST BETWEEN THE ANCIENT AND MODERN DIVINITIES</h6> - -<p>The second grade of more elevated rank we may contrast with the -degradation of the animal condition consists in this, that the genuine -gods of classical art, inasmuch as they possess for their content a -free self-consciousness, which we may define as the power of spiritual -individuality reposing on its own resources, are also able to be -represented as subjects of knowledge and volition, that is as spiritual -potences. For this reason the <i>humanity</i>, in the bodily form of which -they are presented us, is not, as one may say, a mere form, which is -girt about this content by virtue of the imagination under a mode of -purely external validity, but is rooted in the significance, content, -and ideal substance itself. The divine, however, generally speaking, is -essentially to be apprehended us unity of the natural and spiritual; -both sides are involved in the conception of the Absolute; and it<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_202" id="Page_202">[Pg 202]</a></span> is -merely the different mode, under which this harmony is conceived, which -constitutes from our present point of view the respective grades of -the various forms of art and historic religions. According to our own -Christian way of looking at it, God is the creator and lord of Nature -and the spiritual world, and therewith, no doubt, exempted from the -immediate and determinate existence of Nature, for the reason that, -before all else, he is very God as the taking back into Himself of his -own fulness, that is as absolute and self-dependent Spirit; it is only -the finite and human spirit which stands in opposition to Nature as -a limit and a bound, a limitation which such only thereby overcomes -in his determinate existence, and exalts himself intrinsically to -the grade of infinity in so far as he grasps Nature contemplatively -in thought, and in the actual world<a name="FNanchor_152_152" id="FNanchor_152_152"></a><a href="#Footnote_152_152" class="fnanchor">[152]</a> consummates the harmony -between spiritual idea, reason, the Good and Nature. This infinite -actualization is, however, God, in so far as the lordship over Nature -is strictly due to Him, and He Himself is conceived as explicit in this -infinite activity, and the knowledge and volition of such realization.</p> - -<p>In the religions of strictly symbolic art, on the contrary, as we -have traced already, the union of the Inward and Ideal with Nature -was an immediate association, which consequently made use of Nature -both as regards its substance and form as its fundamental mode of -determination. In this sense the sun, the Nile, the sea, the Earth, -the natural processes of birth, death, procreation, and reproduction, -in short, all the varied changes of the universal life of Nature were -revered as divine existence and life. These Nature-forces, however, -were even in symbolic art personified, and consequently set up in -contrast to the spiritual. If, however, and nothing less than this -is the requirement of classical art, the gods are to be spiritual -individualities in harmony with Nature, mere personification is a -conception insufficient for this result. For personification, in -the case that its content is a purely universal force and activity -of Nature, persists as a mere form, unable to penetrate to the -constituting substance, and can neither give existence to the spiritual -content in the same, nor its individuality. We find<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_203" id="Page_203">[Pg 203]</a></span> therefore -necessarily in classical art a change of front<a name="FNanchor_153_153" id="FNanchor_153_153"></a><a href="#Footnote_153_153" class="fnanchor">[153]</a>, to the effect -that, in conformity with the degradation of the animal aspect we have -just been considering, the universal power of Nature also in one aspect -of it suffers humiliation, and the spiritual is proportionally exalted -in contrast to it. And by this means we find that it is the principle -of <i>subjectivity</i>, rather than mere personification, which becomes -the main mode of definition. From another point of view, however, -the gods of classical art do not cease to be potences of Nature, -because God here has not yet come to be represented as essentially -absolute and free spirituality. In the relation of a merely created -and ministrant creature to a lord and creator separated from it, -Nature stands, however, albeit deified, either as we have it in the -art of the Sublime—conceived as an essentially abstract, that is -purely ideal masterdom of one supreme substance, or—as in the case of -Christianity—exalted as concrete Spirit to absolute freedom within the -pure element of spiritual existence and personal actuality. Neither of -these examples falls in with the point of view of classical art. God -here is not as <i>yet</i> lord of Nature, for the reason that he does not -as yet possess absolute spirituality either if regarded relatively to -what is contained in Him, or to the mode under which He is apprehended. -He is no longer lord of Nature, because the sublime relation of the -deified natural thing and human individuality has ceased, and taken -upon itself the limitations of beauty, in which their just due must -be rendered for art's representation without any tittle of loss to -both aspects, the universal and the individual, the spiritual and the -natural. Consequently in the god of classical art the nature-potency is -preserved, but is conceived as such not in the sense of the universal -and all-embracing Nature, but as the definable, and consequently -limited activity of the sun, sea, and so on, generally speaking, as -a particular natural potency, which is made visible as spiritual -individuality, and possesses this spiritual individuality as its -essential being.</p> - -<p>For the reason, then, as we have already made clear, that the classical -Ideal is not immediately present, but first makes its appearance -through the process in which that<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_204" id="Page_204">[Pg 204]</a></span> which is negative to the formative -content of spirit is resolved, this transformation and building up -into new forms of that which is raw, unbeautiful, wild, grotesque, -purely natural, or fantastic, which originated in earlier religious -conceptions and views of art, will be a leading interest in Greek -mythology, and consequently will necessarily reproduce a readily -defined sphere<a name="FNanchor_154_154" id="FNanchor_154_154"></a><a href="#Footnote_154_154" class="fnanchor">[154]</a> of particular significances.</p> - -<p>In proceeding further to examine this fundamental aspect of our present -subject I must at once give utterance to the preliminary caution that -the historic investigation of the varied and multifold conceptions of -Greek mythology lies outside our present task. All we are concerned to -inquire into here are the essential phasal steps of this process of -reconstruction, in so far as the same notify themselves as phases of -universal import in the new artistic configuration and its content. -As for that infinite mass of particular myths, narrations, histories, -things referable to a local origin and symbolism, which collectively -still assert their predominance in the world of later gods, and -incidentally appear in artistic production, but for all that do not -belong to the vital point of interest to which our own effort is -directed—we must necessarily leave all this broad field of material -on one side, and can merely refer to an example or two by way of -illustration. Speaking generally we may compare this road, on which -we now move forwards, to the course of the history of sculpture. For -inasmuch as sculpture places before the observation of sense the gods -in their real form it constitutes the peculiar <i>centrum</i> of classical -art, albeit also the better to make it wholly understood poetry -expresses itself upon gods and mankind, or passes in review the worlds -of gods and men in their activity and movement in direct contrast to -that objectivity self-contained in repose. Just as, then, in sculpture -the moment of all importance in the beginning is the transformation of -the formless, the stone or block of wood that has fallen from heaven -(διoπετὴς)—as the the great goddess of Pessinus in Asia Minor actually -was, which the Romans directed by means of a solemn embassy to be -transferred to Rome—into the human<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_205" id="Page_205">[Pg 205]</a></span> form and so makes the statue, so -too we have here to make a beginning from the formless, uncouth powers -of Nature, and while doing so merely to indicate the stages, in their -passage through which they are exalted into spiritual individuality and -are finally concentrated in shapes of fixity.</p> - -<p>We may in this connection distinguish three separable aspects as of -most importance.</p> - -<p>The <i>first</i>, which arrests our attention, are the <i>oracles</i> in which -the knowledge and volition of gods, still under a formless mode, gives -witness to their presence through natural existences.</p> - -<p>The <i>second</i> point of view to be noted is concerned with the universal -forms of Nature, no less than the abstractions of Right and so forth, -which lie at the root of the genuine spiritual and individual deities, -which are, so to speak, their birth-cradles and furnish us with the -necessary conditions of their origin and activity: they are the old -gods in contradistinction to the new.</p> - -<p><i>Thirdly</i>, and finally, we are made aware of the essentially necessary -progress to the Ideal in the fact that the primarily superficial -personifications of the activities of Nature and the most abstract -spiritual conditions are contested and thrust from their prominence -as something essentially subordinate and negative and, by virtue of -this debasement the self-sufficient spiritual individuality and its -human form and action, is suffered to attain an unchallenged masterdom. -This revolution, which constitutes the real central position in the -historical origins of the classic gods, is in Greek mythology placed -before our imagination in the conflict—a mode of presentation as naïve -as it is astonishingly direct—between the old and new gods, in the -headlong fall of the Titans, and in the victory which the divine race -of Zeus secures.</p> - -<p>(<i>a</i>) To take, then, first in order the <i>oracles</i>, it will not be -necessary for us now to dilate on them to any considerable extent. The -essential point which concerns us here is merely due to this fact, -that in classical art the phenomena of Nature are no longer revered -as such—in the way that the Parsees, for example, pray to naphthetic -regions or fire, or as among the Egyptians, gods remain inscrutable, -mysterious, and mute riddles—but that the gods, being themselves<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_206" id="Page_206">[Pg 206]</a></span> -subjects of knowledge and volition, do verily give to man by means -of natural phenomena indications of their wisdom. In this sense the -ancient Hellenes made inquiry at the oracle of Dodona<a name="FNanchor_155_155" id="FNanchor_155_155"></a><a href="#Footnote_155_155" class="fnanchor">[155]</a>, whether -they should accept the names of gods, which have come to them from -barbarians, and the oracle replied: "Use them."</p> - -<p>(<i>α</i>) The signs by means of which the gods thus made their revelations -are for the most part of the simplest description. At Dodona such -were the rustle and whisper of the sacred oak, the murmur of the -spring, the tones of the brazen vessel, which the wind made thus to -reverberate. In like manner at Delos it was the laurel which rustled -and at Delphi, too, the sound of the wind on the brazen tripod was full -of significance<a name="FNanchor_156_156" id="FNanchor_156_156"></a><a href="#Footnote_156_156" class="fnanchor">[156]</a>. Over and above, however, such immediately natural -sounds man is also the voice-piece of the oracle in so far as he is -rendered deaf to and whirled away from the alert commonsense of his -ordinary mind to a natural condition of enthusiasm; as, for example, -the Pythia at Delphi was wont, stupefied by exhalations, to deliver -the oracular words, or in the cave of Trophonius the inquirer of the -oracle met with faces, from the interpretation of which an answer was -delivered him.</p> - -<p>(<i>β</i>) There is, however, another aspect which we should set alongside -of the purely external sign. For in the oracles God is, it is true, -accepted as He who <i>knows</i>, and the oracle of most famed repute is -dedicate to Apollo, the god of wisdom. The form, however, in which he -reveals his will, remains the wholly indefinite voice of Nature, either -a natural sound, that is, or the unconnected tones of words. In this -obscurity of form the spiritual content is itself equally obscure and -requires <i>interpretation</i> and explanation.</p> - -<p>(<i>γ</i>) This explanation, albeit it brings under a mode of spiritual life -the deliverance of the god which in the first instance is presented -purely in the form of Nature's own voice, remains despite this fact -obscure and equivocal. For the god is in his knowledge and volition -concrete universality. And of the same type also must the advice or -command unavoidably be which the oracle declares. The universal, -however,<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_207" id="Page_207">[Pg 207]</a></span> is not one-sided and abstract, but as concrete universal -contains the one side no less than the other. Inasmuch, then, as -man stands over against the knowing god as one unknowing he accepts -the oracular word itself in ignorance. In other words, the concrete -universality of the same is not open to his intelligence, and he can -merely select from the equivocal word of the god, assuming that he -decides to act upon it, <i>one</i> aspect thereof, for the reason that -every action under particular circumstances is unavoidably <i>definite</i>, -only, that is to say, giving a decisive impulse in <i>one</i> direction -and shutting off another. His action is barely accomplished, and the -deed—which consequently has become his own and for which he must -now be answerable—really carried through when he finds a collision -confronting him. All in a moment he is aware that the other side, which -lay already folded in the oracular sentence, is turned against himself -and the fatality of his deed, his knowledge and will notwithstanding, -has him in the toils; a fatality which he may not know, but of which -we must suppose the gods are aware. Conversely again the gods are -determinate potencies and their expressed will, when it carries this -character of essential determinacy, as, for example, the bidding of -Apollo, which drives Orestes forward to his revenge, brings about a -collision of forces in the selfsame way. For the reason, then, that in -one aspect of it the form, which the spiritual knowledge of the god -assumes in the oracle, is the wholly undefined external expression -or the abstract ideality of the word, and the form itself through -the equivocal sense it contains includes the possibility of discord, -we find that in classical art it is not sculpture, but poetry, and -pre-eminently dramatic poetry, in which oracles contribute their share -of the content and are of importance. In <i>classical</i> art, however, they -do essentially maintain a place, because in it human individuality has -not forced its way to the full height of spiritual attainment, where -the subject draws the determination of his actions without infringement -from his own resources. What we in our modern sense of the term call -conscience, has not as here secured its rightful place. The Greek acts -often, it is true, at the beck of his passion, bad no less than good; -the genuine pathos, however, which is here held to quicken him, and -does in fact so quicken him, proceeds from the gods,<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_208" id="Page_208">[Pg 208]</a></span> whose content -and might is the universal of such a pathos; and the heroes are either -immediately instinct with the same, or they interrogate oracles for -advice, when the gods do not present themselves openly to their vision, -by way of quickening the deed to be done.</p> - -<p>(<i>b</i>) Moreover, as in the oracle the <i>content</i> is to be found in -the gods that <i>know</i> and <i>willy</i> while the form of the external -phenomenon is the external which is abstract and a part of <i>Nature</i>, -from the other point of view that which is <i>natural</i>, if we look at -it relatively to its universal forces and the activities which belong -to these, becomes the <i>content</i>, from out of which the independent -individuality has first to force its way up, and receives as its -original form merely the formal and superficial personification. The -thrusting back of these purely natural forces, the opposition and -contention through which they are overcome is just the significant -centre, for which we are indebted primarily to classical art, and which -we must consequently submit to a closer examination.</p> - -<p>(<i>α</i>) The first thing we would remark in this connection is -attributable to the circumstance that we are not here concerned—as in -that view of the world which belongs to the Sublime, or in part even -that appropriate to Hindoo doctrines—with God already essentially -devoid of any relation to sense, when regarded as the starting point of -all creation, but rather with that in which Nature's gods, and we may -add in the first instance the more universal forces of Nature such as -Chaos, Tartarus, Erebus, the entire savage and subterranean substance, -and, furthermore, Uranos, Gaia, the Titan Eros, Kronos, and the rest, -supply the beginning<a name="FNanchor_157_157" id="FNanchor_157_157"></a><a href="#Footnote_157_157" class="fnanchor">[157]</a>. It is from out of these, then, that the -better defined powers, such as Helios, Oceanos, and others like them -first have their being; while they, in their turn, become the natural -cradle for the later spiritual and individualized divinities. We find, -therefore, again here another theogony and cosmogony which is the work -of the imagination, whose earliest gods, however, still remain for the -observer under one aspect of an undefined character, or vaguely extend -beyond all reasonable limit; and, if viewed<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_209" id="Page_209">[Pg 209]</a></span> from another standpoint, -still carry with them much that is essentially symbolical.</p> - -<p>(<i>β</i>) The more detailed distinctions among these Titan potencies may be -thus indicated:</p> - -<p>(<i>αα</i>) First, we have those powers of the Earth and the stars, without -spiritual and ethical content, consequently dissolute, a raw, savage -race, gigantic and formless, as though they were scions of Hindoo or -Egyptian imagination. They are to be classed with other individualities -of Nature such as Brontes, Steropes, and again with the hundred-handed -Kottos, Briareus, and Gyges, the giants and the rest standing in the -first instance beneath the lordship of Uranos, then of Kronos, that -chief of the Titans, who obviously is a kind of personified <i>Time</i>, -devouring all his children, just as Time eventually annihilates -everything that it has brought to birth. This myth is not without a -symbolical significance. For the life of Nature is, in fact, subjugate -to Time, and brings only the Past into existence, just as in the same -way the prehistoric times of some people, which is only one nation, -one stock, yet constitutes no genuine State, and pursues no definite -objects essentially made clear to itself, becomes the sport of the -power of a Time, which is destitute of history. We touch solid ground -for the first time when we come to law, morality, and the State, -something permanent which remains though races pass away, as it is said -that the Muses give permanence and a defence to everything, which, as -the life of Nature and present action, had only vanished swept away -with Time.</p> - -<p>(<i>ββ</i>) But, further, it is not only that the forces of Nature belong -to this sphere of the old gods, but also the forces noted as earliest -over the elements. In particular the first active agency upon metal -through the force of what is still raw, and elementary Nature, that -is air, water, fire, is of importance. We may mention in illustration -the Corybantes, the Telchines, demons of both beneficent and evil -influence, the Pataeci, pygmies, dwarfs, cunning in the woodman's -craft, small, with big paunches.<a name="FNanchor_158_158" id="FNanchor_158_158"></a><a href="#Footnote_158_158" class="fnanchor">[158]</a></p> - -<p>More prominent notice should be taken of Prometheus, as illustrating -in the chief place a fundamental point of new departure. Prometheus -is a Titan of exceptional type and<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_210" id="Page_210">[Pg 210]</a></span> deserves exceptional attention. -Together with his brother Epimetheus he appears in the first instance -as favourable to the young gods; then he stands out as the benefactor -of men, who in other respects have no defined relation with the new -gods or the Titans. He brings fire to man, and thereby supplies them -with the means of satisfying their needs and working the technical -arts, which are no longer, however, regarded as natural products, and -consequently it would appear do not stand in any closer association -with Titan workmanship. For this interference Zeus punishes Prometheus -until Hercules finally releases him from suffering. At the first -glance there would appear to be nothing strictly Titanesque in these -main features of the story; nay, it would not be difficult to point -out an inconsequence in the fact that Prometheus, just as Ceres, is -a benefactor of mankind, and is none the less numbered among the old -Titanic potencies. If we look at the matter more closely, however, -this inconsequence will at once disappear. In this connection several -passages from Plato's works will help us sufficiently to clear the -difficulty. There is the myth in which the guest-friend recites to -the younger Socrates that in the time of Kronos men originated from -the Earth, while the god, on his part, devoted his attention to the -whole<a name="FNanchor_159_159" id="FNanchor_159_159"></a><a href="#Footnote_159_159" class="fnanchor">[159]</a>. After this step a movement of opposite tendency sprang up, -and the Earth was left to itself<a name="FNanchor_160_160" id="FNanchor_160_160"></a><a href="#Footnote_160_160" class="fnanchor">[160]</a>, so that now the beasts became -savage, and mankind, whose means of nourishment and all their other -needs had hitherto passed immediately into their hands, were left alone -without advice or assistance. Well, according to this myth, it was in -such a condition<a name="FNanchor_161_161" id="FNanchor_161_161"></a><a href="#Footnote_161_161" class="fnanchor">[161]</a> that fire was brought to mankind by Prometheus, -all other accessories of craftsmanship being communicated by Hephaestos -and his companion in craftsmanship, Athene.</p> - -<p>Here we have notified expressly a distinction between fire and the -thing which artistic ability produces by working on the raw material; -and only the gift of fire is ascribed to Prometheus. Plato narrates -the myth of Prometheus at greater length in the "Protagoras." There we -read<a name="FNanchor_162_162" id="FNanchor_162_162"></a><a href="#Footnote_162_162" class="fnanchor">[162]</a>: "There was<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_211" id="Page_211">[Pg 211]</a></span> once a time when gods indeed existed, but mortal -beings had not appeared. When the foreordained time of their birth -also had come, the gods created them in the inward parts of the Earth, -composing their substance of Earth and fire and that which is the union -of both these elements. When the gods were desirous of bringing them -into the light, they handed them over to Prometheus and Epimetheus -to apportion and arrange the energies of each singly as was right. -Epimetheus, however, requested of Prometheus that the apportionment -might be left to him. After I have done this, quoth he, you may mark -and express an opinion. Epimetheus, however, by a blunder apportioned -everything worth having to the animal world, so that there was nothing -left over for mankind; and when Prometheus made his inspection he found -that though all other living things were wisely provided with all their -needs mankind remained naked, unprotected, without covering or weapons. -But already the appointed day had appeared in which it was necessary -that man should pass from the bowels of the Earth into the light. In -the embarrassment in which he was placed to procure some assistance -for mankind Prometheus stole the wisdom that is shared by Hephaestos -and Athene by taking fire—for without fire it would be impossible to -possess it or make it of use—and made a present of this to men. Man -now, it is true, possessed the wisdom necessary for the support of his -life, but he was still <i>without political wisdom</i>, for this was still -lodged with Zeus. Entry, however, to the stronghold of Zeus was no -longer permitted Prometheus, and apart from this the awful watchers -of Zeus barred the way. He passed, however, secretly into the chamber -which Hephaestos and Athene shared in the practice of their art, and -having secured the forging-art of Hephaestos he pilfered that other art -(the art of weaving) which was possessed by Athene and presented this -to mankind. Out of these possessions the means of satisfying the needs -of Life is provided for man (ἐυπoρία τoῦ βίoυ)." Prometheus receives, -however, as already narrated, punishment for the thefts he commits -owing to the blunders of Epimetheus.</p> - -<p>Plato further tells us in a passage which immediately follows the -above that mankind was still destitute of the art of war for their -protection against the animal world, which was<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_212" id="Page_212">[Pg 212]</a></span> merely a part of the -art of politics, and consequently were collected into cities, and would -have so outraged each other and finally broken up such asylums for the -reason that they were without all political organization, that Zeus -found it necessary to send down to them under the escort of Hermes -Shame and Right.</p> - -<p>In these passages the distinction between the immediate objects of -life, which are related to physical comfort, that is, the provision -for the satisfaction of the most primary necessaries and political -organization, such as sets before itself as its object what is -spiritual, custom, law, right of property, freedom, and communal -existence is expressly emphasized. This principle of ethical life and -right<a name="FNanchor_163_163" id="FNanchor_163_163"></a><a href="#Footnote_163_163" class="fnanchor">[163]</a>, Prometheus did not give to men, he merely taught them the -cunning by means of which they might overcome natural objects and make -them serviceable to their needs. Fire and the craftsmanship which makes -use of fire have nothing ethical about them in themselves; and it is -just the same with the art of weaving; in the first instance they are -devoted to the exclusive service of private individuals, without coming -into any relation with that which is shared in human existence or with -Life in its public character. For the reason, then, that Prometheus was -unable to furnish mankind with anything more spiritual or ethical, he -also does not belong to the race of new gods, but to the Titans<a name="FNanchor_164_164" id="FNanchor_164_164"></a><a href="#Footnote_164_164" class="fnanchor">[164]</a>. -Hephaestos, it is true, also possessed fire and the particular crafts -to which it is essential as an instrument for his field of activity, -and is none the less accredited as a new god: but Zeus cast him from -Olympus, and he continued to limp ever after. Just as little is it, -therefore, an inconsequence when we find Ceres placed among the younger -gods, who proved herself a benefactor of mankind just as Prometheus -did. For that which Ceres taught was agriculture, with which at the -same time<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_213" id="Page_213">[Pg 213]</a></span> property, and yet more, marriage, social custom, and law -stand in close association.</p> - -<p>(<i>γγ</i>) A third class of the ancient gods contains, it is true, neither -personified potencies of Nature, as such, nor the might which next -follows as lord over the particular elements of Nature in the service -of the more subordinate human necessities, but is already contestant -with that which is essentially in itself ideal, universal, and -spiritual. What, however, is none the less lacking in the powers we -have here to reckon with is spiritual individuality and its appropriate -form and manifestation, so that they also more or less relatively to -their operations keep a position which is more nearly akin to the -necessity and essential being of Nature. In illustration of this type -we may recall the conception of Nemesis, Dike, the Erinnyes, Eumenides, -and Moirai. No doubt we find associated with these figures the -determinate notions of right and justice; but this inevitable right, -instead of being conceived and clothed in the essentially spiritual and -substantive medium of social morality<a name="FNanchor_165_165" id="FNanchor_165_165"></a><a href="#Footnote_165_165" class="fnanchor">[165]</a>, remains either persistent -in the universal abstract notion, or is related to the obscure right of -that which is natural within the circle of spiritual connections, the -love of kindred, for example, and its paramount claim, which does not -appertain to Spirit in the open freedom of itself self-recognized; and -consequently also does not appear as lawful right, but in opposition to -this as the irreconcilable right of revenge.</p> - -<p>To bring the view of the above nearer I will merely draw attention to -one or two ideas bound up with it. Nemesis, for example, is the might -to humiliate the exalted, and to cast down the man all too fortunate -from his lofty seat, and consequently to restore equilibrium. The -claim or right of equilibrium is the purely abstract and external -right, which, it is true, certifies itself as operative in the range of -spiritual circumstances, and conditions, without, however, making the -ethical organization of the same the content of justice. Another aspect -of importance attaches to this circumstance, that the right of the -family-condition is apportioned by the ancient gods, in so far as these -repose on a condition of Nature, and thereby are in antagonism with the -public right and law of the community. We may adduce the Eumenides<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_214" id="Page_214">[Pg 214]</a></span> -of Aeschylus as the clearest illustration of this point. The direful -maidens pursue Orestes on account of the murder of his mother, a murder -which Apollo, the younger god, had directed, in order that Agamemnon, -the slaughtered spouse and king, should not remain unavenged. The -entire drama consequently is concentrated in a conflict between these -divine Powers, which confront each other in person. On the one side -we have the goddesses of revenge, the Eumenides; but they are called -here the beneficent, and our ordinary conception of the Furies, into -which we convert them, is set before us as rude and uncouth. For they -possess an essential right thus to persecute, and are therefore not -merely hateful, wild, and ferocious in the torments which they impose. -The right, however, which they enforce as against Orestes is only the -family-right in so far as this is rooted in the blood relation. The -profoundest association of son and mother is the substantive fact -which they represent. Apollo opposes to this natural ethical relation, -rooted as it is already both on the physical side and in feeling, the -right of the spouse and the chieftain who has been violated in respect -to the highest right he can claim. This distinction is in the first -instance brought to our notice in an external way since both parties -are champions for morality within one and the same sphere, namely -the family. The sterling<a name="FNanchor_166_166" id="FNanchor_166_166"></a><a href="#Footnote_166_166" class="fnanchor">[166]</a> imagination of Aeschylus has, however, -here—and we cannot sufficiently value it on this score—discovered for -us a contradiction, which is not by any means a superficial one, but -of fundamental significance. That is to say, the relation of children -to parents reposes on the unity of the natural nexus; the association -of man and wife on the contrary must be accepted as marriage, which -does not merely proceed from purely natural love, that is from -the blood or natural affinity, but originates out of a conscious -inclination, and for this reason belongs to the free ethical sphere of -the self-conscious will. However much, therefore, marriage is bound -up with love and feeling it is none the less to be distinguished from -the purely natural emotion of love, because it also freely recognizes -definite obligations quite independent of the same, which persist when -that feeling of love may have ceased. The notion, in short, and the -knowledge<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_215" id="Page_215">[Pg 215]</a></span> of the substantiality of marital life is something later -and more profound than the purely natural connection between mother -and son, and constitutes the beginning of the State as the realization -of the free and rational will. In like manner we shall find resident -in the relation of prince to citizen the association of a similar -political right, law, and the self-conscious freedom and spirituality -of similar social aims. This is the reason why the Eumenides, the -ancient goddesses, pursue Orestes with punishment, whereas Apollo—the -clear, knowing and self-consciously knowing ethical sense—defends the -right of the spouse and the chief, justly opposing the Eumenides: "If -the crime of Clytemnestra were not scented out I should be in verity -without honour and despised as nought by the consummator Here and the -Councils of Zeus<a name="FNanchor_167_167" id="FNanchor_167_167"></a><a href="#Footnote_167_167" class="fnanchor">[167]</a>."</p> - -<p>Of still greater interest, albeit wholly involved in human feeling -and action, is the contradiction which we have set before us in -the "Antigone," one of the most sublime, and in every respect most -consummate work of art human effort ever produced. Not a detail in -this tragedy but is of consequence. The public law of the State and -the instinctive family-love and duty towards a brother are here set -in conflict. Antigone, the woman, is pathetically possessed by the -interest of family; Kreon, the man, by the welfare of the community. -Polynices, in war with his own father-city, had fallen before the -gates of Thebes, and Kreon, the lord thereof, had by means of a public -proclamation threatened everyone with death who should give this enemy -of the city the right of burial. Antigone, however, refused to accept -this command, which merely concerned the public weal, and, constrained -by her pious devotion for her brother, carried out as sister the sacred -duty of interment. In doing this she relied on the law of the gods. -The gods, however, whom she thus revered, are the <i>Dei inferi</i> of -Hades<a name="FNanchor_168_168" id="FNanchor_168_168"></a><a href="#Footnote_168_168" class="fnanchor">[168]</a>, the instinctive Powers of feeling, Love and kinship, not -the daylight gods of free and self-conscious, social, and political -life.</p> - -<p>(<i>γ</i>) The <i>third</i> point, which we would advert to in connection with -the theogony of the outlook of artists in the classic<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_216" id="Page_216">[Pg 216]</a></span> period, has -reference to the difference between individuals of the older gods -relatively to their powers and the duration of their authority.</p> - -<p>(<i>αα</i>) In the first place, the origin of these gods is a succession. -From Chaos, according to Hesiod, proceeds Gaia, Uranos, and others, -after that Kronos and his race, finally Zeus and his subjects. This -succession appears in one aspect of it as a rise from the more abstract -and formless to the more concrete and already fairly defined powers -of Nature; in another as the beginnings of the superiority of the -spiritual over the natural. Thus in his "Eumenides" Aeschylus makes the -Pythia in the temple of Delphi begin with the words: "First of all I -revere in my prayer her who first gave us oracles, Gaia, and after her -Themis, who as second after her mother had her prophetic seat in this -place." Pausanias, on the other hand, who also names the Earth first as -giver of oracles, says that Daphne was ordained by her afterwards in -the prophetic office. In another series again Pindar places Night in -the first place, after her he makes Themis follow, then comes Phoebe, -and finally he closes the succession with Phoebus. It would be of -interest to analyse more closely these particular differences; such an -inquiry, however, lies outside our present purpose.</p> - -<p>(<i>ββ</i>) This succession further, in addition to its aspect of being -an extension into essentially profounder conceptions of godhead, -possessing, that is, a fuller content, also appears as the degradation -of the earlier and more abstract type within the range of the older -race of gods itself. The primary and most ancient powers are robbed of -their masterdom, just as we find Kronos dethroned Uranos, and the later -representatives are set up in their place.</p> - -<p>(<i>γγ</i>) In this way the negative relation of the reformation<a name="FNanchor_169_169" id="FNanchor_169_169"></a><a href="#Footnote_169_169" class="fnanchor">[169]</a>, -which we settled at once to be the essence of this first stage of the -classic type of art, becomes the proper centre of the same. And it is -so for the reason that personification is here the universal form, in -which the gods are presented to the imagination, and the progressive -movement comes into opposition with human and spiritual individuality. -And<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_217" id="Page_217">[Pg 217]</a></span> although this appears in the first instance still in a form -indeterminate and formless, we necessarily find that the imagination -presents this negative attitude of the younger gods against the more -ancient under the image of conflict and war. The essential advance is, -however, from Nature to Spirit, implying by the latter the true content -and the real form appropriate to classical art. This progress and the -conflicts by means of which we perceive that it is carried forward, -belong no longer exclusively to the sphere of the old gods, but centre -in the war through which the new gods lay the foundation of their -enduring mastery over the ancient.</p> - -<p>(<i>c</i>) The opposition between Nature and Spirit is in the nature of the -case inevitable. For the notion of Spirit, as in very truth totality, -is, as we have already seen, <i>essentially</i> simply this, to split itself -in twain, that is into its intrinsic constituents as objectivity and as -subject, in order that by means of this opposition it may emerge from -Nature and confront the same forthwith free and jubilant as vanquisher -and superior might. This fundamental phase, rooted in the very essence -of Spirit, is consequently a material aspect in the conception which -it supplies to itself of that nature. Regarded historically, that is -on the plane of ordinary reality, this passage asserts itself as the -reconstruction through progressive steps of the natural man into the -condition where right, property, laws, constitution and political life -are paramount. Regarded under a mode which relates this process to gods -and <i>sub specie eternitatis</i> it becomes the conception of the victory -over the natural Powers by means of the spiritual and individual -Divinities.</p> - -<p>(<i>α</i>) This contest exposes an absolute catastrophe, and is the -essential deed of the gods, by virtue of which the fundamental -distinction between the old and new gods is first made visible. -Consequently we ought not to point to the war, which exposes this -distinction as a mythical story in the same way we should point to any -other myth; rather we should regard it as the mythos, which in fact -punctuates a great moment of transition, and expresses the creation of -the later theogony.</p> - -<p>(<i>β</i>) The result of this violent strife among the gods is the ruin of -the Titans, the unique victory of the new gods, who<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_218" id="Page_218">[Pg 218]</a></span> forthwith receive -in their assured dominion a plenitude of gifts in every direction from -the imagination. The Titans, on the other hand, are banished, and -compelled to huddle in the hollows of the Earth, or, like Oceanos, -dally on the dark skirts of the clear, joyful world, or still endure -many grievous punishments. Prometheus, for example, is fettered on -the Scythian mountains, where an eagle insatiable devours the liver -that ever renews itself. In like manner an infinite and inexhaustible -thirst torments Tantalus in the lower world, and Sisyphus is for ever -constrained to roll up hill in vain the rock that for ever rolls back -again. These punishments are, in truth, the false type of infinity, -the yearning of the indefinite aspiration or the unsatisfied craving -of natural desires, which in their eternal repetition fail to discover -rest or final satisfaction. For the truly godlike intuition of the -Greeks regarded the mere extension into space and the region of the -indefinite, not, as some modern votaries of such longings do, as the -highest attainment of mankind, but as a damnation which it relegates to -Tartarus.</p> - -<p>(<i>γ</i>) If we ask ourselves in a general way, what from this point must -for classical art fall into the background, failing, that is, to have -any right to figure as its final form and adequate content, we shall -find at the earliest point of departure the elements of Nature. With -them disappear from the world of the new gods all that is gloomy<a name="FNanchor_170_170" id="FNanchor_170_170"></a><a href="#Footnote_170_170" class="fnanchor">[170]</a>, -fantastical, void of clarity, every wild confusion between Nature -and Spirit, between significances essentially substantive and the -accidental incidents of externality. In a world such as this the -creations of an unrestricted imagination, which has not yet for its -principle the measure of spiritual proportion, have no place, and -are compelled and justly so to vanish before the clear light of day. -We may furbish up the monstrous Cabeiri<a name="FNanchor_171_171" id="FNanchor_171_171"></a><a href="#Footnote_171_171" class="fnanchor">[171]</a>, the Corybantes, these -representatives of procreative force as much as we choose, yet for -all that such presentations in every trait of them—to say nothing -of the ancient Baubo, whom Goethe sets careering over the Blocksberg -on<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_219" id="Page_219">[Pg 219]</a></span> an old sow—belong to a greater or less degree to the twilight of -consciousness. Only that which is spiritual imperatively demands the -light; and that which does not reveal itself and in itself expound its -own interpretation is the unspiritual, which fades again once more into -Night and obscurity. That which is of Spirit on the contrary reveals -itself, and purifies itself, by itself defining its external form, from -the caprice of the imagination, the flood of obstructing shapes, and -the otherwise perturbed accessories of symbolical sense.</p> - -<p>For the same reasons we now find that human activity, in so far as it -is limited merely to Nature's wants and their satisfaction, falls into -the background. That old right, Themis, Dike and the rest, as one not -determinate through laws which originate in self-conscious Spirit, -loses its unimpaired validity, and in the same way, if conversely, that -which is purely local, albeit there is still room left for its play, -passes by incorporation into the universal figures of the gods; in -which we may still trace the lingering vestiges that remain of it. For -as in the Trojan war the Greeks fought and conquered as <i>one</i> people, -so, too, the Homeric gods, who already have their conflict with the -Titans behind them in the past, are one essentially secure and defined -god-world, a world which is yet further with ever-increasing fulness -made definite and unassailable by later poetry and the plastic arts. -This invincible consistency<a name="FNanchor_172_172" id="FNanchor_172_172"></a><a href="#Footnote_172_172" class="fnanchor">[172]</a> is in its relation to the content of -the Greek world of gods Spirit and only Spirit; but not Spirit in its -abstract ideality, but as identified with its external and adequate -existence, just as with Plato soul and body, as in union brought into -one nature and in this consolidation from one piece, is at once the -Divine and Eternal.</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_220" id="Page_220">[Pg 220]</a></span></p> - - -<h6>3. THE POSITIVE CONSERVATION OF THE CONDITIONS SET UP THROUGH NEGATION</h6> - -<p>Despite, then, the victory of the new gods that which came before them -still remains in the classical type of art partly preserved and revered -in the original form in which we have already recognized it, partly -under a transmuted mode. It is only the limited Jewish national god -which is unable to tolerate other gods in its company for the reason -that it purports as <i>the</i> one god to include everything, although -in regard to the definition of its form it fails to pass beyond its -exclusiveness wherein the god is merely the God of His own people. Such -a god manifests his universality in fact only through his creation -of Nature and as Lord of the heavens and the earth. For the rest he -remains the god of Abraham, who led his people Israel out of Egypt, -gave them laws on Sinai, and divided the land of Canaan among the Jews. -And through this narrow identification of him with the Jewish nation -he is in a quite peculiar way the god of this folk; and consequently, -speaking generally, neither stands in positive consonance with -Nature, nor appears truly as absolute Spirit referable back from his -determinate character and objectivity to his universality. Consequently -this austere, national god is so jealous, and ordains in his jealousy -that men shall see elsewhere merely false idols. The Greeks, on the -contrary, discovered their gods among other nations and accepted -what was foreign among themselves. For the god of classical art has -spiritual and bodily individuality and is for this reason not the one -and only one, but merely a <i>particular</i> godhead, which, as everything -else that shares particularity, has a circle of particularity which -surrounds it or in opposition to it as its Other, from which it is the -result, and which is qualified to preserve its validity and worth. -The process here is analogous to that of the particular divisions of -Nature. Although the world of vegetation is the truth of the geological -image of Nature, the animal again the higher truth of the vegetable, -yet the mountains and the flooded land persist as the solid basis of -trees, shrubs, and flowers, which in their turn do not lose their -existence alongside the world of animals.</p> - -<p>(<i>a</i>) The earliest form under which among the Greeks we<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_221" id="Page_221">[Pg 221]</a></span> come upon -this ancient residue, are the <i>Mysteries.</i> The Greek Mysteries were -nothing secret in the sense that the Greek nation was not in a general -way aware of their content. On the contrary, the majority of the -Athenians and a large number of foreigners were among the initiated -in the Eleusinian mysteries; but they were not permitted to speak of -that in which they had been instructed through initiation. In our -own times people have been at great pains to discover more nearly -the type of conceptions which prevailed in these mysteries, and to -investigate the kind of religious services which were used in their -celebration. It appears, however, that on the whole there was no -extensive wisdom or profound knowledge concealed in the Mysteries. They -merely preserved the old traditions, the basis, that is, of what was -latterly reconstructed by the genuine type of art, and consequently, -so far from containing the true, higher, and more valuable content, -rather unfolded that which was of less significance and of inferior -rank. Whatever it was, this holiness was not clearly expressed in the -mysteries, but merely handed down in its symbolical features. And in -fact this character of secrecy and reticence is bound up with the old -telluric, sidereal, and Titanic deposit; Spirit alone is the revealed -and the self-revealer. Consonant, too, with this it is the symbolical -mode of expression which constitutes the other aspect of secrecy -in the mysteries, because in symbolism the interpretation remains -obscure, and contains a something other than the external image, which -it purports to display, in fact offers to the view. In this sense, -for example, the mysteries of Demeter and Bacchus were, it is true, -spiritually interpreted, and contained a profounder sense. The form of -the same remained quite externally isolate from this content, so that -it was impossible clearly to disengage it from it. Consequently the -Mysteries had very little influence over art; for though we are told -of Aeschylus, that he willfully betrayed something which attached to -the Demeter mysteries, this merely amounts to an assertion on his part -that Artemis had been the daughter of Ceres, which is not very profound -wisdom after all.</p> - -<p>(<i>b</i>) But, <i>secondly</i>, we find that the reverence and preservation -of the old <i>régime</i> is yet more clearly indicated in actual artistic -representation. We have already referred to<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_222" id="Page_222">[Pg 222]</a></span> Prometheus as the -chastised Titan who appears in the stage immediately prior to that -of genuine art. We meet with him however again as delivered. For as -the Earth and as the Sun, so also the fire, which Prometheus brought -down to men, that is, the eating of flesh, which he taught them, is -an essential feature of human life, a necessary condition for the -satisfaction of their needs; and consequently Prometheus is honoured -with an enduring recognition<a name="FNanchor_173_173" id="FNanchor_173_173"></a><a href="#Footnote_173_173" class="fnanchor">[173]</a>. In the Oedipus Colonos of Sophocles -we have the words:</p> - -<p> -<span style="margin-left: 2.5em;">χῶρoς μὲν ἱερὸς πᾶς ὅδ ἔστ· ἔχει δέ νιν</span><br /> -<span style="margin-left: 2.5em;">σεμνὸς Πoσειδῶν· ἐν δ' ὁ πoρφόρoς θeὸς</span><br /> -<span style="margin-left: 2.5em;">Tιτὰν Πρoμηθὲυς<a name="FNanchor_174_174" id="FNanchor_174_174"></a><a href="#Footnote_174_174" class="fnanchor">[174]</a></span><br /> -</p> - -<p>and the scholiast adds that Prometheus was revered in the Academy along -with Athene, as Hephaestos was, and a temple was shown in a grove of -the goddess, and an ancient pedestal near the entrance, where there -was not only an image of Hephaestos, but also one of Prometheus. -Prometheus, however, according to the statement of Lysimachides, was -represented as primary and more ancient, and he held in his hand a -sceptre; Hephaestos as the younger and in the second place, and the -altar on the pedestal was shared by both. Prometheus, then, according -to the tale, was not obliged to endure his chastisement for ever, -but was released from his fetters by Hercules. In this story of his -liberation we come across certain remarkable traits. In other words, -Prometheus is delivered from his agony because he informs Zeus of -the danger which threatens his empire at the hands of the thirteenth -descendant. This descendant is Hercules, to whom, we may add in -illustration, Poseidon exclaims in the "Birds" of Aristophanes<a name="FNanchor_175_175" id="FNanchor_175_175"></a><a href="#Footnote_175_175" class="fnanchor">[175]</a>, -"he will do himself an injury, if he strike a bargain with reference -to the transference of the divine headship, for all that Zeus leaves -behind him on his decease will most assuredly take place." And, in -fact, Hercules is the only man who passed over into Olympus, became a -god after being a man, and stands higher than<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_223" id="Page_223">[Pg 223]</a></span> Prometheus, who remained -a Titan. Moreover, the overturning of the old race of tyrants is -intimately connected with the name of Hercules and the Heraklidae. The -Heraklidae break up the power of the old dynasties and royal houses, -in which we may remark the selfish desire of personal aggrandizement -and lawlessness no less than disregard for their subjects admitted no -judicial restraint, and consequently was responsible for the grossest -cruelties. Hercules, though himself in the service of a superior lord, -overcame the savagery of this despotism.</p> - -<p>In a similar way we may, to linger once more for a moment by the -illustrations we adduced on a former page, recall again to our readers -the "Eumenides" of Aeschylus. The conflict between Apollo and the -Eumenides is to be settled by the intervention of the Areopagus. In -other words, a human tribunal, as a whole, at whose head stands Athene, -stands forth as the concrete spirit of the folk, and is as such to -terminate the collision. The judges, however, give an equal number of -votes for condemnation and acquittal, having an equal reverence both -for the Eumenides and Apollo; the white pebble of Athene, however, -decides the conflict in favour of Apollo. The Eumenides break out in -indignation against this decision of Athene; she, however, allays -their wrath by promising them worship and altars in the famous grove -of Colonos. What the Eumenides have to give in return to her people -is a protection against the evils<a name="FNanchor_176_176" id="FNanchor_176_176"></a><a href="#Footnote_176_176" class="fnanchor">[176]</a> which result from the elements -of <i>Nature</i>, the earth, the heavens, the sea, and the winds; they -have further to ward off unfruitfulness in the fields, the failure of -living seed, and misbirths in all else that is procreated. Pallas, on -her part, takes beneath her protection the strife of wars and sacred -contests. Ina similar way Sophocles<a name="FNanchor_177_177" id="FNanchor_177_177"></a><a href="#Footnote_177_177" class="fnanchor">[177]</a>, in his "Antigone," not only -makes Antigone suffer and die, but to a like extent we find that Kreon -is punished by the loss of his wife and the death of Haemon, both of -whom perish through the death of Antigone.</p> - -<p>(<i>c</i>) <i>Thirdly</i>, the ancient gods do not merely preserve their<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_224" id="Page_224">[Pg 224]</a></span> place -in juxtaposition to the new, but, what is of more importance, the -natural basis itself is maintained by the new gods, and receives, -continuing to made its echo sound in them, if in conformity with the -spiritual individuality of classical art, a reverential acceptance.</p> - -<p>(<i>α</i>) And for this reason people are not unfrequently led into the -error of conceiving the Greek gods, in respect to their human character -and form, as mere <i>allegories</i> of such natural elements. This is not -so. In this sense we frequently hear it stated that Helios is the -god of the sun, Diana the goddess of the moon, or Neptune the god of -the sea. Such a separation, however, between the natural element, as -content, and the humanly shaped personification, as form, no less than -the external association of both, regarded merely as the masterdom of -the god over the natural fact, as we are accustomed to it in the Old -Testament, is quite inapplicable to Greek conceptions. We never find -among the Greeks such an expression as ὁ θεὸς τoῦ ἡλίoυ, τῆς θαλάσσης, -and so forth, though it is quite certain they would have used with -others such an expression for the relation in question, had it been -compatible with their point of view. Helios is the sun as god.</p> - -<p>(<i>β</i>) We must, however, at once insist on the further fact that the -Greeks never regarded mere Nature as itself divine. On the contrary, -they retained the definite conception that what was purely natural -was not divine. This is partly contained, if unexpressed, in what -their gods actually are, in part also it is expressly stated so by -themselves. Plutarch, for example, in his essay upon Isis and Osiris, -refers incidentally to the modes of interpretation current of myths -and divinities. Osiris and Isis belong to the Egyptian theogony, and -had yet more of the natural element for their content than the Greek -gods, who correspond to them; they merely express the longing and -conflict to escape out of the circle of Nature to that of Spirit. In -later times they were very highly honoured in Rome, and the mysteries -allied with them were of great importance. Yet for all that it is -Plutarch's view that it would be an interpretation beneath the level -of the subject to think of explaining them as sun, earth, or water. -Only that which in the sun, Earth, and so forth, is without measure or -co-ordination,<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_225" id="Page_225">[Pg 225]</a></span> defective or superfluous, can strictly be referred to -the natural elements, and all that is good and conformable to order is -as exclusively a work of Isis, and the rational principle, the λόγoς, -a work of Osiris. It is not, therefore, the natural as such which is -adduced as the substantive content of these gods, but the spiritual -principle, the universal, λόγoς, reason, conformity to law.</p> - -<p>By virtue of this insight into the spiritual nature of the gods, the -more definite elements of Nature, then, had also among the Greeks -been differentiated from the later gods. We have, it is true, grown -accustomed to associate Helios and Selene, to take two examples, with -Apollo and Diana: in Homer, however, they are presented as distinct. -The same remark applies to Oceanos and others.</p> - -<p>(<i>γ</i>) But in the <i>third</i> place an echo still lingers in the new gods -of the natural powers, whose operative energies themselves belong to -the spiritual individuality of the gods. We have already indicated, -at an earlier stage, the basis of this positive connection of the -spiritual and natural in the ideal of classical art, and may limit our -observations here to a few illustrations.</p> - -<p>(<i>αα</i>) In Poseidon resides, as in Pontus and Oceanus, the might of -the world-encircling sea, but his power and activity extends further. -He built Ilium and was a shield of Athens. Generally he is revered -as the founder of cities, in so far as the sea is the element of -sea-faring, of commerce, and a bond between mankind. Apollo, in like -manner, is the light of knowledge, of oracular speech, and preserves, -moreover, a distant relation with Helios, as the natural light of the -sun. Critics differ, no doubt—take Voss and Creuzer for examples—as -to whether Apollo is referable to the sun. One may, however, in fact, -assert that he both is and is not the sun, since he is not limited to -its natural content, but is raised thereby to the significance of a -spiritual import. It is impossible to escape the inevitable connection -in which knowledge and light, the light of Nature and that of Spirit, -if we regard their fundamental characteristics, stand relatively to -one another. Light regarded as a element of Nature is that which -manifests. Without our seeing Light itself it makes visible to us the -illuminated objects around. By means of Light everything grows on -the plane of contemplation<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_226" id="Page_226">[Pg 226]</a></span> for something else. Spirit, that is the -free light of consciousness, knowledge, and cognition, possesses just -the same character of manifestation. The distinction, apart from the -differences of the respective spheres, in which these two modes of -manifestation reveal themselves, consists simply in this, that Spirit -reveals itself, and in that which it brings us, or which it assimilates -as content<a name="FNanchor_178_178" id="FNanchor_178_178"></a><a href="#Footnote_178_178" class="fnanchor">[178]</a>, remains constant to itself. Light, however, does not -make itself apprehensible to itself, but, on the contrary, makes that -which is other and external to itself apprehensible; and though, no -doubt, we may say this is done from its own resources, yet it cannot, -as the Spirit can, once more retire into itself. For this reason it -does not win the higher unity which finds itself constant by itself in -another. Just as, then, light and knowledge are closely associated, we -find in Apollo, as spiritual god, still a recollection of the light of -the sun. For this reason Homer, for example, ascribes the plague in -the camp of the Greeks to Apollo, which, in such a locality is in the -summer solstice ascribable to the operation of the sun. We may add that -his deadly arrows have unquestionably a symbolical reference to the -solar rays. In the external representation it is external signs which -more closely determine under what specific interpretation the god shall -be mainly accepted.</p> - -<p>More particularly when we follow up the origins of the later gods -we are able to recognize the natural element, which the gods of the -classic ideal retain in themselves. This is a point which Creuzer in -particular has made clear. For example, in the conception of Jupiter -there are many features which indicate a solar source. The twelve -labours of Hercules, the expedition, for example, in which he carries -off the apples of the Hesperides, have relation both to the sun and -the twelve months. At the root of the conception of Diana we have the -distinct suggestion of the mother of Nature, just as the Ephesian -Diana, for example, which floats between the old world and the new, -has for her fundamental content Nature generally, procreation and -nutrition; which latter feature is clearly indicated in a part of her -external form, namely the breasts. If we consider the Greek Artemis, on -the other hand, the huntress, who<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_227" id="Page_227">[Pg 227]</a></span> slays wild animals, we find that in -her humanly beautiful and maiden form and self-continency, this aspect -falls entirely into the background, although the half moon and the -arrows still distinctly recall to us Selene. To take Aphrodite in the -same way, the more we follow her back to her original source in Asia -the more she approaches a force of Nature. Once arrived in Greece, the -spiritual and more individual aspect of her grace, charm, and love, -passion is more emphasized, albeit here, too, the natural basis is by -no means entirely absent. In the same way the productivity of Nature -is, no doubt, the original cradle which gives us Ceres. Starting from -that we proceed to the spiritual content, whose relations are developed -from agriculture, property, etc. The source in Nature of the Muses -is the murmur of the spring-water; and Zeus himself may be accepted -under one aspect as the universal Power of Nature, and is revered as -the Thunderer, as with Homer already thunder is the sign of misfortune -or assistance, is, in short, an omen, and as such is relative to that -which is human and spiritual. Juno, too, implies a natural association -with the firmament of cloud and the heavenly sphere in which the gods -move to and fro. So we are told, for example, that Zeus laid Hercules -on the breast of Juno, and from the milk which spouted thereout flashed -into being the Milky Way.</p> - -<p>(<i>ββ</i>) Just as, then, in the later gods, from one point of view the -universal elements of Nature are dethroned, while from another they are -maintained, we have the same process repeated in that which is, more -strictly speaking, animal, which we merely regarded in a former passage -on the side of its degradation. We are now able to point out a more -positive aspect under which such may be considered. Since, however, -in the classic gods the symbolic mode of configuration is abolished, -and they secure as their content the spirit that is self-luminous, -the symbolical <i>significance</i> of animals must tend to pass away -precisely in proportion as the animal form has taken to itself the -right to mingle with the human under a mode naturally alien to it. -It will therefore appear merely as a significant attribute, and is -established in juxtaposition to the human form of the gods. Thus we -find the eagle as attendant on Jupiter, the peacock on Juno, the doves -as accompanying Aphrodite, the hound,<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_228" id="Page_228">[Pg 228]</a></span> Anubis, as watch-dog of the -lower world, and so forth. If, therefore, there is still a symbolical -aspect which attaches to the ideals of the spiritual gods, yet, if -contrasted with the original significance, it will appear of little -importance; and the natural significance, if strictly regarded, which -previously constituted the essential content, will merely persist as -a residue, and mere particular mode of externality, which, on account -of its accidental character, more often than not has a grotesque -appearance, for the reason that the former significance is no longer -there. Inasmuch as the ideal content of these gods is that which -partakes of Spirit and humanity, the externality pertinent to them -approximates to a <i>human</i> contingency and weakness. In this connection -we may once more recall to memory the numerous love affairs of Zeus. -According to their original symbolic significance, they are related, as -we already have seen, to the universal activity of generation, that is, -the vitality of Nature. As the love affairs of Zeus, however, which, -in so far as his marriage with Here is to be regarded as the permanent -and substantive sexual relation, appear in the light of an infidelity -towards his spouse, they have the complexion of accidental adventures, -and exchange their symbolical sense for unconnected tales which possess -the character of purely capricious invention.</p> - -<p>With this degradation of the powers which are purely natural and of the -animal aspect no less than of the abstract universality of spiritual -relations, and with the re-acceptance of the same within the spiritual -individuality, permeated and Suffused as it is with Nature, we leave -behind us the origins of classical art which are stamped with necessity -and are presupposed by its essence, inasmuch as it is on this path -that the Ideal evolves itself by its own agency with that which it is -according to its notion. This reality of the spiritual gods adequate to -its notion carries us on to the genuine Ideals of the classical type of -art, which, in contrast to the old <i>régime</i> which has been vanquished, -represent immortality<a name="FNanchor_179_179" id="FNanchor_179_179"></a><a href="#Footnote_179_179" class="fnanchor">[179]</a>, for mortality generally resides in the -incompatibility of the notion to its determinate existence.</p> -<hr class="r5" /> -<div class="footnote"> - -<p><a name="Footnote_139_139" id="Footnote_139_139"></a><a href="#FNanchor_139_139"><span class="label">[139]</span></a> <i>Als eine Unwürdigkeit</i>. As something unworthy of the -full notion of its gods.</p></div> - -<div class="footnote"> - -<p><a name="Footnote_140_140" id="Footnote_140_140"></a><a href="#FNanchor_140_140"><span class="label">[140]</span></a> That is, the relegation of it to a position of -inferiority.</p></div> - -<div class="footnote"> - -<p><a name="Footnote_141_141" id="Footnote_141_141"></a><a href="#FNanchor_141_141"><span class="label">[141]</span></a> This is the German word. By genius I presume Hegel means -"the familiar spirit" of a particular animal. Apparently this rather -than "kind." "Iliad," II, 308; XII, 208.</p></div> - -<div class="footnote"> - -<p><a name="Footnote_142_142" id="Footnote_142_142"></a><a href="#FNanchor_142_142"><span class="label">[142]</span></a> "Odyss." XIV, 414; XXIV, 215.</p></div> - -<div class="footnote"> - -<p><a name="Footnote_143_143" id="Footnote_143_143"></a><a href="#FNanchor_143_143"><span class="label">[143]</span></a> "Metam." I, vv. 150-243.</p></div> - -<div class="footnote"> - -<p><a name="Footnote_144_144" id="Footnote_144_144"></a><a href="#FNanchor_144_144"><span class="label">[144]</span></a> "Metam." VI, vv. 440-676.</p></div> - -<div class="footnote"> - -<p><a name="Footnote_145_145" id="Footnote_145_145"></a><a href="#FNanchor_145_145"><span class="label">[145]</span></a> "Metam." I, vv. 451-567.</p></div> - -<div class="footnote"> - -<p><a name="Footnote_146_146" id="Footnote_146_146"></a><a href="#FNanchor_146_146"><span class="label">[146]</span></a> <i>Ibid.</i>, IX, vv. 454-64.</p></div> - -<div class="footnote"> - -<p><a name="Footnote_147_147" id="Footnote_147_147"></a><a href="#FNanchor_147_147"><span class="label">[147]</span></a> <i>Ibid.,</i> V, v. 302.</p></div> - -<div class="footnote"> - -<p><a name="Footnote_148_148" id="Footnote_148_148"></a><a href="#FNanchor_148_148"><span class="label">[148]</span></a> <i>Ibid.</i>, vv. 319-31.</p></div> - -<div class="footnote"> - -<p><a name="Footnote_149_149" id="Footnote_149_149"></a><a href="#FNanchor_149_149"><span class="label">[149]</span></a> "Herod." II, 46.</p></div> - -<div class="footnote"> - -<p><a name="Footnote_150_150" id="Footnote_150_150"></a><a href="#FNanchor_150_150"><span class="label">[150]</span></a> Creuzer, "Symb." I, 477.</p></div> - -<div class="footnote"> - -<p><a name="Footnote_151_151" id="Footnote_151_151"></a><a href="#FNanchor_151_151"><span class="label">[151]</span></a> That is, the sphere of fauns as a part of Nature.</p></div> - -<div class="footnote"> - -<p><a name="Footnote_152_152" id="Footnote_152_152"></a><a href="#FNanchor_152_152"><span class="label">[152]</span></a> <i>Praktisch.</i> The contrast is between the philosophic -contemplation and the world regarded as the sphere of human activity.</p></div> - -<div class="footnote"> - -<p><a name="Footnote_153_153" id="Footnote_153_153"></a><a href="#FNanchor_153_153"><span class="label">[153]</span></a> By <i>Umkehr</i> Hegel probably means a "return" in the -direction of the art of the Sublime.</p></div> - -<div class="footnote"> - -<p><a name="Footnote_154_154" id="Footnote_154_154"></a><a href="#FNanchor_154_154"><span class="label">[154]</span></a> <i>Einen bestimmten Kreis.</i> The meaning seems to be that -the circle of examples is here a clearly defined and limited one as -contrasted with the vagueness of Oriental Pantheism.</p></div> - -<div class="footnote"> - -<p><a name="Footnote_155_155" id="Footnote_155_155"></a><a href="#FNanchor_155_155"><span class="label">[155]</span></a> "Herod." II, 52.</p></div> - -<div class="footnote"> - -<p><a name="Footnote_156_156" id="Footnote_156_156"></a><a href="#FNanchor_156_156"><span class="label">[156]</span></a> <i>War ein entscheidendes Moment.</i> That is, was part of -the oracular reply.</p></div> - -<div class="footnote"> - -<p><a name="Footnote_157_157" id="Footnote_157_157"></a><a href="#FNanchor_157_157"><span class="label">[157]</span></a> Both wording and punctuation of this sentence are at -fault, but I give the sense no doubt intended.</p></div> - -<div class="footnote"> - -<p><a name="Footnote_158_158" id="Footnote_158_158"></a><a href="#FNanchor_158_158"><span class="label">[158]</span></a> I am not sure what is referred to here by <i>Telchinen</i> -and <i>Pätaken.</i></p></div> - -<div class="footnote"> - -<p><a name="Footnote_159_159" id="Footnote_159_159"></a><a href="#FNanchor_159_159"><span class="label">[159]</span></a> <i>Das Ganze</i>, means here, I think, the whole of Creation.</p></div> - -<div class="footnote"> - -<p><a name="Footnote_160_160" id="Footnote_160_160"></a><a href="#FNanchor_160_160"><span class="label">[160]</span></a> That is, took no further active interest in human life.</p></div> - -<div class="footnote"> - -<p><a name="Footnote_161_161" id="Footnote_161_161"></a><a href="#FNanchor_161_161"><span class="label">[161]</span></a> Politicus ex rec. Bekk. II, 2, p. 283; Steph. 274.</p></div> - -<div class="footnote"> - -<p><a name="Footnote_162_162" id="Footnote_162_162"></a><a href="#FNanchor_162_162"><span class="label">[162]</span></a> "Protag." I, 1, pp. 170-4; Steph. 320-3.</p></div> - -<div class="footnote"> - -<p><a name="Footnote_163_163" id="Footnote_163_163"></a><a href="#FNanchor_163_163"><span class="label">[163]</span></a> I have just above translated <i>Sitte</i> with the word -"custom," that is, ethical custom. But the contrast here is, I -think, between morality generally (<i>sittlich</i>) and juridical right -(<i>Rechtliche</i>).</p></div> - -<div class="footnote"> - -<p><a name="Footnote_164_164" id="Footnote_164_164"></a><a href="#FNanchor_164_164"><span class="label">[164]</span></a> The argument of Hegel is ingenious. It must be admitted, -however, that in several accounts of Prometheus, notably that of -Aeschylus, Zeus is represented as hostile to human progress. And it -is rather a strain on the facts to trace, in the case of Ceres, so -much that is of an ethical colour to agriculture, and limit the use of -fire simply to the crafts of Hephaestos, ignoring, that is to say, its -domestic use altogether.</p></div> - -<div class="footnote"> - -<p><a name="Footnote_165_165" id="Footnote_165_165"></a><a href="#FNanchor_165_165"><span class="label">[165]</span></a> <i>Der Sittlichkeit.</i></p></div> - -<div class="footnote"> - -<p><a name="Footnote_166_166" id="Footnote_166_166"></a><a href="#FNanchor_166_166"><span class="label">[166]</span></a> <i>Gehaltvolle.</i> That is, intrinsically sound and -substantial.</p></div> - -<div class="footnote"> - -<p><a name="Footnote_167_167" id="Footnote_167_167"></a><a href="#FNanchor_167_167"><span class="label">[167]</span></a> "Eum." vv. 206-9.</p></div> - -<div class="footnote"> - -<p><a name="Footnote_168_168" id="Footnote_168_168"></a><a href="#FNanchor_168_168"><span class="label">[168]</span></a> Soph., "Ant." v. 451: ἡ ξὐνoικoς τῶν κάτω θεῶν Δἰκη.</p></div> - -<div class="footnote"> - -<p><a name="Footnote_169_169" id="Footnote_169_169"></a><a href="#FNanchor_169_169"><span class="label">[169]</span></a> <i>Umgestaltung.</i> Remodelling, reorganization. Reformation -in literal sense.</p></div> - -<div class="footnote"> - -<p><a name="Footnote_170_170" id="Footnote_170_170"></a><a href="#FNanchor_170_170"><span class="label">[170]</span></a> <i>Trübe.</i> "Troubled" perhaps is better.</p></div> - -<div class="footnote"> - -<p><a name="Footnote_171_171" id="Footnote_171_171"></a><a href="#FNanchor_171_171"><span class="label">[171]</span></a> The Cabeiri were mystic Powers. Aeschylus wrote a drama -under this title. The ancients differ greatly as to their origin and -nature, Herodotus assumes an Egyptian origin.</p></div> - -<div class="footnote"> - -<p><a name="Footnote_172_172" id="Footnote_172_172"></a><a href="#FNanchor_172_172"><span class="label">[172]</span></a> <i>Feste</i> is as a substantive a stronghold, and this may -be Hegel's meaning, but I think he uses it here for <i>Festigkeit</i>, -consistency, compact security.</p></div> - -<div class="footnote"> - -<p><a name="Footnote_173_173" id="Footnote_173_173"></a><a href="#FNanchor_173_173"><span class="label">[173]</span></a> The sentence is not very clear. The sense is that -Prometheus is honoured as the Earth and Sun are honoured by his -assistance of human needs.</p></div> - -<div class="footnote"> - -<p><a name="Footnote_174_174" id="Footnote_174_174"></a><a href="#FNanchor_174_174"><span class="label">[174]</span></a> Vv. 54-6. "This entire spot is sacred; awful Poseidon -holds it, and therein is the fire bringing god, the Titan Prometheus."</p></div> - -<div class="footnote"> - -<p><a name="Footnote_175_175" id="Footnote_175_175"></a><a href="#FNanchor_175_175"><span class="label">[175]</span></a> Vv. 1645-8.</p></div> - -<div class="footnote"> - -<p><a name="Footnote_176_176" id="Footnote_176_176"></a><a href="#FNanchor_176_176"><span class="label">[176]</span></a> Vv. 901 <i>et seq.</i></p></div> - -<div class="footnote"> - -<p><a name="Footnote_177_177" id="Footnote_177_177"></a><a href="#FNanchor_177_177"><span class="label">[177]</span></a> Hegel means that in the suffering of Kleon Sophocles -treats the natural law of Antigone and the higher law of the king on -the same terms.</p></div> - -<div class="footnote"> - -<p><a name="Footnote_178_178" id="Footnote_178_178"></a><a href="#FNanchor_178_178"><span class="label">[178]</span></a> Lit., "what is made for it," <i>e.g.</i>, the detail of -objective experience.</p></div> - -<div class="footnote"> - -<p><a name="Footnote_179_179" id="Footnote_179_179"></a><a href="#FNanchor_179_179"><span class="label">[179]</span></a> <i>Unvergänglichkeit.</i> Hegel no doubt refers to the -epithet always applied by Homer and other, Greek poets to the gods of -Olympus, immortal.</p> - -<hr class="chap" /> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_229" id="Page_229">[Pg 229]</a></span></p></div> - - - - -<h5>CHAPTER II</h5> - -<h4>THE IDEAL OF THE CLASSICAL TYPE OF ART</h4> - -<p>We have already seen what the essence of the Ideal is in our general -consideration of the beauty of art. Here we are to take it merely in -the special sense appropriate to the <i>classic</i> Ideal, whose notion has -already presented itself in its general features in its association -with the notion of the <i>classical</i> art-type. For the Ideal, of which -we have now to speak, consists simply in this, that classical art in -very truth attains to and sets before us that which exposes its most -intimate notion. As content it grasps on this particular plane the -spiritual, in so far as this Spirit attracts Nature and her powers to -its own appropriate realm, and sets itself before us in exposition not -as mere inwardness and dominion over Nature, but furthermore accepts -as its proper form, human shape, deed, and action, through which -the spiritual shines forth clearly in perfect freedom, and the form -penetrates with its life into the sensuous material not merely as into -a mode of externality symbolically significant, but as actually into a -determinate existence, which is the adequate existence of Spirit.</p> - -<p>We may divide up, then, the present chapter into the following sections:</p> - -<p>We have in the <i>first</i> place to consider the <i>general</i> character of -the classic Ideal, which possesses what is pertinent to humanity -in its form no less than its content, and elaborates both sides in -the completest consistency one with the other. <i>Secondly</i>, however, -forasmuch as here the human is absorbed wholly into the bodily shape -and external appearance, it becomes the <i>definite</i> external shape, -which in its conformity is merely a defined content. Since, therefore, -we have the Ideal before us at the same time as <i>particularity</i>,<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_230" id="Page_230">[Pg 230]</a></span> there -arises a definite number of <i>particular</i> gods and powers in the shape -of human existence. <i>Thirdly</i>, this particularity does not persist in -the abstraction of <i>one</i> type of definition, whose essential character -would constitute the entire content and the one-sided principle for its -representation; but rather it is quite as much essentially a totality -and the <i>individual</i> unity and congruity which is applicable to such. -Without this repletion such particularity would remain cold and empty; -the vitality of Life would fail it, a contingency which is impossible -to the Ideal in any relation whatever.</p> - -<p>We have now to consider more narrowly the Ideal of classical art -according to these three aspects of universality, particularity, and -individual singularity.</p> - - -<h6>1. THE IDEAL OF CLASSICAL ART GENERALLY</h6> - -<p>The questions which arise relatively to the origins of the Greek gods, -in so far as the real centre for ideal reproduction results from -them, we have already touched upon, and seen that they belong to the -elaborated tradition of art. The modification that is incidental to -that treatment can only proceed by means of the twofold degradation, -on the one hand, of the universal powers of Nature and their -personification, and, on the other, of the animal constituents and -its form, in order that thereby it may win the spiritual as its true -determinate substance, and also the human mode of appearance as its -true form.</p> - -<p>(<i>a</i>) We have described how the classical Ideal first really becomes -actual through such a remodelling of that which came before the -earliest aspect of it. Along with this we have above all to draw -attention to just this fact, that it is generated from mind (Spirit), -and consequently has originated in the most intimate and personal -resources of the poets and artists, who brought it into the presence -of conscious life with the aid of a thoughtful consideration as -clear as it was unfettered and with the distinct object of artistic -production. In opposition to this creation we have, however, apparently -the fact that Greek mythology reposes on earlier traditions, and -contains distinct references to foreign, that is Oriental, matter. -Herodotus, for example, although specifically asserting in the passage -already cited that Homer and Hesiod<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_231" id="Page_231">[Pg 231]</a></span> created for the Greeks their -gods, nevertheless in other passages associates closely these very -Greek gods with other divinities such as those of Egypt. For in the -second book<a name="FNanchor_180_180" id="FNanchor_180_180"></a><a href="#Footnote_180_180" class="fnanchor">[180]</a> he expressly narrates that Melampus gave the name of -Dionysos to the Greeks, further introduced the Phallus and the entire -sacrificial festival, adding, however, this discrepant detail, that -Melampus had learnt the religious service from the Tyrian Kadmus and -the Phoenicians, who came with Kadmus to Boeotia. These contradictory -statements have roused interest in our own times, more particularly -as associated with Creuzer's researches, who endeavours to discover -in Homer, for example, ancient mysteries and the sources which flowed -in together towards Greece, whether they be Asiatic, Pelasgian, -Dodonian, Thracian, Samothracian, Phrygian, Indian, Buddhistic, -Phoenician, Egyptian, or Orphic, to say nothing of the infinitely -varied peculiarities of specific localities and other details. No doubt -it appears at first sight wholly inconsistent with these many sources -of tradition that those poets should have supplied either the names or -the substantial form of the gods. It is possible, however, to harmonize -entirely both factors, tradition, and individual creation. The -tradition comes first; it is the point of departure, which hands down -the mere ingredients; but for all that it does not contribute the real -content and the genuine form of the gods. This substantive presence is -the product of the genius of those poets, who discovered by a process -of free elaboration the true substantive form of these very gods and -are consequently in fact become the creators of that mythology which -awakes our admiration of Greek art. Yet for this reason the Homeric -gods, in one aspect of them, are not to be taken as the result merely -of the poetic phantasy, or nothing more than capricious invention. They -have their roots in the genius and beliefs of the Greek folk and the -religious basis of that nation. They are the absolute potencies and -powers, the highest stretch of the Greek conception, the central point -of the beautiful regarded universally, presented, so to speak, by the -Muses themselves to the poet.</p> - -<p>In this free handling, then, the artist takes up an entirely different -position from that he occupies in the East. The<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_232" id="Page_232">[Pg 232]</a></span> Hindoo poets and -sages have also to begin with material ready to work upon, such as the -elements of Nature, the heavens, animals, streams, and so forth, or -the pure abstraction of the formless and contentless Brahman. Their -enthusiasm, however, is a confusion of the ideal character<a name="FNanchor_181_181" id="FNanchor_181_181"></a><a href="#Footnote_181_181" class="fnanchor">[181]</a> of -the subjectivity which accepts the difficult task of elaborating such -an external material to it, an enthusiasm which, in the unmeasured -expansion of its imagination, which excludes every secure and -absolute<a name="FNanchor_182_182" id="FNanchor_182_182"></a><a href="#Footnote_182_182" class="fnanchor">[182]</a> direction, is unable to mould its creations conformably -to genuine freedom of expression and beauty, and remains the slave -of that material in uncontrolled and roving productive activity. It -resembles, in fact, a master-builder who has no firm foundation beneath -him. Ancient ruins of half dismantled walls, mounds, and projecting -rocks fetter him, quite apart from the particular aims according to -which he desires to construct his building; and he can only create -a wild, inharmonious, and fantastical fabric. In other words, that -which he produces is not the result of his imagination freely acting -under its own plastic genius. Conversely the Hebrew poets present -us with revelations which, it is said, they deliver as the Lord's -voice, so that here again the creative source is an enthusiasm not -fully self-conscious; it is separated, that is, and distinct from -individuality and the productive genius of the artist, as in the wisdom -of the Sublime generally it is the abstract and eternal, essentially -in its relation to something other than it and external, which is -consciously or imaginatively conceived.</p> - -<p>In classical art artists and poets are, it is true, also prophets and -teachers, who declare and reveal to mankind the nature of the Absolute -and Divine. But we must emphasize here the following distinctions:</p> - -<p>(<i>α</i>) In the <i>first</i> place the content of their gods is neither that -appearance of Nature which is external to humanity nor the mere -abstraction of one Godhead, whereby merely a superficial formulation -or an inwardness that is without content is preserved. Their content -is, on the contrary, deduced from human life and existence, and for -this reason is that which is peculiar to the human breast; a content, -in<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_233" id="Page_233">[Pg 233]</a></span> short, with which man himself can freely coalesce as at home with -himself, while that which he thus produces is the fairest product of -his own activity.</p> - -<p>(<i>β</i>) <i>Secondly</i>, these artists are at the same time <i>poets</i>, that is, -men of creative talent who work the aforesaid material and its content -into a free and substantially independent form. As thus regarded Greek -artists are in all essential respects creative poets. They have brought -together all the varied original ingredients into the melting-pot, -but they have produced thereby no mere broth, such as might come from -a witches' cauldron; rather they did away with all that is troubled, -purely natural, unclean, foreign, and without rational measure in the -pure flame of this more profound spirit; they made all glow together -and permitted the form to appear at last purified, albeit it still -retained a distant accord with the ruder material from which it was -fashioned. What mainly concerned them in this work consisted partly -in the winnowing away of all that was in their inherited material -destitute of form and beauty, distorted and symbolical, and partly in -the prominence they gave to what was really spiritual, which they set -themselves to render under modes of individuality, and in the interest -of which they had to discover gradually the external appearance most -appropriate. Here for the first time we find that it is the human form -and human actions and events, not merely made use of under the mode -of personification, which, as we have already seen, necessarily stand -forth as the uniquely adequate reality. No doubt the artist discovers -these forms, too, in the real world; but he has at the same time to -eradicate all that is accidental and incongruent in them, before they -are entitled to appear as commensurable with that humanity, which, as -essentially apprehended, shall offer to us the image of the eternal -powers and gods. And this is what we call the free and spiritual, and -not merely capricious production of the artist.</p> - -<p>(<i>γ</i>) And, <i>thirdly</i>, for the reason that the gods are not merely -stable existences in their own world, but also are active within the -concrete reality of Nature and human, events, the poet is further -concerned to recognize the presence and activity of the gods in this -relation to human, fact, to interpret, that is, the particularity of -natural event and<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_234" id="Page_234">[Pg 234]</a></span> human actions and destiny wherein the divine powers -are apparently interfused, and to share thus the duties of the priest -and the seer. We, from the point of view of our everyday prosaic -reflection, explain the phenomena of Nature according to universal laws -and forces, and interpret the actions of mankind as the product of -their subjective intentions and self-proposed aims. The Greek poets, -however, have their eyes everywhere directed toward the Divine, and -create, by giving to human activities the loftier colour and habit -of divine actions, and by means of such interpretation, the various -aspects under which the power of the gods is made visible. For a number -of such interpretations results in a number of actions, in which we -are made aware of the character of this or that god. We have but to -open, for example, the Homeric poems, and we shall scarcely meet with -a single event of importance which is not more closely elucidated as -proceeding from the volition or actual assistance of the gods. These -expositions are, in fact, the insight, the independently created -belief, the intuitive conceptions of the poet, just as Homer often, -too, gives expression to them in his own name, and in part also places -such in the mouth of his characters, whether priest or hero. Quite at -the opening of the "Iliad," for example, he has himself explained the -pestilence in the Greek camp as the result of the indignation of Apollo -over Agamemnon, who refused to release to Chryses his daughters<a name="FNanchor_183_183" id="FNanchor_183_183"></a><a href="#Footnote_183_183" class="fnanchor">[183]</a>; -and, in a passage that follows, he makes Calchas transmit this very -interpretation to the Greeks<a name="FNanchor_184_184" id="FNanchor_184_184"></a><a href="#Footnote_184_184" class="fnanchor">[184]</a>.</p> - -<p>In a similar way Homer informs us in the concluding canto of the -"Odyssey"—on the occasion when Hermes conducted the shades of the -inanimate suitors to the meadows of Asphodel, and they find there -Achilles and the other deceased heroes, who fought before Troy, and -finally, too, Agamemnon joins them—how the last-mentioned describes -the death of Achilles<a name="FNanchor_185_185" id="FNanchor_185_185"></a><a href="#Footnote_185_185" class="fnanchor">[185]</a>:</p> - -<p>"The whole day long had the Greeks fought; and when at last Zeus -separated the combatants, they carried the noble body to the ships, -and washed it, weeping often the while, and embalmed it. Then there -arose a divine uproar on the<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_235" id="Page_235">[Pg 235]</a></span> sea, and the affrighted Achaeans would -have been flung headlong into their hollow ships, had not an aged and -much knowing man, Nestor to wit, restrained them, whose advice had -also proved the wisest on former occasion." Nestor then interprets for -them the phenomenon in the following terms: "The <i>mother</i><a name="FNanchor_186_186" id="FNanchor_186_186"></a><a href="#Footnote_186_186" class="fnanchor">[186]</a> comes -forth from the sea with the immortal sea-goddesses, in order to meet -her deceased son. And the great-hearted Achaeans at this word let -their fear depart from them." That is to say, they knew then of what -kind it was—of human origin—the mother in her grief comes toward -him; what they shall see and hear is that which finds its response -in themselves. Achilles is her son, she is herself full of grief. -And in this vein Agamemnon, turning towards Achilles, continues his -narrative with a description of the universal sorrow: "And around thee -stood the daughters of the ancient of the sea, lamenting, and they -robed themselves in ambrosial garments; and the Muses also, the nine -in conclave, wailed by turns in beautiful song; and there was I ween -no man of the Argives to be seen without tears, so greatly did the -clear-toned song move all."</p> - -<p>It is, however, another divine apparition in the "Odyssey" which has -always in this connection most particularly fascinated me in my study -of it. Odysseus in his sea-wanderings, insulted among the Phaeacians -during the sports over which Euryalos presides, because he refused to -take part in the rival throwing of the discus, makes answer indignantly -with dark looks and hard words. He then stands up, seizes a disk, -larger and heavier than the rest, and hurls it far and away over the -mark. One of the Phaeacians marks down the throw and calls out: "Even -a blind man could see the stone; it does not lie within the medley of -the rest, but far beyond. Thou hast nothing to fear in this contest; -there is no Phaeacian who will reach or surpass such a throw as thine -is. So he spake; but the much-enduring divine Odysseus rejoiced to see -a well-disposed friend in the lists." And this word, this friendly nod -of the Phaeacian Homer interprets as the friendly apparition of Athene.</p> - -<p>(<i>b</i>) Of what kind, then, we may further ask, are the <i>products</i> of -this classical mode of artistic activity, of what type are the new gods -of Greek art?</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_236" id="Page_236">[Pg 236]</a></span></p> - -<p>(<i>α</i>) It is their concentrated individuality which presents to us the -most general and at the same time most complete idea of their intrinsic -character, in so far, that is, as this individuality is brought -together out of the variety of accidental traits, isolated actions, and -events into the one focus of their simple and self-exclusive unity.</p> - -<p>(<i>αα</i>) What appeals to us in these gods is first of all the spiritual -and <i>substantive</i> individuality, which, withdrawn into itself as it -is out of the motley show of the particular medium of necessity, and, -the many-purposed unrest of the finite condition, reposes on its own -inviolable universality, as on an eternal and intelligible foundation. -It is only thus that the gods appear as the imperishable powers, whose -untroubled rule is made visible to us not in the particular event in -its evolution with somewhat else and external to it, but freely in its -own unchangeableness and intrinsic worth.</p> - -<p>(<i>ββ</i>) Conversely, however, they are not by any means the bare -abstraction of spiritual generalities, and thereby so-called general -Ideals, but in so far as they are individuals they appear as one Ideal, -an essentially of itself determinate existence, and consequently -one that is defined, in other words one that as Spirit possesses -<i>characterization.</i> Without character we can have no individuality. -From this point of view we find, as we have already indicated -previously, that there is at the root of these spiritual gods a -definite natural force, with which a definite ethical consistency<a name="FNanchor_187_187" id="FNanchor_187_187"></a><a href="#Footnote_187_187" class="fnanchor">[187]</a> -is blended, such as imposes on every particular god distinct bounds to -the sphere of his activity. The manifold aspects and traits which are -forthcoming by reason of this characterization as particular persons, -being in this way concentrated in the point of a true self-identity, -constitute the characters of the gods.</p> - -<p>(<i>γγ</i>) In the true Ideal, however, this definition ought just as little -to terminate in the blunt restriction of pure <i>one sidedness</i>, but -must at the same time appear as withdrawn into the universality of the -godhead. In just such a way, then, every god, by carrying in his own -person this defined character as divine and as bound up with that as -universal individuality, is in part of a definite type, and in part -is all in all, and floats, as it were, precisely midway between mere -universality and equally abstract singularity. And this is<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_237" id="Page_237">[Pg 237]</a></span> what gives -to the genuine Ideal of classical art its infinite security and repose, -its untroubled blessedness and unimpaired freedom.</p> - -<p>(<i>β</i>) Add to this that as beauty of classical art the essentially -self-articulate divine character is not only spiritual, but fully as -much plastic form which appears externally in its bodily presence to -the eye no less than to the mind.</p> - -<p>(<i>αα</i>) This beauty, inasmuch as it possesses not merely the natural or -animal aspect in its spiritual personification, but includes as its -content that which is spiritual in its adequate mode of existence, -can only take up what is <i>symbolical</i> in its incidental aspect and -under those relations in which it appears as purely natural. Its real -external expression is the form that is peculiar to mind and only mind, -in so far as its ideal character reveals itself as existent truth, and -pours itself wholly through that form.</p> - -<p>(<i>ββ</i>) From another point of view classical beauty is debarred -from giving expression to the <i>Sublime.</i> For it is only the -abstract universal, which attaches to itself no inclusion such as -is self-defined, but merely a negative determinacy relatively to -particularity in general, and along with this is resolute in its -antagonism to every form of embodiment which presents us with the -aspect of the Sublime. Classical beauty, on the contrary, carries -spiritual individuality into the very heart of what is at the same time -its natural existence, and elucidates the ideal content wholly in the -material of its external appearance.</p> - -<p>(<i>γγ</i>) For this very reason, however, it is essential that the -external form quite as much as the spiritual, which creates for -itself therein its home and dwelling, should be liberated from all -dependence on Nature and derangement, all finitude, all that is of -fleeting character, all that is exclusively concerned with the sensuous -presence, and should purify and exalt that definition of it which -discloses affinity with the determinate character of the god into free -commerce with the universal forms of the human figure. The stainless -externality alone, from which every hint of weakness and relativity has -been removed, and every flick of capricious particularity wiped off, is -able to represent the Spirit's ideality, which should sink itself in it -and secure an embodiment from it.</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_238" id="Page_238">[Pg 238]</a></span></p> - -<p>(<i>γ</i>) For the reason, however, that the gods are forced once more -from the defined limits of character into the universal wave, the -self-subsistency of Spirit as repose on itself, and as the security of -itself in its external form has to discover a real reflection also in -its manifestation.</p> - -<p>(<i>αα</i>) Consequently we observe in the concrete individuality of the -gods—when we have before us the genuine classic Ideal, on equal -terms with all else—this nobility and loftiness of Spirit, in which, -despite the entire absorption within the bodily and sensuous presence, -we are made conscious of the absolute removal of all the indigence -of what is wholly finite. Pure self-absorption<a name="FNanchor_188_188" id="FNanchor_188_188"></a><a href="#Footnote_188_188" class="fnanchor">[188]</a> and the abstract -liberation from every kind of determinacy is the highway to the Ideal -of the Sublime. The classical Ideal, on the contrary, is made visible -in an existence which entirely is its own, that is, the specific -manifestation of Spirit itself; yet for all that we shall find that -here, too, the Sublimity of the same is blended with the beauty, and -that the one aspect passes over immediately into the other. And this -it is which constitutes the expression of loftiness in these figures -of the gods, making inevitable the Sublime of classical beauty. An -immortal seriousness<a name="FNanchor_189_189" id="FNanchor_189_189"></a><a href="#Footnote_189_189" class="fnanchor">[189]</a> makes its throne on the forehead of these -gods, and is poured forth over their entire presentment.</p> - -<p>(<i>ββ</i>) In their beauty these gods appear, therefore, as exalted -over their individual bodily shape; we have consequently a kind -contradiction or contention between their lofty blessedness, which is, -in fact, their spiritual self-exclusiveness and their beauty, which -pertains to their external bodily presence. Spirit appears wholly -lost in its external form, and yet for all that appears quite as much -absorbed in itself from out that form. It is precisely as though we had -the moving to and fro of an immortal god among mortal men.</p> - -<p>In this relation the Greek gods make on us an impression which, despite -all difference, resembles that which the bust of Goethe by Rauch made -upon me when I first saw it. Many will have doubtless seen it, the high -brow, the powerful, commanding nose, the free eye, the round chin, -the affable, finely-cut lips, the pose of the head, so suggestive of -genius, with its glance a bit on one side and uplifted: add<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_239" id="Page_239">[Pg 239]</a></span> to this -the entire fulness and breadth of an emotional and genial humanity, -and further, those carefully articulated muscles of the forehead, of -the entire countenance, of all that gives evidence of passion and -emotion; and in all this house of Life, the repose, stillness, and -loftiness of advanced age; and we may add withal the fading ebb of the -lips, which retreat back into the teethless mouth, the slackness of -the neck and cheeks, whereby the bridge of the nose appears yet more -dominant, and the reach of the forehead yet more towering. The force -of this firmly set figure, which to an extraordinary degree brings -before us the notion of immutability, appears all the more so in the -loose environment which surrounds it<a name="FNanchor_190_190" id="FNanchor_190_190"></a><a href="#Footnote_190_190" class="fnanchor">[190]</a>, just as the sublime head and -form of the Oriental in his wide turban, but flapping over-garment and -trailing slippers. It is the secure, powerful, timeless spirit, which, -in the mask of encircling mortality, is just ready to let this husk -fall away, and yet suffers it to linger around it freely and without -restraint.</p> - -<p>In much the same way the gods appear to us in their aspect of lofty -freedom and spiritual repose to be exalted over their bodily presence, -so that they seem to feel their form, their limbs, despite all the -beauty that is there, as at the same time a superfluous appanage. And -yet withal the entire presentment is suffused with vitality, identical -with their spiritual being, inseparable, without the disunion of what -is essentially subsistent, and those parts which are more loosely put -together, the spirit in short neither escaping nor coming forth from -the body, but both firmly moulded together into a whole, out of which, -and in no other way, the self-absorption of Spirit looks forth in -silence in its amazing and secure self-possession.</p> - -<p>(<i>γγ</i>) For the reason, then, that the contention we have indicated is -present, without appearing, however, as a difference or separation of -the ideal spirituality from its external form, the negative which is -therein contained, is for this very reason immanent in this inseparable -totality and is thereby expressed. This is within the sphere of this -spiritual loftiness the breath and atmosphere of melancholy, which -men of genius have felt in the godlike figures of antique art<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_240" id="Page_240">[Pg 240]</a></span> even -where the beauty of the external presentment is consummate. The -repose of divine blessedness<a name="FNanchor_191_191" id="FNanchor_191_191"></a><a href="#Footnote_191_191" class="fnanchor">[191]</a> is unable to split itself up into -the passions of joy, pleasure, and satisfaction, and the <i>peace</i> of -immortality stands aloof from the smile of self-satisfaction and genial -contentedness. Contentment is the emotion of the agreement of our -singular subjectivity with the condition of that environment which is -defined for or given to us or brought about through our own agency. -Napoleon, for example, never expressed more thorough contentment than -when he happened to obtain some success at the cost of making all -the world discontented. For contentment is only the approval of my -own being, action, and engagements, and the extreme of it is readily -recognizable in that state of feeling of the Philistine to which every -man of practical ability necessarily extends it. This feeling and its -expression is, however, no expression appropriate to the prefigured -immortal gods. Free and perfected beauty is not satisfied with joining -the concordant temper of a particular finite existence; rather its -individuality, in its aspect as Spirit no less than in that of form, -albeit it is self-defined with characterization, only finds itself -fully in union with its true nature when it is at the same time free -universality and spirituality in repose upon itself. This universality -is just that which people are wont to point to as the frigidity of -the Greek gods. They are only cold, however, to our modern intimacy -with the temporal. Independently regarded they possess warmth and -life; that peaceful blessedness, which is reflected in their external -presentment, is essentially an abstraction from particularity, a -mode of being indifferent to the Past, a surrender of that which is -external, a giving up which, albeit neither full of trouble nor pain, -is for all that a giving up of what is earthly and evanescent, just as -their cheerfulness of spirit looks far away and over death, the grave, -loss and temporality, and for the very reason that it is profound -inherently contains this negative we are discussing. And the more this -earnestness and spiritual freedom is prominent in the vision of these -godlike figures the more we feel the contrast between this loftiness -and the determinate corporality in which they<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_241" id="Page_241">[Pg 241]</a></span> are enclosed. The -blessed gods mourn quite as much over their blessedness as their bodily -environment. In the letters of their form we read the destiny which -lies before them, and whose development, as actual manifestation of -that contradiction between this very loftiness and that particularity, -spirituality, and sensuous existence classical art itself sets face to -face with its final overthrow.</p> - -<p>(<i>c</i>) If we ask ourselves, then, <i>thirdly</i>, what is the nature of -the external representation, which is adequate to this notion of the -classic Ideal we have just indicated, we shall find in this connection, -too, that the essential points of view have already in our general -consideration of the Ideal been furnished us with considerable detail. -We have consequently here only further to remark, that in the genuine -classic Ideal the spiritual individuality of the gods is not conceived -in their relation to something else, or brought about by virtue of -their particularity in conflict, and battle, but rather is made visible -in their eternal self-tranquillity, in this painfulness of the godlike -peace itself. The determinate character is not, therefore, made active -in the way that it stimulated the gods to the sense of particular -emotions and passions, or compelled them to adopt specific aims of -conduct. On the contrary, it is precisely out of that collision and -development, nay, out of that very relation to the finite and all that -is essentially discordant that they are brought back to that condition -of pure self-absorption. This repose in its most austere severity, not -inflexible, cold, or dead, but sensitive and immutable, is the highest -and most adequate form of representation for the classic gods. When -they make their appearance consequently in specific situations, it is -not necessary that there should be conditions or actions which give -rise to conflicts, but rather such which, as themselves harmless, so, -too, leave the gods in a like condition. It is, therefore, sculpture -which among the arts is above all adapted to portray the classic Ideal -in its simple self-possession, in which what is rather the universal -divinity receives more obvious emphasis than the particular character. -Chiefly it is the more ancient and more austere type of sculpture which -maintains its firm hold of this aspect of the Ideal, and only in the -later forms we find a movement towards increased dramatic vividness -of situations and characterization.<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_242" id="Page_242">[Pg 242]</a></span> Poetry, on the contrary, ranges -the gods in vigorous action, that is, in an attitude of negation to -a definite mode of life, and brings them thereby into conflict and -strife. The repose of plastic art, where it remains in the sphere which -is uniquely its own, can only express the aforesaid negative phase of -spirit face to face with particular facts in that serious strain of -melancholy, which we have already attempted to define more nearly.</p> - - -<h6>2. THE SPHERE OF THE PARTICULAR GODS</h6> - -<p>As individuality in visible form, represented under the mode of -immediate existence, and withal both definite and particular, godhead -necessarily is divided into a number of figures. In other words, -Polytheism is unquestionably essential as the principle of classical -art, and it would be the undertaking of a fool to think of embodying -the one God of the Sublime and of Pantheism or the absolute religion, -which comprehends God purely as Spirit and essential personality, in -the plastic type of beauty, or to entertain the idea that the classical -forms could have arisen among the Jews, Mohammedans, or Christians, -as adapted to the content of their religious beliefs, from their own -original views of the world, as they did in the case of the Greeks.</p> - -<p>(<i>a</i>) In this multiplicity the divine universe<a name="FNanchor_192_192" id="FNanchor_192_192"></a><a href="#Footnote_192_192" class="fnanchor">[192]</a> at this stage -is broken up into a sphere of particular gods, of which each -individual stands by himself alone in contrast to all the others. -These individualities are not, however, of the kind that they can be -taken merely as allegorical presentations of universal qualities, as -if Apollo, for example, were the god of wisdom, Zeus of dominion. -Zeus is also quite as much wisdom, and in the "Eumenides" Apollo, as -we have seen, protects Orestes, the son and the royal son to boot, -whom he himself has stimulated to an act of vengeance. The sphere -of the Greek gods is a multiplicity of individuals, of which every -particular god, albeit also in the specific character of a particular -person, is at the same time a self-exclusive totality, which itself -possesses essentially also the quality of another god. For every such -presentment, viewed as<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_243" id="Page_243">[Pg 243]</a></span> divine, is always, too, a whole. It is only by -this means that the divine personalities of Greek religion include an -abundance of traits; and although their blessedness consists in their -universal and spiritual self-repose no less than in their abstraction -from the direct movement which Time is for ever defeating in the sphere -of the disintegrating manifold of natural fact and condition, yet for -all that they possess the power in a like degree to assert themselves -as energetic and active in many of its aspects. They are neither the -abstract particular nor the abstract universal, but the universal which -is the source of particularity.</p> - -<p>(<i>b</i>) On account of this type of individuality, however, Greek -polytheism is unable to make up an essentially systematic and -self-integrated totality. At the first glance, it is true, it appears -imperative to require of the Olympus of the gods, that the numerous -gods that are there assembled, should, as thus collected together, -and if their separable unities have real truth in them, and their -content is to be classic in the true sense, also express essentially -the totality of the Idea, should exhaust the entire sphere of the -necessary forces of Nature and Spirit, and give to themselves therefore -constructive completeness, in other words, manifest themselves as -subject to a principle of necessity. This demand, however, would be -liable from the first to the qualification that those forces present -in the emotions and, generally speaking, assertive in the sphere -of spiritual life in the absolute significance<a name="FNanchor_193_193" id="FNanchor_193_193"></a><a href="#Footnote_193_193" class="fnanchor">[193]</a> which becomes -operative first in the later and higher religion, must remain excluded -from the sphere of the classic gods, so that the range of content, the -particular aspects of which succeed in making an appearance in Greek -mythology, would be already thereby curtailed. Moreover, apart from -this, we have also on the one hand, necessarily introduced by virtue of -the essentially varied character of this individuality, the accidental -incidents of a definition, which avoids the rigorous articulation -of the differences inherent in the notion, and does not suffer -these divinities to maintain the abstraction of merely <i>one</i> mode -of determination. And, on the other hand, the universality, in<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_244" id="Page_244">[Pg 244]</a></span> the -elemental medium of which the divine personalities secure their blessed -state, abolishes any hard and fast particularity, and the loftiness of -the eternal powers exalts itself jubilant over the cold seriousness of -finite fact, wherein, if this inconsequence did not prevail, the divine -presences would be evolved through the medium of their limitations.</p> - -<p>However much, therefore, even the principal forces of the world, as the -totality of Nature and Spirit, are reproduced in Greek mythology, this -aggregation, quite as much in the interests of the universal Divine as -in those of the individuality of particular gods, cannot assert itself -as a <i>systematic</i> whole. If this were not so, instead of <i>individual</i> -characters the gods would approximate rather to allegorical beings, -and instead of being <i>divine</i> personalities would be characters wholly -limited to finite and abstract modes.</p> - -<p>(<i>c</i>) When we consequently consider the circle of the Greek -divinities—that is all within the range of the so-called presiding -divinities—more nearly according to their fundamental character, -inquiring how that character appears firmly delineated by sculpture -in its most general and at the same time sensuously concrete -presentment, we find no doubt the essential distinctions and their -totality explicitly set before us, but also in their detail also -ever again obliterated, and the severity of the execution tempered -to a result which is inconsistent with either their beauty or their -individuality. So for example Zeus bears in his hands the dominion -over gods and men, without, however, thereby essentially endangering -the free independence of the other gods. He is the supreme god; his -power, however, does not absorb that of the others. We find in the -conception of him no doubt an association with the heavens, with -lightning and thunder, and the generative vitality of Nature; but he -is yet more truly the might of the State, of the order of fact which -is conformable to law, the binding nexus in contracts, oaths, and -hospitality, and generally the substantial bond that gives subsistence -to the human condition, whether in its practical or ethical aspect, -the potency, in short, both of knowledge and spirit. The dominion of -his brothers is directed toward the sea or the lower world. Apollo is -known as the god of knowledge, as the mouthpiece and fair presentment -of spiritual interests, as the teacher of the<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_245" id="Page_245">[Pg 245]</a></span> Muses. "Know thyself" -is the inscription over his temple at Delphi, a behest which is not -so much concerned with the failings and defects, as the essential -import of spirit, that is with art and the truth of consciousness. -Subtlety and eloquence, mediation in fact generally as we also find -it in subordinate spheres, which, albeit immoral elements are therein -commingled, nevertheless are appurtenant to the complete range of -spiritual life—such is the most important province of the activity -of Hermes, who also leads the shades of the dead to the underworld. -The might of war is what mainly distinguishes Ares. Hephaestos is -conspicuously capable in the technical crafts. The enthusiasm which -still carries with it a natural element, the strong emotions which -wine, sport, and dramatic performances naturally produce are the native -province of Dionysos. The spheres allotted to the feminine divinities -very much correspond to the above series. In Here the ethical bond of -marriage is the most dominant trait. Ceres is the instructress and -developer of agriculture, and as such has presented mankind with both -those adjuncts to its cultivation, that is to say, first, the care for -the nurture of natural products, which satisfy man's immediate wants, -and, secondly, the spiritual accessories of property, marriage, right, -the beginnings of civilization and moral order. In the same way Athene -is the representative of moderation, good sense<a name="FNanchor_194_194" id="FNanchor_194_194"></a><a href="#Footnote_194_194" class="fnanchor">[194]</a>, legality, the -power of wisdom, technical capacity in the arts and courageousness, and -comprises within her intelligent and warlike maidenhood the concrete -spirit of the folk, the free and substantive spirit which uniquely -belongs to the Athenian state, and places the same before us in -positive shape as sovereign and godlike power to be revered. Artemis on -the contrary, wholly distinct from the Ephesian Diana, possesses the -more inflexible independence of maiden modesty for her most essential -characteristic. She loves the chase, and is generally not so much the -quietly pensive, as the severe and eager-striving maiden. Aphrodite, -together with the charming Cupid, who in his descent from the ancient -Titan Eros became a boy, is the interpreter of all that the attractions -and sexual passion effect in our humanity. This, then, is the kind -of content of the spiritually informed individual<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_246" id="Page_246">[Pg 246]</a></span> gods. In so far -as we are concerned with their external representation we can only -repeat that sculpture is the most important art in this respect, and -it is carried to the point of this detail of their particularity. If, -however, it is permitted to express that individuality in its more -specific determination, it at once passes beyond its primary severe -loftiness, although even in that case it unites the variety and wealth -of such individuality under <i>one</i> mode of definition, namely that -which we distinguish as character, and establishes this character in -its more simple clarity for the envisagement of the senses, in other -words for the completest and most final determination of the external -presentment of these divinities. For the imagination always remains -relatively to the external and real existence less distinct, when it -elaborates, as it also does, as poetry the same content in a number -of tales, occurrences, and events which concern the gods. For this -reason sculpture is on the one hand more ideal, while on the other -it individualizes the character of the gods in perfectly clear human -outlines, and perfects the anthropomorphism of the classic Ideal. As -this presentation of the Ideal in its mode of externality, entirely -adequate as it unquestionably is to the essentially ideal content it -declares, these figures of Greek sculpture are the Ideals in their -absolutely explicit realization; they are the self-subsistent, eternal -forms, the centre of the plastic beauty of classical art, whose type -persists as the foundation, even there too, where these figures step -forth on the planes of definite activity, and appear as affected by the -revolutions of particular events.</p> - - -<h6>3. THE PARTICULAR INDIVIDUALITY OF THE GODS</h6> - -<p>Individuality and its representation is, however, unable to acquiesce -in that which is still an ever relative and abstract articulation -of character. A star is exhaustively summarized in the simple laws -that control it. A few definite traits may sufficiently characterize -the external formation of the world of rocks; but already in the -vegetable world we are aware of an infinite variety of manifold -structure, transition, interfusion, and anomaly. Animal organizations -are distinguished by a still greater range of difference,<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_247" id="Page_247">[Pg 247]</a></span> and -constantly shifting interaction with the external environment to which -they are related. And finally, as we rise to the spiritual realm -and its manifestation, we are conscious of a yet more infinitely -embracing multiplicity, both of its internal and external existence. -Inasmuch, then, as the classic Ideal does not rest content with purely -self-possessed individuality, but is further concerned to place the -same in motion, to bring the same into relation with something else, -and to exhibit it as active in such relation—for these reasons the -character of the gods does not rest stationary in the possession -of what itself is an essentially still substantive determination, -but secures further particular traits of wider extension. The -self-exclusive movement in the direction of external existence, and -the change which is inseparable from it supplies the more intimate -traits that constitute the singularity of any particular god, as is -meet and fit and withal necessary to complete a living personality. The -accidental nature of these particular traits is, however, associated -at the same time with such a type of <i>singularity</i>, traits, that is, -we are no longer able to refer back to the universal aspect of the -substantive significance. For this reason this particular aspect of -the separate divinities approximates to something positive, which can -consequently also merely stand about it and continue to resound as an -external accessory.</p> - -<p>(<i>a</i>) We are therefore at once confronted with the question: "From -what source is the <i>material</i> secured for this mode of the appearance -of singularity, and in what manner is this forward process of -particularization maintained?" For the ordinary individual man, for -his character out of which he brings his actions to a conclusion, for -the events in which he is involved, for the destiny which awaits him, -this closest and more positive material is supplied by his external -conditions, such as the date of his birth, the situation he inherits, -parents, education, environment, temporal relations, the entire -province, that is, of the conditions of his life as they affect his -spiritual nature or bodily existence. The present world contains this -material, and the records of life furnished by different individuals -are from this point of view characterized by every conceivable -difference. It is another matter altogether, however, with the free -shapes of<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_248" id="Page_248">[Pg 248]</a></span> godlike individuality, which possess no determinate -existence in the concrete world of Nature, but have their birth in -the cradle of the imagination. For this very reason it is an obvious -assumption that poets and artists, who, speaking in general terms, -have created the Ideal out of their free spiritual bounty, have merely -borrowed the material for these accidental particular traits from the -caprice of their own innate powers of imagination. This assumption is, -however, false. For we assigned in general terms to classical art, the -position that its construction in the first instance is, by means of -the reaction active in its opposition to the assumptions necessarily -requisite to its own peculiar province, carried forward to that which -as genuine Ideal it is. It is from these presuppositions as their -source that the specific traits of particularity are to be looked -for, which supply to the gods their closer individual vitality. The -fundamental features of these assumptions have already been submitted, -and we have only here to remind our readers shortly of what has been -already advanced.</p> - -<p>(<i>α</i>) It is the symbolical natural religions which constitute in the -first instance the abundant source which supplies Greek mythology -with the primary substratum that we find then modified within it. But -inasmuch as the traits that are borrowed from such a source have to be -distributed among gods that are represented as individuals possessing -the life of Spirit, they inevitably lose the essential feature of -their character, in which they passed as symbolical; they have now no -longer to retain a significance, which would differ from that which the -individual himself presents and makes visible. The previous symbolical -content becomes now, therefore, converted into the content of a divine -subject itself, and for the reason that it implies no substantive -relation of the god, but is merely an incidental feature, material of -this sort falls together into an external tale, some deed or event, -which is ascribed to the gods in this or that particular situation. -Consequently we find under this head all the symbolical traditions of -the earlier sacred poems, which receive, under the modified shape of -actions proper to a truly self-conscious individuality, the form of -human events and histories, which purport to be accomplished in concert -with the gods, and are not merely the inventions of<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_249" id="Page_249">[Pg 249]</a></span> poets as the mood -dictates. When Homer tells us, for instance, that the gods went off on -a journey to feast for twelve days among the blameless Ethiopians, such -would be a poor enough example of inventiveness regarded as the poet's -invention alone. It is much the same with the tale of the birth of -Zeus. Kronos, we are told, had devoured all his sons; for this reason -Rhea, his spouse, when she was big with her youngest child Zeus, went -off to Crete, where she brought forth her son, presenting to Kronos a -stone to devour instead of her child, whom she swaddled in fur. Later -on Kronos brought up again all his children, his daughters, and along -with them Poseidon. This story, regarded as mere invention, would be -foolish enough. The remnants of symbolical significance still peer, -however, through it, albeit on account of their having lost their -original character, they come down to us in the guise of external -history. The history of Ceres and Proserpina is on similar lines. -Here we have the ancient symbolic significance of the disappearance -and budding forth of the seed of corn. The myth presents this to us -under the image as though Proserpina played one day in a valley with -flowers, and plucked the fragrant narcissus, which from one root opened -in a hundred blossoms. Then the Earth thunders; Pluto ascends from the -depths, lifts the lamenting maiden into his golden car, and bears her -off to the underworld. Thereon Ceres wandered over the Earth for a -long time vainly stricken with a mother's sorrow. Finally Proserpina -returned to the upper world; Zeus, however, had only suffered her to do -this subject to the command that she must never partake of the food of -the gods. Unfortunately she had on one occasion tasted a pomegranate, -and was therefore only able to remain in the upper world during spring -and summer. In this tale, too, we find that the symbolical content has -not been retained, but has been converted into a human event, which -suffers only the more general sense to penetrate through many external -traits. In the same way the supplementary names of the gods point -frequently to symbolical ground-strata of a similar character, from -which, however, the symbolical form has vanished, and which only serve -now to give individuality a more complete characterization.</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_250" id="Page_250">[Pg 250]</a></span></p> - -<p>(<i>β</i>) Local conditions supply a further source for the positive -particularities of individual divinities, no less by presenting us with -the origin of the conceptions of godhead, than by pointing to the modes -under which their services were originally obtained and secured, and -the particular places which were in a special sense devoted to their -worship.</p> - -<p>(<i>αα</i>) Although, however, the demonstration of the Ideal and its -universal beauty is exalted over the particular locality and its -unique claims for recognition, and, moreover, has drawn together the -specific external aspects in the more general range of the artistic -imagination into one comprehensive picture which is throughout adequate -to the substantive significance, yet for all that, when the art of -sculpture associates the gods, regarded as individuals, with isolated -relations and conditions, these particular traits and local colours -come frequently also to the fore, in order to reproduce something -of that individuality, although it is only thus more defined in -its external aspect. An illustration of this is the way Pausanias -adduces a mass of ideas, images, pictures, and myths, which he met -with in temples, public places, temple treasuries, in any place where -anything of importance was to be found or otherwise was in the range -of his experience. In the same way and on the same lines the ancient -traditions and local suggestions which have been borrowed from foreign -sources run along with the home ones in Greek myth; and to all of -them more or less a relation has been attached which unites them to -the history, creation, and foundations of States, more particularly -by means of colonization. Forasmuch, however, as this many-sided -and specific material in the universality of the gods has lost its -original significance, we necessarily come across stories, which -in their motley and intricate character fail to convey any meaning -whatever. As an example we may instance the case where Aeschylus in -his "Prometheus" presents to us the wanderings of Io in all their -severity and external garb without admitting the least suggestion of an -ethical or traditional story, or a natural significance. We find just -the same difficulty when we approach the stories of Perseus, Dionysos, -and others. The most varied and confused kind of material is also run<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_251" id="Page_251">[Pg 251]</a></span> -into the tales about Hercules, which forthwith, in such tales, assume -an entirely human aspect under the guise of chance events, exploits, -passions, misfortunes, and other untoward occurrences.</p> - -<p>(<i>ββ</i>) In addition to all this the eternal powers of classical art -are the universal constituents of the actual embodiment of the -existence and actions of Greek <i>humanity</i>, from whose national origins -consequently in their earliest form, that is, out of the heroic times -and other traditions, still a very considerable residue of detail -remains appendant to the gods even in later days. In this way, too, -many characteristic features in the intricate tales of their gods -unquestionably must be referred to historic personages, heroes, older -folk-races, natural facts and circumstances attributable to wars, -battles, and other matters of a public character. And just as the -family and the distinction of clans is the point of departure of the -State, the Greeks possessed also their family gods, penates, clan-gods, -and furthermore the guardian divinities of particular cities and -states. In this excessive leaning towards the point of view of history -the thesis, however, is apt to be maintained that the origin of the -Greek gods generally is deducible from such historical facts, heroes, -and earlier kings. This is a plausible but none the less superficial -view. Heyne quite in recent times has also given currency to it. In -a way analogous to this a Frenchman, by name Nicholas Fréret, has, -for example, accepted the quarrels of different priestly guilds as -the general principle underlying the war of the gods. That such a -historical phase in the life of a people may contribute something, -that definite clans may have given some effect to their peculiar -notions of deity, that likewise different local aspects may have -afforded further matter in the process of divine individualization—all -this may be admitted, no doubt. The real origin of the gods is for -all that not to be traced to such external material of history, but -resides in the spiritual potencies of Life, under the guise of which -they were conceived. We are consequently only entitled to accept the -more extensive play of all that is positive, local, and historical, -in so far as it makes more definite the formal presentation of each -particular individuality.</p> - -<p>(<i>γγ</i>) Inasmuch as, further, the god passes into the sphere<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_252" id="Page_252">[Pg 252]</a></span> of the -human imagination, and, still more important, is represented in real -bodily shape, into close relations with which again man is placed by -his <i>cultus</i> in the activities of divine worship, a fresh material is -here, too, presented by such relations for the extension of all that -is positive and accidental. What animals have to be sacrificed to any -god, what vestments the priesthood or the worshipper must appear in, -what particular sequence must be adopted in any ceremonial—by all such -matters the most varied and particular incidents are accumulated. For -every activity of this kind implies an indefinite number of aspects and -modes of arrangement, which may accidentally fall out in this way or -that, but which, as appurtenant to a sacred rite, should be something -settled, and not fixed by caprice, and which necessarily tend to -pass into the sphere of symbolism. The colour of the vestments is an -example of this; in the ritual of Bacchus we have the colour of wine, -in like manner the doe-skin in which those initiated in the mysteries -were enwrapped. The same thing applies to the drapery and attributes -of the gods, the bow of Pythian Apollo, the whip, the staff, and -numberless other accessories. Such things become, however, gradually -a custom and nothing more; no one in the practice of the same thinks -any longer of their birth history; and all that we now by dint of -our research point out as their significance, has in the performance -of them grown to something quite external, which mankind associates -himself with on account of the immediate interest, that is, from mere -sense of fun, delight in the present, devotion, or simply because it -is just a custom and is so fixed for his active senses, and is done -in like manner by others. As an example from our own life, when we -see our German youth light the Johannis fire in summer time, or play -antics elsewhere, and throw it at the windows, such is for us a purely -formal custom, in which the original significance fades as much into -the background as at the festal dances of Greek youths and maidens -the revolutions of the dance do in their imitative (like the twists -and turns of some labyrinth) significance of the spiral motions of -the planets. Youth does not dance in order to entertain ideas of such -things, but the interest limits itself naturally to the dancing and the -tasteful and graceful festivity of its beautiful motion.<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_253" id="Page_253">[Pg 253]</a></span> The entire -significance, which was created by the original stimulus, and of which -the reproduction was for the imagination and sensuous perception of -symbolical character, is throughout an imaginative conception, whose -singular traits we suffer to pass from us like a fairy story, or as in -historical narrative as external detail relative to Time and Space, -and of which we can only say: "It is so," or, "Such is the tale," and -so forth. The interest of art can consequently only consist in this, -namely, that it borrow one aspect from the material which has passed -into the condition of positive externality, and make the best of -this one for an example, which sets the gods before us as concrete, -living individuals, merely retaining a distant echo of any profounder -significance.</p> - -<p>This positive aspect is precisely that which endows the Greek gods -with the charm of living humanity when the imagination elaborates it -anew. It is by this latter process that what is otherwise merely of -substantive import, or that of power, is thereby carried into the -individual present, which, speaking in general terms, is concentrated -to a point out of that which is truly explicit or independently actual, -and which is external and accidental, and thereby the indefinite, -which otherwise is always present in the conception of the gods, is -limited in its range and filled out in its content. We are unable to -attach any additional value to specific tales and particular traits -of characterization, for this material, which, in its earlier stage -is, when we look at its primary source, the symbolically significant, -has now only remaining the task to perfect the spiritual individuality -of the gods in their positive sensuous definition in contrast to the -human and to attach to it by virtue of a material which, in respect -to its content and envisagement, is undivine, the aspect of caprice -and chance, characteristics inseparable from concrete individuality. -Sculpture, in so far as it presents to our senses the pure ideals of -the gods, and is concerned to set before us character and expression -solely under the mode of living bodies, can least of all with -clearness make visible the final result of individualization. It does -nevertheless give real effect to it within the limits of its own -province, as we may see, for example, in the different treatment of -headdress, the mode in which the folds<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_254" id="Page_254">[Pg 254]</a></span> or locks of hair are arranged -in each particular case; and this is done not merely with a view to -symbolical interpretation but in order to individualize. In this way -Hercules has short locks, Zeus an abundant growth which rises above the -forehead, Diana quite a different folding of the hair to that of Venus. -Pallas, too, is distinguished by the Gorgo on the helmet, and the like -result is obtained by means of weapons, girdle, fillets, bracelets, and -all the variety of other external adornment.</p> - -<p>(<i>γ</i>) We find as a <i>third</i> and final source of the closer definition -of divine personality the relation which this occupies to the -concrete actual world and its numerous natural phenomena, human -deeds and events. For however much we have seen that this spiritual -individuality is in part respectively to their universal essence, and -partly in respect to their particular singularity, the visible result -of earlier natural foundations which have symbolical significance, -yet it also persists, if regarded as a spiritually self-subsistent -personality, in a relation of continuous, vitality with Nature and -human existence. It is under this point of view, as we have already -intimated at length, that we have before us the imaginative flow -of the poet, an ever fertile source of particular tales, traits of -character and exploits, such as are related us about the gods. The -artistic aspect of this stage of the process consists in this, that -the divine personalities are made to blend in a vital way with human -affairs, and that the isolated nature of events are without exception -conceived in association with the universality of the divine, just -as we ourselves, for example, are wont to say, if in another sense, -of course, that this or that eventuality comes from God. Even in the -reality of everyday life, in the natural process of his existence, in -his daily wants, fears, and hopes, the Greek took refuge in his gods. -At first it was external accidents, which the priesthood accepted as -omens, and interpreted relatively to his objects and circumstances. If -distress and misfortune appeared, the priest had to explain the cause -of the affliction, to recognize the anger and disposition of the gods, -and to suggest the means by which the misfortune might be faced. The -poets proceed yet further in their interpretations for this reason, -namely, that they ascribe everything, which is related to a pathos -universal<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_255" id="Page_255">[Pg 255]</a></span> and essential, that is, the moving force in human resolve -and action, to the gods themselves and their activity; so that the -activity of mankind appears likewise as the act of the gods, who fulfil -their own counsels by means of their instrument, man. The material in -these poetical expositions is taken from the circumstances of ordinary -life, in respect to which the poet lays it down, whether this or that -god has expressed his purpose in the event which he is expounding -and asserted himself actively therein. For this reason poetry to -an exceptional extent enlarges the range of many specific stories, -which have the gods for their principal subject-matter. We may in -this connection recall to our memories several examples which we have -already used as illustrations when considering another aspect of our -subject, namely, the relation of the universal powers to the practical -pursuits of human personality. Homer places Achilles before us as the -bravest among the Greeks before Troy. This pre-eminence of his hero he -expresses by means of the statement that Achilles is invulnerable in -every portion of his body with the single exception of his heel, which -his mother was compelled to take hold of when she dipped him in the -Styx. This tale has its origin in the imagination of the poet who thus -interprets the external fact. If we accept this bluntly as though an -actual fact purported to be expressed therein which the ancients would -have believed in the same sense that we believe in any fact on the -evidence of our senses such a conclusion is a very crude one indeed. -It in short amounts to this, that Homer no less than all the Greeks -and Alexander with them who admired Achilles and praised his fortunes, -which were the main theme of the song of Homer, were simpletons. -Such a glorification must inevitably carry such a consequence if -the reflection is to hold good that the bravery of Achilles was no -difficult matter since he was aware of his invulnerability. But the -bravery is, in truth, thereby in no way abridged, because he is equally -aware of his early death, and notwithstanding never evades danger, -however it may arise. The like relation is put before us in a very -different way in the "Niebelungenlied." In that the horned Siegfried -is likewise invulnerable, but he has also in addition to this his cap -which makes him invisible. When he assists King Gunther thus invisible -in the fight of the<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_256" id="Page_256">[Pg 256]</a></span> latter with Brunhilde it becomes simply an affair -of barbaric sorcery which does not enhance very much our opinion either -of the bravery of Siegfried or King Gunther. No doubt in Homer the gods -frequently lend assistance to particular heroes; but the gods merely -appear on such occasions as the universal concept of that which man -as an individual himself is and carries out, and to carry out which -he must actively employ the entire strength of his heroic endowment. -If it had been otherwise the gods would have only found it necessary -to decimate <i>en masse</i> the Trojan host in battle in order to complete -at once the triumph of the Greeks. Homer gives us a picture just the -reverse of this when he describes the main fight as essentially a -contest between individuals, and it is only when the press and medley -in general, when the entire mass of combatants, the collective heart -of the host clashes in fury, that Ares at length storms over the field -and gods war against gods. And this is not only generally fine and -splendid as an enhancement of the effect, but we may find in it the -profounder significance that Homer recognizes the particular heroes in -what is singular and exceptional and the universal potencies and forces -in the collective effect and the general aspect. In another connection -Homer permits Apollo to appear on the scene, when the moment arrives -which is fatal to Patroclus who is bearing the invincible armour of -Achilles<a name="FNanchor_195_195" id="FNanchor_195_195"></a><a href="#Footnote_195_195" class="fnanchor">[195]</a>. Three times had Patroclus plunged into the crowded host -of the Trojans, mighty as Ares, and three times he had already slain -nine men. When he stormed there for the fourth time then it was that -the god, enveloped in obscure night, made toward him among the medley -and smote him on the back and the shoulders, tore away from him his -helmet, so that it rolled on the ground, and rang out sharply as it -struck the hoofs of the chargers; and the plumes of it were besmirched -with blood and dust, which none ever wot of before. Apollo also breaks -the brazen spear in his hands, the shield drops from his shoulders, and -his armour is loosened on him by the god. This interference of Apollo -we may accept as the poetic explanation of the circumstance, that it -is exhaustion no less than natural death which seizes upon and subdues -Patroclus in the turmoil and heat of battle at the fourth encounter.<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_257" id="Page_257">[Pg 257]</a></span> -Then it was that Euphorbus was able to thrust his spear into his -back between the shoulders. Yet one more time Patroclus endeavoured -to withdraw from the battle; but Hector had already hastened to meet -him, and thrust his spear deep into his side. Then Hector rejoiced and -mocked the sinking hero. But Patroclus, speaking in low tones, replied -that it was Zeus and Apollo who had mastered him, and withal with no -trouble, because they had taken his weapons from off his shoulders. -"Twenty men such as thou art," he exclaims, "I could have laid low with -my spear, but I am slain by fateful necessity and the hand of Apollo. -Thou, Euphorbus, hast but slain me the second time, and thou, Hector, -but the third." Here, too, we may remark that the appearance of the -gods simply points to the fact that Patroclus, albeit protected by -the armour of Achilles, becomes faint, confounded, and despite of it -slain. And this is not by any means a superstitious freak or empty play -of the imagination, or rather a statement which amounts to this<a name="FNanchor_196_196" id="FNanchor_196_196"></a><a href="#Footnote_196_196" class="fnanchor">[196]</a>, -that Hector's fame will be detracted from by this interposition of -Apollo, and that even Apollo does not play in the entire affair a -part which entirely redounds to his honour, since we necessarily take -into account the might of the god—speculations of this kind merely -betray a superstition of the prosaic mind as destitute of taste as it -is devoid of reason. For in every case where Homer explains specific -events by means of such appearances of the gods the gods use that -which is already immanent in the conscious life of men, the power, -that is, of their own passion and observation, or the potentialities -of the general condition in which the man is placed, the force and the -foundation of that which befalls and happens to anyone as a consequence -of such conditions If it is true that at times traits that are wholly -external and absolutely positive assert themselves in the appearance -of the gods these in their turn have a comic aspect; as in the case -when the lame Hephaestos goes round as cup-bearer. And generally we may -say that Homer never treats the reality of such appearances from first -to last seriously. At one time we see the gods in action, at another<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_258" id="Page_258">[Pg 258]</a></span> -they occupy a station of complete tranquillity. The Greeks were -fully conscious that it was the poets who were responsible for such -apparitions; and if they believed in them their belief was connected -directly with that spiritual aspect which is equally the possession -of mankind, forasmuch as it is the universal, the very active and -motive principle in the events thus presented. From whatever point of -view, therefore, we consider the matter it is clear that it is totally -unnecessary to import superstition either in our own views or in those -of the Greeks before we can enjoy such poetical representations of -their gods.</p> - -<p>(<i>b</i>) Such, then, is the general character of the classical Ideal, -whose broader development we shall have to consider more succinctly -when we examine the particular arts. Here we have only to add the -observation that to whatever extent either gods or men are carried -in their positive opposition to the particular and external, yet in -classical art the affirmative ethical substratum must assert itself -as maintained. The subjectivity remains throughout in union with the -substantive content of its powers. Just as in Greek art the natural -element is preserved in harmony with the spiritual and is likewise -subordinated to the ideal content, though it be as adequate existence, -the inward heart of our humanity ever presents itself also in a -thorough identity with the genuine objectivity of Spirit, in other -words, with the essential content of what is moral and true. Regarded -from this point of view, the classic Ideal is unaware of the separation -of ideality from external presentment and of the rending of the -subjective and consequently abstract individual caprice in its various -objects and passions, and it is no less so, on the other hand, of the -abstract universal as thereby created. The foundations of character -must, consequently, always be the substantive, and what is bad, sinful -and evil in the self-housed dwelling of subjectivity is excluded -from classical representations. And above all else the harshness, -wickedness, meanness, and hideousness which finds a place in romantic -art, will be wholly alien to it. It is true, we find many instances -of transgression, matricide, patricide and other crimes against the -love of family and piety treated as the subject-matter of Greek art; -but they are not here regarded simply as atrocities, or, as a little -while since it<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_259" id="Page_259">[Pg 259]</a></span> was the fashion among ourselves, as brought about by -the inscrutability of a so-called fatality which imports the appearance -of a necessary result. Rather, if such transgressions are committed -by mankind and in part ordered and defended by the gods themselves, -such actions are on every occasion presented to us from some point of -view at least in a light which declares a certain justification truly -arising out of the subject-matter itself.</p> - -<p>(<i>c</i>) Despite this substantive foundation we have seen the general -elaboration of the gods of classical art manifest itself out of the -repose of the Ideal within the variety of the individual and external -embodiment, in all the detail of events, occurrences, and actions, -which become ever and ever more human. By this means classical art -finally, if we consider its content, carries yet further the process -of <i>articulating</i> the accidental individualization, when we consider -it as a mode of making the same <i>pleasurable</i> and attractive. In other -words that which pleases is the elaboration of the particular aspect of -the external phenomenon at every point of the same; by this means the -work of art no longer arrests the spectator merely in its connection -with his own concrete soul-life, but also contains many affiliating -links with the finite aspect of his subjectivity. For it is precisely -in the finiteness of the art-creation that the closer association -subsists with that aspect of the individual which is itself finite, and -which rediscovers itself once more with satisfaction in every respect -as mobile and stable existence in the art-product. The seriousness of -the gods becomes a grace, which does not agitate with violence or lift -a man over his ordinary existence, but suffers him to persist there -tranquil, and simply claims to bring him content. Just as we generally -find that the imagination when it masters religious conceptions, and -endows them with a form appropriate to its notions of beauty, has a -tendency to make the earnest character of devotion disappear, and in -this respect destroys religion strictly as religion; so, too, this very -process moves forward at the stage we are discussing for the most part -by the addition of that which is agreeable and pleases. For it is not -by any means the substantial aspect, the significance of the gods, or -their universal character, which is evolved by virtue of what delights. -Rather it is<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_260" id="Page_260">[Pg 260]</a></span> the finite side, their sensuous existence and subjective -inward life, which purports to awake interest and provide satisfaction. -The more, therefore, the charm of the existence reproduced is the -dominant factor in its beauty to that extent the gracefulness is -disentwined from the embrace of the universal and removed from the -content, through which alone the profounder penetration could rest -satisfied.</p> - -<p>The transition to another province of the forms of art is closely -united with this externality and articulate definition. For under the -mode of externality reposes the manifold of the finite condition; a -manifold which, so soon as it secures a free field, asserts itself -finally in opposition to the spiritual Idea, its universality and -truth, and begins to rouse up the dissatisfaction of thought in a -reality which is no longer adequate to express it.</p> -<hr class="r5" /> -<div class="footnote"> - -<p><a name="Footnote_180_180" id="Footnote_180_180"></a><a href="#FNanchor_180_180"><span class="label">[180]</span></a> Chapter XLIX.</p></div> - -<div class="footnote"> - -<p><a name="Footnote_181_181" id="Footnote_181_181"></a><a href="#FNanchor_181_181"><span class="label">[181]</span></a> I presume this is the sense of that difficult word <i>des -Inneren</i> here.</p></div> - -<div class="footnote"> - -<p><a name="Footnote_182_182" id="Footnote_182_182"></a><a href="#FNanchor_182_182"><span class="label">[182]</span></a> By "absolute" I presume Hegel means here absolute in -the sense of predominant, masterful—activity such as the Greek artist -possessed.</p></div> - -<div class="footnote"> - -<p><a name="Footnote_183_183" id="Footnote_183_183"></a><a href="#FNanchor_183_183"><span class="label">[183]</span></a> "Iliad," I, vv. 9-12.</p></div> - -<div class="footnote"> - -<p><a name="Footnote_184_184" id="Footnote_184_184"></a><a href="#FNanchor_184_184"><span class="label">[184]</span></a> <i>Ibid.</i> vv. 94-100.</p></div> - -<div class="footnote"> - -<p><a name="Footnote_185_185" id="Footnote_185_185"></a><a href="#FNanchor_185_185"><span class="label">[185]</span></a> "Odyssey," XXIV, vv. 41-63.</p></div> - -<div class="footnote"> - -<p><a name="Footnote_186_186" id="Footnote_186_186"></a><a href="#FNanchor_186_186"><span class="label">[186]</span></a> That is, Thetis.</p></div> - -<div class="footnote"> - -<p><a name="Footnote_187_187" id="Footnote_187_187"></a><a href="#FNanchor_187_187"><span class="label">[187]</span></a> <i>Bestimmte sittliche Substanz.</i></p></div> - -<div class="footnote"> - -<p><a name="Footnote_188_188" id="Footnote_188_188"></a><a href="#FNanchor_188_188"><span class="label">[188]</span></a> <i>Das reine Insichseyn.</i></p></div> - -<div class="footnote"> - -<p><a name="Footnote_189_189" id="Footnote_189_189"></a><a href="#FNanchor_189_189"><span class="label">[189]</span></a> <i>Ein ewiger Ernst.</i></p></div> - -<div class="footnote"> - -<p><a name="Footnote_190_190" id="Footnote_190_190"></a><a href="#FNanchor_190_190"><span class="label">[190]</span></a> I presume this refers to some drapery or curtains round -the bust as exhibited.</p></div> - -<div class="footnote"> - -<p><a name="Footnote_191_191" id="Footnote_191_191"></a><a href="#FNanchor_191_191"><span class="label">[191]</span></a> This is the meaning of <i>Heiterkeit</i> here rather than -"cheerfulness," though <i>Seligkeit</i> is the usual word.</p></div> - -<div class="footnote"> - -<p><a name="Footnote_192_192" id="Footnote_192_192"></a><a href="#FNanchor_192_192"><span class="label">[192]</span></a> <i>Göttliche Universum.</i> A rather curious expression for, -I presume, the ideal totality of the Divine Being.</p></div> - -<div class="footnote"> - -<p><a name="Footnote_193_193" id="Footnote_193_193"></a><a href="#FNanchor_193_193"><span class="label">[193]</span></a> <i>Der geistigen absoluten Innerlichkeit.</i> Lit., "the -spiritual and absolute mode of the inward life." He refers, of course, -to Christianity, with its life of the pure in heart and the pure -reason.</p></div> - -<div class="footnote"> - -<p><a name="Footnote_194_194" id="Footnote_194_194"></a><a href="#FNanchor_194_194"><span class="label">[194]</span></a> <i>Besonnenheit.</i></p></div> - -<div class="footnote"> - -<p><a name="Footnote_195_195" id="Footnote_195_195"></a><a href="#FNanchor_195_195"><span class="label">[195]</span></a> "Iliad," XVI, vv. 783-849.</p></div> - -<div class="footnote"> - -<p><a name="Footnote_196_196" id="Footnote_196_196"></a><a href="#FNanchor_196_196"><span class="label">[196]</span></a> I very much doubt whether the words <i>Sondern das Gerede -allein</i> can have this meaning, but the obvious meaning, "but only the -gossip," hardly makes sense. I think the sentence requires revision.</p> - -<hr class="chap" /> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_261" id="Page_261">[Pg 261]</a></span></p></div> - - - - -<h5>CHAPTER III</h5> - -<h4>THE DISSOLUTION OF THE CLASSICAL TYPE OF ART</h4> - -<p>The gods of classical art contain in themselves the germ of their -overthrow; consequently, when this fatal defect which they include is -brought to consciousness through the elaboration of art itself, they -bring about the dissolution of the classical Ideal at the same time. -We established as the principle of this, so far as we have here to -deal with it, that kind of spiritual individuality which secures in -every respect an adequate expression in bodily or external existence -immediate to our senses. This individuality was enclosed within a -complex of divine personalities, whose definition is not essentially -and withal from the first given up to the contingent condition in which -the everlasting gods receive the appearance of dissolution for man's -conscious life no less than for his artistic creation.</p> - -<h6>1. FATE OR DESTINY</h6> - -<p>It is true that sculpture in its complete plastic perfection accepts -the gods as substantive potencies, and endows them with a form in whose -beauty they in the first instance repose in security, for the reason -that the accidental character, of their external envisagement is to -the least extent emphasized. Their <i>multiplicity</i> and <i>distinction</i> -does in fact, however, constitute this element of contingency, and -thought annuls this in the determinate conception of <i>one</i> divinity, -through whose inevitable power they are mutually at war with and to -the detriment of each other. For however universal the power of every -particular god is conceived as specific individuality, such is of a -restricted range. Add to<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_262" id="Page_262">[Pg 262]</a></span> this the fact that the gods do not continue -in their eternal repose; they are self-determined relatively to -particular aims in actual movement through their being drawn hither -and thither by the pre-existing conditions and collisions of concrete -reality, in order at one time to afford assistance and at another -to obstruct or destroy. These isolated relations in which the gods -as active individuals participate contain within them an element of -contingency, which impairs the substantive nature of the divine, -however much the same may persist as the predominant substratum, and -involves the gods in the contradictions and conflicts of a limited -finitude. By reason of this finiteness immanent in the gods themselves -they fall into contradiction with the loftiness, worth, and beauty of -their existence, through which, too, they are eventually brought down -to the level of mere caprice and chance. The genuine Ideal evades the -complete appearance of this contradiction simply and in so far as—this -is preeminently the case in true sculpture and its particular creations -as we find them in temples—the divine personalities are represented as -explicitly alone in the repose of blessedness, yet retain, as we have -already above indicated, a certain aspect of lifelessness, somewhat -aloof from all emotion, and withal that quiet characteristic of -pathetic lament. It is just this mournfulness which exposes their fate -by demonstrating that something of higher import stands above them, and -the passage from the particularities of form to their comprehending -unity is a necessary one. If, however, we fix our attention on the type -and configuration of this loftier unity we shall find that it is, as -contrasted with the individuality and relative determination of the -gods, the essentially abstract and formless—the necessity, the fate, -which under this mode of abstraction the higher can only in general -terms be, and which constrains both gods and men, while remaining in -itself incomprehensible and inconceivable. Fate is not as yet absolute -and self-subsistent end, and thereby at the same time subjective, -personal, divine purpose, but merely the one and universal Power which -transcends the particularity of the different gods, and consequently is -unable to be presented itself as individual entity; because otherwise -it would simply appear as one among many individuals, and would stand -above them. For this reason it<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_263" id="Page_263">[Pg 263]</a></span> remains without form and individuality, -and is in this abstraction merely necessity and nothing more; with -which gods no less than men, when they differentiate themselves as -separate from one another, contend. And thus they give effect to their -individual power condemned though it be to limitations, and would fain -exalt themselves over the bounds and warrant of Fate, though they -are, in fact, its subjects, and are forced to hearken to all that -unalterably befalls them.</p> - - -<h6>2. THE DISSOLUTION OF THE GODS THROUGH THEIR ANTHROPOMORPHISM</h6> - -<p>For the reason, then, that the principle of self-determinate -Necessity<a name="FNanchor_197_197" id="FNanchor_197_197"></a><a href="#Footnote_197_197" class="fnanchor">[197]</a> does not appertain to the particular gods, does not -supply in other words the content of their self-determination, and -only floats over them as an undefined abstraction, the aspect of their -insularity as individuals has consequently free play and is unable to -escape from Destiny, is moreover at liberty to branch out into the -external fabric of the human condition, into the finite consistency of -anthropomorphism, possibilities which convert the gods into the reverse -of that condition which truly constitutes the notion of what they are -essentially and in virtue of their divine nature. The overthrow of -these gods of beauty is consequently quite inevitably brought about for -art through their own nature. The human consciousness is at last quite -unable to find repose in them, and is fain compelled to take leave of -them. And, moreover, if we look more closely we shall find that the -mode and type of Greek anthropomorphism supplies us with a general -example of how the gods vanish away from the faiths of religion no less -than those of poetry.</p> - -<p>(<i>a</i>) Spiritual individuality here makes its appearance in the human -form, it is true, as Ideal; but for all that it is in the immediately -visible, that is, the bodily presence, not within humanity in all its -essential explication, under the mode in which it is conscious of -itself in its own self-conscious world as distinct from God, while in -the same breath it annuls the distinction, and is, by its own act, as -one with God, essentially infinite and absolute self-consciousness.</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_264" id="Page_264">[Pg 264]</a></span></p> - -<p>(<i>α</i>) For this reason the plastic Ideal is unable to present itself -as infinite self-conscious spirituality. These plastic shapes of -beauty are not merely stone and bronze, but also the infinite form of -subjective life vanishes from them in their content and expression. -We may become as enthusiastic as we please over their beauty and art, -but for all that our <i>enthusiasm</i> is and remains something native -to our own souls; it is not really at home in the objects which it -thus contemplates, that is in the gods themselves. To complete the -true totality a real reciprocity is required on this side also of the -subjective, self-knowing unity and infinity; it is this, and only this, -that unfolds our conception of a living God of knowledge, and of men -who thus apprehend Him. If this totality is not also essentially and -with adequacy conformable to the content and nature of the Absolute, -then the Absolute will itself appear not as truly a subject of -spiritual being, and its presentment will confront us merely in its -objective form without the possession of self-conscious Spirit. It is -quite true, no doubt, that the individuality of the gods retains the -content of subjectivity, but merely under modes that are contingent, -and in a process of development,' which moves independently outside -that substantive repose and blessedness of the gods.</p> - -<p>(<i>β</i>) On the other hand, the subjectivity which is opposed to the -gods of plastic art is also not the form of conscious life which is -essentially eternal and true. In other words, this latter is—as we -shall see for ourselves more clearly in our consideration of the third -type of art, the romantic—that which has before it the objectivity to -which it is conformable under the mode of an essentially infinite and -self-knowing God. Inasmuch, however, as the knowing subject, at the -stage we are now discussing, does not consciously conceive itself as -present in the perfections of these godlike figures, nor even in its -contemplation of such objects is aware of itself as circumstantially -objective, it is still wholly distinct and separate from its absolute -object, and is consequently a purely contingent and finite subjectivity.</p> - -<p>(<i>γ</i>) We might possibly suppose that the passage into a higher sphere -of reality would have been emphasized by the imagination and art as a -further war among the gods, in a way analogous, in fact, to the first -transition from the symbolism<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_265" id="Page_265">[Pg 265]</a></span> of the gods of Nature to the spiritual -Ideals of classical art. This is by no means the case. On the contrary, -this translation is carried forward in a wholly different field, as a -conflict brought home to consciousness between absolute reality and -the present world. For this reason art, in its relation to the higher -content, which it has to seize under new modes, occupies an entirely -altered position. This new configuration does not assert its importance -as revelation by means of Art, but is made manifest independently -without it, and appears on the prosaic ground of controversial and -rational discussion, and from thence is within the soul and its -religious emotions, mainly by means of miracle, martyrdoms, and so -on, carried into the world of subjective knowledge, together with a -consciousness of the contradiction between all that is finite and -the Absolute, which unfolds itself in actual history as the process -of events toward a Present which is not merely imagined, but is the -<i>fact</i> we have before us. The Divine, God Himself, becomes flesh, is -born, lives, suffers, dies, and rises from the dead. This is a content -which heart did not discover, but which, quite apart from it, was a -present fact, and which consequently it has not borrowed from its own -domain, but merely supplies a form to it. That old transition and war -of the gods, on the contrary, discovered its origins in the artistic -or imaginative view of the world simply, which created its wisdom and -plastic shapes from its inner life, and gave to astonished mankind his -new gods. For this reason the classic gods also have only received -their existence through the fiat of the imagination, and merely exist -as such in stone and bronze, or in the world open to the senses, -not, however, in flesh and blood, or in very and actual Spirit. The -anthropomorphism of the Greek gods is therefore without real human -existence, that of body no less than that of Spirit. It is Christianity -which first introduces us to this reality in flesh and blood as the -determinate existence, life, and activity of God Himself. Consequently -this bodily form, this flesh, however much also the purely natural and -sensuous is recognized as a negation therein, receives its due and -honour, and that which partakes of anthropomorphism here is sanctified. -Even as man originally was made in the image of God, God is an<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_266" id="Page_266">[Pg 266]</a></span> image -of man; whoso beholdeth the Son beholdeth the Father, and whoso loveth -the Son loveth the Father. In a word, God is acknowledged as present -in the actual world. This new content, then, is not brought home to -consciousness by means of the conceptions of art, but is presented from -an exterior source as an actual occurrence, as the history of the God -who became flesh. A transition such as this could not take its point of -departure from Art; the contrast between the old and the new would have -been too disparate. The God of revealed religion, in respect to content -and form, is very God in truth, in contrast with whom all rivals would -become mere creations of the imagination, whom it would be quite -impossible to compare with Him on equal terms. The old and new gods of -classical art, on the contrary, originate in both cases independently -from the ground of the imagination. They have only such reality from -the finite Spirit as enables them to be conceived and represented as -potencies of Nature and Spirit; the contradiction and conflict they -declare, is taken seriously. If, however, the transition from the Greek -gods to the God of Christendom were portrayed in the first instance by -Art, the representation of such a war of gods could not in this direct -form be enforced in all seriousness.</p> - -<p>(<i>b</i>) Consequently this strife and transition becomes also, in more -recent times, primarily an accidental, isolated subject-matter of art, -which can claim to create no true epoch, and has been able in this form -to embody no fundamental phase in the line of the entire development -of art. We will recall here in this connection, if incidentally, a -few of the more famous examples of this nature. We frequently hear -in more recent times the lament over the submergence of Greek art, -and a yearning towards Greek gods and heroes is not infrequently the -theme of our poets<a name="FNanchor_198_198" id="FNanchor_198_198"></a><a href="#Footnote_198_198" class="fnanchor">[198]</a>. This lamentation is expressed emphatically -as in direct opposition to Christendom; and though it is, no doubt, -generally granted that it contains the higher truth, the qualification -is added that, so far as art is concerned, the transition is only -to be regretted. This is the theme of Schiller's "Gods of<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_267" id="Page_267">[Pg 267]</a></span> Greece"; -and it is worth our while, even in the present inquiry, to consider -this poem, not merely as poetry in the beauty of its exposition, its -musical rhythm, its vivid pictures, or in the charm of its regretful -mood, which was the motive force in its creation, but also in order to -examine the content. Schiller's pathos is always true, no less than -poignant, and the result of profound reflection.</p> - -<p>It is perfectly true that the Christian religion contains, and may -justly claim to accentuate, a certain phase of art; but in the due -course of its development, at the time of the Aufklärung<a name="FNanchor_199_199" id="FNanchor_199_199"></a><a href="#Footnote_199_199" class="fnanchor">[199]</a>, it -has also reached a point where we find that thought, or rather the -Understanding<a name="FNanchor_200_200" id="FNanchor_200_200"></a><a href="#Footnote_200_200" class="fnanchor">[200]</a>, has driven into the background that element, -which art pre-eminently requires, the actual human envisagement and -revelation of God. For the human form and all that it expresses and -declares, human events, actions, feeling, is the form under which art -is forced to conceive and represent the content of Spirit. Inasmuch as -the Understanding has converted God into a mere fact of thought, no -longer crediting the appearance of His Spirit in concrete reality, and -thus has alienated the God of Thought from all actual existence, this -type of religious Illumination has necessarily accepted conceptions -and requirements which are intolerable to Art. When, however, the -Understanding is raised once more from the region of these abstractions -into that of Reason, the need at once asserts itself for something -more concrete, and withal for that kind of concreteness which Art -itself unfolds. The period of the illuminating Understanding has, no -doubt, possessed an art of its own, but only of very prosaic type, -as we may even find it in Schiller, whose point of departure was -precisely that of such a period of criticism; later on, however, -owing to his realization how little reason, imagination, and passion -were satisfied by the critical Understanding, he experienced a deep -longing for art, in the fullest sense of the term, and primarily for -the classical art of the Greeks and their gods, and general views of -the world. It is from this kind of yearning, a reaction, in short, -from the mere abstractions of the mind, that the poem referred to<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_268" id="Page_268">[Pg 268]</a></span> -originated. According to the original draft of the poem, Schiller's -attitude to Christianity is entirely polemical; afterwards he modified -it considerably, no doubt realizing that its <i>animus</i> was only directed -against the critical aspect of the Illumination, which at a later time -itself began to lose its importance. In the first instance he praises -the Greek point of view as fortunate in that the whole of Nature was a -thing of Life to it, and full of divinities. After that he reviews the -Present and its prosaic conception of natural law, and the position man -here takes relatively to God:</p> - -<p> -<span style="margin-left: 9em;">Diese traur'ge Stille</span><br /> -<span style="margin-left: 2.5em;">Kündigt sie mir meinen Schöpfer an?</span><br /> -<span style="margin-left: 2.5em;">Finster wie er selbst ist seine Hülle,</span><br /> -<span style="margin-left: 2.5em;">Mein <i>Entsagen</i>, was ihn feiern kann<a name="FNanchor_201_201" id="FNanchor_201_201"></a><a href="#Footnote_201_201" class="fnanchor">[201]</a>.</span><br /> -</p> - -<p>No doubt resignation is an essential characteristic in the evolution -of the Christian life; but it is only in the monkish conception of it -that it requires he should cut off from himself his soul, his emotions, -the so-called impulses of his Nature, and should not incorporate his -life in the moral, rational, actual world, the family and the State; -and it does so precisely as the Illumination and its Deism, which -presupposes that God is unknowable, imposes on mankind the extremest -form of resignation, namely, that of abandoning all effort either to -know or conceive Him. In any true exposition of Christian doctrine, -resignation is, on the contrary, merely a phasal moment of mediation, a -point of transition, in which that which is purely natural, sensuous, -and in general terms finite, strips off this its incompatible nature in -order to permit Spirit to attain the loftier freedom and reconciliation -of its own possessions, a freedom and blessedness which was unknown -to the Greeks. In Christianity as thus understood we are not entitled -to speak of the celebration of the one God, of the bare seclusion of -Himself, and the cutting ourselves adrift from an ungodly world, for it -is precisely in this spiritual freedom and reconciliation<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_269" id="Page_269">[Pg 269]</a></span> of Spirit -that God is immanent, and from this point of view the famous lines of -Schiller:</p> - -<p> -<span style="margin-left: 2.5em;">Da die Göttes menschlicher noch waren,</span><br /> -<span style="margin-left: 2.5em;">Waren Menschen göttlicher<a name="FNanchor_202_202" id="FNanchor_202_202"></a><a href="#Footnote_202_202" class="fnanchor">[202]</a>.</span><br /> -</p> - -<p>is absolutely false. We must for this very reason emphasize the later -alteration made in the concluding lines which refer thus to the Greek -gods:</p> - -<p> -<span style="margin-left: 2.5em;">Aus der Zeitfluh weggerissen schweben</span><br /> -<span style="margin-left: 2.5em;">Sie gerettet auf des Pindus Höhn;</span><br /> -<span style="margin-left: 2.5em;">Was unsterblich im Gesang soll leben,</span><br /> -<span style="margin-left: 2.5em;">Muss im Leben untergehn<a name="FNanchor_203_203" id="FNanchor_203_203"></a><a href="#Footnote_203_203" class="fnanchor">[203]</a>.</span><br /> -</p> - -<p>These words support entirely the assertion we have made above that -the Greek gods could only be localized in the mental conception and -imagination; they were neither able to affirm such a position in the -reality of life, nor satisfy in the long run finite spirit.</p> - -<p>Of another sort is the opposition of Parny to Christianity—a poet -named the French Tibullus on account of his successful elegies—which -is conspicuous in a prolix poem of ten cantos, a kind of epic poem -entitled "La Guerre des Dieux," as an attempt made to bring ridicule -upon Christian conceptions in the interests of jest and comedy carried -out in a tone of unrestrained frivolity, yet withal marked by good -humour and considerable talent. The sallies of wit here are not, -however, carried beyond the point of levity; we have few traces of -the wanton disregard of things that are sacred and of the highest -excellence such as marks the period of Frederick von Schlegel's -"Lucinde." The Virgin Mary no doubt is treated very badly in this poem. -The monks, Dominicans and Franciscans, yield to the seductions of wine -and Bacchanals, and the nuns do much the same with Fauns, and the -result is sufficiently shocking.<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_270" id="Page_270">[Pg 270]</a></span> Finally, however, the gods of the old -world are vanquished and withdraw from Olympus to Parnassus.</p> - -<p>As a concluding illustration Goethe in his "Bride of Corinth" has -more profoundly depicted in a vivacious picture the banishment of -love, not so much as the result of any true principle of Christianity -as the misconceived interpretation of resignation and sacrifice. The -poet here contrasts that false asceticism which seeks to condemn the -determination of a woman to be wife and rates that enforced celibacy -as something more holy than marriage with the natural feelings of -mankind. Just as we find in Schiller the opposition between the Greek -imagination and the critical abstractions of our modern Enlightenment, -so we may detect here the Hellenistic ethical and sensuous -justifications in the matter of love and marriage, placed in direct -contrast to ideas which can only claim to belong to the Christian -religion when regarded from a wholly one-sided and therefore incorrect -point of view. With the greatest art a really horrible tone dominates -the entire work; and the principal reason is this, that it remains -quite uncertain whether the action has reference to a real maiden, or -a dead one, a living reality or a ghost; and in the metre of the verse -itself in an equally masterly way the threads of light foolery and -seriousness are so interwoven as to make the uncanniness still more -effective.</p> - -<p>(<i>c</i>) Before, however, we attempt to gauge in its profundity the new -type of art, whose opposition to the old does not come into the course -of Art's development, so far, at least, as we here have undertaken to -follow it along its fundamental lines, we must in the first instance -make clear for ourselves that other transition in its earliest form, -which attaches to antique art itself. The principle of this transition -consists in this, that the Spirit whose individuality hitherto has been -contemplated as in harmony with the true subsistency of Nature and -human life, and which, in respect to its own life, volition, and acts, -was consciously at home in that accord, begins now to withdraw itself -into the infinite subjectivity of its essence, but instead of the true -infinity is only able to secure a purely formal and indeed still finite -return upon itself.</p> - -<p>If we look more closely at the concrete conditions which<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_271" id="Page_271">[Pg 271]</a></span> correspond to -the principle indicated, we shall see, we have already done so, that -the Greek gods possess as their content the substantive <i>materiae</i> of -real human life and action. Over and above the vision of the gods we -have now the highest mode of determination, the universal interest and -the end in determinate life, that is to say, presented at the same -time as an existing fact. Just as it was essential to the spiritual -configuration of Greek art to appear both as external and real, so, -too, the spiritual growth of mankind in its absolute significance -has elaborated itself in a reality that both externally appears and -is real, with whose substance and universality the individual has -put forward a claim to be in accordant fusion. This highest end was -in Greece the life of the State, the collective body of citizens and -their morality and living patriotism. Outside this supreme interest -there was no other more lofty or true. The life of the State, however, -as an external phenomenon of the world, fades into the Past, as do -the conditions of the entire reality of the outside world. It is not -difficult to demonstrate that a State under the type of such a freedom, -so immediately identical with all its citizens, which as such already -possess in their grasp the highest activity in all public transactions, -is inevitably small and weak, and in part must prove suicidal to -itself, in part fall into ruins in the natural course of the history -of nations. In other words, by reason of this immediate coalescence of -individual life with the universality of State-life, on the one hand -we find that the peculiar idiosyncrasies of spiritual experience and -its particular aspects as private life do not receive their full dues, -nor do they receive sufficient opportunity for a development innocuous -to society at large. Rather, as distinct from the concrete substance, -into which it has not been accepted, such a nature remains simply the -limited and natural egoism, which goes on its own way independently, -pursues its interests however much they are alien to the true interest -of the whole, and, consequently, is an instrument to the ruin of -the State, against which, in the last resort, it strains to oppose -its individual forces. On the other hand within the circle of this -freedom itself the need of a higher personal liberty is roused, which -not merely in the State, as the substantive totality, nor merely<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_272" id="Page_272">[Pg 272]</a></span> in -the accepted code of morals and law, but in the very soul of the man -himself asserts its claim to exist, in so far as he is ready to give -life to goodness and rectitude out of the wealth of his own nature and -in the light of his own personal knowledge, and to recognize the same -at its real worth. The individual subject demands of consciousness that -it should be, in virtue of its claim as self-identity, a substantive -whole. Consequently there arises in this freedom a new breach between -the end of the State and that of the man's own personal welfare as -essentially free himself. Such a conflict as this had already begun in -the time of Socrates, while on the other side the vanity, self-seeking -and unbridled character of democracy and demagogy corrupted the true -State to such a degree that men like Plato and Xenophon experienced a -loathing for the internal condition of their mother-city, where the -direction of all public transactions lay in the hands of those who were -either frivolous, or those who sought nothing but personal aims.</p> - -<p>The spirit of this transition, therefore, depends in the first -instance on the general line of severation between Spirit in its -unfolded self-subsistency and external existence. The spiritual in -this separation from its reality, in which it no longer finds itself -reflected, is then the abstract mode of Spirit; it is not, however, the -one Oriental god, but on the contrary the actual self-knowing conscious -subject, which brings to the fore and retains within the clasp of -its ideal subjectivity all that is universal in thought, truth, -goodness, and morality, and possesses therein not so much the knowledge -of a pre-existing reality as simply the content of its thoughts -and convictions. This relation, in so far as it persists in this -opposition, and sets up the two aspects of the same as purely opposites -to one another, would be of an entirely prosaic character. We do not, -however, at this stage as yet arrive at this point of bare prose. In -other words it is true that on the one hand we have a consciousness -present, which as self-secure, wills the Good, the fulfilment of its -desires, conceives the reality of its notion in the virtue of its -emotional life, much as we find it thus imaged in the ancient gods, -morals, and laws. At the same time, however, this consciousness is -split up in opposition to its existence as part of existing Life, in -other<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_273" id="Page_273">[Pg 273]</a></span> words the actual political life of the time, the dissolution -of the old modes of conception, the former type of patriotism and -political wisdom, and adheres thereby unquestionably to that opposition -between the inward life of soul and the real environment outside it. -And the reason of this hesitancy is this that the bare conceptions -of genuine ethical truth which it derives from its own inner world -are unable to fully satisfy it; it consequently faces that which is -exterior to this, to which it relates itself in a negative and hostile -spirit with the object of changing it. This consciousness is, as -already stated, on the one hand no doubt an inward and present content, -which, self-determined and at the same time deliberately articulate, -is concerned with a world that confronts it, to which this content is -opposed, and which receives the task to depict this same reality in -the semblance of the very traits of the corruption peculiar to that -world, and which form such a contrast with its own ideas of goodness -and truth. From another point of view this very contrast is cancelled -by art itself. In other words, another type of art arises, in which the -conflict of this opposition is not emphasized through the medium of -mere thoughts, remaining thus in its disunion; but this reality in the -very folly of its corruption is itself submitted to a mode of artistic -presentation, which exposes it as self-destructive, and exposes it in -such a way that it is precisely in and through this self-destructive -process of what is of no weight that truth is enabled to assert itself -upon this mirror as the secure and endurable power, and thereby all the -force of a direct opposition to what is essentially true is removed -from that side represented by folly and unreasonableness. This art is -comedy, of the type Aristophanes dramatized for his fellow-citizens, -connecting it closely with all that was essential in the world around -him, and doing so with equanimity<a name="FNanchor_204_204" id="FNanchor_204_204"></a><a href="#Footnote_204_204" class="fnanchor">[204]</a>, in a mood of pure and hearty -joviality.</p> - - -<h6>3. SATIRE</h6> - -<p>We may, however, observe that this resolution of art, despite its -adequacy, tends to disappear to this extent, that the contradictory -antithesis persists in the form of its <i>opposition</i>, and, consequently, -instead of the poetic reconciliation a<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_274" id="Page_274">[Pg 274]</a></span> prosaic relation is imported, -by means of which the classical type of art appears to be annulled, and -the gods of plastic shape no less than the entire world of human beauty -vanish with it. We have, then, now to look about us for a form of art, -which is able to reclothe itself from the ruins of this overthrow in -a loftier configuration and to extract the real significance which it -implies. We discovered as the terminating point of symbolic art in -the same way that the separation of pure form from its significance -was emphasized in a variety of modes such as simile, fable, parable, -riddle, and the like. Inasmuch as the severation above adverted to is -causally responsible for the dissolution of that art-type, in a similar -way the question arises what is the nature of the distinction between -our present example of transition as contrasted with the previous one. -The distinction is as follows:</p> - -<p>(<i>a</i>) In the truly symbolic and comparative type of art the form and -significance are from the very first, despite the affinity of their -relationship, alien to one another; they are placed, however, in no -mere negative, but rather in amicable relationship; for it is precisely -the qualities and traits which are identical to or resemble each other -on the two sides which assert themselves as the causal basis of their -conjunction and comparison. Their persistent separation and hostility -is consequently within the bounds of this union neither, relatively to -the separated aspects, of a <i>hostile</i> character, nor is a blending of -the same, within essentially narrow limits, thereby removed from them. -The Ideal of classical art, on the contrary, proceeds from the perfect -interfusion of significance and form, the ideal individuality of spirit -and its external conformation; and when the composite aspects which -have been brought together in such a consummated unity are disrupted, -this disruption takes place simply because they are unable any longer -to cohere one with the other, and are absolutely compelled to start -forth from their peaceful state of harmony in disunion and hostility.</p> - -<p>(<i>b</i>) Together with this way of looking at the relation in contrast -to that of symbolic art we may add that the <i>content</i> of both sides -is altered, as they now stand in opposition. To put it thus we may -say that, in the symbolic type of art,<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_275" id="Page_275">[Pg 275]</a></span> it is abstractions more or -less, general thoughts, or at least definite phrases in the form of -generalities peculiar to reflective thought, which, by means of the -symbolic type of art, receive a sensuous embodiment replete with -suggestion. In the form, however, which makes itself predominant in -this transition to romantic art the content, it is true, is made up -of a similar abstraction of general thoughts, opinions, and maxims of -reflective reason, but in this case it is not these abstractions in -themselves, but rather their presence in the <i>individual's</i> mind and -his self-subsistent identity which furnish the content for one side of -the opposition. For the primary requirement of this mediating stage -consists in this, that the spiritual which has attained the Ideal, -shall stand forth in its entire independence. Already in classical -art we found that spiritual individuality was of chief importance, -albeit on the side of its realization it remained reconciled with a -determinate existence as immediately presented. What is of importance -now is to declare a mode of subjectivity which strives to acquire the -mastery over the form that is no longer adequate to it, in a word, over -external reality. In this way the world of Spirit becomes liberated as -independent. It recovers itself from bondage to the sensuous material -and manifests itself thereby through this return upon its own resources -as the subject of a self-consciousness which only finds contentment -in the secret wealth of its own domain. This subject, however, which -repels externality from itself, is not in respect to its ideal aspect -yet the truly concrete totality which encloses as content the Absolute -under the mode of self-conscious spiritual life; rather it is, as still -fettered by its opposition to reality, a purely abstract, finite, -and unsatisfied form of subjectivity. In opposition to this we have -confronting it an equally finite mode of reality, which on its part is -also independent, but just for that very reason—forasmuch, that is, -as the truth of Spirit has withdrawn from it into its own ideality and -henceforward neither will nor can identity itself with it, appears as -a reality void of all gods and an existence fallen into rottenness. In -this manner and at this point art brings forward a Spirit that thinks, -that is, to repeat our former analysis, the individual consciousness -of our humanity, which, supporting itself on its own possession of the -abstract<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_276" id="Page_276">[Pg 276]</a></span> knowledge and volition of goodness and virtue, confronts -with hostility therewith the corruption of its present environment. -That aspect of this opposition which remains unresolved, and in which -the ideal and external modes of its antithesis persist in their -disruption, constitutes the element of prose in the mutual relation of -the two sides. A noble mind or a virtuous soul to whom the realization -of self-conscious life is denied in a world of vice and folly, turns -away from the existence which thus confronts him with passionate -indignation, or more subtle wit and more frosty bitterness, and either -is wroth with or scorns a world which gives the lie direct to his -abstract notions of virtue and truth.</p> - -<p>The type of art which accepts this sudden outburst of opposition -between a subjectivity still finite in its mode and a degenerate world -outside it as its matter is the <i>Satire</i>, the ordinary theories as to -which have little to commend them, for the simple reason that they -break down precisely where we look for their assistance. Satire has -nothing to do with epic poetry, and it has just as little affinity -with lyric. In the Satire it is not the life of the emotional nature -which is expressed; rather the general conception of goodness and what -is essentially needful, which it no doubt blends with the particular -aspect of soul-life<a name="FNanchor_205_205" id="FNanchor_205_205"></a><a href="#Footnote_205_205" class="fnanchor">[205]</a>, appears as the virtuousness of this or that -individual; but this does not suffer itself to be enjoyed in the open -and unhampered beauty of imaginative conception or let that enjoyment -issue freely. Rather with discontent it retains the existing discord -between the writer's own state of mind and its abstract principles -and the empirical reality which mocks them. To this extent satire -is neither a genuine creation of the poet nor a real work of art. -For these reasons the point of view of the satirical poem can never -be reached satisfactorily through those other types of poetry just -mentioned; it must be apprehended in a more general way as the example -of this very transitional form we referred to from the classic Ideal.</p> - -<p>(<i>c</i>) Inasmuch, then, as it is, relatively to its ideal content, the -prosaic resolution of the Ideal, which asserts itself mainly<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_277" id="Page_277">[Pg 277]</a></span> in -satire, we do not find that Greece, which is pre-eminently the native -land of Beauty, is the place where we must look for it. Satirical -poems of the nature above described are the characteristic possession -of Rome. The spirit of the Roman world is the sovereignty of the -abstract Ideal, the law that is dead, the shipwreck of beauty and of -the joyousness of civic life, the suppression of the family in the -sense that it is the immediate and most natural form of morality, and -generally the sacrifice of individuality, which surrenders itself -wholly to the State, and in obedience to the abstract law is satisfied -with the frost-like sense of political worth and critical satisfaction -which it supplies. The principle of this civic virtue, the cold-blooded -harshness of which subjects to its pleasure all alien peoples, while -the formal rectitude of the personal life is elaborated to the furthest -point of consistency on equally rigid lines, is wholly inconsonant -with genuine art. We find, therefore, even in Rome no art that is at -once conspicuous in its beauty, freedom, and greatness. It is from -the Greeks that the Romans borrowed all that they mastered whether -in sculpture or painting, epic, lyric, or dramatic poetry. It is a -remarkable fact that all that we can point to as the native product of -Latin art is comic farces, whereas the more cultivated types of comedy, -not excluding those of Plautus and Terence, are borrowed from Greece, -and are rather an affair of imitation than independent production. -Even Ennius first exhausted the sources of Greek poetry before he -made mythology prosaic. That type of art is alone native to the Latin -genius, which was essentially itself prosaic, the didactic poem, for -example, more particularly when it contains an ethical content, and -endows its general reflections with the purely exterior adornment of -metre, images, similes, and a rhetorically beautiful diction. But above -all other forms thus excepted we place the satire. Here we find it is -the mood of virtuous exasperation over the surrounding world which -strives to air itself in what is, in some measure, hollow declamations. -We can only call this essentially prosaic type of art poetical in so -far as it brings before the vision the corrupted nature of real life -in such a way that this corruption practically falls to pieces as the -result of its own folly. Just as Horace, who as a lyric poet entirely -identified himself by study with the artistic type and<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_278" id="Page_278">[Pg 278]</a></span> manner of -Greece, in his epistles and satires—where we have his originality -more emphasized—traces for us a living picture of the morals of his -age, by depicting follies which are self-destructive by virtue of the -stupidity, that carries them into effect. Nevertheless, even this -example only presents us with a kind of merriment that for all its keen -and educated sense can barely be classed as poetry, the object in the -main being to make ridicule out of that which is bad. Among others, on -the contrary, we find that the abstract conception of rectitude and -virtue is deliberately contrasted with vice; and in this case it is -exasperation, anger, hate, and scorn, which in some measure expatiate -in formal eloquence over virtue and wisdom, and in part give full rein -to the indignation of a soul of more nobility against the dissolution -and servility of the times, or hold up before the vices of the day the -mirror of the old morality, the former liberty, the virtues of a state -of the world which has passed away, without any genuine hope and belief -in their recovery; or rather one which has nothing to oppose to the -tottering gait, the dilemmas, the need and danger of an ignominious -present, save a stoical equanimity and the unshakable conscience of a -virtuous soul. Roman history and philosophy not unfrequently receive -something of the same tone from a mood of this kind. Sallust must -needs express himself strongly against the corruptions of morals, -being himself very considerably affected by them. Livy, despite his -rhetorical elegance, seeks for comfort and satisfaction in his picture -of the good old days. Above all we have Tacitus, who, with a severe -melancholy as grand in its scope as it was profound, without the -baldness of declamation, indignantly exposes in the clearest relief -the evils of his time. Among the satirists Persius is remarkable for -his acerbity, with a bitter edge more keen than that of Juvenal. Later -on we find bringing up the rear the Greek Syrian Lucian giving free -vent to his witticisms and pleasantry against all things, whether -heroes, philosophers, or gods; and with exceptional prominence passing -in review the ancient gods of Greece on the score of their humanity -and individuality. However, only too often he goes no further in his -tittle-tattle than the mere external aspect of these godlike figures -and their actions, and is for that reason wearisome to modern readers.<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_279" id="Page_279">[Pg 279]</a></span> -For, on the one hand, so far as our convictions are concerned, we have -already disposed of all that he would destroy, and on the other we are -aware that, despite all his jests and mockery, these characteristic -traits of Greek divinities, when contemplated under the aspect of -beauty, still retain their eternal significance.</p> - -<p>Nowadays satirical poems are not likely to prove a success. Cotta and -Goethe have proposed competitions in this form of composition, but no -poems of note are forthcoming. Certain fixed principles are bound up -with it, with which the present age is not in harmony; a wisdom which -is devoid of content, a virtue which adheres with inflexible obstinacy -to its own resources and nothing beyond, may very possibly contrast -itself with the actual world, but is quite unable to bring about the -truly poetical resolution of what is false and repugnant, and effect -the genuine reconciliation in the truth.</p> - -<p>In one word, Art is unable to persist in this breach between the -abstract conceptions of the inward life and the objective world -around, without proving itself false to its own principle. The -subjective realm of the soul must be conceived as that which is itself -an essentially infinite and independent existence, which, albeit it -is unable to suffer the finite reality to subsist as Truth itself, -nevertheless does not merely assert itself negatively toward the same -in a bare contradiction, but proceeds all the while on the path of -reconciliation, and for the first time, in its opposition to the ideal -individualities of the classical art-form, declares this very activity, -being in fact the presentment of the absolute mode of self-conscious -life.</p> -<hr class="r5" /> -<div class="footnote"> - -<p><a name="Footnote_197_197" id="Footnote_197_197"></a><a href="#FNanchor_197_197"><span class="label">[197]</span></a> Lit. "the essentially-and-for-itself-necessary."</p></div> - -<div class="footnote"> - -<p><a name="Footnote_198_198" id="Footnote_198_198"></a><a href="#FNanchor_198_198"><span class="label">[198]</span></a> Hölderlin, and of course Goethe no less than Schiller, -would be included. With our moderns such as Swinburne the admission is -less obvious than the qualification.</p></div> - -<div class="footnote"> - -<p><a name="Footnote_199_199" id="Footnote_199_199"></a><a href="#FNanchor_199_199"><span class="label">[199]</span></a> <i>Die Aufklärung.</i> That is, the end of the eighteenth -century; usually translated as illumination or enlightenment.</p></div> - -<div class="footnote"> - -<p><a name="Footnote_200_200" id="Footnote_200_200"></a><a href="#FNanchor_200_200"><span class="label">[200]</span></a> <i>Verstand</i>, the faculty of science and common sense.</p></div> - -<div class="footnote"> - -<p><a name="Footnote_201_201" id="Footnote_201_201"></a><a href="#FNanchor_201_201"><span class="label">[201]</span></a> -</p> -<p> -<span style="margin-left: 2.5em;">What! doth this same stillness tell me sadly</span><br /> -<span style="margin-left: 2.5em;">All I know of Him who voiced creation?</span><br /> -<span style="margin-left: 2.5em;">Dark as e'en the veil that hides Him from me</span><br /> -<span style="margin-left: 2.5em;">Is my heart's salute of resignation.</span><br /> -</p></div> - -<div class="footnote"> - -<p><a name="Footnote_202_202" id="Footnote_202_202"></a><a href="#FNanchor_202_202"><span class="label">[202]</span></a> -</p> -<p> -<span style="margin-left: 2.5em;">Since the gods were then more human</span><br /> -<span style="margin-left: 2.5em;">Men were more in image godlike.</span><br /> -</p></div> - -<div class="footnote"> - -<p><a name="Footnote_203_203" id="Footnote_203_203"></a><a href="#FNanchor_203_203"><span class="label">[203]</span></a> -</p> -<p> -<span style="margin-left: 2.5em;">Wrested from the flood of Time's abysses</span><br /> -<span style="margin-left: 3.5em;">Saved they float above high Pindus now;</span><br /> -<span style="margin-left: 2.5em;">All that was immortal life within them</span><br /> -<span style="margin-left: 3.5em;">Lives in song, all other life must go.</span><br /> -</p> -</div> - -<div class="footnote"> - -<p><a name="Footnote_204_204" id="Footnote_204_204"></a><a href="#FNanchor_204_204"><span class="label">[204]</span></a> <i>Zornlos</i> lit., without anger.</p></div> - -<div class="footnote"> - -<p><a name="Footnote_205_205" id="Footnote_205_205"></a><a href="#FNanchor_205_205"><span class="label">[205]</span></a> I think this is the meaning of the words <i>mit -subjectiver Besonderheit</i>, but the interpretation "with other material -peculiar to the writer" is not impossible.</p> - -<hr class="chap" /> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_280" id="Page_280">[Pg 280]</a><br /><a name="Page_281" id="Page_281">[Pg 281]</a></span></p></div> - - - - -<h5>SUBSECTION III</h5> - -<h4>THE ROMANTIC TYPE OF ART</h4> - -<h5>INTRODUCTION</h5> - -<h5>OF THE ROMANTIC GENERALLY</h5> - -<p>The type of romantic art receives its definition, as we have hitherto -throughout the present inquiry seen was always the case, from the ideal -notion of the content, which it is the function of art to declare. -We must consequently in the first place attempt to elucidate the -distinctive principle of the new content, a content which now, in its -significance as the absolute content of truth, opens up to our minds a -new vision of the world no less than a novel configuration of art.</p> - -<p>In the <i>first</i> stage of our inquiry, the entrance chamber of art, -the impulse of imagination consisted in the struggle from Nature to -spiritual expression. In this strain Spirit never reached beyond -what was still only an effort to find, an effort which, in so far as -it was not yet able to supply a genuine content for art, could only -maintain its position as an external embodiment of the significant -aspects of Nature, or those abstractions of the ideal inwardness -of substance which were destitute of a subjective character in the -strict sense, and in which this type of art found its real centre. The -<i>reverse</i> of this point of view we discovered in classical art. Here -it is spirituality—albeit it is only by virtue of the abrogation of -the significances of Nature that it is enabled to struggle forth in -its independent self-identity—which is the basis and principle of -the content, with the natural phenomenon in the bodily or sensuous -material for its external form. This embodiment, however, did not, -as was the case in the first stage, remain superficial, indefinite, -and unsuffused<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_282" id="Page_282">[Pg 282]</a></span> by its content; but the perfection of art attained -its culminating point by precisely this means, namely, that Spirit -completely transpierced its exterior appearance, idealized the shell -of Nature in this union of beauty, and drew round itself a reality -adequate to its own nature as mind under the mode of substantive -individuality. By this means classical art was a presentation of the -Ideal which completely satisfied its notion, the consummation of the -realm of beauty. More beautiful art than this can neither exist now nor -hereafter.</p> - -<p>But for all that we may have an art that is more lofty in its aim than -this lovely revelation of Spirit in its immediate sensuous form, if -at the same time one that is created by the mind as adequate to its -own nature. For this coalition, which perfects itself in the medium of -what is external, and thereby makes sensible reality its adequate and -determinate existence, necessarily runs counter to the true notion of -Spirit, and drives it forth from its reconciliation in the bodily shape -upon its own essential substance to seek further reconciliation in that -alone. The simple and unriven totality of the Ideal is dissolved, and -breaks up into one of twofold aspect, namely, that of the essentially -subjective life and its exterior semblance, in order to enable mind, -by means of this severation, to win the profounder reconciliation -in its own most proper element. In one word, Spirit, which has for -its principle the mode of entire self-sufficiency, the union of its -notion with its reality—is only able to discover an existence that -wholly corresponds to such a principle in its own spiritual world of -emotion, soul, that is to say, in the inward life where it feels at -home. The human spirit becomes aware that it must possess its Other, -its <i>existence</i>, as Spirit, which it appropriates as its own and what -it verily is, and by doing so at length enjoys its own infinity and -freedom.</p> - -<p>1. This elevation of Spirit to its <i>own substance</i>, through which it -attains its objectivity—which it would otherwise be obliged to seek -for in the external environment of its existence within its own self -and in this union with itself both feels and knows itself—is what -constitutes the fundamental principle of romantic art. With this truth -we may join as a corollary thereto that for this concluding stage the -beauty of the classic Ideal, or in other words beauty in its most -uniquely consonant form and its most conformable content, is no longer -regarded as ultimate. For in arriving at the<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_283" id="Page_283">[Pg 283]</a></span> point of romantic art, -Spirit<a name="FNanchor_206_206" id="FNanchor_206_206"></a><a href="#Footnote_206_206" class="fnanchor">[206]</a> becomes aware that its truth is not fully attained by a -self-absorption in the material of sense. On the contrary, it only -comes fully to the knowledge of that truth by withdrawing itself out -of that medium into the inward being of its own substance, whereby it -deliberately affirms the inadequacy of external reality as a mode of -its existence. It is owing to this that when this new content is set -the essential task of making itself an object of beauty, the beauty, in -the meaning of the terms under which we have met with it before, only -persists as a subordinate mode, and the new conception of it becomes -the <i>spiritual</i> beauty of what is its own ideality made fully explicit, -in other words, the subjectivity of Spirit essentially infinite in its -mode.</p> - -<p>In order, however, that mind may attain the infinity which belongs -to it it must transcend at the same time purely formal and <i>finite</i> -personality and rise into the measure of the <i>Absolute.</i> That is to -say, Spirit must declare itself as fulfilled with that which is out -and out substantive, and in doing so proclaim itself as a self-knowing -and self-willing subject. Conversely, therefore, what is substantive -and true is no longer to be apprehended as a mere "beyond" relatively -to our humanity, and the anthropomorphism of the Greek view of things -can be struck out; and in the place of this we have humanity as very -and real subjectivity affirmed as the principle, and by virtue of this -change, as we have already seen, anthropomorphism for the first time -reflects a truth of complete and final validity.</p> - -<p>2. We have now in a general way to develop the range of subject-matter, -no less than its form, from the earliest phases in the evolution of -this principle, whose configuration, as it thus changes, is conditioned -by the new content of romantic art.</p> - -<p>The true principle of the romantic content is absolute inwardness<a name="FNanchor_207_207" id="FNanchor_207_207"></a><a href="#Footnote_207_207" class="fnanchor">[207]</a>, -and the form which corresponds to it, the subjectivity of mind, meaning -by this the comprehension of its self-subsistence and freedom. This -intrinsically infinite principle and explicitly enunciated universal -is the absolute negation of all particularity<a name="FNanchor_208_208" id="FNanchor_208_208"></a><a href="#Footnote_208_208" class="fnanchor">[208]</a>; it is simple -unity at home with<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_284" id="Page_284">[Pg 284]</a></span> itself, which consumes all that is separable, all -processes of Nature and its succession of birth, passing away, and -reappearance, all the limitations of spiritual existence, and dissolves -all particular gods in its pure and infinite self-identity. In this -Pantheon all gods are dethroned; the flame of the subjective essence -has destroyed them; instead of the plastic polytheism art recognizes -now <i>one</i> God only, <i>one</i> Spirit, <i>one</i> absolute self-subsistence, -which as the absolute knowledge and volition of itself remains in -free union with it, and no longer falls to pieces in the particular -characters and functions we have reviewed above, whose single unit of -cohesion was the force of an obscure Necessity. Absolute subjectivity, -however, in its purity would escape from art altogether, and only be -present in the apprehension of Thought, unless it could enter into -external existence in order that it might be a subjectivity which was -<i>actual</i> if also conformable to its notion, and further could recollect -itself in its own province from out of this reality. And, what is -more, this moment of reality is pertinent to the Absolute, because -the Absolute, as infinite negativity, contains this self-relation—as -simple unity of knowledge at home with itself, and therewith as -<i>immediacy</i>—for the final consummation of its activity. On account -also of this its immediate existence, which is rooted in the Absolute -itself, the Absolute declares itself not as the one jealous God, who -merely annuls the aspect of Nature and finite human existence, without -revealing itself verily therein under the mode of actual divine -subjectivity; rather the very Absolute unfolds itself, and takes to -itself an aspect, relatively to which it is also within the grasp and -presentation of art.</p> - -<p>The determinate existence of God, however, is not the natural and -sensuous in its simplicity, but the sensuous as brought home to that -which is not sensuous, in other words to the subjectivity of mind -which, instead of losing the certainty of its own presence as the -Absolute, in its external envisagement, for the first time, and by no -other means than this its reality, is made aware of its actual presence -as such. God in His Truth is consequently no mere Ideal begotten of the -imagination, but He declares Himself in the heart of finite condition -and the external mode of contingent existence, and is, moreover, made -known to Himself therein as divine subjective life, which maintains -itself there<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_285" id="Page_285">[Pg 285]</a></span> as essentially infinite and creating this infinity for -itself. Inasmuch, then, as the actual subject<a name="FNanchor_209_209" id="FNanchor_209_209"></a><a href="#Footnote_209_209" class="fnanchor">[209]</a> is the manifestation -of God, Art for the first time secures the superior right to apply -the human figure and its mode of externality generally as a means to -express the Absolute, although the new function of art can only consist -in making the external form not a means whereby the ideality of man's -inward condition is absorbed in exterior bodily shape, but rather -conversely to make the consciousness of the Divine mind visible in the -subject of consciousness. The distinguishable phases, which combine to -make up the totality of this apprehension of the world-condition as, -that is to say, the concrete totality of truth, are consequently made -manifest to mankind from this point onwards under such a mode that -it is neither the Natural in its simplicity, such as sun, heavens, -stars, and so forth, nor the Greek conclave of the gods of beauty, nor -the heroes and practical exploits in the field of the family cultus -and political life—it is neither one nor any of these which supplies -us with either content or form. Rather it is the actual and isolated -individual subject who receives in the inward<a name="FNanchor_210_210" id="FNanchor_210_210"></a><a href="#Footnote_210_210" class="fnanchor">[210]</a> substance of his -living experience this infinite worth, for it is in him alone that the -eternal characters of absolute Truth—which is made actual only as -Spirit—expand out of their fulness within, and are concentrated to the -point of determinate existence.</p> - -<p>If we contrast this definition of romantic art with that which -was proposed to the classical—that is to say, as Greek sculpture -completed the latter under the mode most conformable to it—it is -obvious that the plastic figure of the god does not express the -motion and activity of Spirit, in so far as the same has retired from -its actual bodily shape, and has penetrated to the inner shrine of -independent self-identity. That which is mutable and contingent in -the empirical aspect of individuality is no doubt removed from those -lofty, godlike figures: what, however, fails them is the actualization -of the subjective condition in its self-subsistent being as shown in -self-knowledge and self-volition. This defect makes itself felt on the -exterior side in the notable fact that the direct expression of soul in -its simplicity, the light of the eye, is absent from the sculptured<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_286" id="Page_286">[Pg 286]</a></span> -figure. The most exalted works of beautiful sculpture are sightless. -The inward life does not look forth from them as self-conscious -inwardness such as this concentration of Spirit to the point of light -made visible in the human eye offers us. This light of the soul falls -outside of them, and is the possession of the beholder alone: he is -unable to look through these figures as soul direct to soul, and eye -to eye. The God of romantic art, however, is made known with sight, -that is, self-knowing, subjective on the side of soul, and that soul or -divine intimacy disclosing itself to soul. For the infinite negativity, -the withdrawal of the spiritual into itself, cancels its discharge -in the bodily frame. This subjectivity is the light of Spirit, which -reveals itself in its own domain, in the place which was previously -obscure, whereas the natural light can only give light on the face of -an object, is in fact this <i>terrain</i> and object, upon which it appears, -and which it is aware of as itself<a name="FNanchor_211_211" id="FNanchor_211_211"></a><a href="#Footnote_211_211" class="fnanchor">[211]</a>. Inasmuch as, however, this -absolute intimacy of the soul expresses itself at the same time as -the mode of human envisagement in its actual existing shape, and our -humanity is bound up with the entire natural world, we shall find -that there is no less a wide field of variety in the contents of the -subjective world of mind than there is in that external appearance, to -which Spirit is related as to its own dwelling-place.</p> - -<p>The reality of absolute subjectivity, as above described, in the mode -of its visible manifestation, possesses the following modes of content -and appearance.</p> - -<p>(<i>a</i>) Our first point of departure we must deduce from the Absolute -itself, which as very and actual mind endows itself with determinate -existence, is self-knowing in its thought and activity. Here we find -the human form so represented that it is known immediately as the -wholly self-possessed Divine. Man does not appear as man in his solely -human character, in the constraint of his passions, finite aims, -and achievements, or as merely conscious of God, but rather as the -self-knowing one and only universal God Himself, in whose life and -sufferings, birth, death, and resurrection He reveals openly also to -finite consciousness, what Spirit, what the Eternal and Infinite in -their veritable truth are<a name="FNanchor_212_212" id="FNanchor_212_212"></a><a href="#Footnote_212_212" class="fnanchor">[212]</a>. Romantic<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_287" id="Page_287">[Pg 287]</a></span> art presents this content -in the history of Christ, his mother, and his disciples, with all -the rest of those in whom the Holy Spirit and the perfected Divine -is manifested. For in so far as God, who is above all the essential -Universal, exists in the manifestation of human existence, this -reality is not, in the Divine figure of Christ, limited to isolate and -immediate existence, but unfolds itself throughout the entire range -of that humanity, in which the Spirit of God is made present, and in -this actuality continues in unity with itself. The diffusion of this -self-contemplation, this essential self-possession of mind<a name="FNanchor_213_213" id="FNanchor_213_213"></a><a href="#Footnote_213_213" class="fnanchor">[213]</a>, is -peace, in other words the reconciled state of Spirit with its own -dominion in the mode of its objective presence—a divine world, a -kingdom of God, in which the Divine, which has for its substantive -notion from the first reconciliation with itself, consummates this -result in such a condition, and thereby secures its freedom.</p> - -<p>(<i>b</i>) However much, we must fain add, this identification asserts -itself as grounded in the essence of the Absolute itself, as spiritual -freedom and infinity it is no reconciliation which immediately is -visible from the first in either the real worlds of Nature or Spirit; -on the contrary, it is only accomplished as the elevation of Spirit -from the finitude of its immediate existence to its truth. As a -corollary of this it follows that Spirit, in order to secure its -totality and freedom, must effect an act of self-severation, and set -up on the one side itself as the finitude of Nature and Spirit to -its opposed self on the other as that which is essentially infinite. -Conversely with this act of disruption the necessity is conjoined -that from out of this retirement from its unity—within the bounds of -which the finite and purely natural, the immediacy of existence, the -"natural" heart in the sense of the negative, evil and bad, one and -all are defined—a way is at last found by virtue of the subjugation -of all that has no substantive worth within the kingdom of truth and -consolation. In this wise the reconcilement of Spirit can only be -conceived as an activity, a movement of the same, can only be presented -as a process, in whose course arise<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_288" id="Page_288">[Pg 288]</a></span> both strain and conflict, and -the appearance and reappearance, as an essential feature of it, of -pain, death, the mournful sense of non-reality, the agony of the -soul and its bodily tenement. For just as God in the first instance -disparts finite reality from Himself, so, too, finite man, who starts -on his journey outside the divine kingdom, receives the task to exalt -himself to God, to let loose from him the finite, to do away with the -nothing-worth, and by means of this decease of his immediate reality -to become that which God in His manifestation as man accomplished as -very truth in the actual world. The infinite pain of this sacrifice of -the most personal subjectivity, sufferings, and death, which for the -most part were excluded from the representation of classical art, or -rather only are presented there as natural suffering, receive their -adequate treatment necessarily for the first time in romantic art. -It is, for example, impossible to affirm that among the Greeks death -was ever conceived in its full and essential significance. Neither -that which was purely natural, nor the immediacy of Spirit in its -union with the bodily presence, was held by the Greeks as something -in itself essentially negative. Death was consequently to them purely -an abstract passing over, unaccompanied by horror or fearsomeness, a -cessation without further immeasurable consequences for the deceased. -If, however, conscious life in its spiritual self-possession is of -infinite worth then the negation, which death enfolds, is a negation -of this exaltation and worth, and it is consequently fearful, a death -of the soul, which is in the position of finding itself thereby -as itself now this negative in explicit appearance, excluded for -evermore from happiness, absolutely unhappy, delivered over to eternal -damnation<a name="FNanchor_214_214" id="FNanchor_214_214"></a><a href="#Footnote_214_214" class="fnanchor">[214]</a>. Greek individuality, on the contrary, does not, -regarded as spiritual self-consciousness, attach this worth to itself; -it is able, consequently, to surround death with more cheerful images. -Man only fears the<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_289" id="Page_289">[Pg 289]</a></span> loss of that which is of great worth to him<a name="FNanchor_215_215" id="FNanchor_215_215"></a><a href="#Footnote_215_215" class="fnanchor">[215]</a>. -Life possesses, however, only this infinite worth for mind if the -subject thereof, as spiritual and self-conscious, is reality in its -absolute unity, and is compelled with an apprehension, in this way -justified, to image itself as doomed to negation by death. From another -point of view, however, death also fails to secure from classical -art the <i>positive</i> significance which it receives from romantic art. -The Greeks never treated with real seriousness what we understand -by immortality. It was only in later times that the doctrine of -immortality received at the hands of Socrates a profounder significance -for the introspective reflection of human intelligence. When, for -example, Odysseus<a name="FNanchor_216_216" id="FNanchor_216_216"></a><a href="#Footnote_216_216" class="fnanchor">[216]</a> praises the happiness of Achilles in the lower -world as one excelling that of all others who were before or came after -him on the ground that he, once revered as a god, is now greatest chief -among the dead, Achilles in the well-known words rates this fortune -at a very low rank indeed, and makes answer that Odysseus had better -utter no word of comfort to him on the score of death; nay, he would -rather be a mere serf of the soil, and poor enough serve a poor man -for wage, than rule as lord over all the ghosts of the dead who have -vanished to Hades. In romantic art, on the contrary, death is merely -a decease of the natural soul and finite consciousness, a decease, -which only proclaims itself as negative as against that which is itself -essentially negative and abolishes what has no real substance, and is -consequently the deliverance of Spirit<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_290" id="Page_290">[Pg 290]</a></span> from its finitude and division, -mediating at the same time the spiritual reconciliation of the -individual subject with the Absolute<a name="FNanchor_217_217" id="FNanchor_217_217"></a><a href="#Footnote_217_217" class="fnanchor">[217]</a>. Among the Greeks life in its -union with the existence of Nature and the external world was the only -life about which you could affirm anything, and death was consequently -pure negation, the dissolution of immediate reality. In the romantic -view of the world, however, death receives the significance due to -its negativity, in other words the negation of the negative<a name="FNanchor_218_218" id="FNanchor_218_218"></a><a href="#Footnote_218_218" class="fnanchor">[218]</a>, -and returns back to us thereby equally as the affirmative, as the -resurrection of Spirit from the bare husk of Nature and the finiteness -which it has outgrown. The pain and death of the extinguished light of -individual being awakes again in its return upon itself in fruition, -blessedness, and in short that reconciled existence which Spirit is -unable to attain to save through the dying of its negative state, in -which it is shut off from its most veritable truth and life. This -fundamental principle does not therefore merely affect the fact of -death as it approaches man in his relation to the world of Nature, but -it is bound up with a process, which Spirit has to sustain in itself, -quite independently of this external aspect of negation, if life and -truth are to join hands.</p> - -<p>(<i>c</i>) The <i>third</i> presentment of this absolute world of Spirit is -co-ordinated by man, in so far as he neither makes manifest the -Absolute and Divine in its immediate and essential mode as such -<i>Divine</i>, nor declares positively the process in which he is exalted -to the Supreme Being, and reconciled with Him, but rather continues -within the ordinary sphere of his human life. Here it is the purely -<i>finite</i> aspect of that existence which constitutes the content, -whether we regard it in the light of its spiritual purposes, its -worldly interests, passions, collisions, suffering, and enjoyments, -or from that point of view which is wholly external, that of Nature, -its kingdom, and all its detailed phenomena. In order to<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_291" id="Page_291">[Pg 291]</a></span> apprehend -this content with adequacy, however, we must take up two distinct -positions relatively to it. In other words, it is true that Spirit, -for the reason that it has secured the principle of self-affirmation, -expatiates in this province, as one on which it has a just claim, and -one which, as native to it, provides satisfaction, an element from -which it merely extracts this positive character<a name="FNanchor_219_219" id="FNanchor_219_219"></a><a href="#Footnote_219_219" class="fnanchor">[219]</a>, and is permitted -thereby itself to be reflected in its positive satisfaction and -intimacy; yet, on the other hand, we have the fact that this content -is brought down to the level of pure contingency, a contingency which -is unable to claim any independent validity, for the reason that mind -cannot discover therein it veritable existence, and consequently only -preserves its substantial unity by independently on its own account -breaking up again this finite aspect of Spirit and Nature as a thing of -finitude and negation.</p> - -<p>3. In conclusion, then, so far as the relation of this content in its -entirety to its mode of presentation is concerned, it would appear, -in the first place, agreeably to what we have above stated, that the -content of romantic art, relatively to the Divine, at any rate, is very -<i>limited.</i></p> - -<p>(<i>a</i>) For, first, as we have already indicated, Nature is divested of -the Divine principle; in other words, the sea and mountains, valleys, -Time, and Night, briefly all the general processes of Nature, have -here lost the worth which they carry when related to the presentation -and content of the Absolute. The images of Nature receive no further -expansion in a symbolic significance. The thesis that their shapes and -activities might possibly sustain traits of Divine import is taken away -from them. For all the mighty questions in regard to the origin of the -world, in regard to the Whence, Wherefore, and Whither, of created -Nature and humanity, and all the symbolical and plastic experiments -in the resolution and exposition of these problems disappear at once -in the revelation of God in Spirit; and we may add that also in the -spiritual sphere the world of variety and colour, with the characters, -actions, and events, as they were envisaged by classical art, are now -concentrated in <i>one</i> single <i>light-focus</i> of the Absolute and its -eternal<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_292" id="Page_292">[Pg 292]</a></span> history of redemption. The whole content meets, therefore, at -this single point of the Inmost of Spirit<a name="FNanchor_220_220" id="FNanchor_220_220"></a><a href="#Footnote_220_220" class="fnanchor">[220]</a>—that is, of feeling, -imagination, soul—all that strains after a union with truth, that -seeks and wrestles to bring to birth the Divine in consciousness, and -to maintain it; and, furthermore, is constrained to execute the world's -aims and undertakings, not so much for the <i>world's</i> sake as to further -the unique and essential undertaking of its heart by means of the -spiritual conflict of man's inward nature and his reconciliation with -God, presenting personality and its conservation no less than all that -paves the way to them for this object, and this alone. The heroism, -which makes its appearance as the result of such aspirations, is not -the kind of heroism which prescribes laws by its own fiat, establishes -new systems, creates and informs circumstances, but rather a heroism -of submission, which accepts everything as predetermined and ordered -above it, and whose energies are now wholly restricted to the task of -regulating temporal events in line with such direction, and making -that which is in keeping with the higher order and of independent -stability a valid factor in the world as if is and in the Time-process. -For the reason, however, that this absolute content appears as -concentrated to a focus in the inward <i>life of the soul</i>, and the -entire process is imported into the life of mankind, the range of this -content is thereby also infinitely extended. It <i>expands</i>, in fact, -to a manifold variety practically without limit. For although every -objective history supplies what is substantive in that self-concrete -soul-life, yet for all that the subject of the same reviews it in all -its aspects, presents isolated features taken from it, or unfolds it -as it appears in continually novel human traits by way of addition, -and may very well into the bargain both import the entire expanse of -Nature, as environment and <i>locale</i> of Spirit, and divert them to the -one single object referred to. By this means the history of soul-life -is infinitely rich, and can adapt its form to ever shifting conditions -and situations in every possible way. And, further, if the individual -at last steps forth from this absolute sphere and actively engages in -worldly affairs, the range of interests, objects, and emotions will -be difficult to count on the score<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_293" id="Page_293">[Pg 293]</a></span> in proportion as the spiritual -self-possession is profound, agreeably to the principle in its fullest -application; man is consequently distracted by an infinitely multiplied -profusion of interior and exterior collisions, revolutions, and -gradations of passion, and the most manifold degrees of satisfaction. -The Absolute in its unqualified and essential universality, in so far, -that is, as it is unfolded in the conscious life of the human soul, -constitutes the spiritual content of romantic art; and for this reason -his collective humanity, no less than its entire evolution, becomes its -inexhaustible material.</p> - -<p>(<i>b</i>) Romantic art does not, however, <i>as art</i> educe this content -in the way we found was the case for the most part in symbolic art, -and, above all, in the classical type and its ideal gods. Romantic -art, as we have seen already, is not, in its <i>specific</i> capacity, the -instructive <i>revelation</i>, which, merely in the form of art, makes -the content of truth visible to the senses. The content is already -present in the conceptive mind, and the emotions independently and -outside the sphere of art. <i>Religion</i>, as the consciousness of truth -in its universality, is here an essential <i>premiss</i> of art to a degree -totally different from what it was in the previous cases; and, even -if we look at the position in its wholly exterior aspect for the -consciousness that is actual in the reality of the material world, it -lies before us as the prosaic fact of the very present. That is to say, -inasmuch as the content of revelation to mind is the eternal absolute -nature of <i>mind</i><a name="FNanchor_221_221" id="FNanchor_221_221"></a><a href="#Footnote_221_221" class="fnanchor">[221]</a> itself, which breaks itself loose from Nature -in its bareness and <i>subordinates</i> the same, its manifestation in the -immediacy of present life is such that the external material, in so far -as it consists and is existent, only continues as a contingent world, -out of which the Absolute recollects itself in the secret wealth of -Spirit, and only by such means attains independence and truth. The -external show receives thus the imprimatur of an indifferent medium, -in which Spirit can repose no ultimate trust, and in which it can find -no dwelling-place. The more it conceives the conformation of external -reality as unworthy of its fulness the less it becomes able to seek -consolation therein, or to discover its task of self-reconcilement -consummated by a union therewith.</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_294" id="Page_294">[Pg 294]</a></span></p> - -<p>(<i>c</i>) The manner in which, therefore, romantic art gives to itself -a real embodiment agreeably to the spirit of the principle above -indicated, and on the side of its external appearance, is not one -which essentially overleaps the ordinary presentment of reality: it -is by no means averse to accept as cover for itself real existence in -its finite defects and definition. That beauty therefore disappears -from it, which tended to raise the outside envisagement above the -soilure of Time, and the traces that unite it with a Past, in order -to declare the beauty of existence in its blossom in the room of what -had otherwise been a dismantled image. Romantic art has no longer for -its aim the freedom and life of existence in its infinite tranquillity -and absorption of the soul in the bodily presence; no more a life -such as <i>this</i> arrests it. It turns its back on this pinnacle of -beauty. It interweaves the threads of its soul experience with the -contingent material of Nature's workshop, and gives unfettered play -to the emphatic features of ugliness itself. We have, in short, two -worlds included in the Romantic, a spiritual realm essentially complete -in itself, the soul-kingdom, which finds reconciliation in its own -sphere, and therewith the otherwise straightforward repetition of -birth, death, and resurrection now for the first time perfected in -the true circular orbit, doubled back in the return upon itself, the -genuine Phoenix life of Spirit. On the other hand, there is the realm -of external Nature simply as such, which, released as it is from its -secure association and union with Spirit, becomes now a completely -empirical reality, concerning the form of which the soul cares little -or nothing. In classical art Spirit controlled the empirical phenomenon -and transpierced it through and through, because it was the very thing -which it had to accept as its completed reality. But now the ideal -kingdom is indifferent to the mode of configuration in the world of -immediate sense, because this immediacy is beneath the sphere of the -blessedness of essential soul-life. The external phenomenon is no -longer able to express this inward life; and if any call is made upon -it for this purpose, it merely is utilized to make plain that the -external show is an existence which does not satisfy, and is forced -to point back by suggestion to the spiritual content, the soul and -its emotions, as the truly essential medium. Precisely for<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_295" id="Page_295">[Pg 295]</a></span> the same -reason romantic art suffers externality on its own part to go on -its way freely; and in this respect permits all and every material, -flowers, trees, and so on, down to the most ordinary domestic utensils, -to appear in its productions just as they are, and as the chance of -natural circumstance may arrange them. Such a content as this, however, -carries at the same time with it the result, that as purely exterior -matter, its worth is of no validity and insignificant; it only receives -its genuine worth when the soul has made itself a home in it, and it is -taken to express not merely the ideal, but <i>spiritual inwardness</i><a name="FNanchor_222_222" id="FNanchor_222_222"></a><a href="#Footnote_222_222" class="fnanchor">[222]</a> -itself, which, instead of blending itself with the exterior thing, -appears simply to have attained its own reconciliation with itself. The -ideality thus brought home to a point is that mode of expression which -is without externality, invisibly declaring itself, and only itself, -in other words, a tone of music simply, which is neither an object nor -possesses form, a wavelet over waters<a name="FNanchor_223_223" id="FNanchor_223_223"></a><a href="#Footnote_223_223" class="fnanchor">[223]</a>, a ringing sound over a -world, which, in sounds such as this, and the varied phenomena which -are united with it, can only receive and reflect one reverberation of -this self-absorption of the soul.</p> - -<p>To sum up, then, in a word, this relation of content and form in the -romantic type, where it remains true to its distinctive character, we -may affirm that the fundamental note of the same, for this very reason -that its principle constitutes an ever expanding universality and the -restlessly active depths of heart and mind, is that of <i>music</i>, and -when combined with the definite content of imagination, lyrical. This -<i>lyrical</i> aspect is likewise the primary characteristic of romantic -art, a tone which gives the key-note also to the epic poem and drama, -and which is wafted as a breath of soul even around the works of the -plastic arts, since here, too, spirit and soul are desirous of speaking -by means of the plastic shape to soul and mind.</p> - -<p>As regards the <i>division</i> of our subject, which we must now in -conclusion determine for the examination of this our third extensive -domain of artistic production on the lines of its development, we -shall find that the basic notion of the romantic relatively to -its substantive and progressive<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_296" id="Page_296">[Pg 296]</a></span> articulation is comprised most -conveniently in three branches of division we may define as follows.</p> - -<p>The <i>first</i> sphere is the province of <i>religion</i> strictly, in which -the redemption history, the life, death, and resurrection of Christ -constitute the central interest. The principle which is emphasized as -all-important here is that self-involution which mind accomplishes by -negating its immediacy and finitude, overcoming the same, and by means -of this liberation secures its own self-possessed infinity and absolute -self-subsistence in its own kingdom.</p> - -<p>This self-subsistence passes, then, in the <i>second</i> place from the -Divine dwelling of essential Spirit, surrenders its pure exaltation -of finite man to God, in order to enter the <i>temporal world.</i> Here it -is, in the first instance, the subject of consciousness simply, which -has become self-affirmative, and which possesses as the substantive -material of its content, no less than as the interest of its existence, -the virtues of this positive subjectivity, such as honour, love, -fidelity, and bravery, the aims and obligations, in short, of romantic -chivalry.</p> - -<p>The content and form of the <i>third</i> chapter may be generally -indicated as the <i>formal consistency of character.</i> In other words, -if the subjective life has been so far concentrated, that spiritual -independence is its essential characteristic, it follows also that the -<i>particular</i> content, with which such independence is associated as -with what is strictly its own, will also partake of such a character; -this self-subsistence, however, inasmuch as it does not, as was the -case in the sphere appertinent to essential and explicit religious -truth, repose in the substantive core of its life, is only able -to reach a formal type. Conversely the configuration of external -conditions, situations, and events is now also independently free, and -is involved consequently in every sort of capricious adventure. For -this reason we find, to put it in general terms, as the termination of -the romantic, the contingency of the exterior condition and internal -life, and a falling asunder of the two aspects, by reason of which Art -commits an act of suicide, and betrays the fact that conscious life -must now secure forms of loftier significance, than Art alone is able -to offer, in which to grasp and retain truth.</p> -<hr class="r5" /> -<div class="footnote"> - -<p><a name="Footnote_206_206" id="Footnote_206_206"></a><a href="#FNanchor_206_206"><span class="label">[206]</span></a> Throughout, of course, the German word translated in -these paragraphs as mind or spirit is <i>Geist.</i></p></div> - -<div class="footnote"> - -<p><a name="Footnote_207_207" id="Footnote_207_207"></a><a href="#FNanchor_207_207"><span class="label">[207]</span></a> Absolute ideality may perhaps interpret the text more -intelligibly.</p></div> - -<div class="footnote"> - -<p><a name="Footnote_208_208" id="Footnote_208_208"></a><a href="#FNanchor_208_208"><span class="label">[208]</span></a> It is so because as self-identity it distinguishes -itself from everything to which it is related.</p></div> - -<div class="footnote"> - -<p><a name="Footnote_209_209" id="Footnote_209_209"></a><a href="#FNanchor_209_209"><span class="label">[209]</span></a> <i>Das wirkliche Subjekt</i>, Hegel means, of course, -individual man.</p></div> - -<div class="footnote"> - -<p><a name="Footnote_210_210" id="Footnote_210_210"></a><a href="#FNanchor_210_210"><span class="label">[210]</span></a> "Most intimate" would perhaps express the meaning more -clearly.</p></div> - -<div class="footnote"> - -<p><a name="Footnote_211_211" id="Footnote_211_211"></a><a href="#FNanchor_211_211"><span class="label">[211]</span></a> Hegel here gives expression to what is perhaps not -wholly defensible logic, though it may be truly poetic mysticism.</p></div> - -<div class="footnote"> - -<p><a name="Footnote_212_212" id="Footnote_212_212"></a><a href="#FNanchor_212_212"><span class="label">[212]</span></a> I would refer any reader who is inclined to gasp at -this interpretation of Christian revelation to some useful remarks of -Professor Bosanquet in his Preface to his translation, p. XXVIII.</p></div> - -<div class="footnote"> - -<p><a name="Footnote_213_213" id="Footnote_213_213"></a><a href="#FNanchor_213_213"><span class="label">[213]</span></a> <i>Die Ausbreitung dieses Selbstanschauens, -In-sich-und-Bei-sich-seyns</i> <i>des Geistes ist der Frieden.</i> One of -Hegel's terrors for the translator, though the sense is obvious enough.</p></div> - -<div class="footnote"> - -<p><a name="Footnote_214_214" id="Footnote_214_214"></a><a href="#FNanchor_214_214"><span class="label">[214]</span></a> The analysis no doubt has its interest. But among -other difficulties it is not easy to see how the argument, based -as it is on rational grounds, makes for anything but annihilation. -Death is a negation—it, according to the argument, puts an end to -the "process"—what remains then is apparently the evanescence of the -finite spirit. This reference to "happiness" assumes that conscious -individual life continues, which is a mere <i>pelitio principii.</i> If it -continues the former dual aspect would seem to be implied in it. The -analysis of the actual significance of death for Christendom and Greek -paganism retains, of course, its validity.</p></div> - -<div class="footnote"> - -<p><a name="Footnote_215_215" id="Footnote_215_215"></a><a href="#FNanchor_215_215"><span class="label">[215]</span></a> But surely in a sense personal life, if only limited -to Earth's existence, may be, I do not say necessarily is, all the -more valuable. This is an important aspect of the matter which is not -here adequately answered, and it suggests a real grievance against -the extravagant follies of a certain type of Christendom. The present -feeling of the wisest minds of our own time will be inclined to -regard a good deal of Hegel's remarks here as insufficient or lacking -directness. One recalls those significant lines of a great writer but -recently taken from us: -</p> -<p> -<span style="margin-left: 2.5em;">Sensation is a gracious gift</span><br /> -<span style="margin-left: 3.5em;">But were it cramped in station,</span><br /> -<span style="margin-left: 2.5em;">The prayer to have it cast adrift</span><br /> -<span style="margin-left: 3.5em;">Would spout from all sensation.</span><br /> -</p> -<p> -Hegel's point of view seems neither to be that of mysticism nor mere -absorption.</p></div> - -<div class="footnote"> - -<p><a name="Footnote_216_216" id="Footnote_216_216"></a><a href="#FNanchor_216_216"><span class="label">[216]</span></a> "Odyssey," XI, vv. 481-91. But this illustration is at -least evidence of the high value a Greek attached to life on Earth.</p></div> - -<div class="footnote"> - -<p><a name="Footnote_217_217" id="Footnote_217_217"></a><a href="#FNanchor_217_217"><span class="label">[217]</span></a> True enough as an analysis of the Christian -consciousness; but the difficulty above pointed out remains so far as -the writer refers to a future life, which he sometimes appears to do, -sometimes not. Conditions are assumed for human personality of which we -can form no conception.</p></div> - -<div class="footnote"> - -<p><a name="Footnote_218_218" id="Footnote_218_218"></a><a href="#FNanchor_218_218"><span class="label">[218]</span></a> He means it is the negation of that which is itself -a negation, finite existence. The conclusion is of course, as above -suggested, replete with difficulty.</p></div> - -<div class="footnote"> - -<p><a name="Footnote_219_219" id="Footnote_219_219"></a><a href="#FNanchor_219_219"><span class="label">[219]</span></a> That is, I presume, the positive character of natural -conditions; but it may mean its own "affirmative" relation.</p></div> - -<div class="footnote"> - -<p><a name="Footnote_220_220" id="Footnote_220_220"></a><a href="#FNanchor_220_220"><span class="label">[220]</span></a> <i>Auf die Innerlichkeit des Geistes.</i></p></div> - -<div class="footnote"> - -<p><a name="Footnote_221_221" id="Footnote_221_221"></a><a href="#FNanchor_221_221"><span class="label">[221]</span></a> Reason or Spirit are perhaps preferable.</p></div> - -<div class="footnote"> - -<p><a name="Footnote_222_222" id="Footnote_222_222"></a><a href="#FNanchor_222_222"><span class="label">[222]</span></a> The German words are <i>das Innerliche</i> and <i>die -Innigkeit.</i></p></div> - -<div class="footnote"> - -<p><a name="Footnote_223_223" id="Footnote_223_223"></a><a href="#FNanchor_223_223"><span class="label">[223]</span></a> This is obviously not wholly independent of form.</p> - -<hr class="chap" /> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_297" id="Page_297">[Pg 297]</a></span></p></div> - - - - -<h5>CHAPTER I</h5> - -<h4>THE RELIGIOUS DOMAIN OF ROMANTIC ART</h4> - -<p>Inasmuch as romantic art, in the representation of the consciousness -of absolute subjectivity, understanding this as the comprehension of -all truth, the coalescence of mind with its essence—receives its -substantive content in the satisfaction of soul-life, in other words -the reconciliation of God with the world and therein with Himself, it -follows that at this stage the Ideal for the first time is completely -at home. For it was blessedness and self-subsistency, contentment, -repose, and freedom which we declared as most fundamentally defining -the Ideal. Of course, we cannot therefore on this account deduce -the Ideal simply from the notion and reality of romantic art; but -relatively to the classic Ideal the form it receives is entirely -altered. This relation, already in general terms indicated, we must now -before everything else establish in its fully concrete significance, -in order to elucidate the fundamental type of the romantic mode of -presentation. In the classical Ideal the Divine is in one aspect of -it restricted to pure individuality; in another aspect the soul and -spiritual blessedness of particular gods find their exclusive discharge -through the physical medium; and as a third characteristic, for the -reason that the inseparable unity of each individual both essentially -and in its exterior form supplies the principle of the same, the -negativity of the dismemberment implied in human life, that is the -pain of both body and soul, sacrifice, and resignation are unable to -appear as essentially pertinent to these godlike figures. The Divine -of classical art falls, it is true, into an aggregation of gods, -but there is no organic and essential self-division, no universally -proclaimed essence such as we find in the particular presentment of -man whether<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_298" id="Page_298">[Pg 298]</a></span> in form and spirit, whether empirically or subjectively -considered; and just as little has it confronting it, as being itself -the Absolute in invisible form, a world of evil, sin, and ignorance, -together with the task of resolving such contradictions in harmony, and -only by thus growing on level terms with the very truth and divine out -of this reconciliation. In the notion of the absolute subjectivity, -on the contrary, this opposition between substantive universality and -personality is inherent, an opposition, whose consummated mediation -the subjective ideality perfects with its substance, exalting thereby -the substantive presence to the articulate and absolute subject of -self-knowledge and volition. But there is, <i>secondly</i>, appertinent -to the reality of the subjective condition conceived as mind the -profounder contradiction of a finite world, through whose abrogation -as finite, and by whose resultant reconciliation with the Absolute -the Infinite by virtue of its own absolute activity makes its proper -being self-subsistent, and so for the first time exists as absolute -Spirit. The appearance of this actuality on the <i>terrain</i>, and in the -configuration of the human spirit receives consequently, in respect to -its <i>beauty</i>, a totally different mode of relation to that presented -by classical art. Greek beauty unfolds the inward aspect of spiritual -individuality solely as it is envisaged by means of its bodily shape, -actions, and events, wholly expressed in what is exterior, and living -wholly therein. For romantic art, on the contrary, it is absolutely -necessary that the soul, albeit envisaged in the exterior medium, -should at the same time demonstrate its capacity of self-withdrawal -from the tenement of the body and self-substantive life. The bodily -frame can therefore now only express the inwardness of mind, in so far -as it makes it plain that it is not in this material existence, but -in itself, that the soul discovers its congruent reality. On account -of this beauty is now no longer an idealization in respect to the -objective form, but rather the ideal and essential configuration of the -soul itself; it is in short a beauty of spiritual ideality, that is -the specific mode of such, as every content is informed and elaborated -within the temple of the subjective world, and without retaining the -external medium in this its permeation with Spirit. For the reason, -then, that by this means the interest<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_299" id="Page_299">[Pg 299]</a></span> disappears, which consists in -clarifying real existence to the point of our classical unity, and -is concentrated in the contrary direction of wafting a new breath of -beauty through the unseen content of the spiritual itself, art ceases -to retain the old solicitude for what is exterior at all. It accepts -the same directly as it may chance to find it, leaving it to take -whatever form may happen to please it. The reconciliation with the -Absolute is in the Romantic an act of the inward life, which no doubt -is embodied externally, but which does not retain that exterior in -its material realization as its essential content and object. We may -observe that in close association with this indifference towards the -idealizing union of soul and body, and in its relation to the external -treatment of the more predominant individuality of a sitter, we find -the art of <i>portraiture</i>, which does not entirely erase particular -traits and lines, as they are found in Nature, and her inevitable -deficiencies—defects inseparable from finite effects—in order to -replace them with something more adequate. Generally speaking even -here there is a certain limit to the licence given to Nature in this -respect; but to the general aspect of form in the first instance it is -quite indifferent; and no attempt is made to exclude wholly from it the -accidental impurities of finite and sensuous existence.</p> - -<p>We may adjoin a further quite sufficient reason for the imperative -character of this radical definition of romantic art from another point -of view. The classic Ideal, where we find it at the culminating point -of its very truth, is self-exclusive, self-subsistent, retiring and not -susceptible<a name="FNanchor_224_224" id="FNanchor_224_224"></a><a href="#Footnote_224_224" class="fnanchor">[224]</a> in its nature, an orbed individual totality, which -repels all else from itself. Its conformation is uniquely its own; its -life is bound up in that and that exclusively, and it will harbour -no affinity with what is purely empirical and contingent. Whoever, -therefore, approaches an ideal such as this as spectator, is unable -to appropriate its existence as an embodiment strictly akin to that -of his own presence. The figures of the eternal gods, albeit human, -do not belong to our mortality, for these gods have not themselves -experienced the infirmities of finite existence, but are directly -exalted above them. Their affinity with what is empirical and relative -is interrupted. The infinite subjectivity, what<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_300" id="Page_300">[Pg 300]</a></span> we call the Absolute -of romantic art, is on the contrary not absorbed in its presentment; -it is rather carried into its <i>own</i> domain, and for this very reason -retains such external aspect as it possesses not so much <i>for itself</i> -as for the contemplation of others, as, in short, an exterior presence -which is freely offered for this purpose. This externality must further -appear in the form of common fact, the human as our senses perceive -it, since it is through that that God Himself descends to the level -of finite and temporal existence, in order to mediate and reconcile -the absolute antithesis, which is inherent in the notion of the -Absolute. For this reason our empirical humanity also contains in its -bodily presence an aspect, which unfolds to man a bond of affinity and -kinship, by virtue whereof he is able to contemplate even his direct -natural presence with assurance; and he can do so because the Divine -incarnation does not, with the severity of the classical type, thrust -on one side the particular and contingent, but presents to his vision -that which he himself possesses, or that which he recognizes and loves -in others around him. It is just this homeliness incidental to what we -ordinarily meet with which attracts and enables romantic art to entrust -itself to the external aspect of reality. Inasmuch, then, as the -externality which is turned adrift is called upon, through this very -abandonment, to suggest the beauty of soul, the lofty pretension of its -spirituality and the sacred colour of the emotional life, so, too, at -the same time, it is a condition of its doing so that it be absorbed -itself within the ideal realm of mind and its absolute content, and -that it appropriate the same.</p> - -<p>To sum up finally what is implied in this act of surrender we may -assert that it consists in the general conception, that in romantic art -the infinite subjectivity does not abide in solitary self-sufficiency, -as the Greek god did, living in the full perfection and blessedness -of his self-exclusion; rather it moves out of itself in relation to -somewhat else, which, however, is its own substance, in which it -discovers itself again and continues all the time in union with itself. -This condition of self-unity in some other that is yet its own is the -real form of beauty appropriate to romantic art, the Ideal of the same, -which receives for its mode and envisagement what is, in its essence, -subjective ideality or inwardness,<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_301" id="Page_301">[Pg 301]</a></span> soul-life and its attendant -emotions. The romantic Ideal expresses, therefore, the relation to -another spiritual correlative, which is so closely associated with -the ideal possessions of the first one, that it is only by virtue of -this further one that the soul lives in the complete wealth of its own -kingdom. This essential life of the soul in another is, when expressed -in terms of emotion, the inwardness of love.</p> - -<p>We may consequently affirm <i>lave</i> to be the general content of the -romantic, so far as the sphere of religion is concerned. Love, however, -only receives its truly ideal configuration when it expresses the -<i>positive</i> reconcilement of Spirit in its immediacy. Before, however, -we shall be in a position to examine this stage of the fairest and -most ideal spiritual satisfaction, we must first pass in review <i>the -process of negation</i>, which the absolute Subject enters in overcoming -the finiteness and immediacy of its human envisagement, a process which -is divulged in the life, death, and suffering of God for the world and -humanity, and its possible reconcilement with God. And, secondly, we -have on the other side, humanity, which is called upon conversely on -its own account to pass through the very same process in order to make -actual the reconciliation which is implicitly contained in its nature. -Midway within the steps of this process, in which the <i>negative</i> aspect -of the sensuous and spiritual passage 011 to death and the grave -constitutes the central act of achievement, we shall find that the -expression of <i>affirmative</i> blessedness is conspicuous, which in this -sphere characterizes art's most beautiful creations. For the better -division of this first chapter we may examine its subject-matter as it -falls into three distinct heads of inquiry.</p> - -<p><i>First</i>, we have the redemption-history of Christ; the phasal moments -of absolute Spirit presented in the person of God Himself, in so far as -He becomes man, and takes to Himself an actual existence in the world -of finitude and its concrete conditions, and in this to start with -isolated existence gives visible shape to the Absolute itself.</p> - -<p><i>Secondly</i>, we shall consider love in its positive presentment as the -feeling of reconciliation between the human and the Divine; in other -words the Holy Family, the maternal love of Mary, the love of Christ -and that of his disciples.</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_302" id="Page_302">[Pg 302]</a></span></p> - -<p><i>Thirdly</i>, we have the community before us. Here it is the Spirit -of God as present by virtue of the conversion of soul and the -mortification of the natural and finite sense, in short, the return of -man to God, a return in which penances and pains mediate in the first -instance this union of God and man.</p> - -<h6>1. THE REDEMPTION-HISTORY OF CHRIST</h6> - -<p>The reconciliation of God with His own substance, history in its -absolute significance, or, in one word, the process of realization, is -made visible to our senses and assured to our minds by the revelation -of God in the world. The content of this reconcilement as expressed -in the most direct way is the coalescence in unity of the absolute -essence of reality with the individual subject of human consciousness. -An individual man is God and God is an individual man. In this truth -is implied the fact that the human spirit <i>intrinsically</i>, that is, -relatively to its notion and essence, is Spirit in truth; and every -particular individual in virtue of the humanity he connotes possesses -the infinite vocation no less than the infinite significance of being -an object of God and in union with God. But along with this and of -a like importance the obligation is imposed on man to realize this -notion, which, in the first instance, he merely possesses under the -implication of his nature. In other words, he has to place before -himself and attain to this union with God as the seal of his existence. -Only when he has thus consummated his proper destiny does he become -essentially free and infinite Spirit. This he can only do in so far as -that unity is itself the origination, the eternal ground-root of the -human and Divine nature. The goal is here the explicit beginning of the -process, namely, the presupposition for the religious consciousness -exhibited in romantic art, that God is Himself man and flesh, that He -has become this particular human individual, in whom the reconciliation -consequently no longer remains as only implicit, so that it is merely -to be inferred from its <i>notional</i> existence, but asserts itself in -<i>objective</i> existence also before the perception of human sense as this -particular and actually existing man. The importance<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_303" id="Page_303">[Pg 303]</a></span> of this aspect of -<i>particularity</i> consists in this that it enables all other individuals -to find in the same the picture of his own reconcilement with God; -it is now no longer a mere possibility, but a fact which has on this -very account appeared as really accomplished in this one person. -Inasmuch, however, as this unity, conceived as the ideal reconciliation -of opposed factors of one process, is no immediately unified mode of -being, it is inevitable, in the <i>second</i> place, that the process of -Spirit as exemplified in this <i>one</i> individual—the process, that -is, by means of which consciousness is for the first time Spirit in -Truth—should receive the form of its existence in the history of this -very person. This history of Spirit attaining its consummation in one -personal life consists simply in all that we have already adverted to; -that is to say, the particular man casts on one side his singularity -both in its bodily and spiritual presence, in other words he suffers -and dies, but furthermore through the agony of death rises again out of -death and ascends as glorified God, very and real Spirit, who now, it -is true, has entered actual existence as this particular person, yet is -with equal truth only very God as Spirit in His community.</p> - -<p>(<i>a</i>) This history furnishes the fundamental material for the romantic -art of the religious consciousness, in its attitude to which, however, -art, taken simply as Art, is to some extent a superfluity. For the -main thing here is spiritual conviction, the feeling and conception -of this eternal truth, and <i>the faith</i> which is essential evidence to -itself of the truth, and becomes in consequence a vital possession of -the ideality of that conception. In other words, faith in its developed -condition consists in the immediate conviction that it has confronting -soul, in the organic movement of this history, the <i>truth</i> itself. If, -however, the consciousness of truth is the main point of importance it -follows that the <i>beauty</i> of the artistic reflection and presentation -is of incidental value to which we may be comparatively indifferent, -for the truth is present to mind quite independently of art.</p> - -<p>(<i>b</i>) From another point of view, however, the religious content -comprises at the same time within its compass a certain aspect of -this process, by virtue of which it not merely admits of artistic -treatment, but, in a specific relation, admits of it as <i>necessary.</i> In -the religious conception<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_304" id="Page_304">[Pg 304]</a></span> of romantic art, as we have more than once -explained it, it is an inseparable concomitant of the content that -it carries anthropomorphism to the verge of an extreme; and this is -so because it is precisely this content which possesses for its main -<i>centrum</i> the complete coalescence of the Absolute and Divine with the -human consciousness as a visible part of sensuous reality, in other -words, as envisaged in the external bodily frame of man, and further, -is compelled to represent the Divine in the form of individuality such -as is associated with the deficiencies of Nature and the mode of finite -phenomena. In this respect Art supplies to the consciousness which -seeks to envisage the Divine manifestation, the definite presence of -an individual and real human figure, a concrete image, moreover, of -the exterior traits of events, in which the birth, life, sufferings, -death, resurrection and ascension of Christ are more widely circulated -to the glory of God; so that it is exclusively by Art that the real -and visible presence of the Divine is for ever renewed over again in a -permanent form.</p> - -<p>(<i>c</i>) In so far as, in this Divine manifestation, an emphasis is laid -on this, namely, that God is essentially a particular individual to -the exclusion of others, and does not merely present to us the union -of Divine and human consciousness in its universal significance, but -rather as that of this <i>particular</i> man, to that extent, the very -nature of the content makes it inevitable that all the features of -contingency and particularity incidental to finite existence assert -themselves, from which the beauty which characterized the consummation -of the classic Ideal had purified itself. That which the free notion -of beauty had removed from itself as unfitting, in other words, the -non-ideal, is in the present case accepted as a necessary aspect, -which actually originates in the movement of the content itself and is -consequently made explicit.</p> - -<p>(<i>α</i>) And it follows from this that when the person of Christ is -selected for the object of art, as so frequently occurs, artists, no -matter when or where, have taken the very worst course of all who -create in their presentment of Christ an Ideal in the meaning and mode -of the classical Ideal. Such heads or figures of Christ may no doubt -display earnestness, repose, and ethical worth: but the true Christ -presentment<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_305" id="Page_305">[Pg 305]</a></span> should rather possess on the one hand soul-intensity -and pre-eminently spirituality in its <i>widest</i> comprehension, on the -other, intimate personality and <i>individual</i> distinction. Both these -contrasted aspects are inconsistent with that blissful repose in the -sensuous environment of our humanity. To combine these two <i>termini</i> -of artistic reproduction, expression and form, as above defined, is a -matter of the greatest difficulty, and painters especially have almost -always got themselves into difficulties when they diverged from the -traditional type<a name="FNanchor_225_225" id="FNanchor_225_225"></a><a href="#Footnote_225_225" class="fnanchor">[225]</a>.</p> - -<p>Earnestness and depth of consciousness should no doubt be prominent -in the expression of such heads, but the specific features and lines -both of countenance and figure ought as little to be of a simply -ideal beauty as they are entitled to fall short in the direction of -the commonplace and the ugly, or erroneously to aspire after the -bare pretensions of the Sublime. The truest success in respect to -the external figure will be found in a mean between the directness -of Nature's detail and the ideal of beauty. Rightly to hit on this -just mean is difficult. It is pre-eminently in this that the ability, -taste, and genius of an artist will assert itself. And in general we -may assert that in all artistic execution of this character—putting -on one side entirely the different nature of the content, which is -inseparable from religious faith—there is more scope offered for the -exercise of the artist's private judgment than is the case when dealing -with the classic Ideal. In classical art the artist seeks to present -the spiritual and Divine immediately in the lines of the bodily shape -itself, in the organism of the human figure; the lines of the human -form, therefore, in this ideal divergence from what is ordinarily met -with in finite existence, are fundamentally necessary to the interest. -In the kind of art we are now discussing the configuration remains that -of ordinary experience; its specific lines are up to a certain point -unessential, detail, in short, that may indifferently be treated in -divers ways and with greater artistic licence. The supreme interest, -therefore, is concentrated, on the one hand, in the mode and manner -whereby our artist makes that which is spiritual and ideal within the -content under<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_306" id="Page_306">[Pg 306]</a></span> the mode of Spirit itself shine forth through this -envisagement of ordinary experience; and, on the other hand, in the -individual discretion exercised in the execution, the technical means -and shifts employed, by virtue of which he is able to impart to his -creations the breath of spiritual life and to bring home this finer -essence to our hearts and senses.</p> - -<p>(<i>β</i>) With regard to the further aspect of the content we have already -pointed out that it is referable to the history of the Absolute under -the mode that the same is deducible from the notion of Spirit itself; -a history which makes objective in the real world bodily and spiritual -singularity as infused with its own essential and universal nature. -For the reconciliation of our individual consciousness with God -does not immediately appear as an original harmony, but rather as a -harmony which only is modulated from infinite pain, from resignation, -sacrifice, and the mortification of the finite, sensuous, and -particular. We see here the finite and the infinite brought into unity; -and this reconciliation only asserts itself in its true profundity, -intimacy, and power by means of the grossness and severity of the -contradiction which yearns for resolution. We may therefore without -fear assert that the entire asperity and dissonance of the suffering, -torture, and agony, which such a contradiction brings in its train, -is inseparable from the very nature of spiritual life, whose final -consolation constitutes here the content.</p> - -<p>This process of Spirit is, if accepted frankly for all it implies and -unfolds, the essence, the notion of Spirit absolutely. It consequently -determines for conscious life that <i>universal history</i><a name="FNanchor_226_226" id="FNanchor_226_226"></a><a href="#Footnote_226_226" class="fnanchor">[226]</a> which is -for ever repeated in every individual consciousness. For it is nothing -less or more than this consciousness as the universal mind or Spirit -is explicated in the multiplicity of individual life, reality and -existence. In the first instance, however, for the reason that the -essential significance of the spiritual process is concentrated in that -mode of reality which is purely individual, this universal history -comes before us itself merely in the form of <i>one</i> person, to which it -is conjoined as its own, as the history,<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_307" id="Page_307">[Pg 307]</a></span> that is, of his birth, his -suffering, death, and return from death; at the same time there is the -further significance attached to this personal history, namely, that it -is the history of universal and absolute Spirit itself.</p> - -<p>The supreme turning-point of this life of God is the putting aside of -individual existence as the life of a <i>particular</i> man simply—the -story of the Passion, the suffering on the Cross, the Calvary of -Spirit, the agony of death. In so far as the content here comprises -the fact that the external and bodily form—immediate existence in -its personal mode—is, in the pain of its inherent contradiction, -propounded in this aspect of negation in order that Spirit may secure -its truth and its blessedness by the sacrifice of the sensuous and its -individual singularity, to that extent we reach the extreme line of -division between it as an artistic creation and the classic or plastic -Ideal. From one point of view no doubt the earthly body and the frailty -of human Nature is expressly exalted and honoured in the fact that -it is God Himself who is made manifest within it. On the other hand, -however, it is just this human and bodily side which is posited as -negative, and declares itself in its pain. In the classic Ideal the -undisturbed harmony in no way vanishes before the co-essential Spirit. -The main incidents of that Passion, the mocking of Christ, the crowning -with thorns, the carrying of the cross, the final death on the same in -the agony of a torturing and tedious death, are wholly incompatible -with the presentment of the Greek type of beauty. The lofty aspect in -such situations as these is the essential holiness implied in them, the -depth of the Spirit's inmost, the eternal significance of the agony in -its relation to the spiritual process, the endurance and Divine repose.</p> - -<p>The personal environment of this sublime figure is in part composed -of friends and in part of enemies. The friends are throughout no -ideal creations, but relatively to the notion<a name="FNanchor_227_227" id="FNanchor_227_227"></a><a href="#Footnote_227_227" class="fnanchor">[227]</a>, particular -individualities typical of ordinary men, which the impulse of Spirit -attaches to Christ: the enemies, on the other hand, by virtue of the -fact that they place themselves in hostility to God, judge, mock, -put to torture, and crucify Him, are presented to us as spiritually -evil, and<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_308" id="Page_308">[Pg 308]</a></span> this conception of their wickedness of heart and enmity -to God brings in its train on its exterior side ugliness, grossness, -barbarity, the rage and distortion of Spirit. In all these respects, -in contrast with the classical beauty we have before us in such -representations the non-beautiful as an inevitable concomitant.</p> - -<p>(<i>γ</i>) The process of death, however, in the Divine nature is only -to be regarded as a point of transition, by means of which the -self-reconcilement of Spirit is effected; and the aspects of the Divine -and human, the out and out universal and the phenomenal individuality, -to mediate the division of which is the main object in view, are -positively suffered to coalesce. This positive affirmation, which is -the underlying root and origination of the process, is consequently -also forced to exhibit itself in a like positive way. As emphatic -situations in the Christ-history the resurrection and ascension supply -conspicuously the very means to put that affirmation in the clearest -light. In more isolated fashion we have over and above this for the -same purpose those occasions in which Christ appears to His own as -teacher. Here, however, plastic art is confronted with an exceptional -situation of difficulty. For in a measure it is Spirit in its purity, -which is to be presented in this very impalpable ideality, and in a -measure, too, it is nothing less than absolute Spirit, which in the -full pregnancy of its infinitude and universality is affirmatively -propounded in union with an individual consciousness and exalted above -immediate existence; and yet notwithstanding such preconceptions it has -undertaken the task to envisage for sense in the bodily configuration -of this person the entire expression of the infinite and innermost -spiritual profundity which it refers to him<a name="FNanchor_228_228" id="FNanchor_228_228"></a><a href="#Footnote_228_228" class="fnanchor">[228]</a>.</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_309" id="Page_309">[Pg 309]</a></span></p> - - -<h6>2. RELIGIOUS LOVE</h6> - -<p>Mind in its ultimate and most complete explication as reason is, as -such, not the immediate object of art. Its highest and most essentially -realized reconciliation can only find such satisfied consummation in -the intellectual medium as such, that is to say, the ideal medium which -is withdrawn from the reach of artistic expression; for absolute Truth -stands on a higher level than the show of beauty, which is unable -to break away from the sensuous and phenomenal. If, then, Spirit is -to receive an existence as <i>Spirit</i> in its positive reconciliation -through the medium of art, an existence which is apprehended not merely -as ideal, in other words, as pure thought, but can be <i>felt</i> and -<i>envisaged</i>, it follows that the only mode left to us, which supplies -this two-fold condition of spirituality on the one hand and of its -capability of being conceived and presented by art on the other, is -that of the inner realm of Spirit itself, what we understand by the -soul and its emotional experience. And the condition of that kingdom -which alone fully answers to the notion of free Spirit brought into -peace and joy with itself is <i>Love.</i></p> - -<p>(<i>a</i>) In other words, if we look at the content, we shall see that its -articulation is in its important features similar to the fundamental -notion of absolute Spirit, the return of a reconciled presence from -its Other to itself. This Other in the sense of the Other, in which -Spirit continues by itself, can only be itself something spiritual, -or rather a spiritual personality. The true essence of love consists -in the surrender of the self-consciousness, in the forgetting oneself -in another self, yet for all that to have and possess oneself for the -first time in this very act of surrender and oblivion. This mediation -of Spirit with itself and surcharge of its own to the unit of totality -is the Absolute, not, however, of course, under the mode in which the -Absolute coalesces with itself as merely singular and thereby finite -individuality in another finite subject; rather the content of the -spiritual individuality which is here self-mediated in another is the -Absolute itself. It is, in short, Spirit which is only the knowledge -and volition of its own substance as the Absolute by being in another, -and which receives therewith the fruition of such knowledge.</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_310" id="Page_310">[Pg 310]</a></span></p> - -<p>(<i>b</i>) More closely regarded this content as love has the form of -self-concentrated emotion, which, instead of making its content more -explicit, that is to say, presenting it to consciousness in its -definite terms and universality, rather converges the infinite breadth -of the same directly to one focus in the clear profundity of the soul, -without further unfolding in other directions for the imagination the -wealth which it essentially includes. By this means a content of equal -significance, which would be inconformable to artistic presentation, -is fresh from the mint of its pure and ideal universality, is none the -less capable of being the subject-matter of art in this individual -existence of subjective emotion; for while under a mode such as this it -is not on the one hand compelled to accept an articulation of perfect -clarity by reason of its still undisclosed depth, which is the obvious -characteristic of soul-life, yet on the other hand it receives under -this mode a medium that it is possible for art to make use of. For -soul-life, heart, feeling, however self-contained and spiritual they -may remain, have none the less a bond of affiliation with the sensuous -and material, so that they are able also on the outside show of things -through the bodily members themselves, through a look, the facial -expression, or in a still more spiritual way through the voice tones -or a word to disclose the inmost life and existence of Spirit. But -this exterior medium is in such a case only acceptable in so far as it -strictly expresses this most intimate life of soul in ways that reflect -the inward nature of the soul itself.</p> - -<p>(<i>c</i>) We defined the notion of the Ideal to be the reconciliation of -the inward life with its reality; we may now in like manner point -to the emotion of love as <i>the Ideal</i> of romantic art in the sphere -of the religious consciousness. It is <i>spiritual</i> beauty in its -pure emanation. The classic Ideal also exhibited the mediation and -reconcilement of Spirit with its Other. But here the opposing factor -of Spirit was the exterior medium suffused with that Spirit, it was -its bodily organism. In love, on the contrary, the opposing presence -of that which is spiritual is not the phenomenon of Nature, but a -spiritual consciousness itself, another subject of such; and the -realization of Spirit is consequently effected by Spirit itself in its -own kingdom, in that medium which is uniquely its own. It follows from -this that love in<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_311" id="Page_311">[Pg 311]</a></span> this its positive self-fruition and essentially -tranquillized and blessed realization is ideal, but before everything -else <i>spiritual</i> beauty, which can only be expressed for the sake of -the ideal virtue it possesses and further only in and as a part of -the inmost shrine of the soul. For that Spirit, which is present in -<i>spirit</i> to itself and is immediately aware of its own, which withal -possesses what is spiritual for the substance and bottom of its very -existence, abides in intimacy with itself, and, best definition of all, -is the inward being of Love.</p> - -<p>(<i>α</i>) God is Love; and consequently it is this most profound essence -which, in this form native to artistic presentation, is thus -apprehended and presented in the person of Christ. Christ is, however, -<i>Divine love</i> in the sense that from one aspect of it declares God -Himself as its object, that is, God in the mode of His invisible -essence, and from another it as truly reveals humanity under the seal -of its redemption; and for this reason it is not so much in Him<a name="FNanchor_229_229" id="FNanchor_229_229"></a><a href="#Footnote_229_229" class="fnanchor">[229]</a> -that the passage of one individual into another particular individual -is made manifest in His love, as the fact that we have here the <i>idea</i> -of Love itself in its universality, in other words, the Absolute, -the spirit of Truth in the medium and mode of emotion. With the -universality of its object the expression of Love is also universalized -in pursuance of which the purely individual concentration of heart and -soul is not made the important point, just as among the Greeks in the -ancient Titan Eros and Venus Urania we find, though, of course, in an -entirely different connection, that it is the universal idea rather -than the individual side of personal form and feeling which is the -factor emphasized. Only when Christ is, in the presentation of romantic -art, rather conceived as at the same time the isolate self-absorbed -personality himself, is the expression of love clothed in the form of -individual inwardness, and even then it is, of course, always exalted -and uplifted by the universality of the content.</p> - -<p>(<i>β</i>) The kind of love, however, which in this sphere of art is most -within its reach and is generally the most successful object of the -romantic and religious imagination, is the love of Mary, the mother's -love. It stands closest to Nature's reality, is very human, and yet -entirely spiritual, without either the interest or the egotism of -sensual desire, not sensuous<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_312" id="Page_312">[Pg 312]</a></span> and yet present inward bliss in its -absolute condition of fruition. It is a love that has no longing -in it, not friendship, for friendship, albeit also so rich in soul -quality, requires a substantive content, an essential material as the -associating object. A mother's love, on the contrary, possesses without -any mutuality<a name="FNanchor_230_230" id="FNanchor_230_230"></a><a href="#Footnote_230_230" class="fnanchor">[230]</a> of aim or interests an immediate basis in the -natural maternal bond. But in this particular case the mother's love -is just as little restricted to the purely natural affiliation. Mary -possesses in the child which she has carried under her heart and borne -with travail the perfected knowledge and feeling of her very self, and -this selfsame child, the blood of her blood, is also in equal degree -exalted above her, and yet for all that she is conscious that this -higher belongs to herself, and is precisely that she gains in her act -of self-oblivion and possession. The natural intimacy of the mother's -love is absolutely spiritualized, it receives for its very embodiment -the Divine; but this spiritual coherence remains lowly and unaware, -permeated in a wonderful manner with the unity of Nature and the -emotion of womanhood. It is the <i>blessed</i> mother's love, and pertains -only to the <i>one</i> mother, who first was recipient of its joy<a name="FNanchor_231_231" id="FNanchor_231_231"></a><a href="#Footnote_231_231" class="fnanchor">[231]</a>. It -is quite true that even this love is not without its pain, but the pain -is merely the grief of loss, the lament over the suffering, dying, and -dead son, and, as we shall find it at a later stage<a name="FNanchor_232_232" id="FNanchor_232_232"></a><a href="#Footnote_232_232" class="fnanchor">[232]</a>, has nothing -to do with the injustice and torture suffered from a force without, or -with the infinite conflict with sin, still less with agonies and pangs -that arise in the soul. The inwardness of soul such as we have analysed -is the beauty of Spirit, the Ideal, the human identification of man -with God, with Spirit, with Truth; oblivion in its pure selflessness, -the surrender of the ego, which, however, in this surrender, is from -beginning to end at unity with that in which it is absorbed, and it is -in this coalescence that the feeling of blessedness is consummated.</p> - -<p>Under such a fair aspect we have maternal love embodied in romantic -art, and it is at the same time a picture of Spirit<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_313" id="Page_313">[Pg 313]</a></span> itself, because -Spirit is only apprehensible by art in the form of feeling; and the -feeling of that union of the individual with God in its most original, -most real, and most vivid form is only present in the mother's love of -the Madonna. It must inevitably form the subject-matter of art, if in -the representation of this, the sphere of the religious imagination, -the Ideal, the affirmative reconciliation in its joy is not to -fall short of its aim. There has consequently been a time when the -maternal love of the Blessed Virgin has been placed as the highest -and holiest of Earth's possessions, and as such has been revered and -presented to mankind. When, however, Spirit is brought before the human -consciousness in its own native element, separated, that is, from all -underlying emotion, the free mediation of Spirit that is built up on -such a foundation can alone be regarded as the free road to Truth; -and consequently we find that in Protestantism, as contrasted to this -worship of Mary whether in art or belief, it is the Holy Spirit, and -the inmost mediation of Spirit which has become the loftier truth.</p> - -<p>(<i>γ</i>) <i>Thirdly</i>, and in conclusion, the positive reconciliation of -spiritual life is embodied in the feelings of Christ's own disciples, -the women and friends who follow him. Such are for the most part -characters who have personally taken on themselves the severity of the -idea of Christianity, hand iii hand with their Divine friend, by virtue -of the friendship, teaching, and sermons of Christ, without passing -through the external and inward pangs of spiritual conversion, who have -carried it forward, made themselves masters both of it and themselves, -and in the depth of their hearts remain strong in the same. From such, -no doubt, the immediate unity and intimacy of that mother's love in a -measure vanishes; but they still possess as the bond which unites them -the presence of Christ, the common service to a great life which they -share, and the direct impulse of Spirit<a name="FNanchor_233_233" id="FNanchor_233_233"></a><a href="#Footnote_233_233" class="fnanchor">[233]</a>.</p> - - -<h6>3. THE SPIRIT OF THE COMMUNITY</h6> - -<p>In making our passage over to a concluding stage of the subject under -discussion we can hardly do better than associate it with that which we -have already touched upon in connection<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_314" id="Page_314">[Pg 314]</a></span> with the history of Christ. -The immediate existence of Christ, as this particular man, who is God, -is assumed to be wiped out, in other words, the truth itself asserts -itself that in the manifestation of God as man, the true reality of -God thus envisaged is not immediate sensuous existence but Spirit. -The reality of the Absolute regarded as infinite subjectivity<a name="FNanchor_234_234" id="FNanchor_234_234"></a><a href="#Footnote_234_234" class="fnanchor">[234]</a> is -simply Spirit itself; God is in knowledge, in the element of the inner -life, and only there. This absolute existence of God, as absolutely -ideal to the same extent as it is subjective<a name="FNanchor_235_235" id="FNanchor_235_235"></a><a href="#Footnote_235_235" class="fnanchor">[235]</a> <i>universality</i>, does -not therefore admit of the limitations of this particular individual, -who has in the story of his life made manifest the reconciliation -between the Divine and human self-consciousness, but on the contrary -is enlarged to the full measure of the human consciousness which is -reconciled to God, that is, in general terms to our <i>humanity</i>, which -exists as an aggregate of many individuals. In his independence, -however, taken, that is, as a specific personality, man is not under -any immediate mode the Divine, but on the contrary finite and human, -which only in so far as it really propounds itself as a negation, which -it essentially is, and thereby annuls itself in this negative aspect, -can attain to the reconcilement with God. It is only by virtue of this -deliverance from the frailty of finitude that our humanity declares -itself as the vehicle of the existence of the absolute Spirit, as the -spirit of the community, in which the union of the human and Divine -Spirit within the bounds of human reality itself, in the sense of its -realized mediation, carries into fulfilment what essentially, if we -look at it in the light of the notion of Spirit, it is from the first -in that very union.</p> - -<p>The principal modes which are of importance in respect to this new -content of romantic art may be distinguished as follows:</p> - -<p>The individual, who in his separation from God lives in a condition -of sinfulness and conflict with the immediacy and frailty of finite -existence, possesses the eternal destiny to come into reconciliation -with himself and God. Inasmuch, however, as we find that in the -redemption-history of Christ the negative relation of immediate -singularity is affirmed and<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_315" id="Page_315">[Pg 315]</a></span> declared an essential feature in the -spiritual process, so, too, every particular individual is only through -a conversion from the natural state and his finite personality uplifted -to the free condition and into the peace of God.</p> - -<p>This abrogation of finitude asserts itself in a threefold manner as -follows:</p> - -<p><i>First</i>, as the repetition in <i>actual life</i> of the history of the -Passion, a repetition of real bodily suffering—martyrdom.</p> - -<p><i>Secondly</i>, the above conversion is removed to the <i>inmost</i> life of -soul, as spiritual mediation by means of repentance, penance, and -conversion.</p> - -<p><i>Thirdly</i>, and finally the manifestation of the Divine is so conceived -in the world of Nature's reality that the ordinary course of Nature -and the natural mode of occurrences as they otherwise take place is -arrested, in order to display the might and presence of the Divine. -Wonder or miracle is consequently the form of presentation.</p> - - -<p>(<i>a</i>) <i>The Martyrs</i></p> - -<p>The earliest mode under which the spirit of the community makes itself -actively present in the human consciousness is effected when man forms -a mirror in himself of the Divine process and so makes himself a new -form of existence for the eternal Life<a name="FNanchor_236_236" id="FNanchor_236_236"></a><a href="#Footnote_236_236" class="fnanchor">[236]</a> of God. Here we find once -more that the expression of that immediate and positive reconciliation -disappears, inasmuch as man can only attain to this by abrogating his -finite existence. Everything, therefore, that was of central importance -in the first stage returns to us again here only in an aggravated -degree, because the incompatibility and unworthiness of our humanity -is here presupposed, and to remedy this defect is assumed to be man's -supreme and unique duty.</p> - -<p>(<i>α</i>) The specific content of this phase is consequently the endurance -of torments, and along with such the individual's willing renunciation, -sacrifice, and self-imposed renunciation with the express aim of -arousing sufferings, tortures, and anguish of every kind in order that -Spirit may reveal itself therein, and feel itself in union with the -fruition and<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_316" id="Page_316">[Pg 316]</a></span> blessedness of its heaven<a name="FNanchor_237_237" id="FNanchor_237_237"></a><a href="#Footnote_237_237" class="fnanchor">[237]</a>. The negative aspect of -pain is an object in itself for the true martyr, and the greatness of -the revelation is such that it can treat with indifference the awful -aspect of that which man has thus suffered, and the dreadful nature of -that to which he submits himself. The first thing, then, which will -be brought beneath the ruthless mace of negation in order that the -individual who still experiences this drought of the soul may wean -himself from the world and become sanctified, will be his <i>natural</i> -existence, his life, the satisfaction of the most essential necessaries -of his bodily existence. The main subject-matter therefore of the -type we are now dealing with will be torments of the body, sufferings -which have been perpetrated on the believer either by his enemies and -persecutors out of hatred and persecution, or have been deliberately -accepted by himself on principle by way of expiation. In both cases -the individual accepts them in the full fanaticism of his readiness -to endure, not, that is to say, as an injustice to himself, but as a -blessing through which alone he is enabled to break down the walls of -what he feels to be his sinful flesh, heart, and soul, and so obtain -reconcilement with his God.</p> - -<p>In so far, however, as this conversion of the soul can only manifest -itself in such situations, in atrocities and awful treatment of the -bodily frame the beauty of the presentation of such subjects may be -very readily impaired; and, in fact, we may say that the treatment -of all subjects of this kind is a perilous undertaking for art. For, -on the one hand, it is obvious that individuals here, impressed as -they are wholly with the hall-mark of finite existence, and its -inevitable blemishes and defects, will have to be represented in an -entirely different atmosphere from that we claimed for the history of -Christ's Passion; and, from a further point of view, we unfortunately -meet with unheard of agonies and horrors in such cases, distortion, -and dislocation of limbs, bodily torments, scaffolds, decapitation, -burning or roasting in oil, flaying alive, and every other sort<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_317" id="Page_317">[Pg 317]</a></span> of -frightful, repugnant, and loathsome abuse of the body, such as lie -much too remote from beauty for any sane art to think of selecting -them for its subject-matter. The artistic dexterity of the artist may, -in such cases, no doubt, so far as execution is concerned, be of the -highest class; but, at best, such manual dexterity will merely possess -a personal interest, we may indeed find before us the technique of an -admirable painter; but it will be equally obvious that all his efforts -have been unable to produce out of such material a harmonious work of -art.</p> - -<p>(<i>β</i>) For these reasons it will be necessary that the artistic -presentation of this negative process should emphasize another aspect -of it, which stands out thereby above this agony of the body and soul, -and establishes in relief the positive presence of reconciliation. -This is just that essential reconcilement of Spirit which is finally -won as the result sought for of the pain suffered. Under an aspect -such as this the martyrs may be depicted as the guardians of the -Divine in conflict with the grossness of material force and barbarism -of unbelief. For the sake of their heavenly treasure they endure pain -and death, and this courage, steadfastness, endurance, and consolation -must consequently, with equal truth, appear upon them. And yet for all -that this intimate possession of their faith and love in its spiritual -beauty is no sanity of soul which brings to them a sense of the sanity -of their body; rather it is a sense of inward life, which has worked -its way through their pain itself, or at least is made manifest in -their suffering, and which, even in the moment of their ecstasy, -retains the experience of pain as an essential condition of their -beatitude. The art of painting has, in particular, made this attitude -of saintly humiliation the object of its efforts. What this art mainly -should strive after here is to delineate the bliss of such torments in -the pure and simple lines of the countenance and its expression, as -contrasted with the offensive laceration of the flesh; and to present -such an ecstasy as may reflect the surrender and victory over pain, -the fruition, in short, of the Divine Presence in the temple of the -soul. If, on the contrary, the art of sculpture seeks to give a visible -form to such a content, it will inevitably find itself less qualified -to depict this ecstasy of soul-life at this strain<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_318" id="Page_318">[Pg 318]</a></span> of its intensity -with such a concentrated power, and will consequently be compelled to -emphasize that aspect of pain and laceration in so far as it declares -itself in its full force on the bodily frame.</p> - -<p>(<i>γ</i>) <i>Thirdly</i>, it is to be observed that in the kind of examples -with which we are now dealing it is not merely the existence of Nature -and immediate finite conditions which is affected by this attitude -of self-abnegation and endurance, but the impulse of the soul is -transported by such feelings to an extreme point of this heavenly -rapture to such an extent, in fact, that what is merely human and of -the world, even when it is essentially beyond reproach on ethical or -rational grounds, is none the less thrust behind and scorned. In other -words, just in proportion as the Spirit, which here makes vivid to -itself the idea of its conversion, is in the first instance deficient -in an educated sense, to that extent it will with so much the more -uncontrollable and logical frenzy—the entire force of its piety being -concentrated on this one object—turn its back on everything which -as finite opposes this bare and abstract infinitude of its religious -fanaticism, that is to say, on every definite human emotion, all -the manifold ethical impulses, relations, and obligations of the -heart. For the moral life of the family, the bonds of friendship, of -blood, of love, of the State, and a man's calling, every one of them -belong to the things of the world; and all that is of the world, in -so far as it is not as yet suffused with the absolute conceptions of -faith and developed in unity and harmony with the same, appears to -this form of abstract spiritual intensity of the soul of faith so -far from being something acceptable to its emotional life and sense -of obligation, that it is, on the contrary, a thing of no worth at -all, and therefore both hostile and hurtful to its religious state. -The moral organism of the human world is consequently not as yet -respected, because its significant features and duties are not as -yet recognized as necessary, integrated members in the concatenation -of an essentially rational reality, in which nothing, it is true, -ought to assert itself in a one-sided and independent isolation, yet, -none the less, as an essential factor in the organic process, must -be maintained as such and not be sacrificed. In this respect the -religious reconciliation remains<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_319" id="Page_319">[Pg 319]</a></span> itself <i>one-sided</i>, and declares -itself in the truly simple heart as an intensity of belief which -is deficient in comprehensiveness, that is, as the piety of the -self-secluded soul, which has not yet attained in its growth to the -fully expanded self-reliance of maturity, and to conviction based on -genuine insight and circumspection. When the force of a soul deficient -in these qualities maintains its opposition to the world which is -thus treated in a purely negative way, and forcefully breaks loose -from all human ties, even though they may originally be the very -closest, we can only characterize such conduct as the rawness of Spirit -and a barbaric result of the power of abstraction, which is simply -repulsive. So we may say that though from the point of view of the -religious consciousness, as we find it to-day, it is indeed possible -to honour, and to honour highly, this opening germ of religiosity in -such representations, if, however, such a pious tendency proceeds to -such lengths that we find it advancing to lay siege to what is both -essentially rational and moral, then, so far from sympathizing with -such a fanaticism of sanctity, we can only protest that a kind of -abnegation such as this, which casts off from itself, shatters and -treads upon that which is independently justifiable, and even sacred, -appears to us both immoral in itself and subversive of the very type -of religion it represents. There are many legends, tales, and poems -which deal with this extreme form of the pious craze. We have, for -example, the tale of a man who, though full of tenderness for his wife -and family, and, moreover, beloved by all his friends, leaves his home -and makes a pilgrimage. When at last he returns home in the guise of -a beggar he refuses to disclose his identity. Alms are given him, -and out of compassion a permanent lodging provided under the stairs. -In this plight he lives for twenty years; he sees the grief of his -family on his account, and only declares who he is on his death-bed. -This kind of thing, which we are asked to revere as sanctity, is, of -course, merely the egotism of a fanatic which revolts us. This long -endurance of renunciation may remind us of the distrait nature of -those penances, which the Hindoos voluntarily impose on themselves -on religious grounds. But the endurance of the Hindoo has a very -different significance. In that case a man deliberately places himself -in a<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_320" id="Page_320">[Pg 320]</a></span> condition of vacuum and unconsciousness; in the case which we -are now considering the <i>pain</i>, and the deliberate consciousness and -feeling of the same is the real object, which it is assumed will be -attained with just so much more purity as the suffering is associated -with the consciousness of the value of and devotion to the severities -which are accepted, and is, moreover, united with a vision for ever -concentrated on the renunciation thus made. The richer the heart which -takes on itself the burden of such ordeals, the nobler the content -of its own possessions, and yet withal believes that it is bound to -condemn them as of no merit, just so much the more difficult grows the -task of reconciliation, and the more prone it is to bring about the -most terrible convulsions and the most raving distraction. Indeed, to -our vision, it is clear enough that a soul such as this, which is only -at home in a world which, however full of ideas, is not the world of -common experience, and which consequently only feels its grasp slipping -from the stable and paramount centres of activity and aims of this our -actual world, ay, and although it be with heart and soul held in and -associated with that world, yet regards all that is moral there simply -as something which contradicts its absolute destination—we can only -say that such a soul, both in its self-inflicted sufferings and its -renunciations, is from the rational point of view simply mad, so mad -that we can neither feel any profound compassion for it, nor propose -any means of liberation. What is lamentably lacking to a mode of life -of this kind is an object of real substance and valid significance; -what it proposes to secure is an aim wholly personal, an object sought -for by the individual for himself alone, for the salvation of his own -soul, for his own blessedness. Few are likely to concern themselves -very deeply whether an individual, at any rate one of this type, is or -ever will be happy<a name="FNanchor_238_238" id="FNanchor_238_238"></a><a href="#Footnote_238_238" class="fnanchor">[238]</a>.</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_321" id="Page_321">[Pg 321]</a></span></p> - -<p>(<i>b</i>) <i>The inward Penance and Conversion</i></p> - -<p>The kind of representation, in the same general class of cases which -we shall now contrast with the one above examined, turns aside from -the extremity of merely bodily suffering, as it is also from a further -point of view more indifferent to the purely negative impulse directed -against what is essentially just and right in the actual conditions of -the world; the material of such representations consequently, both in -respect to its content and its form, opens up a ground which is more -conformable with ideal art. And this ground is the conversion of the -<i>inner</i> life of the soul, which only here seeks to express itself in -its <i>spiritual</i> pain, and its change of heart. Here, therefore, we -find in the first place that we have no more of those ever repeated -horrors and barbarities of pain inflicted on man's poor body: and, -secondly, that which we have referred to as the barbarian religiosity -of the soul no longer holds fast to its antagonism as against the -purely ethical aspects of humanity in order to trample under iron foot -in the abstraction of its purely conceptive satisfaction<a name="FNanchor_239_239" id="FNanchor_239_239"></a><a href="#Footnote_239_239" class="fnanchor">[239]</a>, and -in the pain of an absolute renunciation that other kind of sensuous -enjoyment; for the most part its attention is now solely directed -against what is in fact sinful, criminal, and evil in human Nature. -We find here a lofty assurance that faith, this spiritual impulse -towards God, is capable of converting the past action, even though it -be a sin or a crime, into something alien to the man who perpetrated -it, washing it away in fact. This withdrawal out of evil, that wholly -negative condition, which is realized in the individual by the -subjective volition and spirit at once scorning and confounding itself -under its former state of evil—this return to the positive which -is now self-established as the only real in contrast to the former -state of sinfulness, is the truly infinite content of religious love, -the presence and actuality of absolute Spirit in the individual soul -itself. The feeling of the stability and endurability of the personal -existence, which through God, to which it addresses itself, triumphs -over evil, and in so far as it is thus mediated with<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_322" id="Page_322">[Pg 322]</a></span> Him is aware -of itself as one with Him, produces as its effect the fruition and -blessedness of contemplating God, it is true, in the first instance -as the absolute Other in His opposition to the sin inherent in finite -existence, but further of knowing this Infinite Presence as identical -with me as this particular person, of knowing, in short, that I carry -this self-consciousness of God, as the seat of my own personality, -that is to say, my own self-consciousness, as certainly as I carry -the sense of my own self-identity. Such a revolution takes place no -doubt entirely within the shrine of the soul, and belongs, therefore, -rather to religion than art: for the reason, however, that it is the -intimate movement of the soul, which pre-eminently makes itself master -of this act of conversion, and also is able to throw a gleam of light -through the external embodiment, a plastic art such as painting can -also claim to make visible the history of such conversions. If it -attempts, however, to depict the entire course of events which belong -to such a transition, much that is very far from being beautiful may -readily appear in the result, because in such a case both that which is -sinful and repulsive requires to be depicted, as, for example, in the -story of the prodigal son. Painting, therefore, achieves its greatest -success when it concentrates the act of conversion into <i>one</i> picture -where that is the prevailing motive, and pays little or no attention -to the previous course of events. The ordinary presentations of Mary -Magdelene may be noted as an admirable example of this kind of work, -and particularly in the hands of the old Italian masters has been -treated in a way both excellent in itself and throughout consistently -with fine Art. She is depicted here both in the characterization of her -soul and her external presence as the <i>fair sinner</i>, in whom the sin no -less than the sanctity is intended to exercise a sort of fascination -on the spectator. But at the same time neither sin nor sanctity are -treated with any great intensity. She is forgiven much because she has -loved much, and her forgiveness is in a measure the portion both of her -love and her beauty. And what affects us most of all in this picture -is this, that she makes for herself a conscience as it were out of -her love, and robed in the beauty of her sensitive soul pours forth -her sorrow in a flood of tears. We are not led to feel that the fact -that she has loved so much is her error, but rather that<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_323" id="Page_323">[Pg 323]</a></span> her fair and -fascinating folly is this, namely, that she <i>believes</i> herself to be a -sinner,<a name="FNanchor_240_240" id="FNanchor_240_240"></a><a href="#Footnote_240_240" class="fnanchor">[240]</a> for her exquisitely sensitive beauty only leaves us the -impression that in her love she is both noble and profound.</p> - -<p>(<i>c</i>) <i>Miracles and Legends</i></p> - -<p>The final aspect, which is closely associated with the two above -considered, and is frequently asserted as a concomitant of both, is -that of miracle. It plays in fact an important part throughout this -stage of our inquiry. In this connection we may define miracle as the -conversion-history of the immediate existence of Nature. Such reality -lies before us as a commonplace, contingent existence. This finite -substance is touched by the hand of God, which, in so far as it strikes -upon what is purely external and particular, breaks it up, transmutes -it into something entirely different, interrupting what in ordinary -parlance we call the natural course of things. To bring before us the -soul arrested by such inexplicable phenomena, in which it imagines it -recognizes the presence of the Divine, vanquished, in short, in its -ordinary view of finite events, this is the main subject-matter of -a host of legends. In fact, however, the Divine can only touch and -dominate Nature as Reason, that is, in the unalterable laws of Nature -herself, as implanted therein by God, and the Divine has no occasion -to exploit Himself in the supreme sense of this term in particular -circumstances and modes of causation which run contrary to these -laws of Nature, for it is only the eternal laws and determinations -of reason which apply in any real sense to Nature. From<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_324" id="Page_324">[Pg 324]</a></span> another -point of view legends frequently carry with them quite unnecessarily -an amount of matter which is abstruse, out of taste, senseless, and -ridiculous, inasmuch as the intention is that both intellect and heart -should be stimulated to believe in the presence and activity of God -by precisely those things which are essentially irrational, false, -and heathenish. The consequent emotion, piety, and conversion of the -soul may even then awake our interest, but in that case it is only -on the <i>one</i> side, namely, that of the soul: so soon as that enters -into relation with somewhat else outside it, and the idea is that this -external correlative shall effect the conversion of the heart, then we -inevitably require that such should not be wholly a meaningless and -irrational sequence of events.</p> - -<p>Such, then, would be the fundamental divisions of the substantive -content at this particular stage of our inquiry, regarding that content -as the self-subsistent Nature of God, or in its aspect as a spiritual -process, through which and in which He is Spirit. We have here the -absolute object, which art neither creates nor reveals out of itself, -but which it has received from religion which it approaches with the -conviction that it is <i>essentially</i> true that it may express and -represent the same conformably to its modes. It is the content of the -believing, yearning soul, which is intrinsically the infinite totality -itself, so that for it the external medium remains to a more or less -degree outside it, or a matter of indifference, and is unable to be -brought completely into harmony with that inner life. And for this -reason it frequently presents a repellent material which art finds -itself unable wholly to subdue to its aims.</p> -<hr class="r5" /> -<div class="footnote"> - -<p><a name="Footnote_224_224" id="Footnote_224_224"></a><a href="#FNanchor_224_224"><span class="label">[224]</span></a> <i>Nicht aufnehmend.</i> Not ready to absorb extraneous -matter.</p></div> - -<div class="footnote"> - -<p><a name="Footnote_225_225" id="Footnote_225_225"></a><a href="#FNanchor_225_225"><span class="label">[225]</span></a> This of course is an opinion which may be strongly -contested in its application to particular artists.</p></div> - -<div class="footnote"> - -<p><a name="Footnote_226_226" id="Footnote_226_226"></a><a href="#FNanchor_226_226"><span class="label">[226]</span></a> Hegel means not so much the history in which the whole -totality of events is comprised as that aspect of human history which -declares its universal significance as infinite spirit.</p></div> - -<div class="footnote"> - -<p><a name="Footnote_227_227" id="Footnote_227_227"></a><a href="#FNanchor_227_227"><span class="label">[227]</span></a> That is, of self-consciousness in all that it -implies—the personality of Christ, for example.</p></div> - -<div class="footnote"> - -<p><a name="Footnote_228_228" id="Footnote_228_228"></a><a href="#FNanchor_228_228"><span class="label">[228]</span></a> Hegel does not further dwell upon this relativity. But -the next paragraph explains what is really in his mind. The important -question, however, how far such events are worthy of credence as -objective history, to say nothing of the inadequacy of their artistic -presentation, one cannot but feel is deliberately evaded. What Hegel -would say no doubt was that the bare historical aspect was only of -relative importance. The main question was their significance in the -spiritual process. It is in this direction that much of our noblest -modern thought finds a certain indissoluble unreality of statement.</p></div> - -<div class="footnote"> - -<p><a name="Footnote_229_229" id="Footnote_229_229"></a><a href="#FNanchor_229_229"><span class="label">[229]</span></a> That is in Christ.</p></div> - -<div class="footnote"> - -<p><a name="Footnote_230_230" id="Footnote_230_230"></a><a href="#FNanchor_230_230"><span class="label">[230]</span></a> <i>Gleichkeit.</i> Equality, reciprocity.</p></div> - -<div class="footnote"> - -<p><a name="Footnote_231_231" id="Footnote_231_231"></a><a href="#FNanchor_231_231"><span class="label">[231]</span></a> We are reminded of our treasures in Christian art such -as the Virgin and Child in Tintoret's "Flight into Egypt," Rafael's -San, Sisto Madonna and the rest.</p></div> - -<div class="footnote"> - -<p><a name="Footnote_232_232" id="Footnote_232_232"></a><a href="#FNanchor_232_232"><span class="label">[232]</span></a> In other words as regarded at a later date by the -Church.</p></div> - -<div class="footnote"> - -<p><a name="Footnote_233_233" id="Footnote_233_233"></a><a href="#FNanchor_233_233"><span class="label">[233]</span></a> This statement hardly does justice to the profound -idealism of the epistles of St. Paul.</p></div> - -<div class="footnote"> - -<p><a name="Footnote_234_234" id="Footnote_234_234"></a><a href="#FNanchor_234_234"><span class="label">[234]</span></a> Perhaps "the infinite form of subjectivity" is better. -He means "the infinite form of individual self-consciousness."</p></div> - -<div class="footnote"> - -<p><a name="Footnote_235_235" id="Footnote_235_235"></a><a href="#FNanchor_235_235"><span class="label">[235]</span></a> That is, characterized by personality.</p></div> - -<div class="footnote"> - -<p><a name="Footnote_236_236" id="Footnote_236_236"></a><a href="#FNanchor_236_236"><span class="label">[236]</span></a> <i>Geschichte.</i> Life as an evolved Process.</p></div> - -<div class="footnote"> - -<p><a name="Footnote_237_237" id="Footnote_237_237"></a><a href="#FNanchor_237_237"><span class="label">[237]</span></a> Compare the poem of Meredith, "Theodolinda," in his -ballads of the Tragic Life. It is, in another aspect, that iron crown -which that thoughtful contemporary writer, Mr. H. W. Nevinson, refers -to in his Essays on Rebellion.</p></div> - -<div class="footnote"> - -<p><a name="Footnote_238_238" id="Footnote_238_238"></a><a href="#FNanchor_238_238"><span class="label">[238]</span></a> The elimination even of sympathy with such fanaticism -where it is quite sincere, a rare case no doubt, seems severe. The -best illustration in modern literature I know of the principle "all -or nothing," is Ibsen's great drama "Brandt." Readers of Carlyle will -doubtless recall from "Past and Present" and elsewhere that prophet's -repeated denunciations of the craze for personal happiness.</p></div> - -<div class="footnote"> - -<p><a name="Footnote_239_239" id="Footnote_239_239"></a><a href="#FNanchor_239_239"><span class="label">[239]</span></a> By <i>intellectuellen Befriedigung</i> Hegel does not mean -"intellectual" in a good sense, but merely that the man imagines his -happiness in his mind rather than feels it through the senses. The -psychology of religious ecstasy, however, is a rather involved problem.</p></div> - -<div class="footnote"> - -<p><a name="Footnote_240_240" id="Footnote_240_240"></a><a href="#FNanchor_240_240"><span class="label">[240]</span></a> This analysis is rather surprising. Did Hegel, the -robust Swabian, really think the above the finest type of art's -presentations of the Magdalene? Does it not lean very closely to that -soft sentimentalism which a Carlo Dolci gives us in its decadence? At -any rate the idea that the Magdalene was not really a sinner flatly -contradicts the original references to her in the gospels, and to -my mind at any rate seems from the artistic point of view also to -destroy half the rare beauty of her repentance. The principle of -such an interpretation is surely the entirely pagan one, whether -Greek or French, that a great passion is its own justification -quite irrespective of moral considerations. She is the historical -impersonation of the frailty of a love too dependent on the senses, -not of one in which either nobility of bearing or extreme selflessness -is conspicuous. Hegel's analysis may be true enough of certain -pictures—but do they really present us the ideal; most assuredly not.</p> - -<hr class="chap" /> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_325" id="Page_325">[Pg 325]</a></span></p></div> - - - - -<h5><a name="CHAPTER_II" id="CHAPTER_II">CHAPTER II</a></h5> - -<h4>CHIVALRY</h4> - -<p>The principle of the essentially infinite subjective consciousness -possesses for the content of faith and art in the first instance, as -we have already discovered, the Absolute itself, in other words the -Spirit of God as it is mediated and reconciled with the conscious -spirit of man and thereby is first itself independently free. This -romantic mysticism in its self-limitation to the sense of blessedness -in the Absolute Presence remains a mode of spiritual inwardness which -is abstract, because it confronts the things of the world in opposition -and rejects the same. Faith is, in an abstraction of this kind, -alienated from life, from the concrete reality of human existence, -removed from the positive relations of mankind to one another, who only -know and love each other in faith, and for the sake of their belief -as completely bound together in yet a third association, namely, the -spirit of the Christ community. This association is alone the clear -spring in which the image of that blessedness is reflected, without -it being necessary for man to look his brother first in the face, to -enter into any direct relation with another, or to experience the -unity of love, of trust, of confidence, of mutual aims and actions -in contact with the living concrete presence. That which constitutes -the hope and yearning of the inner life man here, in this sense of -exclusive religious intimacy, can only discover as actual life in the -kingdom of God, in the society of the Church. He has not as yet<a name="FNanchor_241_241" id="FNanchor_241_241"></a><a href="#Footnote_241_241" class="fnanchor">[241]</a> -withdrawn this single identity in a third factor from his conscious -life in order that he may possess all that he is really himself in -his entire spiritual concreteness no less before his<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_326" id="Page_326">[Pg 326]</a></span> eyes directly -in the knowledge and volition of that other whole. The collective -religious content, it is true, assumes the mode of real existence, but -it is still an existence which is located in the ideal world of an -imagination which consumes the expanding boundaries of actual life. It -is still far away from attempting to satisfy its own life also in that -abundance which it receives from the world and its realization in the -world as the higher demand in the medium of life itself.</p> - -<p>It follows that the soul which found its initial consummation in the -simple feeling of Divine blessedness must step forth from this heavenly -kingdom peculiar to the <i>religious</i> sphere, must undertake the effort -of self-introspection and assimilate a content which is, as vitally -present, adequate to the demands of the individual consciousness in -its fullest extension. And in this process that which was before a -<i>religious</i> coalescence of soul is changed to one of <i>secular</i> type. -Christ indeed said; "Ye must leave father and mother, and follow Me." -And in the like spirit: "Brother shall hate brother; men shall crucify -you and persecute you." But as soon as the kingdom of God has secured -a foothold in the world, and is actively employed in transfusing with -its spirit and illumining the aims and interests of that world; when -father, mother, and brother are already numbered in the community, -then the things of the world on their side commence to assert their -just claim to recognition and furtherance. If this claim is not merely -fought for but vindicated then also the negative attitude of the -religious spirit, which was at first exclusively hostile to all that -was merely human, vanishes; the spirit of man enlarges, it explores -the full scope of its actual presence, and unfolds its heart in the -entire world of reality<a name="FNanchor_242_242" id="FNanchor_242_242"></a><a href="#Footnote_242_242" class="fnanchor">[242]</a>. The fundamental principle suffers no -alteration; the substantive and infinite self-consciousness merely -directs its attention to another province of its own kingdom. We may -perhaps define this transition in the statement that the individual -singularity is now as such singularity independent of its mediation -with God and self-subsistently free. For precisely in that mediation, -whereby it divested itself of its purely finite limitation and natural -life, it has passed over the path of mere negation, and reappears<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_327" id="Page_327">[Pg 327]</a></span> -after having thus secured an essentially <i>affirmative</i> position, -in the condition of a consciousness that is free and as such makes -the demand that it shall, in virtue of its own infinitude, though -the infinitude is here only in the first instance one of pure form, -secure complete recognition both for itself and others. In this the -religious mode of the individual consciousness is reposed the entire -spiritual wealth of the infinite soul, which it has hitherto filled -up with God. If we, however, made the inquiry, of what material the -heart of man is suffused in this its inward repletion, such a content -merely concerns the infinite relation of the subjective consciousness -in its active self-relation; it is simply replete with its own -formal medium, that is, as essentially infinite singularity without -further and more concrete expansion and significance as a content of -interests, aims, and actions which is itself essentially objective -and substantive<a name="FNanchor_243_243" id="FNanchor_243_243"></a><a href="#Footnote_243_243" class="fnanchor">[243]</a>. If we further examine the matter, however, more -closely we shall see there are in the main <i>three</i> emotions, which -in their independence rise up in the individual soul to the level of -this infinite mode, namely personal <i>honour, love</i>, and <i>fidelity.</i> -They are not so much moral qualities and virtues as simply modes which -inform the intimate presence of the individual soul when fulfilled -with its own self-relation as such is recognized by romance. For the -personal self-subsistency for which <i>honour</i> contends does not assert -itself as intrepitude on behalf of a communal weal, and the repute -of thoroughness in relation to it and integrity of private life. -On the contrary it contends simply for the recognition and formal -inviolability of the individual person. The same principle applies to -<i>love</i>, which forms the central subject-matter of this sphere. It is -merely the adventitious passion of one individual for another; and -however much it may expand under the wand of imagination or may be -deepened by excess of emotion, it is for all that neither the ethical -relation of marriage or family. <i>Fidelity</i> possesses no doubt more -the<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_328" id="Page_328">[Pg 328]</a></span> appearance of a moral character, inasmuch as it does not merely -will its own but holds fast to something higher, something shared -with itself, surrenders itself to another's will, whether it be the -wish or behest of a master, and thereby renounces the personal desire -and independence of its own particular volition. But the feeling of -loyalty does not concern the objective interest of the social weal -in its independent form, that is, in the concrete freedom of the -developed state life, but associates itself merely with the <i>person</i> -of a master, who, in his own fashion, acts with independence, or -concentrates himself in more general relations and is active on their -behalf<a name="FNanchor_244_244" id="FNanchor_244_244"></a><a href="#Footnote_244_244" class="fnanchor">[244]</a>. These three modes of feeling taken together and as they -reciprocally affect one another constitute with the exception of the -religious relation, which also has its part to play here, the principal -content of <i>chivalry</i>, and furnish the necessary steps of advance -from the principle of purely religious enthusiasm to the entrance of -the individual soul into the concrete social life of the world, in -the kingdom of which romantic art now secures a platform on which it -can from its own resources work out its independence, and at the same -time embody a freer type of beauty. It stands here, so to speak, in -the free room midway between the absolute content of the independently -stable religious conceptions and the varied particularity and -restricted boundaries of the finite world. Among the various arts it is -pre-eminently poetry which has shown itself most qualified to master -such a material, its modes of expression being directed to the life of -the soul as wholly occupied with its own domain and as realized in its -aims and events.</p> - -<p>Inasmuch as we now have before us a material which man takes possession -of in his own spiritual life, or rather, from the world of his pure -humanity, we might at first suppose that romantic art occupied the -same ground as that of classic art. This, therefore, is an excellent -opportunity for placing<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_329" id="Page_329">[Pg 329]</a></span> them together both in comparison and -contrast. We have already defined classical art the Ideal of humanity -certified as true in its objective self-subsistence. Its imaginative -vitality requires as its core a content which is substantive in type -and excludes an ethical pathos. The Homeric poems, the tragedies of -Sophocles and Aeschylus, are in the main concerned with interests -of an absolutely factual content, an austere treatment of the -passions reflected therein, a solid style of speech and execution in -conformity with the nature of the ideas expressed, and above this -domain of heroes and other figures which alone are in their individual -self-concentration at home in such an atmosphere of pathos we have -the realm of the gods at a still more advanced stage of objective -presentment. Even in the case where art, in more introspective fashion, -is occupied with the infinite experiments of sculpture, bas-reliefs and -similar forms, or the later elegies, epigrams, and other diversions -of lyrical poetry, we still have the same type before us, that is to -say, the type which portrays the object more or less as it finds it, -and obedient to the claim that it already has secured its constructive -presentment. We have, in short, represented figures of the imagination -already established and defined in their characterization such as -Venus, Bacchus, or the Muses. It is just the same with the later -epigrams, where we get the description of a material already to hand -or, as in the case of Meleager, a posy of well-known flowers, bound -together with the cords of exquisite feeling and taste. It is, in -short, an exhilarating mode of activity carried on in a wealthily -furnished house overflowing in its stores with every kind of bounty, -image and provision for every conceivable object. The poet and the -artist is simply the magician, who wafts them into use, collects and -groups them.</p> - -<p>It is wholly different in romantic poetry. In so far as it is of the -world worldly, and is not directly associated with the story of our -Lord, the virtues and objects of its heroism are not those of the -Greek heroes, whose type of morality Christendom in its early days -simply regarded as a brilliant enormity. Greek morality presupposes -the presence of humanity in its complete configuration, in which -the volition then and there as it ought to act conformably to its -essential<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_330" id="Page_330">[Pg 330]</a></span> notion of independence has received a definite content and -the actual conditions of freedom imperatively valid such as belong to -that content. Such are the relations of parents and children, married -persons, or of citizens of city or State in the realized liberty of -such. Now inasmuch as this objective content of human affairs belongs -to the <i>evolution</i> of man's spirit on the basis of Nature cognized -and insured as actual fact, it is unable any longer to satisfy that -self-absorbed introspection of the religious life, which seeks to -destroy the natural aspect of human life, and must deviate considerably -from the virtue of humility which opposes it, and the surrender of -human freedom and its staunch self-dependence. The virtues of Christian -piety simply prove the death of such a world-attitude if held in their -extreme of abstraction, and only make the individual free, when he -absolutely denies the human part of him. The individual freedom of our -present sphere is no doubt no longer conditioned by mere endurance -and self-sacrifice but essentially positive in the world arena; that -infinite self-relation of the individual has, however, as we have -already discovered, the inward realm of the soul as its content and -only that, the subjective soul, that is, whose movement is in its own -peculiar medium, as the secular ground of its own domain. In this -connection poetry does not draw from any objective material already -presented it, no mythology, for instance, no imaginative pictures -and embodiments, which already lie ready waiting for its expression. -It stands there wholly free, without any extraneous matter, purely -creative and productive. It is free as a bird that sings straight -from its breast. It follows, then, if this subjective activity -proceeds also from a noble will and a profound soul, we shall merely -have in its workings and relations and existence the evidence of -caprice and contingency, for the reason that freedom and its aims -proceed, relatively to a content which is throughout immaterial, from -internal self-reflection. And, consequently, we do not find so much in -individuals a particular pathos in the Greek conception of the term -and a vital self-subsistency of character associated with it by the -closest bonds, as that which is simply a grade of heroic conception in -its connection with love, honour, bravery, and fidelity; a grade into -which it is mainly the nobility or depravity of soul which imports the -distinguishing<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_331" id="Page_331">[Pg 331]</a></span> features. The characteristic trait, however, which the -heroes of the Middle Ages possess in common with those of antiquity -is that of <i>bravery.</i> Yet even this receives a totally different -complexion. It is not so much a natural courage, which reposes on the -character that is sane and sound, and flows forth from the growth of -an unimpaired robustness of body and will, assisting the execution of -objective interests. Rather it is the outcome of the secret wealth of -the soul, its honour and chivalry, and is in the main a creation of -the phantasy, which undertakes adventures that have their origin in -individual caprice and the chance intricacies of external circumstance -or the impulses of mystical piety, and we may add generally the -personal attitude of the individual.</p> - -<p>This romantic type of art finds a home, then, in two hemispheres, in -the Western world as this penetration into the more intimate shrine of -Spirit, in the Eastern this its first expansion of the self-absorbed -consciousness as it frees itself from the finite environment. In the -West poetry reposes on a soul which is withdrawn upon its resources, -which has become the centre of its activity, yet possesses this flavour -of secularly merely as one part of its complexion, as one aspect, over -which is superposed a yet loftier world of belief. In the East it is -the Arab above all, who as a solitary,<a name="FNanchor_245_245" id="FNanchor_245_245"></a><a href="#Footnote_245_245" class="fnanchor">[245]</a> who in the first instance -has nothing before his eyes but his dried-up desert and his heavens, -stands forth in the full strength of life as the proclaimer of the -splendour and primary extension of the world of Nature, and thereby -still preserves at the same time the freedom of his soul. And generally -we may say that in the Orient it is the Mohammedan religion, which -has cleared the ground, made an end of all idolatry in the service -of finite things or the imagination, and given the soul at the same -time the personal freedom, which wholly floods the same, so that the -secularity does not here only constitute another province, but runs -beyond it into the universal licence, where heart and mind, without -ascribing any objective reality to God, find their reconciliation in -the jubilant lust of living just like beggars by throwing the glory -of their fancy on the objects around them: enjoy their loves and are -happy, blessed, and contented.</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_332" id="Page_332">[Pg 332]</a></span></p> - - -<h6>1. HONOUR</h6> - -<p>The motive of honour was unknown to ancient classic art. In the "Iliad" -it is quite true that the wrath of Achilles constitutes both the -content and the motive principle, so that the entire series of events -is dependent upon it; but what we moderns understand by the term honour -is not grasped here at all. Achilles believes himself to be insulted -to all intents and purposes only in the fact that the share in the -booty which he considers justly to belong to him and the reward of -his personal merits, his <i>γέρας</i>, has been taken away by Agamemnon. -The insult here has a direct reference to something actual, a bounty, -in which no doubt a privilege, a recognition of fame and bravery was -reposed, and Achilles is enraged because Agamemnon meets him unworthily -and lets the Greeks know that they are not to pay any attention to -him. An insult of this kind is not driven home to the real centre -of personality in its abstract purity; in fact Achilles expresses -himself satisfied with the restitution of the abducted slave and the -addition of other goods and bounties, and Agamemnon finally makes this -reparation although from our point of view they have both insulted one -another in the grossest fashion. Maledictions of this kind, however, -have only made them angry; and, after all, the particular insult, which -has reference to a matter of fact, is done away with in the same matter -of fact fashion.</p> - -<p>(<i>a</i>) The honour of romance is, on the contrary, of another kind. -Insult has no reference here to the factual values of real things, -property, status, obligation, etc., but to personality simply, and -its idea of its own importance, the work which the individual claims -as his right. This worth is in the cases we are now discussing of -an infinite significance equal to that of personality itself. In -honour, therefore, man possesses the earliest positive consciousness -of his infinite spiritual medium, independent of the content. What -the individual has, what in him something peculiar creates, after -the loss of which it may yet subsist precisely as it did before—in -this elusive something the absolute validity of the entire subjective -life is reposed and apprehended in it both for itself and others. -The determining measure of honour therefore does not depend on what -the individual really is,<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_333" id="Page_333">[Pg 333]</a></span> but on what is contained in this personal -self-regard. This regard, however, raises all particularity to the -level of the universal conception that the personal core in its full -significance resides in this particularity which it claims as its own. -Honour is merely an outward show it is sometimes said. No doubt this is -so: but from our present point of view we must, if we look at it more -narrowly, accept it as the appearance and reappearance of the personal -medium self-reflected, which as the semblance of an entity essentially -infinite is itself infinite. And through this infinitude it is just -this show or semblance of honour which is the real existence of the -individual, its highest actuality; and every particular quality, into -which honour is reflected and appropriates as its own is by virtue of -this show exalted itself to an infinite worth. This type of honour -constitutes a fundamental determinant in the romantic world, and -presupposes that man has not merely passed beyond the limits of purely -religious conception and inward life, but actually entered the arena -of the great world and makes itself vital in the material of the same -simply by virtue of the pure medium of its personal self-subsistence -and absolute intension<a name="FNanchor_246_246" id="FNanchor_246_246"></a><a href="#Footnote_246_246" class="fnanchor">[246]</a>.</p> - -<p>The <i>content</i> of honour may be of the most varied kind. For everything -that I am, do, or is done to me by others affects my honour. We may -consequently reckon within its boundaries the out and out substantive -itself, loyalty towards princes, fatherland, a man's profession, -fulfilment of obligations, marital fidelity, integrity in business -affairs and conscientiousness in scientific research. For the point -of view of honour, however, all these essentially valid and veritable -relations are neither sanctioned nor recognized in and through -themselves, but only so far as the individual reposes in them his -personal relation and makes them thereby matters affecting his honour. -A man of honour consequently always thinks first of all about himself, -and the question for him is not if anything is on principle right -or not, but whether it is the right thing for him to do, whether it -becomes him then as a man of honour to make himself master in it and to -stand by it. And consequently he may also perpetrate<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_334" id="Page_334">[Pg 334]</a></span> the worst actions -and still be a man of honour. He creates at the same time objects at -will, imagines himself of a specific character, and appropriates to -himself, both as he sees himself and is seen by others, that which -in the natural order of things has nothing to do with him at all. -Even then it is not the natural fact, but the personal view of it -which places difficulties and devolutions in the path, because it has -become an affair of honour to maintain that character. So, to take -an example, Donna Diana conceives it to be derogatory to her honour -to confess in any way the love she feels, because she has pledged -herself not to listen to love. In general we may say, then, that the -content of love is at the mercy of accident, because its validity -depends purely on the personal attitude, and is not directed by that -which is the essential mode of the inner life itself. For this reason -we may observe that in romantic representations on the one hand that -which is on principle justifiable is expressed as the <i>law</i> of honour, -the individual associating with the consciousness of right at the -same time the infinite self-conscious unit of his personality. What -is then expressed by the statement that honour makes such and such a -demand, or forbids it, is this that the entire personal attitude of -consciousness implants itself within the content of such a demand or -prohibition so that no trespass in any transaction can fail to attract -its attention without a repair and restoration being effected; and -we may add the individual is unable to attend to any other content. -Conversely, however, honour may resolve itself into something wholly -formal and contentless, in so far as it contains nothing but the shell -of the Ego, which is formally infinite, or only accepts an entirely -bad content as obligatory upon it. In this case, more particularly -in dramatic representations, honour remains but a wholly frosty and -unvitalized object: its aims express no longer an essential content -but simply an abstract form of consciousness. But it is only an -essentially substantive content which possesses the contingency of law, -and is capable of explication in its multifold environment, and can be -apprehended in its imperative sequence of consequences. This defect -in profound content especially rises to the surface when casuistry of -reflection includes within the embrace of honour matter which is purely -accidental and<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_335" id="Page_335">[Pg 335]</a></span> insignificant which the individual comes in contact -with. There is never a lack of material, because this casuistical -tendency analyses with great subtlety in its modes of distinction, -and many aspects may be elicited and made the subject of honour which -in themselves are quite unimportant Above all the Spaniards have -elaborated this casuistry of reflection over matters of honour in their -dramatic poetry, and made their particular heroes of honour deduce all -their consequences in their speeches. In this way the fidelity of the -married woman may form a subject of investigation into the minutest -details, and the mere suspicion of another, nay, the possibility of -such even when the husband is aware that the suspicion is false may -be an affair of honour. If this leads to collisions we can derive no -real satisfaction from the process, because we have nothing of material -moment to arrest us, and consequently instead of the resolution of an -antagonism which is causally inevitable we can only extract from it a -painfully contracted feeling. Also in French plays we frequently find -that it is an honour which is barren, that is entirely abstract, which -is made the essential fulcrum of interest Still more extreme is this -essentially frostlike and lifeless type of it apparent in the drama -"Alarcos" of Herr Friedrich von Schlegel. The hero here murders his -noble and loving wife. And we ask why. Simply for honour's sake; and -this honour consists in this that he may marry the king's daughter, for -whom he entertains no affection, and thus become the king's son-in-law. -Such a pattern is of course contemptible and an ignoble conception -which merely prides itself as something lofty and of infinite intension.</p> - -<p>(<i>b</i>) Inasmuch, then, as honour is not only a semblance in me myself, -but must also exist in the mind and recognition of <i>another</i>, which -again on its part makes a claim to a similar honourable recognition, -honour is the extreme embodiment of <i>vulnerability.</i> For it is purely -a matter of personal caprice how far I choose to extend the claim -and to what material I care to relate it. The smallest offence may -be in this respect of significance; and inasmuch as man is placed -relatively to concrete reality in the most manifold relations with a -thousand things, and is able to extend practically without limit the -sphere of that which he conceives to affect<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_336" id="Page_336">[Pg 336]</a></span> him, and to which he -is placed in the relation of honour it follows that when we come to -deal with the independence of mankind and the obstinate isolation of -their units, aspects for which the principle of honour is in the main -responsible, there is no end to the strife and contention to which -they give rise. Moreover, in the case of insult also no less than in -that of honour generally, the important matter is not the content, in -which I necessarily feel myself insulted; for that which is negated -has reference to the personality which has appropriated such a content -as its own, and now conceives itself as this ideal centrum of infinity -attacked.</p> - -<p>(<i>c</i>) For such reasons every insult to honour is regarded as -essentially of an infinite significance. It can consequently only -be repaired by means which possess that character. No doubt we may -have many degrees of insult, and as many modes of satisfaction; what -however at the stage we are now considering any man may take as an -insult, how far he will feel himself as insulted and claim satisfaction -therefore, such considerations depend once more wholly on the personal -caprice of the particular person, which is justified in pursuing its -object to the utmost point of scrupulosity and outraged feeling. In -this process of satisfaction, which is here claimed, it is essential -that the man who delivers the insult no less than he who receives it -should be recognized as a man of honour. For the latter requires the -free recognition of his honour from the former; but in order to have -honour in his eyes and through his action that man must appear to -the recipient of insult as a man of honour, in other words he must -substantiate by virtue of his personality the infinite character of the -insult which he has laid upon the outraged man and despite his personal -enmity that is thereby directed against him.</p> - -<p>It is, then, a fundamental determinant in the general principle of -honour that no one through his actions can give to any one a right over -himself; and consequently all that he has done and may have initiated -will be regarded both previous to its commencement and after its -conclusion as unalterably affiliated to infinity, and will be accepted -and treated under such a qualitative relation.</p> - -<p>Moreover, since honour, in its conflicts and its satisfaction in this -respect, depends on personal independence, which is<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_337" id="Page_337">[Pg 337]</a></span> conscious of -itself as subject to no limitation, but acts directly from its own -resources, we find a fact recur to our attention, which we previously -observed fundamentally characterized the heroic figures of the Ideal, -namely the self-subsistence of individuality. In honour, however, we -have not merely the secure self-dependence and action from personal -resources, but this self-subsistence is in this case united with <i>the -idea of itself</i>; and it is just this preconception which constitutes -the real content of honour in the sense that it perceives what is its -own in that which is presented exterior to it, and envisages itself -therein to the full extent of its personal life. Honour is consequently -a self-subsistence, which is a <i>self reflection</i>, and possesses in such -a reflection its exclusive essence, and moreover leaves it wholly to -accident whether its content be that which is essentially moral and -necessary, or contingent and insignificant.</p> - - -<h6>2. LOVE</h6> - -<p>The second emotional source which plays a predominant part in the -productions of romantic art is <i>love.</i></p> - -<p>(<i>a</i>) We have found in honour that the individual conscious life, -as it prefigures itself in its absolute <i>independence</i>, forms the -fundamental determinant; in a similar way the highest attitude of -love is the <i>surrender</i> of the personal life to some object of the -opposed sex, a sacrifice of its independent consciousness and its -personal isolation, which for the first time in the consciousness of -another, is aware emotionally that it has thoroughly brought home to -itself its own self-knowledge. In this respect we may contrast love -and honour. Conversely, however, we are entitled to regard love as the -<i>realization</i> of that which was already inherent in honour, in so far -as honour claims recognition<a name="FNanchor_247_247" id="FNanchor_247_247"></a><a href="#Footnote_247_247" class="fnanchor">[247]</a> that it should be received in another -as the infinite significance of personality. This recognition is only -true and complete when it is not merely my personality in the abstract, -or in a concrete and consequently restricted case, is respected by -another, but when I, in the' entire significance of my personal -resources, with everything this either emphasizes or includes, as this -particular person in all my past, present, and future<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_338" id="Page_338">[Pg 338]</a></span> relations, both -penetrate the conscious life of another, and, in fact, constitute the -object of his real volition and knowledge, his effort and his property. -In this respect it is this same inward infinitude of the individual -which makes love of such importance to romantic art, an importance -which is materially enhanced by the exalted character of the wealth -which the notion of love itself carries.</p> - -<p>More closely, then, love does not subsist, as may frequently happen -in the case of honour, upon the subject-matter of the mind and the -casuistry of reflection, but originates in the emotions, and for the -reason that here the distinctions of sex play an important part, -possesses at the same time for its basis natural conditions as already -related to spirit life. This basis is, however, only present in the -sense that the individual comes into relation with such conditions by -way of his soul-life, that essentially infinite aspect of himself.</p> - -<p>This state of a man's losing his own consciousness in another, this -appearance of disinterestedness and unselfishness, by virtue of which -a man first really finds himself and comes to himself—this oblivion -of his own, so that the lover no longer exists, or is careful for -himself, but discovers the roots of that life in another, and yet -only comes into the full enjoyment of himself in that other is what -gives us the infinite relation of love; and we must look for beauty -mainly in so far as this feeling does not persist as mere impulse -and emotion, but through the imagination makes its world conform to -such a condition, exalts everything which otherwise belongs by virtue -of its interest, circumstances, and objects to real existence and -life, into an adornment of this feeling, bears away all else into the -charmed circle, and only attaches a value to it in this relation. -More particularly it is in female characters that love appears in -most beautiful guise because this sacrifice, this surrender, is with -them as the culmination of everything else. It is these qualities, in -fact, which concentrate and extend life in its spiritual breadth and -reality to the wealth of this emotion, which alone discover within -it a stay for existence, and if any misfortune sweeps across the -path, vanish like a light which is extinguished by the first rude -breath<a name="FNanchor_248_248" id="FNanchor_248_248"></a><a href="#Footnote_248_248" class="fnanchor">[248]</a>. In this personal and<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_339" id="Page_339">[Pg 339]</a></span> intimate sense of feeling love is -not presented in classical art, and only appears as a feature of quite -secondary importance for the representation, or is only conspicuous -under its aspect of physical enjoyment. In Homer, either we find it is -not emphasized at all, or love appears in its most respected type as -wedded love in the sphere of the domestic state, exemplified in the -figure of Penelope, or as solicitude of wife and mother, exemplified -in the case of Andromache, or in other ethical relations of a similar -character. The tie, on the other hand, which unites Paris to Helen is -recognized as immoral, and the cause of the horror and fatal course of -the Trojan war. The love, too, of Achilles for Briseis has little depth -of sentiment or spiritual flavour, for Briseis is a slave entirely at -his disposition. In the odes of Sappho it is true that the language -of love receives the dramatic emphasis of lyrical enthusiasm; yet it -is rather the insinuating and devouring flame of the blood which is -here expressed than the profound emotion of the singer's heart and -soul. From another aspect we find in the short and charming odes of -Anacreon a wider and more jovial sense of enjoyment, which sports with -delight on the immediate sense of enjoyment as over something to be -simply accepted as it falls without troubling itself with infinite -heartaches, without this overmastering of the entire life or the pious -submission of a burdened, yearning, and yielding soul; in this type -the point of infinite importance whether it is precisely this or that -girl which you possess is as absolutely disregarded as the monkish -notion that you should shun maidenhood altogether. The lofty tragedy -of the ancients does not recognize the passion of love in its romantic -significance. Pre-eminently in the case of both Aeschylus and Sophocles -we find that it makes no pretension to contribute to the main interest -of the drama. For although Antigone is the accepted lover of Haemon, -and Haemon claims her before his father, nay, goes to the length of -committing suicide because he is unable to deliver her,<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_340" id="Page_340">[Pg 340]</a></span> yet it is the -external aspects of the case rather than the power of his own personal -passion, which, we may also note, is not that of a modern lover, which -he emphasizes before Creon. As a more essential type of pathos love -is treated by Euripides in the "Phaedra." But here, too, it rather -makes itself felt as a criminal aberration of the blood, as a passion -of the senses, initiated by Aphrodite, who is desirous of slaying -Hippolytus, because he refuses to sacrifice to her. In the same way we -have, no doubt, in the Medicean Aphrodite a plastic figure of love, -whose exquisite pose and lovely elaboration of bodily form is quite -consummate; but any profound expression of soul-life such as romantic -art demands is wholly absent. On the other hand, the immortality of -Petrarca, although he himself treated his sonnets in the light of -recreation, and it was rather through his Latin poems and other works -that he appealed to posterity, is due to this very love of the fancy -which, under an Italian sky, joined sisterly hands with religion in -the medium of a somewhat artificial outpouring of the heart. Dante's -exaltation, too, originated in his love for Beatrice, which was -transfigured in his soul to the white fervour of religious ecstasy, -while the courage and boldness of his genius created energetically -a religious outlook on the world, in which he dared, an attempt -impossible without such gifts, to constitute himself the judge of -mankind, and to apportion to individuals hell, purgatory, or paradise. -In contrast to an exaltation of this kind love is placed before us by -Boccaccio in those romances of his, in which he brings before our eyes -the morals and life of his country, partly in all its impetuosity of -passion, partly, too, in the spirit of frivolity without any ethical -aim whatever. In the songs of the German Minnesingers we find a type -of love, sensitive, tender, without much generosity of imagination, -sportive, melancholy, and monotonous. Among the Spaniards it is copious -in imaginative expression, chivalrous, somewhat casuistical in its -discovery and defence of rights and duties, so far as they relate to -private affairs of honour; and in this respect also possesses all the -richest splendour of enthusiasm. In contrast to this among Frenchmen -of more modern times love is more an affair of gallantry with a -distinct bias toward vanity, an artificial state of feeling converted -to the uses of poetry with<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_341" id="Page_341">[Pg 341]</a></span> a kind of sophistry of the senses often -marked with the finest wit, at one time expressing a kind of sensuous -enjoyment which is devoid of passion, at another a passion that brings -with it no enjoyment, a sublimated condition of feeling and sensibility -which feeds upon the maxims of reflection. But I must here break off -these general indications which our subject does not permit me now to -carry further.</p> - -<p>(<i>b</i>) More closely looked at the secular interest may be treated -under two general divisions. We have on the one side secularity as -actually organized, such as family life, the tie of citizenship and -politics, law, justice, morality, and the rest; and in opposition to -this<a name="FNanchor_249_249" id="FNanchor_249_249"></a><a href="#Footnote_249_249" class="fnanchor">[249]</a> independent and assured existence love springs up in noble -and impetuous spirits; this world-religion of hearts, which at one -time we find joining hands with religion in every respect, while at -another it supersedes it, forgets it, and by constituting itself the -single essential, or rather the unique and supreme condition of life, -is not only prepared to renounce all else, and to fly for refuge to a -desert with the beloved, but proceeds in this extremity of its passion, -which we can only exclude from the domain of beauty, to sacrifice all -the worth of humanity in a manner at once servile, degrading, and -despicable. An example of this we have in "Kätchen von Heilbronn." On -account of this cataclysm of life's essential interests the objects -of love cannot be realized without <i>collisions</i> in the theatre of the -world. For despite of love the general conditions of life make their -demand and assert their claims and the despotism of love's passion is -unable to maintain itself against them with impunity.</p> - -<p>(<i>α</i>) The first and most frequently exemplified type of collision we -may draw attention to is that between <i>honour</i> and <i>love.</i> In other -words, honour possesses just as love possesses in its own right this -infinitude of claim, and may accept a content, which may confront love -as a positive obstacle in its path. The obligations of honour may -require the sacrifice of love. From a certain point of view it would -be, for example, dishonourable for a man of high rank to wed one of the -lower classes. The distinction between class and class is a necessary -fact of natural condition as ordinarily<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_342" id="Page_342">[Pg 342]</a></span> presented<a name="FNanchor_250_250" id="FNanchor_250_250"></a><a href="#Footnote_250_250" class="fnanchor">[250]</a>. And so long -as our secular life has not been emancipated through the infinite -notion of true freedom, whatever may be the class or profession from -which that life in the particular individual and his free choice takes -its rise, to that extent it will always be Nature, that is, the birth -condition, which to a greater or less degree will, on the one hand, -determine the social position; and, on the other, these distinctions -of status, as they thus originate, and quite independently of general -grounds of honour, in so far as social position is made an affair of -honour, will maintain themselves as of absolute and infinite stability.</p> - -<p>(<i>β</i>) Quite apart, however, from questions of honour we must add as -a further example of collision that the eternal and <i>substantive</i> -powers themselves, the interests of the State, love of country, family -obligations, and the rest, come into conflict with love and preclude -its realization. Particularly in modern representations, in which the -objective conditions of life have been already elaborated in all their -available stringency, this is a favourite type of collision. Love is in -such cases, as itself an important right of the personal soul, either -set forth in opposition to other rights and duties, or despite of its -own recognition of such it enters upon a conflict with them reliant -upon itself and with the power of its private passion. The "Maid of -Orleans"<a name="FNanchor_251_251" id="FNanchor_251_251"></a><a href="#Footnote_251_251" class="fnanchor">[251]</a> is an example of a drama which rests upon a collision of -this kind.</p> - -<p>(<i>γ</i>) And in the <i>third</i> case we may find in a general way that -<i>external</i> condition and its impediments oppose obstacles in the path -of love. Such are the ordinary course of events, the prose of ordinary -existence, misfortunes, passion, prejudice, follies, the selfishness -of others, occurrences of every conceivable complexity and kind. Much -will here present itself that is hateful, terrible, and mean, for -it is mainly the evil, ruthless, and savage aspects of other forms -of human passion which work contrary to the tender spiritual beauty -of love. More particularly in later times we frequently come across -external collisions of this sort in dramas, narratives, and romances, -works whose main interest centres in a sympathy<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_343" id="Page_343">[Pg 343]</a></span> for the sufferings, -expectations, and ruined prospects of unhappy lovers and affect or -satisfy us by means of their bad or happy endings, or merely provide -entertainment. This type of conflict, however, on the ground that it -merely depends upon accidental matters, is a subordinate one.</p> - -<p>(<i>c</i>) No doubt love, from whatever of these points of view you choose -to regard it, possesses a lofty quality, in so far as it does not -merely remain an impulse of sex-attraction, but emphasizes the bounty -of a really rich, beautiful, and noble soul, and is a living, active, -courageous, and disinterested bond of union between one person and -another. But romantic love is also not without its <i>limitation.</i> -That which disappears from its content is the essentially realized -<i>universality.</i><a name="FNanchor_252_252" id="FNanchor_252_252"></a><a href="#Footnote_252_252" class="fnanchor">[252]</a> It is merely the <i>personal</i> feeling of one -particular individual, which does not attest itself as fulfilled -with interest of eternal import and the actual content of organic -human life, as made up of family, political aims, one's own country, -obligations of profession, status, freedom, and religion, but merely -with the personal consideration which is intent upon receiving again -such private feeling as reflected back from some one else. Such -a content of what is itself still but a formal mode of spiritual -life does not correspond in full truth to the totality, which the -essentially complete personality<a name="FNanchor_253_253" id="FNanchor_253_253"></a><a href="#Footnote_253_253" class="fnanchor">[253]</a> ought to be. In the family, -marriage, duty, and the State the personal feeling simply as such and -the unity which issues from it with some particular person and no other -is not the main point of interest. In the love of romance, however, -all centres in the fact that this man or woman loves that woman or man -and <i>no one else.</i> Yet it is precisely this fact that it is only this -or that person, which is solely based upon personal idiosyncracy, in -other words, the contingency of caprice.<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_344" id="Page_344">[Pg 344]</a></span> There is no lover who does -not think his beloved, no maiden who does not fancy her lover, as the -fairest and most supreme, to the exclusion of all others, although -they may appear very ordinary mortals in the eyes of other folk. But -in just this fact that all the world or, let us say, a large number, -act thus exclusively, and will not make an exception in favour of the -unique Aphrodite herself, but rather possess an Aphrodite of their -own, and very easily somewhat more than Aphrodite, we can only very -obviously conclude that there are many who pass for the same fairy -Princess, as no doubt every one knows well enough, that there are a -whole bevy of pretty or good and excellent girls in the world, all -of whom, or let us hope the majority, will secure their own lovers, -adorers, and husbands, to whom they doubtless appear as gifted in like -manner with all the beauty and virtue of Christendom. To bestow in -every case our preference on one, and only one, is obviously a wholly -private affair of the heart and of the separate individuality of each -person, and the incommensurable obstinacy in discovering as though by -a law of necessity one's life and supremest sense of such in just that -one individual is proof that it is a caprice no less infinite in its -significance than it is inevitable. We have without question in this -attitude the loftier freedom of the personal life and its absolute -power of choice recognized, the power to be, not merely as we find -in the "Phaedra" of Euripides, under the constraint of a pathos, a -divinity; but in regard to the absolutely individual volition, from -which such a liberty proceeds, such a choice appears at the same time -to be a mere idiosyncrasy, an inflexibility of that which is wholly -self-exclusive.</p> - -<p>For this reason the collisions of love, more particularly when it is -set in hostile opposition to substantive interests, retain an aspect of -contingency and lack of authorization, because it is the personal life -as such which confronts in opposition with a demand not independently -justifiable that which for its own essential sake has a claim to -recognition. The personalities in the lofty tragedy of the ancients -such as Agamemnon, Clytemnestra, Orestes, Oedipus, Antigone, and -Creon have, it is true, among other things a personal object; but the -substantive thing, the pathos, which as the content of their action is -the compelling force behind them,<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_345" id="Page_345">[Pg 345]</a></span> is of absolute authority, and for -this very reason, is also itself essentially of universal interest. -The destiny which affects them on account of their action does not -therefore move us on the ground that it is a fate of misfortune, -but because it is a misfortune which affects or redounds to their -honour. In other words the pathos, which will not rest until it is -satisfied, possesses an essentially necessary content. When the guilt -of Clytemnestra, in this concrete case of it, receives no punishment, -when the insult which Antigone receives as sister<a name="FNanchor_254_254" id="FNanchor_254_254"></a><a href="#Footnote_254_254" class="fnanchor">[254]</a> is not removed, -in both cases we have a substantial wrong. These sufferings of love, -however, these shattered hopes, this being in love generally, these -infinite pains experienced by lovers, this measureless happiness and -bliss which such imagine, are no such essential interest but rather -something that merely affects themselves. All men, it is true, should -be sensitive to love and may claim satisfaction in this respect. But -when a man fails to secure that object in some particular place, in -precisely this or that association, under just these circumstances -and in respect to one unique maiden we can admit no absolute wrong. -There is nothing essentially inevitable in the fact that a man should -capriciously select any particular young woman, and that we should -interest ourselves consequently for that which is in the highest degree -accidental, a caprice of his own conscious life, which carries with it -no impersonal expansion or universal significance. We have here the -source of that tendency to cool which we cannot help feeling in the -representation of the passion of romantic love however that passion may -be emphasized.</p> - - -<h6>3. FIDELITY</h6> - -<p>The third type of soul-life which is of importance to the romantic -consciousness on the field of its activity in the world is <i>fidelity.</i> -By fidelity in the sense we are now using it we do not mean either -the permanent adherence to the avowal of love once given, nor yet the -stability of friendship in the beautiful image of the same such as we -have left us by the ancients in that of Achilles and Patroclus, or with -yet more intimacy, that of Orestes and Pylades. Youth is pre-eminently -both the soil and the occasion from which<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_346" id="Page_346">[Pg 346]</a></span> friendship of this -latter type originates. Every man has to construct his path of life -independently, to work out and sustain a given mode of realization. The -time of youth, when individuals still live in an undefined atmosphere -of external relations which they share, is the one in which they -associate closely, and are bound together so nearly in <i>one</i> mode of -thought, volition, and activity, that everything that any one of them -undertakes becomes at the same time the undertaking of another. When -men attain maturity this is no longer the case. The circumstantial -life of the grown man pursues its independent course and will not -admit of so close an affiliation with that of another that we can -affirm of it that one cannot accomplish it without the other. Men make -acquaintances and then separate; their interests and business are at -one time disjoined, at another they coalesce; friendship, intimacy of -mutual opinions, of principles, and the general trend of their life may -remain; but this is not the friendship of youth, in which no individual -unit either makes a decision or carries it into effect without -inevitably making it a matter in which another is concerned. It is an -essential principle at the very root of our life that in general every -man must look after himself, must, in other words, prove by himself his -capacity to confront the reality which affects him.</p> - -<p>(<i>a</i>) Fidelity in friendship and love, then, subsists solely between -equals. The fidelity which we have now to consider is relative to a -superior, one more highly placed, a <i>master.</i> A fidelity of this type -is to be found even among the ancients in that of servants to the -family, the house of their lord. The most beautiful example of such a -relation is supplied us by the swine-herd of Odysseus, who sweats by -night and through tempest in order that he may look after his swine; -who is full of anxiety on his master's account, to whom he finally -gives loyal assistance against the suitors. Shakespeare offers us a -picture of fidelity no less moving, though it is here shown entirely -on the side of the feelings, in his "King Lear."<a name="FNanchor_255_255" id="FNanchor_255_255"></a><a href="#Footnote_255_255" class="fnanchor">[255]</a> Lear asks Kent, -"Dost thou know me, fellow?" And Kent replies: "No, sir; but you have -that in your countenance which I would fain call master." This borders -as close as possible on that which<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_347" id="Page_347">[Pg 347]</a></span> we would make clear as romantic -fidelity. Fidelity at this stage is not the loyalty of slaves and -churls, however true and pathetic such unquestionably may be, which is -none the less devoid of the free independence of individuality and its -unrestricted aims and actions, and is consequently of subordinate rank. -What we, in short, have before us is the liege-service of chivalry, in -which each vassal preserves intact his own free self-dependence as an -essential element in the attitude of subordination to one of higher -rank, whether lord, king, or emperor. This type of fidelity, however, -is a principle of supreme importance in chivalry for the reason that it -forms the fundamental bond of union in a common society and its social -co-ordination at least in the original form of its appearance.</p> - -<p>(<i>b</i>) The object which thus receives a fuller content and is made -apparent in this new type of association between individuals is not, -however, by any means patriotism regarding that as an objective and -universal interest, but a bond merely with one person, the lord, and -for this reason conditioned by private honour, personal advantage -and opinion. In its fullest brilliancy we find fidelity of this kind -in a surrounding world that is unregulated and uncouth, beyond the -control of right and law. Within a lawless reality of this kind the -most powerful and commanding spirits stand out as fixed points of -attraction, as leaders and nobles, and the rest rally round them of -their own free will. Such a condition is later on elaborated into a -legalized co-ordination of fealty, in which every vassal has his own -claim to rights and privilege. The fundamental principle, however, upon -which the entire system reposes is in its primary origins free choice, -no less in relation to the dependent vassal than to the conditions -under which he remains faithful to his vassalage. For this reason the -fidelity of chivalry is quite prepared to maintain property, right, and -personal independence and honour, and is on this account not simply -recognized as an <i>obligation</i> which may be enforced to the entire -disregard of the private inclinations of the vassal however they may -arise. Quite the contrary. Every subordinate unit only continues there -and helps to establish the general social order so long as the same -falls in with his own wishes, inclinations, and opinions.</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_348" id="Page_348">[Pg 348]</a></span></p> - -<p>(<i>c</i>) On this account fidelity and obedience to the feudal lord can -very readily clash with private feelings, an exasperated sense of -honour, sensitiveness to insult, love, and many other chance incidents -of the personal or external life. It is consequently of a highly -precarious character. A knight, for example, is loyal to his lord, -but a friend of his happens to quarrel with him. He has now to choose -between the two objects of his fidelity, and, chief of all, he has to -consider himself, the claims of his personal honour and advantage. -The most beautiful example of such a conflict we have in the "Cid." -He remains as true to himself as he is to his king. If the king acts -wisely he assists him with his arm's strength; if his feudal lord acts -wrongly or the Cid feels touched on the point of honour this powerful -support is withdrawn. The paladins of Charles the Great exhibit -much the same attitude. It is a tie of chieftainship and obedience -not unlike that which we have already observed between Zeus and the -other gods. The superior lord commands, blusters, and scolds, but the -independent and powerful individualities resist him precisely when and -as they please. We find the most consistent and charming picture of the -conditional and easy terms under which this bond is maintained in the -"Reinecke Fuchs." Just as the magnates in this kingdom are most really -true to their own aims and independence, we find that the German barons -and knights in the Middle Ages were not at home when called upon to -act for the sake of the general weal and their emperor; and it really -looks as though our chief praise of the Middle Ages must consist in -this that no man is in such a period justified in his own eyes or a man -of honour, except in so far as he runs after his own inclinations, in -other words, does precisely that which he is not suffered to do in a -State which is organized on a rational basis.</p> - -<p>In all these three stages of honour, love, and fidelity, we shall find -the soil on which the self-subsistency of personality, the soul, is -supported, an independence which, however, constantly unfolds in a -wider and more affluent content, remaining in the same self-reconciled. -Here stretches before us in romantic art the fairest strip of country -which we can find anywhere outside the enclosure of religion in its -strict sense, Its objects are concerned with that which<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_349" id="Page_349">[Pg 349]</a></span> is simply -human, a relation with which we can at least from one aspect of it, -namely, that of personal freedom, absolutely sympathize, and we do -not find here, as we do now and again in the religious field, both -a material and modes of representation which clash with our modern -notions. But at the same time we must add that our present subject -matter may very frequently be brought into direct relation to religion -so that religious interests are interwoven with those of the world -of chivalry; as, for example, was the case in the adventures of the -knights of the round table in their quest of the Holy Grail. In this -interfusion we find not only much that is mystical and fantastical, -but also much that is allegorical added to the poetry of chivalry. And -conversely this secular sphere of the interests of love, honour, and -fidelity may also be totally unconnected with the deepening of their -content with religious aims and opinions, and only bring to view the -earliest movement of soul-life in the secular aspect of its spiritual -intensity. That which, however, drops away from the present levels is -the repletion of this inner life with the concrete content of human -conditions, characters, passions, and realized existence generally. In -contrast to this variety the essentially infinite soul still remains -abstract and formal, and has therefore in front of it the task, to -accept as part of its own this further material with what it held -before, and to exhibit the same in the forms congenial to artistic -composition.</p> -<hr class="r5" /> -<div class="footnote"> - -<p><a name="Footnote_241_241" id="Footnote_241_241"></a><a href="#FNanchor_241_241"><span class="label">[241]</span></a> He has not in this exclusive sense of religiosity -identified himself with the spirit of the Christian community. <i>Der -Anderen</i> refers to <i>Gemeinschaft.</i> Such appears to me the sense.</p></div> - -<div class="footnote"> - -<p><a name="Footnote_242_242" id="Footnote_242_242"></a><a href="#FNanchor_242_242"><span class="label">[242]</span></a> <i>Zur Wirklichkeit entfaltetes Leben.</i></p></div> - -<div class="footnote"> - -<p><a name="Footnote_243_243" id="Footnote_243_243"></a><a href="#FNanchor_243_243"><span class="label">[243]</span></a> Put more simply we may say in popular terminology that -it is filled up or amplified by virtue of the sense of individual -personality. This Hegel himself further elucidates below. Falstaff -undoubtedly possessed a strong personality, but in his famous soliloquy -on honour he deliberately emptied himself of any sense of it by -refusing to view himself under the self-relation, that is self-respect.</p></div> - -<div class="footnote"> - -<p><a name="Footnote_244_244" id="Footnote_244_244"></a><a href="#FNanchor_244_244"><span class="label">[244]</span></a> I fail to appreciate this distinction, except in a very -qualified form. Even in the Middle Ages when the feudal relation was in -full force, the relation between the master and the servant was surely -one of the institutions of the State, though no doubt the rights of the -dependent were not always very readily enforced. Even in the case of -slavery in the Southern States of America the relation between master -and slave carried with it quite definite ethical obligations—there was -in general at least quite a distinct social if not actually political -status.</p></div> - -<div class="footnote"> - -<p><a name="Footnote_245_245" id="Footnote_245_245"></a><a href="#FNanchor_245_245"><span class="label">[245]</span></a> I suppose Hegel means by <i>ein Punkt</i> a centre or point -of life. The expression is rather unusual.</p></div> - -<div class="footnote"> - -<p><a name="Footnote_246_246" id="Footnote_246_246"></a><a href="#FNanchor_246_246"><span class="label">[246]</span></a> <i>Absoluten Geltung</i>, that is its absolute validity in -its ideal character.</p></div> - -<div class="footnote"> - -<p><a name="Footnote_247_247" id="Footnote_247_247"></a><a href="#FNanchor_247_247"><span class="label">[247]</span></a> The punctuation in text is defective.</p></div> - -<div class="footnote"> - -<p><a name="Footnote_248_248" id="Footnote_248_248"></a><a href="#FNanchor_248_248"><span class="label">[248]</span></a> So runs the text. It comes from such a writer with a -shock. Why such qualities should vanish (<i>schwinden</i>) in the presence -of unhappiness it is not easy to see. It would rather appear that such -was the condition to evoke them. What is meant is, I suppose, that the -failure of <i>reciprocity</i>, especially in the love of women, often brings -complete collapse. We may illustrate it in several of Meredith's novels -such as "Diana" and "Sandra Belloni."</p></div> - -<div class="footnote"> - -<p><a name="Footnote_249_249" id="Footnote_249_249"></a><a href="#FNanchor_249_249"><span class="label">[249]</span></a> The two sides would appear to be the secularity of the -social organism and "free" love.</p></div> - -<div class="footnote"> - -<p><a name="Footnote_250_250" id="Footnote_250_250"></a><a href="#FNanchor_250_250"><span class="label">[250]</span></a> This I think is the meaning. Until the full notion of -liberty is apprehended the divisions of class will have the appearance -of natural necessity.</p></div> - -<div class="footnote"> - -<p><a name="Footnote_251_251" id="Footnote_251_251"></a><a href="#FNanchor_251_251"><span class="label">[251]</span></a> Schiller's drama of that name.</p></div> - -<div class="footnote"> - -<p><a name="Footnote_252_252" id="Footnote_252_252"></a><a href="#FNanchor_252_252"><span class="label">[252]</span></a> <i>Die an und für sich seyende Allgemeinheit.</i> The -universal notion as explicitly made actual in life.</p></div> - -<div class="footnote"> - -<p><a name="Footnote_253_253" id="Footnote_253_253"></a><a href="#FNanchor_253_253"><span class="label">[253]</span></a> <i>Ein in sich konkretes Individuum.</i> The whole of this -analysis appears to me a rather abstract and professorial consideration -of romantic attachment, separating love from its reality of association -and relation in actual life. In so far as it is true it is purely -abstract truth, and must be regarded as such. In actual life it is no -more true that even in the average case misfortune blights the blossom -than it is true that the love of the individual concentrates itself -solely on the mere attachment between two persons. It is bound up with -the idea of family and continuation of the race, and so indirectly with -the State.</p></div> - -<div class="footnote"> - -<p><a name="Footnote_254_254" id="Footnote_254_254"></a><a href="#FNanchor_254_254"><span class="label">[254]</span></a> As sister of her violated brother Polyneices.</p></div> - -<div class="footnote"> - -<p><a name="Footnote_255_255" id="Footnote_255_255"></a><a href="#FNanchor_255_255"><span class="label">[255]</span></a> Act I, sc. 4.</p> - -<hr class="chap" /> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_350" id="Page_350">[Pg 350]</a></span></p></div> - - - - -<h5>CHAPTER III</h5> - -<h4>THE FORMAL SELF-SUBSISTENCY OF INDIVIDUAL PARTICULARITIES</h4> - -<p>If we take a glance back on the territory we have passed through, we -see in the first instance that the object of our investigation was -the life of the soul<a name="FNanchor_256_256" id="FNanchor_256_256"></a><a href="#Footnote_256_256" class="fnanchor">[256]</a> in its most absolute capacity, in other -words, consciousness in its mediation with God, the universal process -of the self-reconciling spirit. The abstraction of this point of view -consisted in this that the soul by an effort of abnegation withdrew -itself from all that was secular, purely natural and human—even -when the same had ethical features, and for this reason possessed a -claim upon us—into its own distinctive domain in order to satisfy -its yearning for the pure heaven of spirit. <i>Secondly</i>, we found -ourselves able, it is true, to bring into view the human consciousness -without this factor of abstract negation which was included in that -mediation, in other words, positively in its independence and as -related to others<a name="FNanchor_257_257" id="FNanchor_257_257"></a><a href="#Footnote_257_257" class="fnanchor">[257]</a>, but the content of this secular infinitude as -such was none the less only the personal self-subsistency of honour, -the intensiveness<a name="FNanchor_258_258" id="FNanchor_258_258"></a><a href="#Footnote_258_258" class="fnanchor">[258]</a> of love and the vassalage of fidelity, a -content which, no doubt, may appear before us in many relations, in a -many-folded variety and many gradations of feeling and passion, subject -to the most extensive changes of external condition, yet for all that -only propounds just this personal independence and inwardness within -such examples. The <i>third</i> aspect, then, which we have now left us to -examine is the mode and manner in which that further material of human<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_351" id="Page_351">[Pg 351]</a></span> -existence, both on the side of its inward and its external life, that -is to say, Nature and its apprehension and significance for soul-life, -is able to enter into the romantic type of art. We have here to deal -with the world of particular objects, determinate existence generally, -regarded in its unfettered independence, and which, in so far as it -does not appear transparent to religion and spiritual synthesis, -bringing it into unity with the Absolute, asserts itself on its own -foothold and declares its self-subsistence in its own kingdom.</p> - -<p>In this third province of the romantic type of art consequently the -purely religious material and chivalry with those lofty views and aims -that we found it brings to birth from its spiritual womb<a name="FNanchor_259_259" id="FNanchor_259_259"></a><a href="#Footnote_259_259" class="fnanchor">[259]</a>, but -which were not directly concordant with anything visible in the reality -of the existing world, have vanished. The new object of satisfaction -is a thirst for this actual presence itself, a delight in the facts of -existence, a contentment of the soul with the dwelling that confronts -it, with the finitude of our humanity, and what is finite, particular, -and the true counterfeit of such generally. Man is intent to recreate -for his own world the world as he actually finds it, although such -may imply a sacrifice of the Beauty and ideality of the content and -manifestation will reflect it as it stands before him endowed with -life in his art, will have that present life before his eyes as the -work of his own mind. The religion of Christianity as we have already -seen has not sprung up from the soil of the imagination as was the -case with the divinities of the East and Greece, whether we consider -them relatively to form or content. It is the imagination which -fashions the vital significance out of its own resources in order to -promote the unity between the reality of soul life with the perfected -embodiment of the same. In classical art this complete coalescence is -actually attained. In the Christian religion, on the other hand, the -secular aspect in its exclusive character is from the first accepted -for just that which it really is as an essential factor of the Ideal; -and the soul of man finds satisfaction in the ordinary and contingent -presence of the external world without the necessary interposition of -beauty. But man is nevertheless in the first instance reconciled to<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_352" id="Page_352">[Pg 352]</a></span> -God only by implication, and as a possible result. All men are called -to the blessed condition, but few are chosen; and the soul for which -both the kingdom of heaven and that of this world still remain as a -"beyond" is constrained to renounce both that which is spiritual in the -external world and its own presence therein. The point of departure is -from a distance infinitely remote from that world; and to make this -reality, which in the first instance is simply surrendered, a positive -constituent of that which is man's own, in other words to bring about -this rediscovery of himself and his volition in his own present life, -from which all takes its rise, this it is which supplies us first with -a terminating point in the elaboration of romantic art, and is the -final outlook to which the spiritual penetration of man is carried and -on which it is concentrated.</p> - -<p>In so far as the form of this new content is concerned we have already -observed that romantic art from its first initiation was infected -with the contradiction that the essentially infinite mode of the -self-conscious life is, in its independence, incapable of being united -with the external material, and is bound to remain in such separation. -This independent opposition of both aspects and the withdrawal of the -inwardness of spirit into its own domain is that which constitutes the -content of romance. These two aspects are continually separated anew -by self-rehabilitation<a name="FNanchor_260_260" id="FNanchor_260_260"></a><a href="#Footnote_260_260" class="fnanchor">[260]</a>, until at length they fall entirely apart, -and thereby demonstrate that we must search for some <i>other field</i> than -<i>Art</i> to secure their absolute union. And by this falling apart we find -that these aspects in their relation to art are <i>formal</i>; in other -words they fail to appear as a totality in that complete type of unity -which was secured to them by the Classic Ideal. Classical art is placed -in a region of stable figures, that is in the midst of a mythology -and its irresoluble types perfected by art. The resolution of the -classical form is consequently brought about—as we found in discussing -its transition to the romantic form—leaving out of our present -consideration the generally more restricted territory of the comic and -satyric modes—by an over-elaboration in the<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_353" id="Page_353">[Pg 353]</a></span> direction of all that -pleases the senses or an imitation which loses itself in the deadly -frost of a pedantic learning, till it at length entirely degenerates -into a negligent and inferior technique. The objects of art remain, -however, the same throughout the process, and merely play truant to -the earlier intelligent mode of production with a presentation that is -increasingly more spiritless and a purely traditional and mechanical -technique. The progress and conclusion of romantic art on the contrary -is the resolution of the material of art within its own boundaries<a name="FNanchor_261_261" id="FNanchor_261_261"></a><a href="#Footnote_261_261" class="fnanchor">[261]</a> -altogether, a material which falls apart into its elements, an -increase of freedom in the several parts, along with which process and -in contrast to the previous case, the individual craftsmanship and -artistic mode of presentment is enhanced; and in proportion as the -substantive content tends to break up to that extent attains a fuller -perfection.</p> - -<p>We may now attempt a more specific subdivision of this the final -chapter of this part of our subject in the following terms.</p> - -<p>In the first place we have before us <i>the self-subsistency of -character</i>, which is, however, a particular one, that is, a definite -individual self-absorbed in its world, its specific qualities and aims.</p> - -<p>In opposition to this formal particularity of character we have the -external conformation of situations, events, and actions. For the -reason, moreover, that the inward spirituality of romance stands -generally in an indifferent relation to that which is external the -actual phenomenon<a name="FNanchor_262_262" id="FNanchor_262_262"></a><a href="#Footnote_262_262" class="fnanchor">[262]</a> appears in the present case independently free, -that is as neither permeated by the spiritual content of human aims and -actions nor clothed in modes adequate to retain them. By reason of its -unrelated and loose mode of manifestation it therefore enforces the -contingency of natural processes<a name="FNanchor_263_263" id="FNanchor_263_263"></a><a href="#Footnote_263_263" class="fnanchor">[263]</a>, circumstances, the sequence of -events, and manner of its realization as <i>the unexpected.</i><a name="FNanchor_264_264" id="FNanchor_264_264"></a><a href="#Footnote_264_264" class="fnanchor">[264]</a></p> - -<p>In the <i>third</i> place, and finally, the severation of the two factors -asserts itself, the complete identity of which supplies<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_354" id="Page_354">[Pg 354]</a></span> us with -the real notion of art. This is consequently the dismemberment and -dissolution of art itself. On the one hand we find that art passes to -a representation of wholly commonplace reality, to the reflection of -objects precisely as they appear in their contingent isolation and its -equally singular characteristics. Its interest is now wholly absorbed -in reproducing this objective existence by means of the technical -ability of the artist. On the other hand we have, in what is a mode -of conception and representation entirely dependent on the accidental -idiosyncracy of the artist himself, that is in humour, a complete -reversal of the pictorial style above mentioned. For in <i>humour</i> we -meet with the perversion and overthrow of all that is objectively solid -in reality; it works through the wit and play of wholly personal points -of view, and if carried to an extreme amounts to the triumph of the -creative power of the artist's soul over every content and every form.</p> - - -<h6>1. THE SELF-SUBSISTENCY OR INDEPENDENCE OF INDIVIDUAL CHARACTER</h6> - -<p>The fundamental determinant of our present subject-matter is once again -that infinitude implied in the very nature of the human consciousness -which was our point of departure in the romantic type of art. The new -accretions we have now, however, to add to our conception of this mode -of self-subsistent infinity consist partly in the <i>particularity</i> -of content, which constitutes the world of the individual mind, as -to a further aspect of it in the immediate coalescence of the ego -with this its particularity, its wishes and objects, and thirdly, -in the living individuality, in which the substantive character is -self-determined. We are not, therefore, entitled to understand under -the expression "character" as now employed that which the Italians -represented in their masks. The Italian masks are also no doubt -definite characters, but this definition is only presented by them -in its abstraction and generality, without a personal individuality. -The characters, on the other hand, of the type under discussion are -each of them a character unique in itself, an<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_355" id="Page_355">[Pg 355]</a></span> independent whole, an -individual person<a name="FNanchor_265_265" id="FNanchor_265_265"></a><a href="#Footnote_265_265" class="fnanchor">[265]</a>. If we have, therefore, occasion here to refer -to the formalism and abstraction of character, such an expression is -entirely relative to the fact that the fundamental content, the world -of such a character appears, on the one hand, as restricted and to that -extent abstract, and, on the other, as qualified by accidental causes. -What the individual is is not carried or sustained by virtue of what -is substantive or essentially self-accredited<a name="FNanchor_266_266" id="FNanchor_266_266"></a><a href="#Footnote_266_266" class="fnanchor">[266]</a> in its content, -but through the naked personality asserted by the character, which -consequently reposes formally on its own individual self-subsistency -rather than on its content and its independently secured pathos.</p> - -<p>Within the limits of this formalism we may now observe <i>two</i> main lines -of distinction.</p> - -<p>On the one hand we have the stability of character in the energy of its -<i>executive</i> power, which restricts its line of action to specific aims, -and entrusts the concentrated force of individuality thus restricted to -the realization of such objects. On the other hand we have character -under the aspect of a totality that is <i>personal</i>, which, however, -persists not wholly articulated throughout the content of that inward -life and in the unsounded<a name="FNanchor_267_267" id="FNanchor_267_267"></a><a href="#Footnote_267_267" class="fnanchor">[267]</a> depths of the soul, and is unable to -unravel itself wholly, or express itself with absolute clarity.</p> - -<p>(<i>a</i>) What we have therefore before us, in the first instance, is the -particular character which wills to be that its immediate presence -proposes, Just as animals differ from each other and discover -themselves as independent creatures in this difference, so, too, here -we have different characters whose range and idiosyncracy remains -subject to the element of contingency<a name="FNanchor_268_268" id="FNanchor_268_268"></a><a href="#Footnote_268_268" class="fnanchor">[268]</a>, and is not to be accurately -determined by the mere notion.</p> - -<p>(<i>α</i>) An individuality of this kind built up entirely on itself -consequently has no ready thought-out opinions and objects, which -it has associated with any universal principle of pathos:<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_356" id="Page_356">[Pg 356]</a></span> all that -it-possesses, does, and accomplishes it creates right away with no -further reflection out of its own specific nature; which is just -what it happens to be, and has no wish to be rooted in anything more -exalted, to be resolved in that and to find its justification in -something substantive. Rather it reposes unyielding and unmalleable -on itself, and in this stability either goes on its way or goes to -ground. A self-subsistency of character of this kind is only able to -appear, where the secular or natural man<a name="FNanchor_269_269" id="FNanchor_269_269"></a><a href="#Footnote_269_269" class="fnanchor">[269]</a>, in other words, humanity -in its particularity has secured its fullest claim. Pre-eminently the -characters of Shakespeare are of this type. It is just this iron<a name="FNanchor_270_270" id="FNanchor_270_270"></a><a href="#Footnote_270_270" class="fnanchor">[270]</a> -steadfastness and exclusiveness which constitutes the aspect of them -which most excites our wonder. We have no word here of religion for -religion's sake, or action as the embodiment of human reconciliation, -in the unqualified religious sense, or of morality pure and simple. -On the contrary we are presented with individuals, conceived as -dependent solely on themselves, possessed with aims that are their -own exclusively, exclusively deducible from their individuality, and -which they carry through as best satisfies them with the unmitigated -consequences of passion, and with no incidental reflection on the -principles involved. In particular the tragedies, such as "Macbeth," -"Othello," "Richard III" and others contain one character of this type -for their main interest surrounded by others less pre-eminent for such -elemental energy. Macbeth is forced by his character, for example, into -the fetters of his ambitious passion. At first he hesitates, then he -stretches his hand to seize the crown; he commits a murder in order -to secure it, and in order to maintain it storms on through the tale -of horror. This regardless tenacity, this identity of the man with -himself, and the object which his own personality brings to birth is -the source to him of an abiding interest. Nothing makes him budge, -neither the respect for the sacredness of kingship, nor the madness of -his wife, nor the rout of his vassals, nor destruction as it rushes -upon him, neither divine nor human claims—he withdraws from them -all into himself and persists.<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_357" id="Page_357">[Pg 357]</a></span> Lady Macbeth is a character of the -same mould, and it is merely the chatter of our latter-day tasteless -criticism which can find in her the least flavour of affection. At -her very first entrance, on reading Macbeth's letter reporting his -meeting with the witches and their prophecy in the words<a name="FNanchor_271_271" id="FNanchor_271_271"></a><a href="#Footnote_271_271" class="fnanchor">[271]</a>: "Hail to -thee, thane of Cawdor! Hail to thee king that shall be!" she exclaims, -"Glamis thou art and Cawdor; and shall be what thou art promised. Yet -do I fear thy nature; it is too full o' the milk of human kindness, to -catch the nearest way." She shows no affectionate trait, no joy over -the happiness of her husband, no moral emotion, no sympathy, no pity -of a noble soul; she simply fears lest the character of her husband -will stand in the path of his ambition. She regards him simply as a -means. With her there is no recoil, no uncertainty, no consideration, -no retreating, as we find is at first the case with Macbeth, no -repentance, but the pure abstraction and rigour of character, which -perpetrates that which falls in with it, until it finally breaks. -This collapse which comes in a tempest on Macbeth from the outside as -he executes his object, becomes madness of the mind in Lady Macbeth. -Of the same type is Richard III, Othello, the old Margaret and many -another also. We have its opposite in the wretched coherence<a name="FNanchor_272_272" id="FNanchor_272_272"></a><a href="#Footnote_272_272" class="fnanchor">[272]</a> of -modern characters, such as those of Kotzebue, which are outwardly noble -in the highest degree, great and excellent, yet in their soul-force -are all rags and tatters. Later writers have done no better in other -relations, despite their supreme contempt for Kotzebue. Heinrich von -Kleish is an example with his Kätchen and Prince von Homburg<a name="FNanchor_273_273" id="FNanchor_273_273"></a><a href="#Footnote_273_273" class="fnanchor">[273]</a>, -characters in which, in contrast to the alert condition of real causal -effect, magnetism, somnambulism, and sleep-walking are depicted as -that which is of highest and most effective moment. This Prince von -Homburg is a most pitiable exhibition of a general; he is distracted -when he makes his military dispositions, writes out his orders in a -way none can decipher them, is engaged in the night previous to the -battle with morbid forebodings, and acts on the day of battle like a -fool. And despite such duality, raggedness, and<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_358" id="Page_358">[Pg 358]</a></span> lack of harmony in -their characters these writers imagine that they tread in the footsteps -of Shakespeare. Wide indeed is the distance which separates them, for -the characters of Shakespeare are essentially consequent in what they -do; they remain staunch to their master passion; in what they are and -in what confronts them, nothing makes them veer round but what is in -strict accord with their rigidly determinate character.</p> - -<p>(<i>β</i>) The more particular, then, the character is, which relies purely -on itself, and consequently readily approaches evil, to that extent -it is forced in the concrete world of reality to maintain itself, not -merely against the obstacles which lie in its path and prevent the -realization of life's aims, but so much more by this very realization -such is driven headlong to its downfall. In other words, on account -of the fact that it achieves its object, the fate that has its origin -in the specific nature of its character itself, deals it a blow in a -mode of destruction it has itself prepared. The development of this -fatality is, however, not merely a development from the <i>action</i> of the -particular personality, but quite as much a growth of the soul<a name="FNanchor_274_274" id="FNanchor_274_274"></a><a href="#Footnote_274_274" class="fnanchor">[274]</a>, -a development of the <i>character</i> itself in its headlong movement, -its running wild, its shattering in pieces or exhaustion. Among the -Greeks, for whom pathos, the substantive content of action, rather -than the personal character, is the important feature, a destiny -affects the character that is thus sharply defined to a less degree for -this reason, that it is not further evolved within the sphere of its -activities, but remains at their conclusion what it was at the start. -In the compass of our present subject-matter, however, by the carrying -through of the action itself, the inner life of the personality is -evolved quite as much as the progress of the action; the advance is -not simply on the outside. The action of Macbeth appears at the same -time a descent of the soul into savagery, accompanied by a result -which, when all irresolution is thrown to the winds, and the dice is -cast, leaves nothing further able to restrain it. His wife is from the -very first decided: development is shown here merely as the anxiety -of the soul, which is carried to the point of physical and spiritual -ruin, the madness, in short, which strikes her down. And<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_359" id="Page_359">[Pg 359]</a></span> this is the -kind of process which we can follow in the majority of Shakespeare's -characters, whether important or unimportant. The characters of ancient -drama assert themselves, no doubt, also on fixed lines, and we find -them even face to face with opposed forces, relief from which is no -longer possible except through the advent of a <i>deus ex machina.</i> Yet -this stability, as in the case of Philoctetes, is united to a content, -and, on the whole, penetrated with a pathos which may be vindicated on -ethical grounds.</p> - -<p>(<i>γ</i>) In the sphere of presentation we are now considering, owing to -the contingent nature of all that the characters which belong to it -seize upon as their aim and the independence of their individuality, -no <i>objective reconciliation</i> is possible. The environment of all that -they are, and what opposes their progress, is in part without defined -lines, but also in part we see that there is neither a "Whence" nor a -"Whither" unriddled for themselves. Here we have once more presented -to us that Fate which is the most abstract form of Necessity. The only -reconciliation of the individual issues from the infinite mode of his -soul-life, his own steadfastness, in which he stands supreme over his -passion and his destiny. "Thus it came to pass,"<a name="FNanchor_275_275" id="FNanchor_275_275"></a><a href="#Footnote_275_275" class="fnanchor">[275]</a> whatever falls -in his way, whether it be due to a controlling destiny, necessity or -accident, there is his "Wherefore"; he accepts it at once without -further reflection. It is fact, and man adjusts himself thereto, and -tries to make himself as stone toward its authority.</p> - -<p>(<i>b</i>) In absolute contrast to the above, however, there is a further -or <i>second</i> mode in which the formal aspect of character may find its -seat within the <i>innermost</i> of soul-life, and in which the individual -may remain fixed without being able to extend its range or execute its -effects.</p> - -<p>(<i>α</i>) Such are those spiritual natures of intrinsic substance, who, -while self-absorbed in a complex whole, are only able in the simplicity -of their compactness<a name="FNanchor_276_276" id="FNanchor_276_276"></a><a href="#Footnote_276_276" class="fnanchor">[276]</a> to perfect that profound activity within the -shrine of the soul without further development or explication in the -world around them. The formalism which we have hitherto been examining -was<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_360" id="Page_360">[Pg 360]</a></span> relative to the defined character of the content, the entire -self-concentration<a name="FNanchor_277_277" id="FNanchor_277_277"></a><a href="#Footnote_277_277" class="fnanchor">[277]</a> of the individual upon one object, which it -makes to appear in all its unrelieved severity, a concentration which -expressed itself, was carried out, and in which, just as circumstances -fell out, either collapsed or held on to the end. This further mode -of formalism is emphasized in a converse way by its undisclosed and -formless character, and by its defect of expression and expository -power. A soul of this type is like some precious jewel, which is only -visible at certain points, a manifestation which is that of a lightning -flash.</p> - -<p>(<i>β</i>) And the reason that such state of self-seclusion should still be -of worth and interest to us is due to the fact that it presupposes a -secret wealth of the soul, which, however, only permits its infinite -depth and fulness, and precisely, by means of this silence, to show -itself in a few and so to speak half-muted ways of expression. Such -simple natures, unconscious of what they possess, and without speech, -may exercise an extraordinary fascination. But that this may be so -their silence must be like the unruffled stillness of the sea upon -its surface, over its unsounded depths, not the silence of all that -is shallow, hollow, and stupid. It is quite possible sometimes for -the dullest fellow to succeed by means of an external demeanour that -manages very little to expose itself, and merely presents now and -again something that is but half intelligible, to awake in others -the opinion that it is the veil of a profound wisdom and spiritual -depth, so that people wonder what in the world lies hidden in such a -heart and soul, where we find in the end there is just nothing. The -infinite content and profundity of <i>silent</i> souls of the genuine type -is made clear to us—and to declare it makes the greatest demand on -the intuitive powers and executive ability of the artist—by means of -isolated, unrelated, naïve, and involuntary expressions of soul-life, -which quite unintentionally make it plain to all who can grasp their -significance that such a soul has seized upon the substantial import -of all that confronts it with the richest quality of spiritual -insight, that its reflective capacity, however, is not carried further -by positive expansion into the general environment of particular -interests, motives, and<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_361" id="Page_361">[Pg 361]</a></span> finite aims, but rather preserves its original -purity that the fact it refuses to have its powers dissipated by the -commonplace excitements of the heart and the serious quests and modes -of sympathy which are thus inevitable, may remain unknown to the world.</p> - -<p>(<i>γ</i>) A time must, however, arrive for a soul of this type in which -it becomes uniquely affected at one definite point of attachment in -that inward worlds it concentrates the whole of its undivided powers -in one supreme form of emotion that dominates its life-current; it -adheres to this with a force that refuses to be diverted, and secures -happiness therein, or goes to ground from lack of support. To retain -a hold on life a man requires a constantly expanding breadth of -ethical sustenance, which alone supplies an objective stability. To -this type of character belong some of the most fascinating figures in -romantic art, whose full perfection of beauty we shall find among the -creations of Shakespeare. As an illustration we may take the Juliet -in his "Romeo and Juliet." It is possible at this moment to see a -reproduction of this play in this city<a name="FNanchor_278_278" id="FNanchor_278_278"></a><a href="#Footnote_278_278" class="fnanchor">[278]</a>. It is well worth going -to. The picture we have given us there of this character is a moving, -lifelike, passionate, talented, highly finished and noble one. But for -all that it is possible to entertain a somewhat different conception -of the part. In other words, we may figure for ourselves a maiden in -the first instance simple as a child, of only fourteen or fifteen years -of age, who, it is quite clear, has as yet no self-knowledge or world -wisdom, no emotional activity, no strong inclination or wishes of the -heart, but has rather glanced into the motley show of the world as into -some <i>laterna magica</i> without learning anything from it, or reflecting -upon what is seen there. All in a twinkling we behold the development -of the entire strength of this soul, of its artfulness<a name="FNanchor_279_279" id="FNanchor_279_279"></a><a href="#Footnote_279_279" class="fnanchor">[279]</a>, its -circumspection, its force; it is prepared to sacrifice everything and -to submit itself to the severest ordeals, so that in its entirety it -now suddenly appears to be the first breaking forth of the full rose -in all its petals and folds, an infinite outburst of the innermost -purity which gushes from the spring source of the soul, in<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_362" id="Page_362">[Pg 362]</a></span> which it -had held itself back previously as yet undiscerned, unmoulded and -undeveloped; which moreover, as the now existing creation of <i>one</i> -awakened interest, betrays itself unpremeditated in the fulness and -strength of its beauty from the previous seclusion of spirit. It is -a brand which one spark has kindled, a bud which at the first bare -touch of love breaks unawares before us in full bloom. And yet the -faster it unfolds the more rapidly it also sinks, and its petals -fall from it. An impetuous progress is still more conspicuous in the -case of Miranda. Brought up in seclusion we have her portrayed for -us by Shakespeare at the critical moment when she first makes the -acquaintance of manhood<a name="FNanchor_280_280" id="FNanchor_280_280"></a><a href="#Footnote_280_280" class="fnanchor">[280]</a>. He depicts her in a few scenes, but in -those we get a picture that is complete and unforgettable. We may -also include Schiller's Thecla under the same type, despite the fact -that it is rather the creation of a reflective kind of poetry<a name="FNanchor_281_281" id="FNanchor_281_281"></a><a href="#Footnote_281_281" class="fnanchor">[281]</a>. -Though placed in the midst of a life of such amplitude and richness she -remains unaffected by it; she remains within it without vanity, without -reflection, purely absorbed by the one interest which alone dominates -her soul. And as a general rule it is chiefly the beautiful and noble -natures of women, in which the world and their own heart-life blossoms -for the first time in love, so that it is as though their spiritual -birth here takes its rise.</p> - -<p>Under the same type of spiritual intensity, which is unable fully to -unfold itself, we may for the most part classify those folksongs, more -particularly our German ones, which, in the copious compactness of the -soul-life therein reflected, and however much such is displayed to -us as carried away by any one absorbing interest, are yet unable to -express the same except in broken flashes, and thereby fully reveal -just this very depth. It is a mode of artistic presentment, which in -its reserve is apt to fall back on the effects of symbolism. What it -offers us is not so much the open, transparent display of the entire -inward life as it is purely a <i>sign</i> and indication of that life. -But we do not get, however, from it a symbol, the significance of -which, as was the case previously, remains a general abstraction, but -an expression<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_363" id="Page_363">[Pg 363]</a></span> the inward content of which is nothing more nor less -than this personal, living, and actual soul. In times like our own, -dominated by a critical reflectiveness, which lies so far removed from -a self-absorbed <i>naïveté</i> of this kind, such presentations are of the -greatest difficulty, and if successful, are a sure proof of an original -creative genius. We have already seen that Goethe, more particularly in -his lyrics, has shown himself a master in this respect, namely, that he -can depict and unfold to us in a symbolical way, in other words with a -few simple, apparently external and insignificant traits, the entire -truth and infinite wealth of a soul. His poem, "The King of Thule," one -of his most lovely bits of poetical work, is of this class. The king -here makes us aware of his love by just one thing only, namely, the -drinking cup which the old man preserved as a gift of his beloved. The -old carouser stands up there on the point of death in his lofty palace -hall; his knights, his kingdom, his possessions are around him; and -he bequeaths them all to his heir, but the goblet he flings into the -waves; no one shall have that.</p> - -<p> -<span style="margin-left: 2.5em;">Er sah ihn stürzen, trinken,</span><br /> -<span style="margin-left: 2.5em;">Und sinken tief in's Meer,</span><br /> -<span style="margin-left: 2.5em;">Die Augen thäten ihm sinken,</span><br /> -<span style="margin-left: 2.5em;">Trank nie ein Tropfen mehr<a name="FNanchor_282_282" id="FNanchor_282_282"></a><a href="#Footnote_282_282" class="fnanchor">[282]</a>.</span><br /> -</p> - -<p>A soul, however profound and still of this kind, which retains its -energy of spirit pent up like the spark in the flint, unopened to -form, which does not elaborate its existence and reflection beyond its -own boundaries, has also failed to free itself by such expansion. It -remains exposed to the remorseless contradiction that, if the false -note of unhappiness ring through its life, it possesses no remedial -aptitude, no bridge as a way of passage between the heart and reality; -it is equally unable to ward off external conditions from itself, and -by so doing to preserve an independent ground of vantage in its own -self-reliance. When the collision comes therefore it is helpless; it -acts hastily and<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_364" id="Page_364">[Pg 364]</a></span> without circumspection, or bows passively to the -movement of events. So, for example, we have in Hamlet a beautiful -and noble soul; one not so much spiritually weak, but one that -wanders astray without a strong grasp of life's realities, moving in -an atmosphere of dejection, a sombre and half articulate melancholy. -Gifted with a finely intuitive sense he feels that all is not well with -him, that things are not as they should be though he has no external -sign, no single ground for suspicion; nevertheless he surmises the -atrocious deed that has been perpetrated. The ghost of his father -gives yet closer embodiment to his feelings. He is at once ready in -spirit to revenge, his sense of duty is always before him reflecting -the innermost craving of his heart, but he is not carried away with -the flood, as Macbeth; he cannot either kill, rage, or strike with the -directness of a Laertes; he persists in the inactivity of a beautiful, -introspective soul, which can neither realize its aims nor make itself -at home in the conditions of actual life. He dallies, seeks for more -positive certainty buoyed up by the fair integrity of his soul; he -can, however, come to no firm decision, much as he has sought it, -and permits himself to follow the course of external events. In this -atmosphere of unreality he goes yet further astray in matters that lie -directly in his path; he kills the old Polonius instead of the king; -he acts in a hurry where he should have been more circumspect, yet -persists in his self absorption, where decided action is essential; -until at length, without any action on his part, the fated <i>dénouement</i> -of the entire drama, including that of his own persistently -self-retiring personality, has unravelled itself on the broad highway -of Life's external incidents and accidents.</p> - -<p>We are particularly presented with this attitude in modern times -among men of the lower levels of life, who are without an education -which extends to aims of universal significance, or are devoid of the -variety of objective interests. Consequently when some <i>particular</i> -aim of their life fails they are unable to secure any further stay of -their spiritual forces and a centre of control for their activities. -This lack of education tends to make reserved natures, in proportion -as it is undeveloped, adhere with the more rigidness and obstinacy to -that which, through its appeal to their entire individuality, makes -a claim upon them however limited in<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_365" id="Page_365">[Pg 365]</a></span> its range it may be. We find -pre-eminently such a monotonous attitude incidental to this class -of self-absorbed and speechless men among German characters, who -for this reason appear in their seclusion inclined to stubbornness, -ready to bristle up, crabbed, inaccessible, and in their dealings and -expressions wholly unreliable and contradictory. As a master in the -delineation and exposition of such obtuse characters of the poorer -classes we will mention but one example, Hippel, the author of "Life's -Careers in the Line of Ascent,"<a name="FNanchor_283_283" id="FNanchor_283_283"></a><a href="#Footnote_283_283" class="fnanchor">[283]</a> one of our few German works -stamped with original humour. He keeps himself wholly removed from -Jean Paul's sentimentality and want of taste in plot construction, -and possesses moreover an astonishing individuality, freshness, and -vitality. He understands, in quite an exceptional way, and one that -seizes on our interest at once, how to depict the thickset type of -people who are unable to breathe freely and who consequently, when -they do give themselves the rein, do so with a violence that is -simply fearful. They put an end of their own accord to the infinite -contradiction of their spiritual life and the unhappy circumstances -in which they are involved in an appalling manner; and bring about by -such means that which is otherwise the result of an external fate, as -we find, for instance, in "Romeo and Juliet," where external accidents -mar all the wise and able offices of the holy father's intervention and -cause the death of the lovers.</p> - -<p>(<i>c</i>) We find, then, that characters of this formal quality generally -either expose merely the infinite volitional force of the individual's -personality, which asserts itself frankly just as it is and storms -ahead in the bare impulse of the will; or, to take the further -aspect, present to us an essential self-contained<a name="FNanchor_284_284" id="FNanchor_284_284"></a><a href="#Footnote_284_284" class="fnanchor">[284]</a>, if not wholly -articulate soul, which, affected as it becomes by one specific aspect -of its spiritual experience, concentrates the entire breadth and -depth of its personality on this point, yet, owing to the fact of its -possessing no development externally, is unable to find its proper -place or to act with practical sense when it comes into collision -with<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_366" id="Page_366">[Pg 366]</a></span> that world. We have yet a <i>third</i> point<a name="FNanchor_285_285" id="FNanchor_285_285"></a><a href="#Footnote_285_285" class="fnanchor">[285]</a> to mention, which -consists in this, that when characters of this type, wholly one-sided -and restricted as they are in respect to their aims if at the same time -fully developed in mental power, awake in us not merely a <i>formal</i>, -but also a <i>substantial</i> interest, we cannot fail to receive the -impression that this limitation of their personal life is itself only -a condition that is inevitable; in other words it is a result which -grows out of the particular way in which their character is defined -along with the profounder content of their personal life. Shakespeare -in fact enables us to see this depth and wealth in such characters. -He presents them to us as men of imaginative power and genius by -showing how their reflective faculty commands them and lifts them -above that which their condition and definite purpose would make them, -so that they are all the while as it were forced by the misfortune -of circumstances and the obstacles of their position into doing that -which they accomplish. At the same time we do not mean this to the -extent of asserting, for example, that the bad witches were to blame -for all that Macbeth dared after consulting them. These witches are -rather to be looked at as the reflex of his own obstinate will. All -that the characters of Shakespeare execute, that is the particular -purpose they propose, originates and finds the taproot of its force in -their own personality. But along with this they maintain in one and -the same individuality a loftiness, which brushes aside that which -they actually are, so far as their aims, interests, and actions are -concerned, and which amplifies them and exalts them above themselves. -In like manner Shakespeare's more vulgar characters, such as Stephano, -Trinculo, Pistol, and that hero among them all, Falstaff, though -saturated with their own debasement, assert themselves as fellows of -intelligence, whose genial quality is able to take in everything, -to possess a large and open atmosphere of its own, and in short -makes them all that great men are. In the tragedies of the French on -the contrary even the greatest and most worthy characters only too -frequently, if viewed critically, assert themselves as so many evil -offshoots of the brute creation, whose only intelligence consists in -this that it can furnish dialectical<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_367" id="Page_367">[Pg 367]</a></span> arguments in its vindication. -In Shakespeare we find neither vindication nor damnation, but merely -a review of the general condition of destiny, which inevitably places -such characters uncomplaining and unrepentant where they are, and from -the starting-point of which they see everything, themselves included; -and yet as independent spectators of themselves decline and fall.</p> - -<p>In all these respects the realm which is peopled by such individual -characters is an infinitely rich one, a kingdom, however, which very -easily collapses in hollowness and dulness, so that only quite a few -masters have received the gifts of poetical and intuitional power -sufficient to enable them to reveal its truth.</p> - - -<h6>2. THE SPIRIT OF ADVENTURE</h6> - -<p>Now that we have examined the aspect of the inward soul-life, which -may, at this stage of our inquiry, be presented by art, we must direct -our attention to that which lies without it, to the particularity -of circumstances and situations which affect character, also to the -collisions in which its development proceeds, and finally review the -entire collective form, which this inward life assumes within the -boundaries of concrete reality.</p> - -<p>It is, as we have more than once pointed out, a fundamental determinant -of romantic art, that the spiritual sense, in other words, the soul -in its aspect of self-reflection, should constitute a whole, and -relates itself for this reason to the external world, not, in its own -reality, inter-penetrated by this world, but as though related to -something purely external and separated from it, which goes on its way -independently disjoined from Spirit, is thus evolved, and thus disposes -of itself as a finite and continuously fluid, changing, and complicate -object of contingent causality<a name="FNanchor_286_286" id="FNanchor_286_286"></a><a href="#Footnote_286_286" class="fnanchor">[286]</a>. To the self-absorbed soul it is -as wholly a matter of indifference what particular circumstances it -confronts, as it is an affair of chance what those circumstances are -which appear before<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_368" id="Page_368">[Pg 368]</a></span> it. For in its action it is less a matter of -importance that it should carry out a work whose essential basis is -rooted in itself and owes its subsistency to its own character than -that it should generally make itself effective in action.</p> - -<p>(<i>a</i>) We have, in short, before us here a process which we may from -one point of view describe as the rejection of the Divine from -Nature. Spirit has here withdrawn itself from the externality of -phenomena, which, for the reason that the inward life no longer sees -itself reflected in this sphere<a name="FNanchor_287_287" id="FNanchor_287_287"></a><a href="#Footnote_287_287" class="fnanchor">[287]</a>, is now independently clothed -on its part under a relation of indifference exterior to the subject -of consciousness. Relatively to its truth Spirit is, no doubt, in -its own medium mediated and reconciled with the Absolute: but in so -far as we now take up our position on the ground of self-subsistent -individuality, which proceeds from itself as it discovers itself in -its immediacy, this divesting of the Divine<a name="FNanchor_288_288" id="FNanchor_288_288"></a><a href="#Footnote_288_288" class="fnanchor">[288]</a> affects character in -its active capacity. It moves forward, that is to say, with its own -contingent aims into a world equally subject to chance, with which -it fails to unite itself in an essentially harmonious whole. This -relative character of purpose in an environment which is relative, -whose determination and development does not subsist in the individual -mind, but is defined externally and contingently and is responsible for -collisions equally adventitious, which appear as offshoots that are -unexpectedly interwoven with it, creates that to which we give the name -of "the adventurous," which supplies the <i>fundamental type</i> of romance -for the mode of its events and actions.</p> - -<p>It is necessary that the action and dramatic event in so far as they -apply strictly to the Ideal and classic art, should be referable -to an essentially true or, in other words, independently explicit -and necessary end, in whose conformation that which is also the -determinating factor for the external form, for the particular type and -mode of execution, is an object of real existence. In the case of the -acts and events of romantic art this is not the case. For, although -essentially universal and substantive ends are also presented in their -manner of realization by this type, the definition of the action which -is referable to such ends, and the principle of co-ordination and -articulation which appears in its progress<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_369" id="Page_369">[Pg 369]</a></span> on its spiritual side<a name="FNanchor_289_289" id="FNanchor_289_289"></a><a href="#Footnote_289_289" class="fnanchor">[289]</a> -is not the direct result of those ends themselves; this aspect of -realization is inevitably left independent and subject to the operation -of contingency.</p> - -<p>(<i>α</i>) The romantic world had one and only <i>one absolute</i> work to -accomplish, namely, the extension of Christendom, and the bringing into -manifest performance the spirit of the community<a name="FNanchor_290_290" id="FNanchor_290_290"></a><a href="#Footnote_290_290" class="fnanchor">[290]</a>. Situated in the -midst of a hostile world consisting in part of the unbelieving ancient -<i>régime</i>, and in part of a human life which was barbarous and coarse, -the character of its actual accomplishment, in so far as it passed -from mere theory to deeds, was, in the main, the passive endurance of -pain and torture, the sacrifice of its own temporal existence for the -eternal salvation of the soul. A further product of its energies, which -is equally a portion of the same essential content, is, in the Middle -Ages, that carried out by Christian Chivalry, the driving forth of the -Moors, Arabs, and Mohammedans generally from Christian countries, and, -above all, along with it, the conquest of the Holy Sepulchre in the -Crusades. This, however, was not an object which affected man simply as -human<a name="FNanchor_291_291" id="FNanchor_291_291"></a><a href="#Footnote_291_291" class="fnanchor">[291]</a>, but one which a mere collection of isolated individuals had -to accomplish under conditions in which the individuals which composed -it streamed together at their own free will and pleasure as such. From -such a point of view we may call the Crusades the collective adventure -of the Christian Middle Ages; an adventure, which was essentially -subject to lapses<a name="FNanchor_292_292" id="FNanchor_292_292"></a><a href="#Footnote_292_292" class="fnanchor">[292]</a>, and fantastical, of a spiritual tendency, and -yet devoid of a truly spiritual aim, and in its relation to action and -character delusive. For in its relation to the processes of religion, -the supreme object of the Crusades is in the highest degree empty and -external. Christianity purported to secure its salvation solely in -Spirit, in Christ, who is raised to the right hand of God; it finds -its living reality and stay in Spirit, not in the grave of Spirit, or -in the sensuous, immediately present localities of its former temporal -abiding-place. The<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_370" id="Page_370">[Pg 370]</a></span> impulse and religious yearning of the Middle -Ages, however, was centred on the spot, the external locality of the -Passion and the Holy Sepulchre. In just the same direct contradiction -with the religious object we find that wholly worldly one which was -bound up with conquest; a possession, which in its relation to the -secular world, carried a totally different character to that of a truly -religious purpose. Men would fain win for themselves what was spiritual -and health to their souls, and they set before them as an aim a purely -material locality, from which Spirit had vanished; they strained after -a gain that was temporal, and united this which was of the world to the -pure substance of religion. It is this distraction which gives us the -discordant and fantastic note in such enterprises in which we find that -which is of the world confound the life of soul, or the latter prove -the confounding of the former instead of a harmony which is the result -of both. And for the same reason much that is contradictory appears in -the execution unresolved. Piety is carried to the point of rawness and -barbarous cruelty. And this rawness permits every kind of selfishness -and passion to break forth, or casts itself conversely once more upon -the eternal depths which either move or bruise the human spirit, and -which are, in truth, the heart and substance of the matter. In the -medley of elements so discrepant, there is also an absence of all unity -in the object proposed by the exploits and events themselves, or in -the consequential power of authority. The host of men is diverted and -split up in single adventures, victories, defeats, and a variety of -accidents; and the outcome of it all fails to correspond to the means -and enormous preparations which were involved. Nay, the object itself -is stultified in the execution. For the Crusades would once again bring -truth to the sentence: "Thou couldst not leave him in peace in the -grave, thou didst not suffer thy holy one to see corruption." But it -is precisely this longing to find Christ and spiritual content in such -places and spaces, even the grave itself, the place of death, which -is itself, whatever essential worth even a Chateaubriand may make out -of it, a corruption of Spirit, out of which Christianity must rise in -resurrection in order to return once more to the fresh and abundant -life of the concrete world.</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_371" id="Page_371">[Pg 371]</a></span></p> - -<p>An object of much the same kind, mystical from one point of view, -equally fantastical from another, and adventurous in its undertaking, -is the search of the Holy Grail.</p> - -<p>(<i>β</i>) A more exalted emprise is that which every man has to go through -in his own domain, his life, in the course of which he determines -his eternal destiny. It is this object which Dante has, consistently -with the catholic standpoint, seized upon in his "Divine Comedy" as -he conducts us in turn through hell, purgatory, and paradise. In this -poem, too, despite the strenuous co-ordination of the whole, we have -abundant evidence of conceptions which are fantastic<a name="FNanchor_293_293" id="FNanchor_293_293"></a><a href="#Footnote_293_293" class="fnanchor">[293]</a>, aspects that -are suffused with the spirit of adventure, in so far, at any rate, as -this work in its blessing and cursing is not carried through merely in -the explicit form of universal statement, but as referable to an almost -innumerable company of distinct personalities, not to mention the fact -that the <i>poet</i> takes upon himself the <i>fiat</i> of his church, seizes -the keys of heaven in his hand, adjudicates both bliss and damnation, -and so constitutes himself the judge of the v world, who places the -best known individuals both of the ancient and Christian eras, whether -poets, citizens, cardinals, or popes, respectively in hell, purgatory, -or paradise.</p> - -<p>(<i>γ</i>) The remaining material, on the basis of the <i>worldly</i> life, which -leads up to action and event, consists in the infinitely manifold -and venturesome experiments of imaginative idea, all that element of -chance in what arises either without or within the soul from love, -honour, and fidelity. At one time we may see men thus affected box -the compass for their own reputation's sake, at another leap to help -persecuted innocence, carry out amazing exploits in defence of the -honour of their lady, or vindicate some right that is invaded with the -strength of their own arm, and the able use of their own weapons; and -this albeit the innocence which is delivered prove only a company of -knaves. In the majority of such cases there is absolutely no condition, -no situation, no conflict before us in virtue of which we can assert -that action follows as a <i>necessary</i> result. The soul simply wills it -and <i>intentionally</i> looks out for adventure.<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_372" id="Page_372">[Pg 372]</a></span> The exploits of love, -for instance, in such cases have for the most part, if we look at -their more specific content, no other real principle of determination -beyond the effort to give proof of the steadfastness, fidelity, and -constancy of love, to testify that all the surrounding world, together -with the entire complexus of its relations, is merely of value as so -much material in which love may be brought to light. For this reason -the specific act of such manifestation, since the only thing that -matters is the proof, is not determined by its own course, but is left -dependent on a freak of chance, the mood of the lady, the caprice of -external accidents. The same principle holds where the objects are -honour or bravery. They are proper to an individual who holds himself -far aloof from all further content of a more substantive character, who -is perfectly able to enter into any and every content as it may chance -to occur, to find himself the object of insult therein, or to look for -an opportunity in which he may display his courage and shrewdness. -As we have here absolutely no criterion as to what should or what -should not form part of this content, in the same way also we have no -principle in accordance with which we can fix what in each case is -really an attack upon honour or the true subject-matter of bravery. It -is just the same with the treatment of <i>right</i>, which is likewise an -object of chivalry. In other words, right and law are here not as yet -asserted as a condition and object which is of essentially independent -stability, or as a system which is continuously made more perfect in -accordance with law and its necessary content, but as themselves purely -the product of individual caprice, so that their interposition, no -less than the judgment passed upon that which in every particular case -is held to be right or wrong, is throughout relegated to the entirely -haphazard criteria of individual judgment.</p> - -<p>(<i>b</i>) What we have before us generally, more particularly on the -secular field, in chivalry and the formalism of character above -indicated, is not merely, to a more or less degree, the contingency of -the circumstantial conditions of human action, but also that of the -soul in its attitude of volition. For individuals of this one-sided -characterization are capable of accepting as the substance of their -life that which is wholly contingent, conduct that is only sustained<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_373" id="Page_373">[Pg 373]</a></span> -by virtue of the energy of their character, and is carried out, or -fails in its contact with the inevitable collisions which the condition -of the world opposes to it. The same thing is true of the chivalry -which receives in honour, love, and fidelity a more lofty ground of -justification, and one entitled to rank with a truly ethical basis. On -the one hand, it is still emphatically a matter of chance on account of -the particular aspect of the circumstances on which it reacts; we find -that here the object is to carry out aims peculiar to some particular -person, instead of some work of general significance, and the modes -of its attachment with the rest of life fail to possess independent -stability. On the other hand, precisely at the point where we consider -such action as part of the personal life of individuals, we are aware -of the presence of caprice and illusion in respect to all that it -either projects, originates, or undertakes. The net result of such a -spirit of enterprise consequently, through all that it performs or -enters upon, no less than in its ultimate effects, is no other than a -world of events and fatalities which is self-dissolvent, a world of -comedy for this very reason.</p> - -<p>This self-dissolution of Chivalry we find set before us and -artistically reproduced, pre-eminently and with unsurpassed adequacy, -by Ariosto and Cervantes, and, so far as it affects the fate of -such highly individual characters as those above described in their -isolation, by Shakespeare.</p> - -<p>(<i>α</i>) In Ariosto, more particularly, an attempt is made to delight the -reader with the infinitely varied developments of personal destiny and -aims, the fabulous complexity of fantastic relations and ludicrous -situations over which the adventurous fancy of the poet plays to -the point of absolute frivolity. The heroes of these dramas are -seriously engaged in what is often unadulterated folly and the wildest -eccentricity. And, to note especial points, love is frequently degraded -from the Divine love of a Dante, or the romantic tenderness of a -Petrarca, to sensual tales and ludicrous collisions; or heroism appears -to be screwed up to a pitch that is so incredible it ceases to amaze, -and merely excites a smile over the fabulousness of such exploits. By -virtue, however, of this indifference in respect to the particular -manner in which dramatic situations are brought about,<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_374" id="Page_374">[Pg 374]</a></span> astonishing -complications and conflicts are introduced, broken off and once more -interwoven, chopped about, and finally resolved in a surprising way; -yet, despite his ludicrous treatment of chivalry, Ariosto is as able -to secure and display to us the true nobility and greatness which we -may find in chivalry, or the exhibition of courage, love, honour, and -bravery, as he can on occasion excellently depict other passions, -cunning, subtlety, presence of mind, and much else.</p> - -<p>(<i>β</i>) Just as Ariosto inclines more to the <i>fabulous</i> element in this -spirit of adventure, Cervantes develops that aspect of it which is -appropriate to <i>romantic</i> fiction. We find in his Don Quixote a noble -nature in whose adventures chivalry goes mad, the substance of such -adventures being placed as the centre of a stable and well-defined -state of things whose external character is copied with exactness -from nature. This produces the humorous contradiction of a rationally -constituted world on the one hand, and an isolated soul on the other, -which seeks to create the same order and stability entirely through -his own exertions and the knight-errantry which could only destroy -it. Despite, however, this ludicrous confusion we have still in Don -Quixote that which we have already eulogized in Shakespeare. Cervantes -has created in his hero an original figure of noble nature endowed -with varied spiritual qualities, and one which at the same time -throughout retains our full interest. In all the madness of his mind -and his enterprise he is a completely consistent<a name="FNanchor_294_294" id="FNanchor_294_294"></a><a href="#Footnote_294_294" class="fnanchor">[294]</a> soul, or rather -his madness lies in this, that he is and remains securely rooted in -himself and his enterprise. Without this unreflecting equanimity -respectively to the content and result of his actions he would fail -to be a truly romantic figure; and this self-assuredness, if we look -at the substantive character of his opinions, is throughout great and -indicative of his genius, adorned as it is with the finest traits of -character. And, further, the entire work is a satire upon the chivalry -of romance, ironical from beginning to end in the truest sense. In -Ariosto this genius of adventure is merely the butt of frivolous jest. -From another point of view, however, the exploits of Don Quixote are -merely the central thread around which a succession of genuinely -romantic tales are intertwined<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_375" id="Page_375">[Pg 375]</a></span> in the most charming way, in order -to unfold the true worth of that which the romance in other respects -scatters to the winds with the genius of comedy.</p> - -<p>(<i>γ</i>) In somewhat the same way as we thus have seen chivalry, even -in respect to its most momentous interests, overturned in comedy, -Shakespeare, too, either places the characters and scenes of comedy in -juxtaposition to his downright and stable individualities, and tragic -situations and conflicts, or exalts the essential figures of his drama -through a profound humour above themselves and their uncouth, limited, -and false purposes. Falstaff, the fool in "Lear," the musician scene in -"Romeo and Juliet," will sufficiently illustrate the first alternative, -and Richard III the second.</p> - -<p>(<i>c</i>) The dissolution of romance, in the sense we have hitherto -regarded it, introduces us finally and in the third place to the -spirit of the <i>novel</i><a name="FNanchor_295_295" id="FNanchor_295_295"></a><a href="#Footnote_295_295" class="fnanchor">[295]</a>, in our modern sense of the term, which -historically the knight-errantry and pastoral romances precede. This -spirit of modern fiction is, in fact, that of chivalry, once more -taken seriously and receiving a true content. The contingent character -of external existence has changed to a stable, secure order of civic -society and state-life, so that now police administration, tribunals -of justice, the army and political government generally take the place -of those chimerical objects which the knight of chivalry proposed to -himself. For this reason the knightly character of the heroes who -play their parts in our modern novels is altered. Confronted by the -existing order and the ordinary prose of life they appear before us as -individuals with personal aims of love, honour, ambition, and ideals of -world reform, ideals in the path of which that order presents obstacles -on every side. The result is that personal desires and demands unroll -themselves<a name="FNanchor_296_296" id="FNanchor_296_296"></a><a href="#Footnote_296_296" class="fnanchor">[296]</a> before this opposition to unfathomable heights. Every -man finds himself face to face with an enchanted world that is by no -means all that he asks for, which he must contend with for the reason -that it contends with himself, and in its tenacious stability refuses<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_376" id="Page_376">[Pg 376]</a></span> -to give way before his passions, but interposes as an obstacle the -will of some one else whoever it may be, his father's, his aunt's, or -social conditions generally. For the most part such a knighthood will -consist of young people, who feel it incumbent upon them to hew their -way through a world which makes for its own realization rather than -that of their ideals, and who hold it a misfortune that there should -be family ties, civic society, state laws, professions, and all the -rest of such things at all, because conditions of such solidity and so -inevitably restricted are so cruelly opposed to their ideal dreams and -the infinite claims of their souls. The main object now is to drive a -breach through this wall of facts, to change, to improve, or at least -carve for themselves in despite of it some little heaven on earth such -as they seek for, their ideal maiden, discover her, win her from the -clutches of her wicked relations or her evil circumstances, carry her -off and lay the balm of love on her wounds. Conflicts of this kind, -however, in our modern world are the apprentice years, the education of -individuality in the actual world; they have no further significance, -but the significance has, nevertheless, a real value. The object -and consummation of such apprenticeship consists in this, that the -individual drops his horns and finds his own place, together with his -wishes and opinions in social conditions as they are and the rational -order which belongs to them, that he enters, in short, upon the varied -field of life, and secures that position within it which is appropriate -to his powers. However soundly he may have rated the world and have -been shoved on one side, the day comes at last with the most of us -when the maiden is discovered and some kind of place in the world, he -marries, and is as much a Philistine as the rest of his neighbours. His -wife takes charge of his domestic arrangements; children do not fail to -put in an appearance; the adorable wife who was so unique, an angel, -acts very much as other wives do; the profession supplies its toils -and vexations, the married tie its domestic sorrows, and, in short, we -have the entire process of marital caterwauling once more illustrated. -In this history we may see the same old type of the adventurous spirit -with this distinction, that here that spirit discovers its real -significance, and all that is wholly fantastic in it receives its -necessary correction.</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_377" id="Page_377">[Pg 377]</a></span></p> - - -<h6>3. THE DISSOLUTION OF THE ROMANTIC TYPE OF ART</h6> - -<p>The last point which we have to establish still more closely is -that relatively to which the romantic spirit, for the reason that -it already is <i>intrinsically</i> the principle of the dissolution of -the classic Ideal, manifests, in fact, this <i>dissolution</i> clearly as -such a process. In this connection it is of the first importance to -consider the ultimately complete contingent and external character -of the material, which the activity of the artist seizes on and -informs. In the plastic material of the plastic arts the spiritual -conception is so related to the external medium that this external -show is the embodiment which uniquely belongs to that spiritual -significance itself, and possesses no real independence apart from -it. In romantic art, on the contrary, in which we find the inwardness -of Spirit withdraws within its own domain, the entire content of the -<i>external</i> world secures the freedom of unfettered independence and the -assured subsistency of its own peculiar character and particularity. -Conversely, as we have seen, if the personal life of soul forms the -essential feature in the artistic product, it is a question of similar -indifference with what specific content of external reality and the -spiritual world the soul is vitally connected. The romantic Idea can -therefore assert itself through <i>every</i> sort of condition; can embrace -every conceivable position, circumstance, relation, aberration, -confusion, conflict, and means of satisfaction; it is simply its own -personal and self-subsistent mode of conformation, the expression and -receptive form of the soul rather than any objective independently -valid form which is the object of search and is made good. In the -representation of romantic art therefore everything has its due place, -all the departments and phenomena of life, the greatest and the least, -the highest and most insignificant, what is moral with that which -is immoral and evil. And we may further note in particular that the -more secular the art becomes, the more it amasses the finite wealth -of the world, the more it takes to it with, delight, bestows upon -it a validity that is without reserve and exists for the artist in -such a world under the sole condition<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_378" id="Page_378">[Pg 378]</a></span> that it is reproduced in its -naked reality, so much the more is art at home with itself. Thus we -may observe in Shakespeare, on account of the fact that with him the -action as a rule runs its course in the most realistic association -with objective life, and is isolated and broken up in a mass of purely -accidental relations, and conditions of every kind, the least important -and most incidental no less than the most sovereign flights and most -weighty interests of poetry are each and all substantiated. So in -"Hamlet" we have the sentry on watch no less than the royal court; -in "Romeo and Juliet" the domestic <i>ménage</i>; in other pieces, not to -mention clowns, swashbucklers, and all the vulgarities of ordinary -life, we have pot-houses, carriers, chamber-pots and fleas, much as -in the representations by romantic art of the birth of Christ and the -adoration of the kings we do not fail to find oxen and asses, mangers -and straw<a name="FNanchor_297_297" id="FNanchor_297_297"></a><a href="#Footnote_297_297" class="fnanchor">[297]</a>. And this is the kind of thing throughout, that the -scriptural text may receive its fulfilment, too, in art, "they that are -of low estate shall be exalted." It is from out this contingent sphere -of its subject-matter, which in a measure asserts itself as merely the -environment of a content intrinsically more important and in part also -in absolute independence, that the <i>downfall</i> of romantic art issues, -to which we have already above adverted. In other words we have, on the -one hand, objective reality placed before us in what is from the point -of view of the Ideal its <i>prosaic objectivity</i>, that is, the content of -everyday life, which is not grasped in the substantive form in which -it adumbrates what is both moral and divine, but rather in that which -is for ever changing and which as temporal passes away. And, in the -further aspect of it, it is also the <i>subjective condition</i>, which, -with its emotion and insight, with the principle and authority of its -wit or humour, is able to exalt itself in mastery over the entire world -of the real, a mastery which leaves nothing in the ordinary connections -and significance where the commonsense consciousness finds it, and -is not fully satisfied until it has proved that everything which is -a part of that world is, by virtue of the form and relative position -which it receives from the view of it, mood and supreme gifts of<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_379" id="Page_379">[Pg 379]</a></span> the -artist<a name="FNanchor_298_298" id="FNanchor_298_298"></a><a href="#Footnote_298_298" class="fnanchor">[298]</a>, itself intrinsically capable of being broken up, and, as -such, is for the artistic vision and feeling dissolved. We have now, in -this connection, first, to add a few words on the principle contained -in those very varied works of art whose level of representation -approximates closely to the ordinary appearance of objective or -external reality, what in common parlance is called the imitation of -Nature.</p> - -<p><i>Secondly</i>, we shall have to discuss humour as a personal quality -in the artist. It plays a very considerable part in modern art, and -is that which in the case of many poets distinctively supplies the -fundamental character of their work.</p> - -<p><i>Thirdly</i>, it remains for us to offer a few suggestions, in conclusion, -on the point of view from which it is still possible for the art of -to-day to find a field for its activities.</p> - - -<p>(<i>a</i>) <i>The Artistic Imitation of what is Immediately presented by -Nature</i></p> - -<p>The realm of subjects which may be included in this sphere v of -artistic activity may be extended indefinitely for the reason that Art -takes for its content here not that which is by its own inherent law -necessary<a name="FNanchor_299_299" id="FNanchor_299_299"></a><a href="#Footnote_299_299" class="fnanchor">[299]</a>, the range of which is essentially self-contained, but -the contingent phenomena of reality in their unlimited modifications -of form and relation, Nature and her kaleidoscopic play of separate -pictures, the everyday action and affairs of man in his dependence -on natural conditions and their means of his satisfaction, in his -accidental habits also, attitudes, activities of family life, his -business as a citizen, and, generally, the incalculable variety of -all that shifts and changes in the world around us. And for this -reason this art is not merely, in the broad sense that applies more -or less to the romantic spirit in all its manifestations, a type -of portraiture: rather it tends to lose itself completely in the -mode of its portrayal, whether it be in sculpture, painting, or in -the descriptions of poetry. The tendency is to return to the exact -imitation of Nature, in other words, to the intentional approach to -the contingent<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_380" id="Page_380">[Pg 380]</a></span> aspects of what is immediately before the vision and -independently thus presented, prosaic existence in all its ugliness no -less than its beauty. The question, therefore, at once suggests itself -whether productions of this character have any right to be called art -at all. No doubt, if we simply fix before our attention the notion of -artistic work which fully corresponds to the Ideal, work which from one -point of view it is of the first importance that their content shall -not be thus intrinsically accidental or evanescent, and from another -point of view that their mode of presentation must be adequate in all -respects to such a content, then such artistic productions as we are -now considering will unquestionably appear to fall short. On the other -hand, there is another fundamental aspect of art which assumes here -an exceptional importance. This is the conception and execution of a -work of art which are personal to the artist, the aspect, that is, of -an individual talent, which is able to remain true to the inherently -substantive life of Nature no less than the embodiments of spiritual -experience though carried to the very limits of contingent condition -with which they may be involved, and which is further competent through -the vividness of its truth to import a significance into that which -is by itself insignificant, no less than by the amazing ability of -the technical execution itself. We have consequently to consider here -the degree in which the soul, that is, the genius and vitality of the -artist, is able to enter into the very being of such objects—whether -we consider their dominant idea<a name="FNanchor_300_300" id="FNanchor_300_300"></a><a href="#Footnote_300_300" class="fnanchor">[300]</a>, or the purely external form -of their appearance—and thus makes them visible in his art to our -eyes. And if we look at it from this point of view it will be found -impossible to deny that such creations have a genuine claim to the name -of art-products.</p> - -<p>If we approach such more closely we shall find that among the -particular arts poetry and painting are the ones which are most -occupied with their subject-matter. For, on the one hand, we see here -that it is that which is itself essentially particular which supplies -their content, and on the other hand it is the accidental though in -this type of art the genuine peculiarities of the objective appearance -which is sought for as the mode of the reproduction. Neither the<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_381" id="Page_381">[Pg 381]</a></span> arts -of architecture, sculpture, or music are adapted to the fulfilment of -such a task.</p> - -<p>(<i>α</i>) In poetry it is ordinary domestic life—the main source, that is, -of the probity, commonsense spirit, and the morality of everyday<a name="FNanchor_301_301" id="FNanchor_301_301"></a><a href="#Footnote_301_301" class="fnanchor">[301]</a> -life—which is presented by art in the usual developments of civic -life, in scenes and characters selected from the middle and lower -classes. Among the French Diderot stands out conspicuous for the way -in which he has thus insisted on natural effects and the imitation -of the bluntness of fact. Among Germans it was Goethe and Schiller -who, with more lofty aim, struck out a path somewhat similar in their -youth, but rather, within this naturalness of life itself and its -particular detail, sought after a profounder content and conflicts -of essential significance. And in contrast to them we have Kotzebue -and Iffland, both of whom, in their several ways, the first with a -superficial rapidity of conception and execution, the second with a -more conscientious accuracy of detail and a homely kind of morality, -gave us the counterfeit of the daily life of their time in the prosaic -picture of its more limited aspects, with but a limited sense, either -of them, for genuine poetry. And generally, we may say, that it is -German art more than any other, and particularly that of our own times, -which has fastened with delight on this kind of treatment till it has -reached a sort of. virtuosity in it. In fact for a long period back Art -was more or less something of a stranger and a guest in our country, -not the child of our own loins.</p> - -<p>Further, we may observe that in this attraction to the reality that -lies actually before us it is essential that the material assimilated -by such an art be cognate with such reality and at home in it<a name="FNanchor_302_302" id="FNanchor_302_302"></a><a href="#Footnote_302_302" class="fnanchor">[302]</a>; -it must be the national life of the poet and his immediate public. -It is on this very point of the kind of appropriation suited to an -art such as our own, which carried the purpose both in its content -and its methods of representation of making us feel at home in it,<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_382" id="Page_382">[Pg 382]</a></span> -even to the extent of sacrificing both beauty and ideality, that the -impulse originated which led to such a type of artistic production. -Other nations have been inclined to reject such material with scorn, -or only in more recent times have taken a more vital interest in such -opportunities as the ordinary course of human life offers.</p> - -<p>(<i>β</i>) If we desire, however, to see what is most worthy of our -admiration in such productions, we must turn our attention to the later -genre-painting of the Dutch. We have already in the first part of this -work, when examining the intrinsic character of the Ideal, indicated, -so far as the general spirit of it is concerned, what we take to be -the substantial basis of such work<a name="FNanchor_303_303" id="FNanchor_303_303"></a><a href="#Footnote_303_303" class="fnanchor">[303]</a>. That contentment in life -under its presentment of direct experience down to the most ordinary -and most insignificant detail is mainly due to the fact that this -people was obliged to work out for itself only after severe struggles -and hard labour that which Nature supplies with far less reserve to -other peoples. Further, circumscribed as it is by local conditions, -it has become great in this very concern for and appreciation of the -least things. From another point of view it is a people of fishermen, -sailors, citizens, and peasants, and for this reason is forced from -the start to rate highly all that may be useful and necessary both in -matters of greatest and least importance which it knows how to secure -with the most assiduous industry. As a further essential feature of its -development the religion of this Dutch folk was Protestantism, and it -is an exclusive characteristic of this form of religion that it seeks -to find a home in the prose of life and suffers the same to remain -just as it is by itself, and independently of religious associations, -and to retain its forms of growth in unrestricted freedom. It would -be quite impossible for any other nation, situated in other external -conditions, to create works of art of such pre-eminent quality from -the kind of material which we have placed before us in the Dutch -school of painting. And, moreover, despite the peculiar nature of this -artistic interest, the Dutch have not by any means discovered their -whole life-in what was necessitous or barren in the conditions of their -existence and what tended to oppress their vitality: on the contrary, -they have reformed<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_383" id="Page_383">[Pg 383]</a></span> their church itself, have overcome a religious -despotism precisely as they overcame the world-power and majesty of -Spain, and have finally through their exertions, their industry, their -bravery and thrift secured for themselves, in the consciousness of -their self-attained liberty, prosperity, comfort, rectitude, courage, -joviality, nay, even a superabundant sense of the joys of ordinary -existence. Herein lies the vindication of the typical subject-matter of -their art. The material of such an art will not, however, satisfy that -profounder significance which is due to a content that is essentially -true. If, however, neither our emotional nor our critical faculties -are wholly content with it the more we consider it closely the more -we shall feel reconciled to such defects. It is an essential part of -the art of painting and the man who paints that they should please and -carry us away with that sense of pleasure. And, to put it bluntly, if -we would really know what painting is, in looking at any particular -canvas we must be, at least, able to say of the master in question: -"Ah, this man can paint." The main point, therefore, does not turn on -the question how far the artist in his work is able to give us an exact -transcription of the object he presents before us. We have already the -completest vision of grapes, flowers, stags, sand-hills, sea, sun, -sky, the finery and decoration of ordinary life, horses, warriors, -peasants, smokers, teeth-extraction, and every kind of domestic scene. -We have only to go to Nature for such things and others like them. What -ought to captivate us is not the content in its bare reality. Rather -it is the appearance, which in comparison with the object is wholly -without interest<a name="FNanchor_304_304" id="FNanchor_304_304"></a><a href="#Footnote_304_304" class="fnanchor">[304]</a>. This appearance is, moreover, by itself fixed -independently of the beautiful<a name="FNanchor_305_305" id="FNanchor_305_305"></a><a href="#Footnote_305_305" class="fnanchor">[305]</a>, and art consists in the mastery -of its reproduction of all the mysteries of the ever self-deepening -appearance of external phenomena<a name="FNanchor_306_306" id="FNanchor_306_306"></a><a href="#Footnote_306_306" class="fnanchor">[306]</a>. And, above all, the function of -art consists in this that, armed with an exceptionally fine sense for -such things, it lies in ambush for the momentary and wholly transient -traits which it<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_384" id="Page_384">[Pg 384]</a></span> finds upon the surrounding world observed in its -individual aspects of life, aspects which, however, completely coincide -with the universal laws that dominate the appearance, and can retain -true and secure the most fading apparition. A tree, a landscape, is -something of independent and permanent stability. But to seize upon the -flash of a metal, the gleam of light through the grape, a vanishing -glance of the moon or the sun, a smile, the expressions of spiritual -life which are no sooner seen than they vanish, or ludicrous movements, -situations, and attitudes, to master such evanescent material as this -is the difficult task of this type of work. If classic art in its -Ideal has essentially confined its embodiment to that which is purely -substantive so here we have opened to our vision the changes of Nature -in their fleeting forms of expression, a stream of water, a waterfall, -waves of foam on the sea, still life with the accidental flashes of -glass, plate, and things of like nature, the outward appearance of man -in the most exceptional situations, a wife, for instance, threading her -needle by candle-light, a halt of robbers suddenly surprised, the most -instantaneous fraction of some human posture, the smile or sneer of a -peasant, all the things, in fact, in which men like Ostade, Teniers, -or Steen are masters. It is the triumph of art over the Past, in which -the substantive is likewise filched of its power over that which is -accidental and transitory.</p> - -<p>And just as the appearance simply as such reflects the real content -of objects, so we may say that Art, in giving a permanent form to -the evanescent show of things, goes a step further. In other words, -quite apart from the objective realization, the means adopted in the -reproduction are themselves independently an end, in the sense that -the individual ability of the artist, and his use of the means his -art supplies, may itself rank as one of the objects aimed at by the -art product. In quite the early days of the school the artists of the -Netherlands studied profoundly the qualities of colour in its relation -to material substances<a name="FNanchor_307_307" id="FNanchor_307_307"></a><a href="#Footnote_307_307" class="fnanchor">[307]</a>. Van Eyck, Hemling, and Schoreel<a name="FNanchor_308_308" id="FNanchor_308_308"></a><a href="#Footnote_308_308" class="fnanchor">[308]</a> were -all of them capable of imitating in the<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_385" id="Page_385">[Pg 385]</a></span> most realistic way the sheen -of gold and silver, the varied light effects of jewels, silk, velvet, -and fur-stuffs. A mastery of this kind which, by the magic of colour -and the mysteries of its enchantment, is able to bring about artistic -results so entirely surprising requires no further vindication; it -justifies itself. As Spirit in thought and in its grasp of the world -by means of ideas and thoughts reproduces itself, so what is most -important here is the individual recreation of the external world, -independently of the bare object itself, in the sensuous medium, of -colours under effects of light and shade. It is in fact a kind of -objective music, a system of colour tones. In music the single tone is -of no value and only produces the musical effect in its relation to -some other, in its opposition, concord, modulation, and unison. It is -precisely the same thing with the music of colour. If we consider the -appearance of painted colour closely such as the gleam of gold or the -flash from the steel of battle we shall only see a number of white or -yellow dashes, points, coloured surfaces. The single colour alone does -not possess this gleam which we gather from the picture. It is only -by its association with other tints that we get the effect of glitter -and flash. Take for example the Atlas of Terburg; every individual -strip of colour here alone is simply a dull gray, more or less whitish, -bluish, or inclining to yellow: only when we take in the entire effect -from a distance, which gives us the relative contrast of each part to -the rest, dawns upon us the beautiful soft sheen which is true of the -genuine Atlas. And it is just the same with our velvet effect, play -of light, exhalation of cloud and so on through all pictorial effect -whatsoever. It is not so much the reflex of the artist's mood<a name="FNanchor_309_309" id="FNanchor_309_309"></a><a href="#Footnote_309_309" class="fnanchor">[309]</a>, -which, as is no doubt frequently the case with landscape, transfers -itself to the objects delineated, as it is the entire ability of the -artist, which seeks to make itself felt in this objective way as the -use of the means at his disposal in such a vital interaction that they -themselves straightway of their own cunning bring to birth a world of -objects.</p> - -<p>(<i>γ</i>) And consequently the interest in the objects delineated tends to -revert to the fact that it is the unique powers of the artist himself -which are thus consciously displayed, and for<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_386" id="Page_386">[Pg 386]</a></span> which the embodiment of -a work of art, independently complete and self-composed, is not of so -much importance as a production in which the creative artist unveils -to us simply his genius. In so far as this <i>personal</i> aspect is no -longer concerned with the external means of presentation but affects -the <i>content</i> itself of the work, the art becomes thereby the art of -caprice and humour.</p> - - -<p>(<i>b</i>) <i>The Humour of Personality</i><a name="FNanchor_310_310" id="FNanchor_310_310"></a><a href="#Footnote_310_310" class="fnanchor">[310]</a></p> - -<p>In humour it is the personality of the artist, which so reproduces -itself both in its particular idiosyncrasies and profounder content, -that the main thing of importance is the spiritual value of this -personality.</p> - -<p>(<i>α</i>) Inasmuch as humour does not so much propose to itself the task -of unfolding and informing an objective content according to its own -essential character, and, by artistic means, of articulating and -rounding it off in such a self-evolved process, as it consists in the -artist's own self-manifestation in the material, he will be mainly -concerned to let everything which tends to become an object and to -secure the rigid lines of reality, or which appears in the external -world, fall away and dissolve under the powerful solvent of his own -fancies, flashes of thought and arresting modes of conception. By this -means every appearance of self-subsistency in such a content, the -embodiment of which is secured in its coalescence through means of a -given fact, is entirely destroyed, and the product is now simply a play -with certain objects, a derangement or a turning upside down of a given -material, the enterprise of a rover throughout such, the interwoven -woof of the artist's own expression; views and moods, through which -he gives free scope to himself quite as much as to his immediate -subject-matter.</p> - -<p>(<i>β</i>) The illusion which readily springs from such a type of art -consists in this, that though it is a very easy matter to make either -oneself or the object given the butt of drollery and wit, and for this -reason the form of humorous composition is that frequently adopted, -yet quite as often as not we find that the humour is dull enough when -our artist gives free rein to any chance conceits or jest which may -occur,<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_387" id="Page_387">[Pg 387]</a></span> which in their loose and patchy connections range to excess -beyond all reasonable limits, and with intentional eccentricity bind -up frequently together the most alien matter. Some nations have -proved themselves indulgent to such artistic experiments, others are -more severe. Among the French such attempts at humorous composition -have not as a rule been successful; we Germans have done better, and -we are more tolerant to the defects of such a style. Jean Paul, for -instance, is a much admired humourist among us; and yet it would be -difficult to point to any writer who is more eccentric in the way he -brings to the common fund what is most remote from his subject, and -patches together an incredibly motley assemblage of subjects, whose -sole bond of relationship is one of the artist's own fancy. The story, -the matter and progress of events are the features of least interest -in his romances. The main attraction throughout is the sportive -procession of his humour which uses everything in its course as a means -to establish his own triumph as a humourist. In this subordination -to itself and concatenation of every conceivable stuff that can be -raked out of the four quarters of the world, or the realm of the real, -the material of humour approximates once more to that of symbolism, -wherein significance and conformity likewise are disjoined, with this -difference, however, that in the former it is purely the personality -of the poet which commands the material no less than the significance, -co-ordinating them according to his own caprice<a name="FNanchor_311_311" id="FNanchor_311_311"></a><a href="#Footnote_311_311" class="fnanchor">[311]</a>. Such a series -of freaks and fancies soon tires us, more particularly when we are -expected to live as best we can in the not unfrequently barely -decipherable combinations which have passed somehow or another in the -clouds of the poet's brain. With Jean Paul, as with scarce another, one -metaphor, sally of wit, drollery, or simile proves the death of its -neighbour. Nothing grows; there is an explosion, that is all. A plot, -however, which purports to have a <i>dénouement</i> must first be unfolded -and prepared for such solution. From another point of view, when the -artist in question is essentially devoid of the solid core and support -of a mind and heart overflowing with the real actualities of existence, -his humour<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_388" id="Page_388">[Pg 388]</a></span> very readily lapses into what is sentimental and morbid. -And in this respect Jean Paul is no less an example.</p> - -<p>(<i>γ</i>) In a humour of the best kind, which keeps itself aloof from -such excrescences, we must therefore have a genuinely spiritual -depth and wealth, able to exalt that which issues as the emanation -of a personality to the rank of real expression, and capable of -making that which is truly substantive arise from that which the -chance suggestions, the mere caprices of the artist, dictate. The -self-abandonment of the poet in the course of his exposition must -be, as it is with humourists such as Sterne or Hippel, a wholly -unembarrassed, easy-going, scarce perceptible kind of saunter<a name="FNanchor_312_312" id="FNanchor_312_312"></a><a href="#Footnote_312_312" class="fnanchor">[312]</a>, -which, insignificant though it appear, manages precisely by that means -to strike at the root of the main idea; and, for the reason that what -thus bubbles up in haphazard fashion are matters of detail, it is -essential that the conception, which binds the whole ideally together, -should have the deeper foundation, and that such detail should simply -flash forth the focal spark of genius.</p> - -<p>We have now arrived at the point where romantic art itself for the -present terminates. It is the standpoint of our most modern outlook, -whose distinctive characteristic we shall find to be mainly this, that -the individual personality[313] of the artist stands supreme above both -the material he informs and his creation. He is no longer dominated by -the conditions of an essentially restricted sphere, in which he must -accept as given both the content and form of his work; it now lies in -his power to choose either as he wills, and to retain both on similar -terms.</p> - -<p>(<i>c</i>) <i>The End of the Romantic Type of Art</i></p> - -<p>Art, in so far as it has hitherto been the subject of our inquiry, had -for its fundamental basis the unity of significance and form, and, as a -further type of it, the unity of the personality of the artist with the -work he embodies and creates<a name="FNanchor_313_313" id="FNanchor_313_313"></a><a href="#Footnote_313_313" class="fnanchor">[313]</a>. More closely defined we may say that -it was<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_389" id="Page_389">[Pg 389]</a></span> the specific type of this union, which supplied the content and -its appropriate artistic presentment with the substantive and directive -principle running through all the images therein.</p> - -<p>We found at the commencement of our inquiry with reference to the -origins of art that in the Eastern world Spirit was not as yet -independently free. It still sought that which it conceived to be the -Absolute in the domain of Nature, and apprehended the natural as itself -essentially Divine. At a further stage the outlook of classical art -set before itself the vision of the Greek Pantheon as unconstrained -and inspired beings, but still in all essential features formed as our -humanity, as individuals charged with a positive physical process<a name="FNanchor_314_314" id="FNanchor_314_314"></a><a href="#Footnote_314_314" class="fnanchor">[314]</a>. -Finally it was romantic art which first permitted Spirit to penetrate -the depths of its own world, in contrast to which flesh, the external -reality and frame of this world generally, albeit the fact that the -spiritual and absolute could alone manifest itself in this world, in -the first instance was divested of all claim to reality<a name="FNanchor_315_315" id="FNanchor_315_315"></a><a href="#Footnote_315_315" class="fnanchor">[315]</a>, but for -all that afterwards asserted such a positive claim with increasing -strength and urgency.</p> - -<p>(<i>α</i>) These distinctive views of the world process constitute religion, -the substantive Spirit or genius of peoples and eras; they not merely -influence art, but are threads of life which permeate every other -domain or province of the living present to which they belong. As -every man, in every sphere of activity, whether it be on the field of -politics, religion, art, or science, is a child of his own age, and -receives the task to elaborate the essential content and consequently -the inevitable plastic form of that age, so, too, the aim that -determines the content of art is no other than that of finding in its -own medium and resources some adequate expression for the spirit of a -nation. So long as the artist is in immediate identity and unshaken -faith inextricably one with the determinate content of such a view of -the world and the religion where it culminates, to that extent this -content and the mode of its presentation will call forth his most -<i>serious</i> powers; in other words this content remains for him the -infinite substance and truth of his own consciousness, a<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_390" id="Page_390">[Pg 390]</a></span> content, -with which he lives, down to the inmost recesses of his spiritual -nature, in original unity; and, moreover, the embodied presence in -which he reveals the same is for him as such an artist<a name="FNanchor_316_316" id="FNanchor_316_316"></a><a href="#Footnote_316_316" class="fnanchor">[316]</a> the final, -necessary, and highest type of such a form, namely that of bringing -before the aesthetic sense the absolute being<a name="FNanchor_317_317" id="FNanchor_317_317"></a><a href="#Footnote_317_317" class="fnanchor">[317]</a> and the ideal -significance<a name="FNanchor_318_318" id="FNanchor_318_318"></a><a href="#Footnote_318_318" class="fnanchor">[318]</a> of the subject-matter of his art. It is through -that aspect of his material which is no other than his own immanent -substance<a name="FNanchor_319_319" id="FNanchor_319_319"></a><a href="#Footnote_319_319" class="fnanchor">[319]</a> that he finds that which binds him to the specific -mode of his exposition. For the material, and with it the form that -appertains to it, carries the artist directly into himself<a name="FNanchor_320_320" id="FNanchor_320_320"></a><a href="#Footnote_320_320" class="fnanchor">[320]</a>, as -being the real essence of his determinate being, which he does not -imagine but rather actually is, and consequently has only to make this -essential part of him an objective fact to himself, to conceive and -elaborate such in a vital form from his own resources. Only under such -conditions is the enthusiasm of the artist fully awakened for either -the content or manifestation of his art; only thus his creations become -no mere product of caprice, but spring up within him, out of him, -out of this living field of his substance, this spiritual capital, -whose content never ceases to be active, until, through the efforts -of the master, it has attained a defined form adequate to its own -ideal notion. When, however, we of to-day would seek to make a Greek -god or, as our own Protestants try to do, a Virgin Mary the object of -a piece of sculpture or a picture, it is impossible for us to treat -such a material with entire seriousness. It is the faith of our inmost -heart which fails us here, albeit even in ages of absolute belief the -artist was by no means necessarily what is commonly understood as a -pious mart, any more than at any time artists generally come in an -exceptional sense under that category. The demand is rather simply -this that in the view of the artist his content should be no other -than the substantive significance, the most spiritual truth of its -own conscious life, and that it should unfold the<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_391" id="Page_391">[Pg 391]</a></span> necessary laws of -its mode of presentation. For an artist is, in his creative activity, -a child of Nature; his ability is in one aspect a talent he receives -from <i>her.</i> His method of working is not the pure activity of rational -apprehension, which places itself in direct opposition to its material, -and unites with it in the medium of free thoughts and pure thinking. -Rather, as one not yet released from the natural aspect, it<a name="FNanchor_321_321" id="FNanchor_321_321"></a><a href="#Footnote_321_321" class="fnanchor">[321]</a> -coalesces immediately with the object, in full faith, and is identical -with it heart and soul. The artistic personality reposes frankly in the -object, the work of art proceeds in like manner absolutely from the -unimpaired spiritual depth and power of genius; the product is <i>ferme</i>, -unwavering, and its entire intensive effect preserved. And this it is -which supplies the fundamental condition of the final demand that Art -be presented us in its flawless totality.</p> - -<p>(<i>β</i>) The situation, however, has entirely changed in view of the -position we have been forced to indicate as that occupied by Art in -this its final stage of evolution. We have, however, no reason to -regard this simply as a misfortune which the chance of events has -made inevitable, one, that is to say, by which art has been overtaken -through the pressure of the times, the prosaic outlook and the dearth -of genuine interests. Rather it is the realization and progress of art -itself, which, by envisaging for present life the material in which -it actually dwells, itself materially assists on this very path, in -each step of its advance, to make itself free of the content that -is presented. In the very fact that we have an object set before -our ocular or spiritual vision, whether it be by Art or the medium -of Thought, with a completeness which practically exhausts it, so -that we have emptied it, and nothing further remains for our eyes to -discover or our souls to explore, in that alone the vital interest -disappears. Our interest only continues where our faculties are kept -fresh and alive. Spirit only concerns itself actively with objects so -long as there is still a mystery unsolved, a something unrevealed. -And this is so so long as the material remains identical with our -own substance. A time comes, however, when Art has displayed, in all -their<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_392" id="Page_392">[Pg 392]</a></span> many aspects, these fundamental views of the world, which are -involved in its own notion, no less than every province of the content -that is bound up with such world-views: when that time arrives such -art is necessarily cast loose of that which has been its previous -specific content for any particular people or age; in such a case the -renewed craving for material to work upon only fully awakes when it -is accepted as inevitable that we must first bid farewell to all that -its activity has previously substantiated: just as in Greece, for -example, Aristophanes opposed a resolute face to his age, and Lucian to -the entire historical Past of his country; or in Italy and Spain, in -the decline of the Middle Ages, both Ariosto and Cervantes opened the -attack on Chivalry.</p> - -<p>In opposition to the age, then, in which the artist, by virtue of -the concrete content of his nationality and times, stands within -a definite outlook upon the world and its modes of embodiment, we -become aware of a point of view diametrically antagonistic, which, so -far as its complete enunciation is concerned, has only in the most -modern times received its due significance. It is only in our own days -that we find the artist no less than the man of science among pretty -nearly all civilized nations, has mastered the cultivation of his -reflective faculty, the art of criticism, and among us Germans the -absolute freedom of thought, and has made this critical apparatus, -both relatively to the material and the form of its production, having -already run through all the necessary phases or types of romantic art, -a kind of <i>tabula rasa.</i><a name="FNanchor_322_322" id="FNanchor_322_322"></a><a href="#Footnote_322_322" class="fnanchor">[322]</a> The specific mode of association for any -particular context, and a manner of presentment exclusively pertinent -to that and no other material, are things which the artist of to-day -looks upon as obsolete. Art has become a free instrument which is -qualified to exercise itself relatively to every content, no matter -what kind it may be, agreeably to the principles or criteria of the -artist's own peculiar craftsmanship. The artist stands superior to all -specific modes and conformations, however much hallowed in the usage, -and moves forward free and independent, untrammelled by either form or -presentment such as previously have brought before man's vision and -mind the one<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_393" id="Page_393">[Pg 393]</a></span> holy and eternal substance. No content, no form is any -longer identical directly with the inmost soul of the artist<a name="FNanchor_323_323" id="FNanchor_323_323"></a><a href="#Footnote_323_323" class="fnanchor">[323]</a>, -his nature, his unaware<a name="FNanchor_324_324" id="FNanchor_324_324"></a><a href="#Footnote_324_324" class="fnanchor">[324]</a> and substantive essence; every material -he may treat with indifference, if he only keep true to the formal -principle that he make his work consonant with beauty and a really -artistic execution. There is, in short, no material nowadays which we -can place on its own independent merits as superior to this law of -relativity; and even if there is one thus sublimely placed beyond it -there is at least no absolute necessity that it should be the object -of <i>artistic</i> presentation. For these reasons the artist is situated -relatively to the content of his work much as the dramatist who places -before us and develops other and alien characters. It is quite true -that even our poet of to-day interposes the atmosphere of his genius -within his delineations, and the warp that he weaves is in fact that -of his own substance; but this only applies to what is universal there -or wholly accidental. The closer traits of individualization are not -his own, but rather he makes use of in this respect his stores of -images, modes of metaphor, earlier types of art, which by themselves he -does not care for, and whose significance is exclusively dependent on -the fact that they turn out to be the most suitable for this or that -matter in hand. In most of the arts, and particularly in the plastic -types, the subject-matter is, apart from this, supplied from outside -to the artist. He works to order, and when occupied with whatever -tales, scenes, and portraits thus come in his way, whether sacred or -profane, has merely to look to it that he can make something out of -them. For, however much he leaves the impress of his genius on a given -content, it remains throughout for all that a material which is not -itself directly the substance of his own conscious life. Nor is it of -any real assistance to him, that he further appropriates, so to speak, -with his soul and substance views of the world that belong to the Past, -in other words, tries to root himself in one of such, and, let us say, -turns Roman Catholic, as not a few have done in recent times for Art's -sake, in order to give their soul some secure foundation,<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_394" id="Page_394">[Pg 394]</a></span> and enable -the definite lines of their artistic product to become themselves -something which shall appear to have an independently valid growth. It -is not a prime condition of the artistic state that the artist should -come completely to terms with his own soul, or should be obliged to -look after his own salvation. What is important is that his soul in -its greatness and freedom should from the first, before it thinks of -creating, both know and possess that whereof it is, should stand fast -by it and reliant within it; and, above all, is it indispensable that -the spirit and mind of the great artist of to-day should have a liberal -education, one in which every kind of superstition and belief which -remains limited to circumscribed forms of outlook and presentment, -should receive their proper subordination as merely aspects or phasal -moments of a larger process; aspects which the free human spirit has -already mastered when it once for all sees that they can furnish -it with no conditions of exposition and creative effort which are, -independently for their own sake, sacrosanct; and only ascribes to them -value in virtue of the loftier content, which itself, as creator and -worker, he reposes in them, making them thus what they ought to be<a name="FNanchor_325_325" id="FNanchor_325_325"></a><a href="#Footnote_325_325" class="fnanchor">[325]</a>.</p> - -<p>It is somewhat in this way nowadays that any and every form and -material may prove of service to and under the control of the artist -whose executive talents and genius have been liberated in their -independence from the former limitation to a specific mode of artistic -work.</p> - -<p>(<i>γ</i>) If we ask, then, in conclusion what are the content and the -modes which may be considered <i>peculiar</i> to the present sphere of our -inquiry, the result will be approximately as follows.</p> - -<p>The universal types of art were pre-eminently related to the absolute -truth to which Art attains, and they discovered the source of their -differentiation in the specific grasp they respectively supplied of -that which passed for the Absolute in the human consciousness, and -which itself carried the principle of its manner of embodiment. In -this respect we have already seen in symbolism Nature's significances -pass before us as content, and her facts and human personification as -the mode of presentation; similarly in the classical<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_395" id="Page_395">[Pg 395]</a></span> type, we have -passed in review spiritual individuality, but as bodily presence which -carried no memory with it<a name="FNanchor_326_326" id="FNanchor_326_326"></a><a href="#Footnote_326_326" class="fnanchor">[326]</a>, and over which the abstract necessity -of Fate stood paramount. In the romantic the intellectual being of the -personal consciousness was asserted inherent in its own substance, and -for the inmost content of which the external form remained entirely -contingent. In this concluding type as in the earlier ones the object -of art was the Divine in its explicitly unfolded nature. This Divine -had however to make itself an object, to define itself, and in the -process to pass from its own immediate substance to the secular content -of the personal consciousness. In the first instance the infinite -essence of personality was reposed in honour, love, and fidelity; -after that in the particular individuality, the specific character -which happened to coalesce with the particular mode of human life in -question. This coalescence, together with the specific limitation of -content appropriate to such, was finally put an end to by humour, -which proved itself capable of dissolving or making pliable to its -purpose any or every line of stable definition, and by so doing made -it possible for art to transcend its own limitations. In this passing -away of Art beyond itself, however, Art is quite as truly the return -of man upon himself, a descent into his own soul-depths, by which -process art strips off from itself every secure barrier set up by a -determinate range of content and conception, and unfolds within our -common humanity<a name="FNanchor_327_327" id="FNanchor_327_327"></a><a href="#Footnote_327_327" class="fnanchor">[327]</a> its new holy of holies, in other words the depths -and heights of the human soul simply, the universal shared of all men -in joy and suffering, in endeavour, action, and destiny. From this -point onwards it is from himself that the artist receives his content, -is in truth the Spirit of man assigning to himself his own boundaries, -contemplating, experiencing and giving utterance to the infinitude of -his emotions and situations, a spirit to which nothing is any more -alien which can possibly emanate as life from the<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_396" id="Page_396">[Pg 396]</a></span> human soul. A -content of this nature is one which cannot persist under the defined -modes of art independent and apart from the activity of the artist. -Rather the definition of content and its elaboration is transferred by -it to the caprice of his invention. But, despite of this, it excludes -no vital interest, because Art is no longer under constraint to -represent that, and only that, which is completely at home in one of -its specific grades. Everything is now possible as its subject-matter, -in which man, on whatever plane of life he may be, possesses either the -need or the capacity of making his abode.</p> - -<p>Confronted with a material of such a wide range and multiplicity, it is -above all of first importance that in respect to the mode of artistic -treatment the Spirit that is now active in our present life should -throughout declare itself as such. Our modern artist may no doubt join -the company of ancients and elders. It is a fine thing to be one of -the Homerides, though we stand last of the line; pictures, too, that -reflect for us once again the atmosphere of romantic art in the Middle -Ages will have a worth of their own. But this universal sufficiency, -depth, and unique suitability of a given material such as we above -described is another thing altogether, and equally so its mode of -presentation. Neither Homer, Sophocles, Dante, Ariosto, nor Shakespeare -can reappear in our times. What has been sung so greatly, what has been -expressed with such freedom, has been sung and expressed once for all. -Only the Present blows fresh; all else is faded and more faded. In the -matter of history we must fain make it something of a reproach to the -French, and we may add to it a criticism on the score of beauty, that -they have presented on their stage Greek and Roman heroes, Chinese, and -Peruvians as so many French princes and princesses, and moreover have -given them the motives and views peculiar to the age of Louis XIV or -Louis XV. Yet, after all, had these very motives and opinions only been -intrinsically deeper and more beautiful than they are we should have -had little fault to find in the fact that the Past is here translated -into Art's present life. On the contrary all material whatsoever, it -matters not from what age or nation it hails, only retains its truth -for art as part of this vital and actual Present, in which<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_397" id="Page_397">[Pg 397]</a></span> it floods -the human heart with the reflected image of its own life, and brings -truth home to man's senses and mind. It is just this revelation and -renewed activity of that humanity which is immortal in all its varied -significance and infinite reconstruction, which, in this its receptacle -of human situations and emotions, forms the possible no less than the -absolute content of the art of our time.</p> - -<p>If we now take a glance back, having established in a general way the -content which distinguishes the subject-matter of this portion of -our inquiry, at that which we finally considered to be the modes of -romantic art's dissolution, we may recall the fact that we then defined -them under a term applicable to all, as the falling to pieces of Art, -a process which, in one of its aspects, was due to an imitation of the -objects of Nature in all the detail of their contingent appearance, -and in another was referable to humour, that unfettered activity of -the individual soul in all its capricious mastery. In conclusion, -we may still draw attention to a further way of fixing on our minds -that <i>terminus</i> of romantic art without prejudice to our previous -remarks upon it. In other words, just as in our advance from symbolism -to classical art, we considered the transitional forms of image, -simile, and epigram, we have also here in romantic art a form somewhat -similar worthy of attention. In those previous modes of conception the -important thing was the falling asunder of the spiritual significance -and the external form, a severation which in part was cancelled by -the activity of the artist's own mind, and in the exceptional case -of the epigram could possibly be converted into complete identity. -Romantic art was from the beginning the profounder disunion of that -inmost soul-life which finds its satisfaction in its own wealth, which, -moreover, for the reason that generally the objective world does not -completely satisfy the demand of Spirit essentially as such, persisted -in its discordance with or indifference to it. This opposition in the -evolution of romantic art finally led us perforce to the point where -we found that the interest was exclusively centered on the contingent -aspects of externality, or the equally capricious activity of the soul. -When, however, this exclusive attention to either side, whether it be -the externality or purely personal presentment, agreeably to the main -principle<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_398" id="Page_398">[Pg 398]</a></span> of romantic art, is carried so far that it becomes a real -penetration of the soul within the object, and the aspect of humour in -its relation to the object and its embodiment within the sphere of its -own individual reaction<a name="FNanchor_328_328" id="FNanchor_328_328"></a><a href="#Footnote_328_328" class="fnanchor">[328]</a> assumes a real importance, in that case -we are face to face with what is a coalescence<a name="FNanchor_329_329" id="FNanchor_329_329"></a><a href="#Footnote_329_329" class="fnanchor">[329]</a> with the object, -and is nothing less than an <i>objective</i> humour. Such a coalescence, -however, can only be of limited range, and find expression merely, say, -within a lyric, or at most in but a portion of a larger composition. -For if its boundaries widened, and it was carried throughout the -object-matter in question, it would necessarily become identical -with the action and event, become, in short, a completely objective -representation. What we have to consider here is rather a sensitive -self-abandonment of the artist's soul in his object, which no doubt is -unfolded in some kind of process, but nevertheless remains a movement -of the imagination and heart indicative rather of <i>individual</i> genius; -a caprice in some sort, and yet not entirely capricious or intentional, -but rather a sympathetic expansion of the artist's genius, which -devotes itself solely to its subject-matter, and makes it exclusively -its interest and content.</p> - -<p>We may usefully compare with such a spirit the last blooms of the -ancient Greek epigram, in which this type appears in its first and -simplest features. The mode we have here in our mind is in the first -instance apparent when the reference to the object is not a mere -statement of fact, is not merely an inscription or transcript which -states what the object is, but is associated with a deeper emotion, -a sleight of witticism, an ingenious fancy, or a real flash of -imaginative power, any or all of which through their poetical grasp -give life to and expand the minutest detail. Poems of this description, -it matters little what their subject-matter may be, whether a tree, a -mill-stream, spring, dead things or alive, are of infinite variety and -may be found in the literature of all nations. They are, however, a -subordinate grade of poetry, and very readily come off halting. For at -least in a country of cultivated speech and reflection there are few -objects and conditions, indeed, which will not offer<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_399" id="Page_399">[Pg 399]</a></span> some further link -of association to every man. And just as the average man thinks himself -qualified to write a letter he will rate his capacity to express such -ideas. One is very easily tired of a universal spirit of sing-song such -as this, even though a stray novelty of touch may be here and there -thrown in. The importance of such a class of composition, therefore, -depends almost entirely on the question how far the artist's soul, -with its full intensity of life, and with a spiritual and intellectual -wealth that is both profound and extensive, has without reserve entered -vitally into such conditions, situations, and so forth; has made a home -there, and from the object in question created something unseen before, -something beautiful, something essentially worth our attention.</p> - -<p>To this end the Persians and Arabians pre-eminently in the oriental -splendour of their images, in the unfettered enjoyment of their -imagination, which enters into the being of its subject-matter in the -purest spirit of contemplation, offer, even for present times and our -own intensity of spiritual penetration, a glorious exemplar. Both the -Spaniards and Italians, too, have done excellent things in the same -direction. It is true that Klopstock says of Petrarch:</p> - -<p> -<span style="margin-left: 9.5em;">—Laura besang Petrarca in Liedern,</span><br /> -<span style="margin-left: 2.5em;">Zwar dem Bewunderer schön, aber dem Liebenden nicht<a name="FNanchor_330_330" id="FNanchor_330_330"></a><a href="#Footnote_330_330" class="fnanchor">[330]</a>.</span><br /> -</p> - -<p>but Klopstock's own love-odes are themselves full of moral reflections, -troubled yearning and passion that is for ever writhing after -immortality of happiness. What we admire most in Petrarch is the -free atmosphere of essentially noble emotion, which, however much it -expresses the longing for the beloved, can none the less repose on its -own heart. For this kind of longing, indeed sensual desire itself, is -far from being absent in the range of the art we now are considering, -when the subject is restricted to wine and love, the tavern and the -glass; the excessive voluptuousness of the images of Persian writers -themselves are in fact an illustration of this; but in this case the -imagination, in the interest it possesses for the intelligence, removes -the object entirely<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_400" id="Page_400">[Pg 400]</a></span> from the sphere of desire which has a practical -aim. It possesses an interest merely in the realm of its own exuberant -activity, finding its delight freely in its own countless freaks and -fancies, and making joys and griefs alike the subject of its sport -Among our modern poets the two who preeminently combine a similar -buoyancy of genius with a more intimate and spiritually searching depth -of imagination are Goethe in his "Westöstlicher Divan" and Rückert. -The essential contrast between Goethe's poetry in the "Divan" and his -more early efforts is quite remarkable. In his "Welcome and Farewell," -for instance, the language and description are no doubt fine in -their way, true feeling is there. In other respects the situation is -commonplace, the climax is poor, and of imagination in the full and -free sense there is no further trace. The poem in the "Divan" entitled -"Recovery"<a name="FNanchor_331_331" id="FNanchor_331_331"></a><a href="#Footnote_331_331" class="fnanchor">[331]</a> is composed in a totally different spirit. Love is here -wholly absorbed in the imagination, and the movement, happiness, and -bliss of the latter are throughout predominant. And, to speak generally -of artistic productions of this class, we may affirm that we find -in them no personal craving, no indications of enamourment, no mere -desire, but a pure delight in the objects delineated, an inexhaustible -self-absorption of imagination, an innocent play, a free surrender to -the coquettish humours even of rhyme and ingenious versification; and -withal an intense jubilation of the soul in its own free movement, a -spirit, which, by means of this very exhilaration induced by artistic -form<a name="FNanchor_332_332" id="FNanchor_332_332"></a><a href="#Footnote_332_332" class="fnanchor">[332]</a> lifts the soul high above all its painful perplexity into the -ordered limits of the real.</p> - -<p>And here we must close our consideration of the particular types -according to which the Ideal of art throughout its process is -self-differentiated. We have made these several modes the subject of -a more extensive inquiry, with a view to unfolding the content of the -same, a content from which the proper modes of artistic presentment -are themselves also deducible. For in Art, too, as in all other human -production, it is the content which is finally decisive. In fact Art, -if we consider the true notion of it, has one and only<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_401" id="Page_401">[Pg 401]</a></span> one supreme -function. It has to set forth in adequate form, within the grasp of our -actual senses, what is itself essential content; and the Philosophy of -Art should consequently regard it as its main business to comprehend -in Thought what this abundance of content and its beautiful mode of -manifestation verily is.</p> -<hr class="r5" /> -<div class="footnote"> - -<p><a name="Footnote_256_256" id="Footnote_256_256"></a><a href="#FNanchor_256_256"><span class="label">[256]</span></a> <i>Subjektivität.</i></p></div> - -<div class="footnote"> - -<p><a name="Footnote_257_257" id="Footnote_257_257"></a><a href="#FNanchor_257_257"><span class="label">[257]</span></a> <i>Für andere</i>, that is for other spiritual beings than -the absolute Spirit as such.</p></div> - -<div class="footnote"> - -<p><a name="Footnote_258_258" id="Footnote_258_258"></a><a href="#FNanchor_258_258"><span class="label">[258]</span></a> <i>Die Innigkeit.</i></p></div> - -<div class="footnote"> - -<p><a name="Footnote_259_259" id="Footnote_259_259"></a><a href="#FNanchor_259_259"><span class="label">[259]</span></a> <i>Aus dem Innern exzeugten.</i></p></div> - -<div class="footnote"> - -<p><a name="Footnote_260_260" id="Footnote_260_260"></a><a href="#FNanchor_260_260"><span class="label">[260]</span></a> <i>Sich in sich hineinbildend.</i> That is by continually -supplying new modes to the subjective spiritual content—until we -arrive at the almost purely spiritual mode of music.</p></div> - -<div class="footnote"> - -<p><a name="Footnote_261_261" id="Footnote_261_261"></a><a href="#FNanchor_261_261"><span class="label">[261]</span></a> <i>Die innere Auflösung.</i></p></div> - -<div class="footnote"> - -<p><a name="Footnote_262_262" id="Footnote_262_262"></a><a href="#FNanchor_262_262"><span class="label">[262]</span></a> The phenomenal world of Nature.</p></div> - -<div class="footnote"> - -<p><a name="Footnote_263_263" id="Footnote_263_263"></a><a href="#FNanchor_263_263"><span class="label">[263]</span></a> <i>Die Verwickelungen.</i></p></div> - -<div class="footnote"> - -<p><a name="Footnote_264_264" id="Footnote_264_264"></a><a href="#FNanchor_264_264"><span class="label">[264]</span></a> <i>Die Abentheuerlichkeit.</i> Hegel means that it is like -the result of an adventure—unforeseen rather than "fantastic."</p></div> - -<div class="footnote"> - -<p><a name="Footnote_265_265" id="Footnote_265_265"></a><a href="#FNanchor_265_265"><span class="label">[265]</span></a> <i>Ein individuelles Subjekt.</i></p></div> - -<div class="footnote"> - -<p><a name="Footnote_266_266" id="Footnote_266_266"></a><a href="#FNanchor_266_266"><span class="label">[266]</span></a> That which supplies its own justification.</p></div> - -<div class="footnote"> - -<p><a name="Footnote_267_267" id="Footnote_267_267"></a><a href="#FNanchor_267_267"><span class="label">[267]</span></a> Lit., unenclosed, that is open indefinitely and so -undefined, unsounded.</p></div> - -<div class="footnote"> - -<p><a name="Footnote_268_268" id="Footnote_268_268"></a><a href="#FNanchor_268_268"><span class="label">[268]</span></a> That is, it is open to extraneous causes that cannot be -predicted from the mere essential notion of them.</p></div> - -<div class="footnote"> - -<p><a name="Footnote_269_269" id="Footnote_269_269"></a><a href="#FNanchor_269_269"><span class="label">[269]</span></a> I presume this is the meaning of the expression <i>das -Aussergöttliche</i> and <i>das partikulär Menschliche.</i></p></div> - -<div class="footnote"> - -<p><a name="Footnote_270_270" id="Footnote_270_270"></a><a href="#FNanchor_270_270"><span class="label">[270]</span></a> <i>Pralle</i>—stiff, metallic in its steeply rigidity.</p></div> - -<div class="footnote"> - -<p><a name="Footnote_271_271" id="Footnote_271_271"></a><a href="#FNanchor_271_271"><span class="label">[271]</span></a> Act I, sc. 5.</p></div> - -<div class="footnote"> - -<p><a name="Footnote_272_272" id="Footnote_272_272"></a><a href="#FNanchor_272_272"><span class="label">[272]</span></a> <i>Miserabilität.</i> One of Hegel's own coinage.</p></div> - -<div class="footnote"> - -<p><a name="Footnote_273_273" id="Footnote_273_273"></a><a href="#FNanchor_273_273"><span class="label">[273]</span></a> An unknown work to me.</p></div> - -<div class="footnote"> - -<p><a name="Footnote_274_274" id="Footnote_274_274"></a><a href="#FNanchor_274_274"><span class="label">[274]</span></a> <i>Ein inneres Werden.</i></p></div> - -<div class="footnote"> - -<p><a name="Footnote_275_275" id="Footnote_275_275"></a><a href="#FNanchor_275_275"><span class="label">[275]</span></a> One is reminded of the Mohammedan fatalism. It is Allah.</p></div> - -<div class="footnote"> - -<p><a name="Footnote_276_276" id="Footnote_276_276"></a><a href="#FNanchor_276_276"><span class="label">[276]</span></a> <i>In einfacher Gedrungenheit.</i> Hegel means that it is -tightly self-sealed, that and nothing more.</p></div> - -<div class="footnote"> - -<p><a name="Footnote_277_277" id="Footnote_277_277"></a><a href="#FNanchor_277_277"><span class="label">[277]</span></a> <i>Hineingelegtseyn.</i> The reference of the whole being to -one object.</p></div> - -<div class="footnote"> - -<p><a name="Footnote_278_278" id="Footnote_278_278"></a><a href="#FNanchor_278_278"><span class="label">[278]</span></a> This was the representation which took place in Berlin -in 1820, with Mademoiselle Erelinger as Juliet.</p></div> - -<div class="footnote"> - -<p><a name="Footnote_279_279" id="Footnote_279_279"></a><a href="#FNanchor_279_279"><span class="label">[279]</span></a> <i>List</i>, usually in depreciatory sense, here otherwise.</p></div> - -<div class="footnote"> - -<p><a name="Footnote_280_280" id="Footnote_280_280"></a><a href="#FNanchor_280_280"><span class="label">[280]</span></a> With the exception, of course, of her presumed father -Prospero.</p></div> - -<div class="footnote"> - -<p><a name="Footnote_281_281" id="Footnote_281_281"></a><a href="#FNanchor_281_281"><span class="label">[281]</span></a> That is, a poetry based rather on the reflective faculty -than the creative imagination.</p></div> - -<div class="footnote"> - -<p><a name="Footnote_282_282" id="Footnote_282_282"></a><a href="#FNanchor_282_282"><span class="label">[282]</span></a> -</p> -<p> -<span style="margin-left: 2.5em;">"He saw it plunge, drink boldly,</span><br /> -<span style="margin-left: 2.5em;">Then sink in sea-depths lost;</span><br /> -<span style="margin-left: 2.5em;">And what his eyes saw loosed him,</span><br /> -<span style="margin-left: 2.5em;">No drop the king drank more."</span><br /> -</p></div> - -<div class="footnote"> - -<p><a name="Footnote_283_283" id="Footnote_283_283"></a><a href="#FNanchor_283_283"><span class="label">[283]</span></a> <i>Lebensläufe in aufsteigender Linie.</i></p></div> - -<div class="footnote"> - -<p><a name="Footnote_284_284" id="Footnote_284_284"></a><a href="#FNanchor_284_284"><span class="label">[284]</span></a> <i>In sich totales, unbeschränktes Gemüth.</i> The -expressions would appear to contradict one another, but the emphasis is -on the unity of a whole which is itself not fully defined.</p></div> - -<div class="footnote"> - -<p><a name="Footnote_285_285" id="Footnote_285_285"></a><a href="#FNanchor_285_285"><span class="label">[285]</span></a> It is not so much a third type as a way of looking at -the previous ones.</p></div> - -<div class="footnote"> - -<p><a name="Footnote_286_286" id="Footnote_286_286"></a><a href="#FNanchor_286_286"><span class="label">[286]</span></a> It is contingent, of course, to the individual. Hegel -does not mean that it is without causality.</p></div> - -<div class="footnote"> - -<p><a name="Footnote_287_287" id="Footnote_287_287"></a><a href="#FNanchor_287_287"><span class="label">[287]</span></a> The sphere of objective fact.</p></div> - -<div class="footnote"> - -<p><a name="Footnote_288_288" id="Footnote_288_288"></a><a href="#FNanchor_288_288"><span class="label">[288]</span></a> From Nature, that is.</p></div> - -<div class="footnote"> - -<p><a name="Footnote_289_289" id="Footnote_289_289"></a><a href="#FNanchor_289_289"><span class="label">[289]</span></a> <i>Ihres inneren Verlaufs.</i> I suppose Hegel means -action under the aspect in which it forms a part of the individual -development—regarded in its relation to will and consciousness.</p></div> - -<div class="footnote"> - -<p><a name="Footnote_290_290" id="Footnote_290_290"></a><a href="#FNanchor_290_290"><span class="label">[290]</span></a> That is, the Christian community.</p></div> - -<div class="footnote"> - -<p><a name="Footnote_291_291" id="Footnote_291_291"></a><a href="#FNanchor_291_291"><span class="label">[291]</span></a> <i>Den Menschen als Menschheit</i>, that is in his generally -secular aspect.</p></div> - -<div class="footnote"> - -<p><a name="Footnote_292_292" id="Footnote_292_292"></a><a href="#FNanchor_292_292"><span class="label">[292]</span></a> I presume this is the sense of <i>gebrochen</i> here. But -lower down it would mean apparently <i>discordant.</i></p></div> - -<div class="footnote"> - -<p><a name="Footnote_293_293" id="Footnote_293_293"></a><a href="#FNanchor_293_293"><span class="label">[293]</span></a> By "fantastic" Hegel seems to me to mean that which is -based on a fancy or imagination that is wholly personal to the artist, -and so adventitious in its results.</p></div> - -<div class="footnote"> - -<p><a name="Footnote_294_294" id="Footnote_294_294"></a><a href="#FNanchor_294_294"><span class="label">[294]</span></a> <i>Sicheres Gemüth</i>—"consistent" both in its literal and -metaphorical senses—one that holds together and is thus self-assured.</p></div> - -<div class="footnote"> - -<p><a name="Footnote_295_295" id="Footnote_295_295"></a><a href="#FNanchor_295_295"><span class="label">[295]</span></a> <i>Das Romanhafte.</i> I cannot think of an English -expression which exactly corresponds.</p></div> - -<div class="footnote"> - -<p><a name="Footnote_296_296" id="Footnote_296_296"></a><a href="#FNanchor_296_296"><span class="label">[296]</span></a> <i>Sich schrauben</i>, like the winding smoke from a -bottle—the corkscrew—-ironical of course.</p></div> - -<div class="footnote"> - -<p><a name="Footnote_297_297" id="Footnote_297_297"></a><a href="#FNanchor_297_297"><span class="label">[297]</span></a> One of the finest illustrations of such a universality -of interest may be found in Ruskin's description of Tintoret's -"Adoration of the Magi."</p></div> - -<div class="footnote"> - -<p><a name="Footnote_298_298" id="Footnote_298_298"></a><a href="#FNanchor_298_298"><span class="label">[298]</span></a> <i>Genialität</i> and <i>genial</i> mean a good deal more than our -English words geniality and genial—they refer directly to genius.</p></div> - -<div class="footnote"> - -<p><a name="Footnote_299_299" id="Footnote_299_299"></a><a href="#FNanchor_299_299"><span class="label">[299]</span></a> <i>Das in sich Nothwendige.</i> The reference is mainly to -the stricter principles of classical art.</p></div> - -<div class="footnote"> - -<p><a name="Footnote_300_300" id="Footnote_300_300"></a><a href="#FNanchor_300_300"><span class="label">[300]</span></a> <i>Nach ihrer ganzen Inneren.</i></p></div> - -<div class="footnote"> - -<p><a name="Footnote_301_301" id="Footnote_301_301"></a><a href="#FNanchor_301_301"><span class="label">[301]</span></a> Lit., "Which possesses for its substantial content -(<i>Substanz</i>) the integrity (<i>Rechtschaffenheit</i>), world-wisdom [here I -think no more is meant than "good sense"] and the morale of daily life -(<i>des Tages</i>)."</p></div> - -<div class="footnote"> - -<p><a name="Footnote_302_302" id="Footnote_302_302"></a><a href="#FNanchor_302_302"><span class="label">[302]</span></a> Lit., "That the material, so far as art appropriates it, -be immanent and at home in that reality." <i>Immanent</i> must I think refer -back to <i>die vorliegende Werklichkeit.</i></p></div> - -<div class="footnote"> - -<p><a name="Footnote_303_303" id="Footnote_303_303"></a><a href="#FNanchor_303_303"><span class="label">[303]</span></a> Vol. I, pp. 229, 230.</p></div> - -<div class="footnote"> - -<p><a name="Footnote_304_304" id="Footnote_304_304"></a><a href="#FNanchor_304_304"><span class="label">[304]</span></a> That is it has no interest <i>quâ</i> a natural object.</p></div> - -<div class="footnote"> - -<p><a name="Footnote_305_305" id="Footnote_305_305"></a><a href="#FNanchor_305_305"><span class="label">[305]</span></a> <i>Scheinen</i> must mean here natural rather than artistic -appearance. Natural appearance is not <i>necessarily</i> beautiful.</p></div> - -<div class="footnote"> - -<p><a name="Footnote_306_306" id="Footnote_306_306"></a><a href="#FNanchor_306_306"><span class="label">[306]</span></a> <i>Des sick in sich vertiefenden Scheinens.</i> It is -self-deepening in proportion to the <i>feiner Sinn</i> below mentioned.</p></div> - -<div class="footnote"> - -<p><a name="Footnote_307_307" id="Footnote_307_307"></a><a href="#FNanchor_307_307"><span class="label">[307]</span></a> I think this is the meaning of the expression <i>das -Physikalische der Farbe</i>—not so much the material constituents of -colour as the effect of colour on physical substances. But either -interpretation makes sense.</p></div> - -<div class="footnote"> - -<p><a name="Footnote_308_308" id="Footnote_308_308"></a><a href="#FNanchor_308_308"><span class="label">[308]</span></a> An artist unknown to me.</p></div> - -<div class="footnote"> - -<p><a name="Footnote_309_309" id="Footnote_309_309"></a><a href="#FNanchor_309_309"><span class="label">[309]</span></a> <i>Gemüth</i>. I think Hegel uses the word here in the -narrower sense rather than "soul" generally.</p></div> - -<div class="footnote"> - -<p><a name="Footnote_310_310" id="Footnote_310_310"></a><a href="#FNanchor_310_310"><span class="label">[310]</span></a> <i>Der subjektive Humor.</i></p></div> - -<div class="footnote"> - -<p><a name="Footnote_311_311" id="Footnote_311_311"></a><a href="#FNanchor_311_311"><span class="label">[311]</span></a> Lit., "And arranges them side by side in an alien -order." That is, under a principle of co-ordination which does not lie -in the subject-matter.</p></div> - -<div class="footnote"> - -<p><a name="Footnote_312_312" id="Footnote_312_312"></a><a href="#FNanchor_312_312"><span class="label">[312]</span></a> <i>Unscheinbares Fortschlendern.</i></p></div> - -<div class="footnote"> - -<p><a name="Footnote_313_313" id="Footnote_313_313"></a><a href="#FNanchor_313_313"><span class="label">[313]</span></a> <i>Die Subjektivität des Kunstlers.</i> The expression -as used here and below implies, of course, not so much the formal -personality or character as the individual spirit and its resources.</p></div> - -<div class="footnote"> - -<p><a name="Footnote_314_314" id="Footnote_314_314"></a><a href="#FNanchor_314_314"><span class="label">[314]</span></a> I presume this is the meaning of <i>von einem affirmativen -Momente.</i></p></div> - -<div class="footnote"> - -<p><a name="Footnote_315_315" id="Footnote_315_315"></a><a href="#FNanchor_315_315"><span class="label">[315]</span></a> Lit., "Was at first posited as naught."</p></div> - -<div class="footnote"> - -<p><a name="Footnote_316_316" id="Footnote_316_316"></a><a href="#FNanchor_316_316"><span class="label">[316]</span></a> That is, as an artist for whom it is <i>wahrhafter Ernst.</i></p></div> - -<div class="footnote"> - -<p><a name="Footnote_317_317" id="Footnote_317_317"></a><a href="#FNanchor_317_317"><span class="label">[317]</span></a> <i>Das Absolute</i> here is, I think, referable to the -subject-matter of art rather than to be taken as "the Absolute" simply.</p></div> - -<div class="footnote"> - -<p><a name="Footnote_318_318" id="Footnote_318_318"></a><a href="#FNanchor_318_318"><span class="label">[318]</span></a> <i>Die Seele.</i> Perhaps "vital principle" would be better.</p></div> - -<div class="footnote"> - -<p><a name="Footnote_319_319" id="Footnote_319_319"></a><a href="#FNanchor_319_319"><span class="label">[319]</span></a> That is, Spirit or mind.</p></div> - -<div class="footnote"> - -<p><a name="Footnote_320_320" id="Footnote_320_320"></a><a href="#FNanchor_320_320"><span class="label">[320]</span></a> There is an uncorrected misprint here, <i>der</i> should be -<i>den</i> and <i>tragen</i> would be an improvement on <i>trägt.</i></p></div> - -<div class="footnote"> - -<p><a name="Footnote_321_321" id="Footnote_321_321"></a><a href="#FNanchor_321_321"><span class="label">[321]</span></a> I am not certain whether the subject is here the artist -himself, or his mode of working. The context would suggest the latter, -the better sense the former.</p></div> - -<div class="footnote"> - -<p><a name="Footnote_322_322" id="Footnote_322_322"></a><a href="#FNanchor_322_322"><span class="label">[322]</span></a> Reflection has destroyed the <i>necessity</i> of any -particular form.</p></div> - -<div class="footnote"> - -<p><a name="Footnote_323_323" id="Footnote_323_323"></a><a href="#FNanchor_323_323"><span class="label">[323]</span></a> That is the life of Spirit. <i>Das Heilige und Ewige.</i></p></div> - -<div class="footnote"> - -<p><a name="Footnote_324_324" id="Footnote_324_324"></a><a href="#FNanchor_324_324"><span class="label">[324]</span></a> <i>Bewusstlosen.</i> His spiritual nature in its unexplored -universality is, I presume, the sense.</p></div> - -<div class="footnote"> - -<p><a name="Footnote_325_325" id="Footnote_325_325"></a><a href="#FNanchor_325_325"><span class="label">[325]</span></a> <i>Als ihnen gemäss.</i> As adequate to their completely -explicit nature.</p></div> - -<div class="footnote"> - -<p><a name="Footnote_326_326" id="Footnote_326_326"></a><a href="#FNanchor_326_326"><span class="label">[326]</span></a> <i>Aber als leibliche unerinnerte Gegenwart.</i> I am not -sure that I know precisely the sense here, unless it amounts to -this that the Greek gods were without an historical memory. Their -immortality swallowed up in its repose the sense of beings in time, and -assumed to be in human bodily shape.</p></div> - -<div class="footnote"> - -<p><a name="Footnote_327_327" id="Footnote_327_327"></a><a href="#FNanchor_327_327"><span class="label">[327]</span></a> <i>Zu ihrem neuen Heiligen den Humanus macht</i>, an uncommon -phrase.</p></div> - -<div class="footnote"> - -<p><a name="Footnote_328_328" id="Footnote_328_328"></a><a href="#FNanchor_328_328"><span class="label">[328]</span></a> <i>Innerhalt seines subjektiven Reflexes.</i> That is, the -synthetic activity of humour's reflection.</p></div> - -<div class="footnote"> - -<p><a name="Footnote_329_329" id="Footnote_329_329"></a><a href="#FNanchor_329_329"><span class="label">[329]</span></a> <i>Verinnigung</i>, a stronger word than <i>Vereinigung.</i></p></div> - -<div class="footnote"> - -<p><a name="Footnote_330_330" id="Footnote_330_330"></a><a href="#FNanchor_330_330"><span class="label">[330]</span></a> "Petrarch sang songs of his Laura. To him who wonders at -beautiful songs they are beautiful, to the lover they are not so."</p></div> - -<div class="footnote"> - -<p><a name="Footnote_331_331" id="Footnote_331_331"></a><a href="#FNanchor_331_331"><span class="label">[331]</span></a> "<i>Wiederfinden</i>."</p></div> - -<div class="footnote"> - -<p><a name="Footnote_332_332" id="Footnote_332_332"></a><a href="#FNanchor_332_332"><span class="label">[332]</span></a> I am not quite sure that <i>die Heiterkeit des Gestaltens</i> -does not mean "the buoyancy of the created form."</p></div> - - -<h4>END OF VOL. II</h4> - -<hr class="full" /> -<p style="margin-left: 15%;"> -<span class="caption" style="font-size: 0.8em;"><a id="INDEX"></a>INDEX</span><br /> -<br /> -<br /> -Accompaniment, Music as, iii, 377-379,<br /> -<span style="margin-left: 1em;">413-418; of human voice, iii, 383.</span><br /> -Aeschylus, reference to the "Agamemnon," i, 285;<br /> -<span style="margin-left: 1em;">to the "Eumenides," i, 302, 303, 372;</span><br /> -<span style="margin-left: 1em;">ii, <a href="#Page_213">213</a>-<a href="#Page_215">215</a>, <a href="#Page_223">223</a>; iv, 306, 324;</span><br /> -<span style="margin-left: 1em;">to the "Coephorae," and the "Seven before Thebes,"</span><br /> -<span style="margin-left: 1em;">iv, 318; change of scene in his dramas, iv, 257;</span><br /> -<span style="margin-left: 1em;">universal powers in dramas, i, 377; char acter</span><br /> -<span style="margin-left: 1em;">of Clytemnaestra, ii, <a href="#Page_345">345</a>.</span><br /> -Aesop, Fables of, ii, <a href="#Page_115">115</a>.<br /> -Anacreon, odes of, iv, 203, 233.<br /> -Aphrodite, description of, iii, 185.<br /> -Architecture, types of classical, iii, 80-90;<br /> -<span style="margin-left: 1em;">Roman, iii, 87-88; Gothic, iii, 91-104;</span><br /> -<span style="margin-left: 1em;">Byzantine, iii, 105.</span><br /> -Aristophanes, subject-matter of his comedies,<br /> -<span style="margin-left: 1em;">iv, 277, 283, 304, 329; himself an actor,</span><br /> -<span style="margin-left: 1em;">iv, 286; his "Ecclesiazusae," iv, 303.</span><br /> -Aristotle, reference to the "Poetics," i, 19;<br /> -<span style="margin-left: 1em;">on tragedy, i, 283; on use of simile, ii, <a href="#Page_143">143</a>;</span><br /> -<span style="margin-left: 1em;">proper subject of tragedy, iv, 131;</span><br /> -<span style="margin-left: 1em;">on unities of time and place, iv, 256.</span><br /> -Artist, as executant, iii, 426-430.<br /> -Athene, nature of as goddess of Athens, iv, 325.<br /> -Bach, J. S., supreme master of ecclesiastical<br /> -<span style="margin-left: 1em;">music, iii, 419.</span><br /> -Beethoven, L. van, soul-release in art's freedom,<br /> -<span style="margin-left: 1em;">iii, 349; symphonies of, iii, 355 n.</span><br /> -Bosanquet, B., references to translation of<br /> -<span style="margin-left: 1em;">Hegel's Introduction by in present translator's</span><br /> -<span style="margin-left: 1em;">notes, i, 28, 29, 31, 32, 37, 40, 45, 52,</span><br /> -<span style="margin-left: 1em;">65, 66, 68, 69, 71, 73, 76, 88,</span><br /> -<span style="margin-left: 1em;">93, 96, 100, 108, 109, 116, 181.</span><br /> -Bradley, A. C., reference to Lectures on Poetry, i, 265 n.<br /> -Bradley, F. H., i, 73, 96 n.<br /> -Brahman, supreme godhead in Hindu theosophy, ii, <a href="#Page_50">50</a>-<a href="#Page_61">61</a>, <a href="#Page_91">91</a>.<br /> -Calderon, quotation from, ii, <a href="#Page_142">142</a>; comparisons of, ii, <a href="#Page_149">149</a>.<br /> -Camoens, the "Lysiad" of, iv, 190.<br /> -Cervantes, type of comedy in "Don Quixote," i, 262; ii, <a href="#Page_374">374</a>;<br /> -<span style="margin-left: 1em;">dissolution of chivalry as depicted by Cervantes and</span><br /> -<span style="margin-left: 1em;">Ariosto, ii, <a href="#Page_373">373</a>.</span><br /> -Chivalry, general description of, iv, 185-187.<br /> -Chorus, Greek, nature of, iv, 315-317.<br /> -Cid, the Spanish poem of the,<br /> -<span style="margin-left: 1em;">description of, iv, 182;</span><br /> -<span style="margin-left: 1em;">heroic personality of the, ii, <a href="#Page_348">348</a>; iv, 138-140;</span><br /> -<span style="margin-left: 1em;">nature of collision in, i, 321.</span><br /> -Columns, Greek, iii, 69-76; orders of, iii, 82-85;<br /> -<span style="margin-left: 1em;">on the Greek temple generally, iii, 79.</span><br /> -Creutzer, his work on symbolism, iii, 17, 18;<br /> -<span style="margin-left: 1em;">affinity of Egyptian and Hellenic art on coins, iii, 203.</span><br /> -<span style="margin-left: 1em;">See also ii, <a href="#Page_138">138</a>; iii, 39, 41.</span><br /> -Cuvier, analytical power of, i, 176.<br /> -<br /> -Dante, conciseness of, i, 350; allegory in, ii, <a href="#Page_19">19</a>;<br /> -<span style="margin-left: 1em;">on the love of Beatrice, iii, 340;</span><br /> -<span style="margin-left: 1em;">description of the damned, iii, 319;</span><br /> -<span style="margin-left: 1em;">the "Divine Comedy" contrasted with "Æneid" and</span><br /> -<span style="margin-left: 1em;">"Odyssey" as epical narrative, iv, 163;</span><br /> -<span style="margin-left: 1em;">general description of "Divine Comedy," iv, 184.</span><br /> -Denner, realistic portraits of, iii, 270.<br /> -Destiny, supreme significance of in Epos, iv, 144;<br /> -<span style="margin-left: 1em;">fate in tragedy, iv, 312, 322; as necessity, iv, 254.</span><br /> -<span style="margin-left: 1em;">See also particularly as to Greek art, ii, <a href="#Page_261">261</a>-<a href="#Page_264">264</a>.</span><br /> -Drapery. See under Sculpture.<br /> -Dutch School, description of, i, 228-230; ii, <a href="#Page_382">382</a>-<a href="#Page_386">386</a>;<br /> -<span style="margin-left: 1em;">iii, 334-337; landscape in art of, i, 397;</span><br /> -<span style="margin-left: 1em;">colouring of, iii, 276.</span><br /> -<br /> -Einbildungskraft, meaning of as distinct from Phantasie<br /> -<span style="margin-left: 1em;">and Vorstellung, i, 55 n., 62 n., 381 n.</span><br /> -Euripides, the "Alcestis" of, i, 275;<br /> -<span style="margin-left: 1em;">treatment of love in the Phedra, iii, 340;</span><br /> -<span style="margin-left: 1em;">transition of drama of to sentimental pathos, iv, 321.</span><br /> -Eyck, H. van, supreme concep tion of God the Father, iii, 252;<br /> -<span style="margin-left: 1em;">his picture of the Madonna, iii, 255;</span><br /> -<span style="margin-left: 1em;">his "Adoration," iii, 262;</span><br /> -<span style="margin-left: 1em;">description of brothers Hubert and John, iii, 330.</span><br /> -Ferdusi, "Shahrameh" of, i, 251, 277.<br /> -Fichte, his position in history of Aesthetic Philosophy, i, 89-91.<br /> -Flesh-colour, nature of, in painting, iii, 285.<br /> -Giotto, reforms of, in painting, iii, 322.<br /> -Goethe, definition of the beautiful by, i, 21, 36-38, 91;<br /> -<span style="margin-left: 1em;">reference to his "Iphigeneia," i, 262, 304-306, 373; iv, 307;</span><br /> -<span style="margin-left: 1em;">to "Faust," iv, 333; to his Tasso, iv, 307;</span><br /> -<span style="margin-left: 1em;">to "Hermann and Dorothea," i, 256, 353;</span><br /> -<span style="margin-left: 1em;">to "Werther," i, 271, 321;</span><br /> -<span style="margin-left: 1em;">to the "Bride of Corinth," ii, <a href="#Page_270">270</a>;</span><br /> -<span style="margin-left: 1em;">to the "Westöstlicher Divan," i, 372; ii, <a href="#Page_96">96</a>, <a href="#Page_400">400</a>; iv, 233;</span><br /> -<span style="margin-left: 1em;">to "Dichtung und Wahrheit," iii, 289;</span><br /> -<span style="margin-left: 1em;">to the "King of Thule," ii, <a href="#Page_363">363</a>; his "Mignon," iii, 298;</span><br /> -<span style="margin-left: 1em;">his theory of colour, i, 117 n.;</span><br /> -<span style="margin-left: 1em;">on the innate reason of nature, i, 179;</span><br /> -<span style="margin-left: 1em;">Goethe on Hamlet, i, 307; ii, <a href="#Page_364">364</a>;</span><br /> -<span style="margin-left: 1em;">his pathos contrasted with that of Schiller, i, 313;</span><br /> -<span style="margin-left: 1em;">rivalry of with Shakespeare, iv, 338;</span><br /> -<span style="margin-left: 1em;">quotation from Goetz von Berlichengen, i, 366;</span><br /> -<span style="margin-left: 1em;">the ripeness of his maturity, i, 384;</span><br /> -<span style="margin-left: 1em;">on Gothic architecture, iii, 76;</span><br /> -<span style="margin-left: 1em;">Xenien of, ii, <a href="#Page_145">145</a>; on harmonious colouring, iii, 283;</span><br /> -<span style="margin-left: 1em;">supreme quality of folk-songs of, 386;</span><br /> -<span style="margin-left: 1em;">songs of comradeship, iv, 205;</span><br /> -<span style="margin-left: 1em;">prose in his dramas, iv, 71;</span><br /> -<span style="margin-left: 1em;">imitation of Icelandic, iv, 208;</span><br /> -<span style="margin-left: 1em;">as a Lyric poet generally, iv, 217.</span><br /> -Greek art, origin of in freedom, ii, <a href="#Page_183">183</a>;<br /> -<span style="margin-left: 1em;">content of, ii, <a href="#Page_184">184</a>-<a href="#Page_186">186</a>;</span><br /> -<span style="margin-left: 1em;">Gods of, ii, <a href="#Page_224">224</a>-<a href="#Page_228">228</a>; iii, 183-186, 188;</span><br /> -<span style="margin-left: 1em;">absence of the sublime in, ii, <a href="#Page_237">237</a>;</span><br /> -<span style="margin-left: 1em;">incapable of repetition, iii, 396;</span><br /> -<span style="margin-left: 1em;">Greek epigrams, ii, <a href="#Page_398">398</a>;</span><br /> -<span style="margin-left: 1em;">character of dramatis personae in Greek art, iv, 317-320.</span><br /> -Greek chorus. See under Chorus.<br /> -Greek mysteries. See under Mysteries.<br /> -Greek oracles. See under Oracles,<br /> -Hafis, Lyrics of, iv, 237; quotation from, ii, <a href="#Page_94">94</a>, <a href="#Page_95">95</a>, <a href="#Page_147">147</a>.<br /> -Helmholtz, researches of in music, iii, 390 n.<br /> -Herder, his conception of Folkslied, i, 364.<br /> -Herodotus, statement of as to Homer and Hesiod, ii, <a href="#Page_190">190</a>, <a href="#Page_231">231</a>;<br /> -<span style="margin-left: 1em;">his account of temple of Belus, iii, 37;</span><br /> -<span style="margin-left: 1em;">date of his history's commencement, iv, 39;</span><br /> -<span style="margin-left: 1em;">on battle of Thermopylae, iv, 23;</span><br /> -<span style="margin-left: 1em;">as general authority for Egyptian history and art,</span><br /> -<span style="margin-left: 1em;">see vol. iii, ch. i.</span><br /> -Hesiod, mythology of, ii, <a href="#Page_63">63</a>, <a href="#Page_64">64</a>, <a href="#Page_167">167</a>, <a href="#Page_216">216</a>;<br /> -<span style="margin-left: 1em;">reference to his "Works and Days," iv, 108.</span><br /> -Hindoos, architecture of, iii, 48-51; religion of, ii, <a href="#Page_47">47</a>-<a href="#Page_64">64</a>.<br /> -Hippel, humour of his "Life's Careers," ii, <a href="#Page_365">365</a>.<br /> -Hirt, connoisseur, his emphasis on the characteristic, i, 22-24;<br /> -<span style="margin-left: 1em;">on origins of architecture, iii, 27;</span><br /> -<span style="margin-left: 1em;">on Memnons, iii, 41;</span><br /> -<span style="margin-left: 1em;">on the original materials of building, iii, 66.</span><br /> -Homer, vividness of his characterization, i, 225, 235;<br /> -<span style="margin-left: 1em;">the heroes of, i, 250;</span><br /> -<span style="margin-left: 1em;">starting-point of Iliad in wrath of Achilles, i, 290;</span><br /> -<span style="margin-left: 1em;">iv, 30, 156, 167; hero as focus of many traits, i, 316;</span><br /> -<span style="margin-left: 1em;">landscape in, i, 341; iv, 123, 154;</span><br /> -<span style="margin-left: 1em;">type of society in Iliad, i, 352, 377;</span><br /> -<span style="margin-left: 1em;">whether personal experience of poet, i, 357; iv, 122;</span><br /> -<span style="margin-left: 1em;">his use of simile, ii, <a href="#Page_154">154</a>;</span><br /> -<span style="margin-left: 1em;">quotations from the Iliad, ii, <a href="#Page_154">154</a>, <a href="#Page_155">155</a>;</span><br /> -<span style="margin-left: 1em;">sacrifices in the Iliad, ii, <a href="#Page_192">192</a>;</span><br /> -<span style="margin-left: 1em;">unity of Homeric god-world, ii, <a href="#Page_219">219</a>;</span><br /> -<span style="margin-left: 1em;">human motives defined through god's action, ii, <a href="#Page_234">234</a>, <a href="#Page_235">235</a>;</span><br /> -<span style="margin-left: 1em;">freedom of Greek gods in, ii, <a href="#Page_239">239</a>;</span><br /> -<span style="margin-left: 1em;">individuality of gods in, ii, <a href="#Page_242">242</a>-<a href="#Page_258">258</a>;</span><br /> -<span style="margin-left: 1em;">poet later than the Trojan war, iv, 124.</span><br /> -Horace, Ars Poetica of, i, 19, 69;<br /> -<span style="margin-left: 1em;">artificial character of his Odes, iv, 229.</span><br /> -<br /> -Iffland, reference to, iv, 290, 344;<br /> -superficial quality of, ii, <a href="#Page_381">381</a>.<br /> -Immortality, contrast of conception in Pagan<br /> -<span style="margin-left: 1em;">and Christian thought, ii, <a href="#Page_287">287</a>-<a href="#Page_290">290</a>.</span><br /> -Irony, the views of Schlegel,<br /> -<span style="margin-left: 1em;">Solger and Tieck on, i, 90-94; iv, 271.</span><br /> -<br /> -Jacobi, the "Woldemar" of, i, 322.<br /> -<br /> -Kant, Immanuel, relation of his<br /> -<span style="margin-left: 1em;">philosophy to Philosophy of</span><br /> -<span style="margin-left: 1em;">Aesthetik, i, 78-84, 149, 154 n.;</span><br /> -<span style="margin-left: 1em;">on the sublime, iii, 86, 87.</span><br /> -Klopstock, his rank as an Epic poet, iv, 150-152;<br /> -<span style="margin-left: 1em;">his personality, iv, 216, 244, 245;</span><br /> -<span style="margin-left: 1em;">partly artificial enthusiasm, iv, 229.</span><br /> -Kotzebue, popular effects of, i, 362;<br /> -<span style="margin-left: 1em;">superficial rapidity of, ii, <a href="#Page_381">381</a>;</span><br /> -<span style="margin-left: 1em;">bad composition of, iv, 290;</span><br /> -<span style="margin-left: 1em;">ethical baseness of, iv, 304.</span><br /> -<br /> -Landscape gardening, i, 332-333<br /> -Laocoon, statue group, iii, 191.<br /> -Lessing, his introduction of prose into drama, iv, 71;<br /> -<span style="margin-left: 1em;">didactic drama of, iv, 277.</span><br /> -Libretto, nature of good, iii, 355-357.<br /> -Light, the nature of as an element, ii, <a href="#Page_225">225</a>-<a href="#Page_226">226</a>.<br /> -Longinus, his Essay on the Sublime, i, 19.<br /> -Lötze, See i, 82 n.<br /> -Luther. See ii, <a href="#Page_13">13</a>.<br /> -<br /> -Memnons, iii, 41-43.<br /> -Meredith, George, i, 36 n., 216 n.; ii, <a href="#Page_339">339</a> n.; iv, 347 n.<br /> -Michelangelo, his power to depict devils, iii, 307.<br /> -<span style="margin-left: 1em;">See also, i, 224 n.; iii, 27 n.</span><br /> -Molière, character of comedies of, iv, 345-347.<br /> -Mozart, example of precocity, i, 37 n.;<br /> -<span style="margin-left: 1em;">symphonies of, iii, 385;</span><br /> -<span style="margin-left: 1em;">Libretto of his "Magic Flute," iii, 415;</span><br /> -<span style="margin-left: 1em;">just mean of splendour in opera, iv, 291.</span><br /> -Mysteries, Greek, ii, <a href="#Page_221">221</a>.<br /> -Natural, the natural in art as distinct from<br /> -<span style="margin-left: 1em;">the barbarous or childish, iii, 6-8;</span><br /> -<span style="margin-left: 1em;">natural diction in Lessing,</span><br /> -<span style="margin-left: 1em;">Goethe and Schiller, iv, 265-267.</span><br /> -<br /> -Oracles, Greek, ii, <a href="#Page_205">205</a>-<a href="#Page_208">208</a>.<br /> -Originality, nature of in art, i, 394-405.<br /> -Ossian, character of his heroes, i, 343;<br /> -<span style="margin-left: 1em;">similes of, ii, <a href="#Page_151">151</a>, <a href="#Page_153">153</a>;</span><br /> -authorship of, iv, 146, 180. See also iv, 114, 127.<br /> -Ovid, Metamorphoses of, ii, <a href="#Page_126">126</a>;<br /> -<span style="margin-left: 1em;">similes of, ii, <a href="#Page_152">152</a>, <a href="#Page_198">198</a>.</span><br /> -<br /> -Pathos, nature of, i, 308-325;<br /> -<span style="margin-left: 1em;">pathos of drama, iv, 265;</span><br /> -<span style="margin-left: 1em;">that of Goethe and Schiller compared, i, 313.</span><br /> -Pheidias, school of, i, 235;<br /> -<span style="margin-left: 1em;">materials used by, iii, 199;</span><br /> -<span style="margin-left: 1em;">the plastic ideal of, iii, 133;</span><br /> -<span style="margin-left: 1em;">Elgin marbles, iii, 138;</span><br /> -<span style="margin-left: 1em;">the "Zeus" of, iii, 117, 184.</span><br /> -Pindar, Odes of as occasional, i, 271;<br /> -<span style="margin-left: 1em;">his odes compared with elegies</span><br /> -<span style="margin-left: 1em;">of Callinus and Tyrtaeus, iv, 201;</span><br /> -<span style="margin-left: 1em;">Pythian priestess on his merit, iv, 216;</span><br /> -<span style="margin-left: 1em;">enthusiasm of, iv, 229;</span><br /> -<span style="margin-left: 1em;">his creative gift, iv, 241.</span><br /> -Plastic, personality, of Greeks, as Pericles,<br /> -<span style="margin-left: 0.5em;">Pheidias and Sophocles, iii, 133.</span><br /> -Plato, relation of his philosophy<br /> -<span style="margin-left: 1em;">to the universal concept or notion, i, 27, 28, 197;</span><br /> -<span style="margin-left: 1em;">his relation to art generally, i, 141;</span><br /> -<span style="margin-left: 1em;">citation from, i, 210; his use of simile, ii. <a href="#Page_143">143</a>.</span><br /> -Portraiture, in painting, iii, 307-311.<br /> -Praxiteles, iii, 190.<br /> -Prometheus, ii, <a href="#Page_209">209</a>-<a href="#Page_215">215</a>.<br /> -Psalms, Hebrew, general character of, i, 378;<br /> -<span style="margin-left: 1em;">illustrate the sublime, ii, <a href="#Page_102">102</a>-<a href="#Page_104">104</a>;</span><br /> -<span style="margin-left: 1em;">iv, 226-228.</span><br /> -Pyramids, the, iii, 55.<br /> -<br /> -Racine, the "Esther" of, i, 361; his Phèdre, i, 321.<br /> -Ramajana, the, episodes from, ii, <a href="#Page_51">51</a>-<a href="#Page_53">53</a>, <a href="#Page_61">61</a>.<br /> -<span style="margin-left: 1em;">See also iv, 110, 112, 165, 175.</span><br /> -Raphael, general references to, i, 37, 212, 380, 385;<br /> -<span style="margin-left: 1em;">possesses "great" manner with Homer and Shakespeare, i, 405;</span><br /> -<span style="margin-left: 1em;">his Madonna pictures, iii, 227; cartoons of, iii, 242;</span><br /> -<span style="margin-left: 1em;">mythological subjects, iii, 245;</span><br /> -<span style="margin-left: 1em;">his "Sistine Madonna," iii, 255, 262, 304;</span><br /> -<span style="margin-left: 1em;">his "School of Athens," iii, 254;</span><br /> -<span style="margin-left: 1em;">vitality of drawings of, iii, 275;</span><br /> -<span style="margin-left: 1em;">perfection of technique, iii, 328;</span><br /> -<span style="margin-left: 1em;">translator's criticism on extreme praise</span><br /> -<span style="margin-left: 1em;">of Raphael and Correggio, iii, 329 n.</span><br /> -Reni, Guido, sentimental mannerisms of, iii, 264.<br /> -Richter, J. P., Kaleidoscopic effects of, i, 402;<br /> -<span style="margin-left: 1em;">sentimentalism of, ii, <a href="#Page_365">365</a>;</span><br /> -<span style="margin-left: 1em;">humour of compared with Sterne's, ii, <a href="#Page_387">387</a>.</span><br /> -Rösel, Author of "Diversions of Insect life," i, 59.<br /> -Rumohr, von, Author on Aesthetic Philosophy, i, 148, 232;<br /> -<span style="margin-left: 1em;">on style, i, 399; on Italian painters and in particular,</span><br /> -<span style="margin-left: 1em;">Duccio, Cimabue, Giotto, Masaccio, Fra Angelico,</span><br /> -<span style="margin-left: 1em;">Perugino, Raphael and Correggio, iii, 316-330.</span><br /> -Ruskin, J., i, 62 n., 72 n., 230 n.<br /> -Sachs, Hans, religious familiarity of, i, 359.<br /> -Satire, in Plautus and Terence, ii, <a href="#Page_277">277</a>; iv, 305;<br /> -<span style="margin-left: 1em;">in Sallust and Tacitus, ii, <a href="#Page_278">278</a>;</span><br /> -<span style="margin-left: 1em;">not successful in modern times, ii, <a href="#Page_279">279</a>;</span><br /> -<span style="margin-left: 1em;">belongs to third type after tragic</span><br /> -<span style="margin-left: 1em;">and comic drama, iv, 305.</span><br /> -Schelling, Art Philosophy of, iii, 23 n.<br /> -Schiller, rawness of early work, iii, 38;<br /> -<span style="margin-left: 1em;">his "Letters on Aesthetic," i, 84-86;</span><br /> -<span style="margin-left: 1em;">quotation from, i, 214;</span><br /> -<span style="margin-left: 1em;">reference to "Braut von Messina," i, 258;</span><br /> -<span style="margin-left: 1em;">to "Kabale und Liebe," i, 261; iv, 333;</span><br /> -<span style="margin-left: 1em;">to Wallenstein," iv, 288;</span><br /> -<span style="margin-left: 1em;">to the "Maid of Orleans," i, 261; iv, 291, 339;</span><br /> -<span style="margin-left: 1em;">extreme scenic effect of the latter drama, iv, 291;</span><br /> -<span style="margin-left: 1em;">narrative too epical in same drama, iv, 161;</span><br /> -<span style="margin-left: 1em;">reference to "Wilhelm Tell," i, 379;</span><br /> -<span style="margin-left: 1em;">pathos of Schiller, i, 394;</span><br /> -<span style="margin-left: 1em;">his use of metaphor, ii, <a href="#Page_144">144</a>;</span><br /> -<span style="margin-left: 1em;">attitude to Christianity, ii, <a href="#Page_268">268</a>;</span><br /> -<span style="margin-left: 1em;">profundity of, iii, 414;</span><br /> -<span style="margin-left: 1em;">character of his songs, iv, 207, 239;</span><br /> -<span style="margin-left: 1em;">his criticism of Goethe's Iphigeneia, iv, 275;</span><br /> -<span style="margin-left: 1em;">leaves much to actor, iv, 288.</span><br /> -Schlegel, F. von, Aesthetic theory of, i, 87-89;<br /> -<span style="margin-left: 1em;">art as allegory, ii, <a href="#Page_134">134</a>; statement of,</span><br /> -<span style="margin-left: 1em;">that architecture is frozen music, iii, 65.</span><br /> -Sculpture, drapery of, iii, 165-171;<br /> -<span style="margin-left: 1em;">materials of, iii, 195-201; Egyptian, iii, 203-210;</span><br /> -<span style="margin-left: 1em;">Etruscan, iii, 211; Christian, iii, 213;</span><br /> -<span style="margin-left: 1em;">the Laocoon group, iii, 178-191; soul-suffering of, iii, 256.</span><br /> -Shakespeare, William, materials of his dramas, i, 255, 324;<br /> -<span style="margin-left: 1em;">reference to drama "Macbeth," i, 277; to Lady Macbeth, i, 324;</span><br /> -<span style="margin-left: 1em;">to witches of "Macbeth," i, 307; ii, <a href="#Page_366">366</a>;</span><br /> -<span style="margin-left: 1em;">to "Macbeth," iv, 337, 341; to "Hamlet," ii, <a href="#Page_378">378</a>; iv, 334, 342;</span><br /> -<span style="margin-left: 1em;">to "Othello," iv, 337; to "Falstaff," ii, <a href="#Page_375">375</a>;</span><br /> -<span style="margin-left: 1em;">to tragedy of "Othello," i, 283; to "King Lear," i, 296;</span><br /> -<span style="margin-left: 1em;">to "Romeo and Juliet," i, 319; iv, 342; to "Richard III," iv, 341;</span><br /> -<span style="margin-left: 1em;">the clowns of, i, 320; the fool in "King Lear," ii, <a href="#Page_375">375</a>;</span><br /> -<span style="margin-left: 1em;">quotations from "Richard II," ii, <a href="#Page_141">141</a>, <a href="#Page_159">159</a>;</span><br /> -<span style="margin-left: 1em;">from "Romeo and Juliet," ii, <a href="#Page_153">153</a>; from "Henry IV," ii, <a href="#Page_158">158</a>;</span><br /> -<span style="margin-left: 1em;">from "Henry VIII," ii, <a href="#Page_159">159</a>, <a href="#Page_160">160</a>; from "Julius Caesar," ii, <a href="#Page_260">260</a>;</span><br /> -<span style="margin-left: 1em;">from "Macbeth," ii, <a href="#Page_160">160</a>; from "Anthony and Cleopatra," ii, <a href="#Page_161">161</a>;</span><br /> -<span style="margin-left: 1em;">mythical material of dramas, i, 351 n.;</span><br /> -<span style="margin-left: 1em;">his historical dramas, i, 374;</span><br /> -<span style="margin-left: 1em;">his use of metaphor, ii, <a href="#Page_144">144</a>, <a href="#Page_156">156</a>;</span><br /> -<span style="margin-left: 1em;">the fidelity of Kent in "King Lear," ii, <a href="#Page_346">346</a>;</span><br /> -<span style="margin-left: 1em;">self-consistency of characters, ii, <a href="#Page_356">356</a>-<a href="#Page_358">358</a>; iv, 340;</span><br /> -<span style="margin-left: 1em;">intelligence of vulgar characters, ii, <a href="#Page_366">366</a>, <a href="#Page_375">375</a>;</span><br /> -<span style="margin-left: 1em;">subsidiary interest of part of material in dramas, iv, 260;</span><br /> -<span style="margin-left: 1em;">vitality of characterization, iv, 274,</span><br /> -<span style="margin-left: 1em;">and in particular, iv, 337; superiority</span><br /> -<span style="margin-left: 1em;">in modern comedy, iv, 348.</span><br /> -Sophocles, reference to the "Philoctetes," i, 275, 301; iv, 306;<br /> -<span style="margin-left: 1em;">to "Œdipus Rex," i, 276; iv, 319;</span><br /> -<span style="margin-left: 1em;">to the "Antigone," i, 293; ii, <a href="#Page_215">215</a>; iv, 318;</span><br /> -<span style="margin-left: 1em;">to "Œdipus Coloneus," ii, <a href="#Page_222">222</a>; iv, 319;</span><br /> -<span style="margin-left: 1em;">to the "Electra," iv, 318; the choruses of, i, 371;</span><br /> -<span style="margin-left: 1em;">no unity of place in the "Ajax," iv, 257;</span><br /> -<span style="margin-left: 1em;">quotation from "Œdipus Coloneus," ii, <a href="#Page_222">222</a>;</span><br /> -<span style="margin-left: 1em;">treatment of love in the "Antigone," ii, <a href="#Page_339">339</a>;</span><br /> -<span style="margin-left: 1em;">praise of the "Antigone" as work of art, iv, 324;</span><br /> -<span style="margin-left: 1em;">the "Œdipus Coloneus" as a drama of reconciliation, iv, 325.</span><br /> -Style, significant of vitality, iii, 9;<br /> -<span style="margin-left: 1em;">the beautiful style, iii, 10;</span><br /> -<span style="margin-left: 1em;">the great style, ii, <a href="#Page_400">400</a>;</span><br /> -<span style="margin-left: 1em;">educated style of Roman poetry, iii, 11.</span><br /> -<br /> -Tasso, his "Jerusalem Liberated," iv, 141.<br /> -<span style="margin-left: 1em;">See also iv, 132, 149, 159, 189,</span><br /> -<span style="margin-left: 1em;">and for Goethe's play under head of Goethe.</span><br /> -Thorwaldsen, the "Mercury" of, i, 270.<br /> -Tieck, novels of, ii, <a href="#Page_167">167</a>; and for both Tieck<br /> -<span style="margin-left: 1em;">and Solger under "Irony."</span><br /> -<br /> -Van-Dyck, the portraiture of described, iii, 292.<br /> -Velasquez, reference to Turner and Velasquez, i, 336 n.<br /> -<span style="margin-left: 1em;">See also iii, 337 n.</span><br /> -Vergil, artifice of V. and Horace, iv, 69;<br /> -<span style="margin-left: 1em;">eclogues of compared with idylls of Theocritus, iv, 170.</span><br /> -<span style="margin-left: 1em;">The "Æneid" as a national Epos, iv, 179.</span><br /> -Versification, rhythmical of ancients discussed, iv, 81-84.<br /> -<span style="margin-left: 1em;">That of rhyme compared, iv, 84-98.</span><br /> -Vishnu, the Conserver of Life in Hindoo theosophy, iii, 52;<br /> -<span style="margin-left: 1em;">second Deity in triune Trimûrtis with Brahman and Sivas, ii, <a href="#Page_59">59</a>.</span><br /> -Voltaire, contrasted with Shakespeare, i, 313;<br /> -<span style="margin-left: 1em;">his "Henriad," iv, 132; his "Tancred" and "Mahomet," iv, 290.</span><br /> -Watts, George, R.A., flesh colour of, i, 337 n.;<br /> -<span style="margin-left: 1em;">relation to symbolism, ii, <a href="#Page_27">27</a> n.</span><br /> -Weber, his "Oberon" and "Freischütz," i, 216.<br /> -Winckelmann, on Greek sculpture,<br /> -<span style="margin-left: 1em;">iii, 138, 150-155, 172-176, 182, 184;</span><br /> -<span style="margin-left: 1em;">on Greek coins, iii, 181.</span><br /> -Zend-Avesta, light-doctrine of, ii, <a href="#Page_37">37</a>-<a href="#Page_44">44</a>; cultus of, ii, <a href="#Page_44">44</a>.<br /> -</p> - - - - - - - - - - - -<pre> - - - - - -End of the Project Gutenberg EBook of The Philosophy of Fine Art, volume 2 -(of 4), by G. 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