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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..59bb3f7 --- /dev/null +++ b/README.md @@ -0,0 +1,2 @@ +Project Gutenberg (https://www.gutenberg.org) public repository for +eBook #55731 (https://www.gutenberg.org/ebooks/55731) diff --git a/old/55731-0.txt b/old/55731-0.txt deleted file mode 100644 index 4601cf6..0000000 --- a/old/55731-0.txt +++ /dev/null @@ -1,14538 +0,0 @@ -The Project Gutenberg EBook of The Philosophy of Fine Art, volume 4 (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 4 (of 4) - Hegel's Aesthetik - -Author: G. W. F. Hegel - -Translator: Francis Plumptre Beresford Osmaston - -Release Date: October 11, 2017 [EBook #55731] - -Language: English - -Character set encoding: UTF-8 - -*** START OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK PHILOSOPHY OF FINE ART, VOL 4 *** - - - - -Produced by Laura Natal Rodriguez & 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. IV - -LONDON - -G. BELL AND SONS, LTD. - - -1920 - - - - - CONTENTS OF VOL. IV - - SUBSECTION III - - THE ROMANTIC ARTS_--continued_ - - CHAPTER III - - POETRY - - - Introduction - - [Summary and contrast between poetry and the other - particular arts. Its relation to the other two romantic - arts. Absence of all external sensuous presence. - Poetry appeals to imaginative vision. Not so direct as - sense-perception. Advantage over painting through its - ability to display facts in their historical succession or - natural process. Far profounder and more extended embrace - of world of idea than in music; due to its greater power - of definition in speech and its use of tone merely as a - subordinate instrument. The content of poetry is the ideal - envisagement of imaginative content itself. Everything made - intelligible by language may form part of content, subject - to the condition that it is poetical. Analysis of what - this condition implies. The imagination of artist must be - Contributive; distinction from mere prose consciousness and - thinking. In its entire independence of the material of - sense it may be defined as the universal art. The material - is the imagination, and as such conjoint with all the arts. - It is, however, not the only art open to philosophical - review on this ground. It marks, however, the commencement - of the disintegration of Art, its bridge of passage to the - notion of religion and philosophical thought] - - Subdivision of subject-matter - - I. Poetical composition as distinguished from that of Prose - - 1. The poetical and prosaic composition - - (_a_) The world of natural or prosaic fact relatively - excluded. Primarily what it deals with is the infinite - domain of Spirit and the energies of its life - - (_b_) Distinction between poetical and prosaic conception 21 - - [(_α_) Poetical anterior to the prosaic form of artistic - speech. It is the original imaginative grasp of truth. Dates - from first effort of man at self-expression. Endeavours to - make that expression of a higher virtue than mere prose - - (_β_) The kind of prose life from which poetry is separate - postulates a different kind of conception and speech. The - finite categories of the understanding applicable to the - former. The ideal rationale of fact is aimed at by poetry. - Its affinity with and distinction from pure thought - - (_γ_) Difference between the relation of poetic conception - to prosaic in early times and more modern, where the prosaic - form of life has become stereotyped in a definite system] - - (_c_) The nature of the differentiation of poetical activity - in different ages and nations - - [(_α_) It has no particular epoch of unique celebration. It - embraces the collective Spirit of man. It is conditioned by - the outlook of various nations and epochs - - (_β_) Some of these have closer affinity with its essential - spirit, _e.g.,_ the Oriental in comparison with the Western - nations, if we exclude Greece - - (_γ_) Modern interest in Hellenic and certain portions of - Oriental poetry] - - 2. The Art-product of poetry and prose - - (_a_) The artistic composition of poetry generally - - [(_α_) It must possess intrinsic unity. The action must be - conceived as that of particular men or women. There must be - vital coalescence of characters, events, and actions. Unity - in the nature of a process and a differentiation of parts - which coalesce therein - - (_β_) Nature of this organic differentiation and synthesis. - Tendency of Art to particularization. Delight in detail. - Nature of its treatment of such detail. Result, a secure - self-subsistency - - (_γ_) Substantive unity preserved. Display of particular - features, despite all opposition, must combine in a union - of mysterious accord. The unity is essential and organic. It - is the soul of the entirety. Parallel in musical trichord. - Varied type of artistic form in the Epic, the Drama, and the - Lyric] - - (_b_) History and oratory compared with the poetical product - - [(_α_) The arts of history and oratory come into closest - affinity with poetical composition. History implies great - ends, cannot rest content with mere chronicles. Herodotus, - Thucydides, Xenophon, and Tacitus. Products of the art of - language, but not entirely free art. The nature of the - historical content prohibits this. The prosaic element in - the historical age and the historical treatment defined - - (_β_) Oratory appears to be closer to the freedom of Art. - The orator appeals to the whole man. It is directed to - the enunciation of principles. It is none the less almost - wholly relative to the rule of practical utility. Religious - oratory. It is in the service of a collateral purpose] - - (_c_) The free poetical work of Art - - [(_α_) The attitude of the poet in his work, to contingent - and insignificant fact and local conditions, actions, - events, etc. - - (_β_) The end of Art not practical as in oratory. Nor is it - to edification. _Poems d'occasion_ - - (_γ_) It is an essentially infinite (self-rounded) organism. - Permeated with a principle of unity. Independent of any one - particular condition of Life or Nature] - - 3. The creative impulse of the Poet - - [(_a_) Less under restriction in respect to his medium. The - problem proposed in one respect more easy, and in another - more difficult than that of the other arts. Technical - control of the medium which is easier makes the demand for - imaginative penetration the greater - - (_b_) Being operative in the realm of imaginative idea - itself poetry has to guard against encroaching upon - the spheres of religion, philosophy, and the ordinary - consciousness as such 53 - - (_c_) To a greater extent than in the other arts the poet - has transfused the external mode of envisagement, which - he creates, with the vitality of soul-life. Mohammedan - poetry. The creative energy must be absolutely free from all - restrictions imposed by the material handled] - - II. The Expression of Poetry - - 1. The poetical Conception - - (_a_) Poetical conception in its origins - [In its origin not consciously distinct from the prosaic - or scientific consciousness. In general terms the poetic - imagination is plastic. Illustration of difference between - the concrete poetical image and the abstract concept] - - (_b_) Distinction between poetic mode of conception and that - of prose. Language of poetical metaphor and imagery less - accurate than the definition of prosaic fact - - (_c_) Exceptional difficulties which confront the poet of - a world where the distinction between ordinary prose life - and imagination is emphasised. Artificial appearance of his - creations. Difficulty of retaining spontaneous simplicity - and freshness - - 2. Verbal Expression - - (_a_) Poetical speech generally - - [Another mode of speech necessitated by the fact that the - world of poetry and art in general should not be identical - with that of ordinary life, or that of science and religion] - 65 - - (_b_) The means by which this is realized - - [(_α_) Particular words and expressions only proper to - poetry. Entitled to borrow from language forms obsolete in - ordinary speech. The invention exercised in creating novel - modes of utterance - - (_β_) The relative order of words admits of change; how the - licence in this respect may be abused and degenerate into - rhetoric and declamation - - (_γ_) The periods of poetical construction composed in - accordance with the ideality of the soul-experience - embodied] - - (_c_) Distinctions in the use of these means - - [(_α_) Poetry in the age where poetry is the one revealer of - spiritual truth. Force of creative power and simplicity of - diction most obvious features. Creation of a poetic diction - by Dante - - (_β_) Distinction from above in an age where prose diction - already elaborated. Expression of poetry becomes more - elaborate and eventually more self-conscious and rhetorical. - The poetry of Rome. The satire. Spanish poetry - - (_γ_) The nature of genuine poetical expression. Spontaneity - above all essential] - - 3. Versification. - - [Only a superficial view would banish it. It is implied in - the demand that the medium should be elaborated by Art and - that the realm entered should be other than every-day life] - - (_a_) Rhythmical Versification (that is, without rhyme) - - [(_α_) Made by time-duration and the movement. Starting - point in the natural length and shortness of syllables. - The distinctions of the sound of words in consonants and - vowels contribute the basis of this. Description and - illustration. Poetry regulates the accidental interchange - of various syllables and words. Time-duration. Nature of - dactyl, anapaest, etc. It further regulates the particular - time-relations in a series of verse-lines. The iambic metre, - etc. Problem of time-beats in the metre of the ancients. No - necessity as in music for abstract time-beat - - (_β_) The accent and caesura. Every time-relation has its - particular accent. Particular feet ought not with abstract - precision to be identical with beginning and conclusion of - single words. The caesura checks the monotony of measure. - Further independent verbal accent. Fundamental influence - on the measure of the poetical idea. Also a definite type - of content corresponds with the entire character of a - particular verse-measure. The use of hexameter, elegiacs, - and iambics in this respect - - (_γ_) Rhythmical versification embraces the actual musical - sound of syllables and words. The stem-syllable in the Greek - and Latin languages. Aspects of the German language in this - respect. In modern languages the element of rhythm less room - for display. This in itself necessitates the alternative of - rhyme as a resistant against the too exclusive assertion of - ideal content] - - (_b_) Rhyme - - [(_α_) Rhyme a necessary feature of romantic poetry. Closer - approximation to music. Reaction against the stringent - character of Roman poetry. Source of rhyme in Germanic - languages - - (_β_) Difference between two systems. Rhythmical - versification supreme in Hellenic poetry. Most important - change effected that of the validity of the national - quantity in the older system. This replaced by the intrinsic - meaning of syllables and words. French and Italian poetry an - extreme example of the collapse of the former system. The - necessity of rhyme and its character analysed - - (_γ_) The types of modern romantic poetry. Its alliteration, - assonance, and ordinary rhyme. Scandinavian poetry. Not - necessary for assonant words to come only at conclusion of - line. Rhyme is the fulfilment of alliteration and assonance. - Pre-eminently the form of lyric poetry. Examples] - - (_c_) The union of rhythm and rhyme - - [(_α_) Attempt made in modern times to return to the - natural quantity of syllables. Not generally successful. - Overwhelming importance in modern verse of intelligible - significance and the accent thus asserted - - (_β_) Not possible to retain the plastic consistency of - the metrical medium as secured by classical poetry. Modern - languages do not possess the stable quantitative basis - - (_γ_) The combination equivalent to the absorption by modern - versification of the older system. The significance of - the identical repetition of the same time-measure. Modern - imitation of sapphics and alcaics based on a contradiction] - - III. The Several Generic Types of Poetry - - Introduction and Division of Subject - - A. Epic Poetry - - 1. General character of Epic poetry - - (_a_) Epigrams and Gnomes - - (_b_) Philosophical didactic poems, Cosmogonies and - Theogonies - - (_c_) The genuine Epopaea - - [(_α_) The saga, the bible of a folk. Not every national - bible can rank as Epos. Greeks possess no ancient religious - books resembling Hindoo literature - - (_β_) Not necessarily composed in the heroic time itself. - Homer. Views expressed which belong to earlier times - - (_γ_) Position of the epic poet. His work a free creation. - He must feel at home in the world he depicts. Objective - independence of composition. The work of one artist] - - 2. Particular Characteristics of true Epos - - (_a_) The general World-condition of the Epos - - [(_α_) A positive social state conjoined to primitive - simplicity. Intuitive sense of right the support of moral - order. Vital human association with nature and particular - objects possessed. Heroic condition, _e.g.,_ that of free - individuality. Examples. Expresses entire horizon of - national condition - - (_β_) The mirror must be of one particular people. The - Hellenic spirit in Homer. A foreign locale not necessarily - prejudicial to artistic effect. The remoteness to present - ideas of the "Niebelungen Lied" - - (_γ_) Main event of poem must be a deliberately conceived - purpose. It must imply collisions. The belligerent condition - most pertinent. The Odyssey not only an exception. Courage - the fundamental interest. Justification of such attitude] - - (_b_) The individual Epic action - - [(_α_) Must be one of individual vitality. Must appropriate - form of an event, and the happening of such. Analysis. - Problem of an absolute Epos. Mere biography not most - complete subject-matter. "The Divine Comedy" only partially - an exception - - (_β_) Question of human personality implied. Epic character - must be a totality. Achilles, the Cid, and other heroes, - discussed. Circumstances as active as persons. Illustrations - - (_γ_) The form under which the intrinsic significance of - the occurrence proclaims itself, whether as ideal Necessity - or disclosed spiritual forces. Destiny. What it defines. - General tone of sadness in the Epic. Different modes of - appearance. Poems of Ossian, and others. Loss of original - freshness in Latin poetry. Virgil] - - (_c_) The Epos as unified totality - - [(_α_) The unity of the assumed general background and - the individuals therein. Humanity displayed in its entire - collective relation of all interests and occupations. The - individual event. The commencement of the Iliad and Odyssey - - (_β_) The difference between the epic mode of disclosure and - that of the Lyric or drama. Greater extension of range. In - the epic work character may give way to external condition. - Objective nature of its exposition. Motivisation of drama - and the Epic entirely different. Examples from Homer and - modern poetry - - (_γ_) Nature of unity of Epos. Though not of most importance - essential to artistic result. Insistence upon fundamental - unity of the Homeric poems. Epic unity within a national - whole. Distinction from dramatic action. The Idyll. The - novel as the Epopaea of modern society] - - 3. The historical development of epic Poetry - - (_a_) The Oriental Epos - - [(_α_) Epos of Hindoos and Persians. The sense of the unity - of the One Substance - - (_β_) Contrast between Hindoo and Persian Epos. The Ramajana - and Maha-Bharata - - (_γ_) Hebrew Epic poetry] - - (_b_) Epic poetry of Greece and Rome - - [(_α_) Essential unity of Iliad and Odyssey. The _ne plus - ultra_ of attainment. The cyclic poets - - (_β_) Roman Epos cannot compare in quality with the Greek - prototype] - - (_c_) The Romantic Epos. - - [The poems of Ossian. The Edda. National character of epic - poems of Middle Ages. "The Cid." The peculiar nature of - Dante's "Divine Comedy." The poems relating to Charlemagne, - King Arthur, etc. The revolt against Chivalry in Ariosto and - Cervantes. The "Lysiad" of Camoens. Milton's "Paradise Lost" - and Klopstock's "Messias"] - - B. Lyric Poetry - - 1. General character of lyric poetry - - (_a_) The content of lyric poetry - - [(_α_) Not merely translation of content from immediacy of - experience. Creation of object purified from the incidental - mood. Deliverance thus effected. Self-expression not the - development of objective action. We have the universal as - such. The entire sphere of human belief, religion, art, and - to some extent scientific thought comprised as they fall - into a personal view of the world - - (_β_) Aspect of particularity. The Eumenides chorus in the - "Cranes" of Ibicus. The Elegy and Epistle - - (_γ_) Emphasis throughout on personal feeling. Parallel with - genre painting. Contingency of content. Growth of whole in - temperament] - - (_b_) The form of the same - - [(_α_) Unity different from that of Epos. Mysterious - intimacy of personal mood. Approximates to Epos in heroic - songs, ballads, and romances. The Greek Anthology - - (_β_) _Poems d'occasion._ Personal aspect. Pindaric Odes. - Goethe. Individual soul supplied focus of unity rather than - positive reality - - (_γ_) Point of departure an external occurrence either in - personal experience or that of others. Element of narrative - as in songs of Anacreon] - - (_c_) The external culture condition of the Lyric. - - [(_α_) Different from that of Epic. Not limited to one - particular epoch, but exceptionally displayed in modern - times. Folk-songs and the lyric poem - - (_β_) Possesses a power of free expansion into all kinds of - subject-matter, a free recognition of imaginative conception - no less than artistic activity - - (_γ_) The philosophical lyric poem. A false and a genuine - style compared. Schiller's poetry] - - 2. Particular aspects of the Lyric - - (a) The lyric poet - - [(_α_) The poet himself supplies the principle of - combination. He is the focus of unity 214 - - (_β_) Spontaneity of result. Sings because he cannot help - it. His object himself. Self-respect. Pindar and Klopstock - - - (_γ_) Creative in dealing with personal experience. Goethe a - fine example] - - (_b_) The lyric work of art - - [(_α_) The unity of the Lyric. Springs from memory or vivid - association of poet. The formal unity of self-conscious - life. Mood must be defined in its concreteness, not tend too - much to generalization - - (_β_) Nature of the progressive disclosure of content. The - principle of the Lyric is assimilation. Poems limited to - local description. Mainly a definition of emotional forces - made vital in objects as seen by the "inward eye." Episodes - permissible. Passionate intensity in its freedom - - (_γ_) External form of the Lyric. Variety of metres. Varied - use of caesura. Strophes which admit of much alternation, - both as to length of line, and their rhythmic structure. - Musical sound of words and syllables. Free use of assonance, - alliteration and rhyme, especially the diversified use of - last-mentioned. Association with musical accompaniment] - - (_c_) Types of the genuine Lyric - - [(_α_) Hymns, dithyrambs, paeans and psalms. Personal - religious emotion. Greek treatment of chorus. Psalms of Old - Testament - - (_β_) Personal life of poet the subject-matter. Not so much - the subject as the enthusiasm or personal note. Pindaric - Odes. Horace. Klopstock - - (_γ_) The song as such. A field of blossom ever starting - anew. The Oriental and Western type. Anacreon. Protestant - hymns. Sonnet, elegy, epistle, etc. Dithyrambic emotion of - Schiller] 230 - - 3. Historical evolution of the Lyric - - (_a_) Oriental lyrical poetry - - [Vital absorption in the object. Objective character as - compared with pure romantic. Hymns of exaltation. Metaphor, - image, and simile particularly favoured. Present in Chinese, - Hindoo, Hebrew, Arab and Persian poetry] - - (_b_) The Lyric of the Greeks and Romans - - [General character that of classic individuality. - Image and metaphor not so largely used. Emphasizes mainly on - the sensuous verbal quantity in the rhythm of its movement. - The dance not unfrequently attached. Point of departure - hymns. Elegiac measure. The lyric of the chorus. Pindar. - Roman lyric less original] - - (_c_) Romantic Lyric. - - [In certain nations epic material treated as lyrical - narrative. Lyric composition of modern nations still pagan. - In the Christian Middle Ages. That based on the principle of - Protestantism. Klopstock and his influence] - - C. Dramatic Poetry - - 1. The Drama as a poetic work of art - - (_a_) The principle of dramatic poetry - - [(_α_) Depends on conditions of collision, human passion, - and characters. Leads to action and resolution - - (_β_) Mediation between epic and lyric poetry. Has to bring - before vision action or event, but it is self-conscious - personality which is the vital force. Dramatic action must - submit to a process of development. Has to exhibit not so - much lyrical emotion as situation. Action the executed - will recognized as such in its ultimate purpose. The - external world only borrowed in so far as it is bound to - this purpose. More concentrated than the Epic. Action so - treated that it inevitably meets with opposition. Nature of - the divine forces operative. The Drama propounds the vital - energy of a principle of Necessity - - (_γ_) The nature of the demand on the dramatic poet in - respect to the divine energy. The drama is the resolution - of the one-sided aspect of these powers, the self-stability - whereof is disclosed in dramatic character] - - (_b_) Dramatic Composition - - [(_α_) The unity as contrasted with the Epos and the Lyric. - Unity of place, time, and action. First no support to from - Aristotle. Nature of demand upon the imagination relative - to fact of direct vision. Unity of action alone invariable. - Romantic drama less consistent than classical. Examples from - Shakespeare - - (_β_) Mode of _dénouement._ Embrace of material in Epos - more extensive. Mean between that and lyrical poetry. - True dramatic progression, a continuous movement onwards - to catastrophe. Possesses a beginning, middle and end. - Aristotle. Significance of acts and their number. In - English, French, and German drama generally five - - (_γ_) Nature of means, _e.g.,_ dramatic diction, etc. - Realistic mode of expression as contrasted with one - conventional to the theatre. Must neither be too formal nor - too unpolished or colloquial. Choral interlude, monologue, - and dialogue. Verse-measure mainly iambic] - - (_c_) The relation of the dramatic composition to the Public - - [(_α_) Distinct Public to cater for and under obligation to - it. Fashion of German writers to scorn the Public. Mistaken - view. How far possible to reproduce foreign or ancient drama - - (_β_) Dramatis personae must be vital not merely personified - interests. Real emphasis on the collision involved. Goethe's - "Iphigeneia" - - (_γ_) Attitude of poet himself. The impression of the - whole as the product of one original creative force most - important. Necessity that the dramatic poet master the - eternal and essential foundation of human character and - action. Worst case where he seeks to flatter a popular - prejudice. Reference to contemporary event. Aristophanes. - Didactic matter only admissible in so far as it is no bar to - the freedom of the entire artistic product] - - 2. The external Technique of a dramatic Composition - - (_a_) The reading or recitation of a dramatic work - - [(_α_) True sensuous medium of drama the human voice. Modern - plays often impracticable in the theatre. Contrast of Greek - drama in this respect - - (_β_) Plays written for perusal only. Theatrical - reproduction a real test of dramatic vitality. Question - whether dramatic works should be printed - - (_γ_) Perusal no sufficient test of the acting possibilities - of a drama. Recitation subject to the serious restriction - that it is the expression of one voice only] - - (_b_) The art of the Actor - - [(_α_) Among the Greeks acting affiliated to sculpture. - Ancients added music to declamation. Means of interpretation - in motion of the body. The dance. Plastic character of Greek - performance - - (_β_) Speech used solely as spiritual expression in modern - acting. Coalescence of actor's personality with his rôle. - Facial expression. Increase particularisation in modern - character. Illustrations. Increase of difficulties. Modern - actor an artist] - - (_c_) The theatrical art which is more independent of Poetry - - - [(_α_) Plays written for the display of the particular - talent of actors. The Italian _commedia dell' arte._ French - attitude to audience - - (_β_) Modern opera. Luxurious display of scenic accessories. - Schiller's "Maid of Orleans." Mozart's "Magic Flute" - - (_γ_) The Ballet. The proper subordination of the dance] - - 3. Types of dramatic poetry and the chief phases of their - historical development - - (_a_) The principle of Tragedy, Comedy, and the Play - - [(_α_) The principle as associated with tragedy in its - essential and primitive form. The content of tragic action - supplied by spiritual forces which carry with them their - own justification, _e.g._, love of husband, wife, parents, - or children, patriotism, social life, etc. The substance - in which the greatness and stability of the tragic hero - consists. Theme of primitive tragedy generally the godlike - in its mundane character. Forces realized as the determinate - aim of human pathos. A collision in which both aspects are - justified from one point of view. Tragic resolution of - division. Meaning of Aristotle's dictum that tragedy excites - and purifies fear and pity. Sense of reconciliation 295 - - (_β_) In Tragedy what is eternally substantive is vindicated - under a mode of reconciliation. In Comedy the purely - personal experience retains the mastery throughout. Nature - of social basis of comedy. The comic. The conception of it - in Molière and Aristophanes. Requires a resolution even more - strongly than tragedy - - (_γ_) The Satyric drama. Plautus. The modern dramatic play. - Illustrations from classical drama. Boundary lines fluctuate - more than in the case of genuine tragedy and comedy. - Tendency to pass from poetic form altogether. Theatrical - pieces exhibited for mere display of histrionic talent or - psychological analysis, or as a mere social relaxation] - - (_b_) The difference between ancient and modern Drama - - [(_α_) No genuine Oriental dramatic art. Principle of - individual freedom. Origins among Hindoos and Chinese - - (_β_) True beginning among the Hellenes. The universal and - substantive content of the end, which individuals seek to - achieve. Exceptional plot and intrigue and varied display of - individual character not emphasized - - (_γ_) In modern drama it is rather the destiny of some - particular character under exceptional circumstances which - forms the subject-matter. Interest directed not so much - to ethical vindication and destiny as to the isolation of - the individual and his conditions. Crime as a motive not - excluded. Formal greatness of character demanded. Variety - of characterization, and maze of plot and intrigue. In - tragedy further the paramount presence of a more exalted - order of the world,--whether conceived as Providence or - Fatality,--accepted] - - (_c_) The concrete development of dramatic poetry and its - types - - [(_α_) Greek drama. Roman drama an attenuated reflection. - Survey limited to Æschylus, Sophocles, and Aristophanes. - Background of ancient tragedy the heroic condition. Analysis - of modes under which ethical content of human action - asserted. The unsevered consciousness of the godlike and the - combating human action, presented under the form of chorus - and heroic figures. Significance of chorus. Opposition - between social obligation and private sense of duty. - Antigone. Modern conception of guilt and innocence no place - in Greek tragedy in strict sense. Final end reconciliation - of forces of human action. Such a _dénouement_ not merely - an ethical issue. Contrast between such and the Justice of - the Greek Epos. Illustrations. Antigone. Œdipus. Orestes. - Conception of old classical Comedy. The laughter of the - Olympian gods made present in man. Aristophanes] - - (_β_) Modern dramatic art - - [(i) The ends which ought to come into the process of the - action as the content of the characters. Borrowed from the - concrete world of religious and social life. Not however, - the particular ethical forces as of individuals which assert - them, _e.g._, Christ, the saints, kings, vassals, and - members of ruling families. Features of the private life - accepted not within scope of ancient drama. Personal love, - honour, etc. make an exclusive appeal. Faust. Wallenstein. - Generally it is the inner experience of soul-life which - demands satisfaction. Comparison of problem of Hamlet with - that of the Choephorae. - - (ii) Nature of characters and collisions. Conflict - abides essentially in the character itself. Abstract - characterization of French and Italian poetry, also Spanish. - In contrast to this that of the English, and above all - Shakespeare. Goethe and Schiller. Vacillation of character. - "King Lear." - - (iii) Nature of tragic issue. Justice of more abstract - nature than in ancient tragedy. The issue as the effect - of misfortune. "Romeo and Juliet," a kind of unhappy - blessedness in misfortune. Social plays the link between - tragedy and comedy. As a rule the triumph of ordinary - morality celebrated. Modern comedy. Question whether folly - is ridiculous only to others, or to the comic character - also. The second type mainly that of Aristophanes, the first - that of Molière. Invention of the intrigue or intricate - plot. Comparison of Shakespeare's comedy with that of - Aristophanes] - - Final Summary and Conclusion - - - - - -THIRD PART - -THE SYSTEM OF THE PARTICULAR ARTS - -SUBSECTION III - -THE ROMANTIC ARTS - -(CONTINUED) - - - - -THE - -PHILOSOPHY OF FINE ART - - - - -CHAPTER III - -POETRY - -INTRODUCTION - - -I - -The temple of classical architecture demands a god, who resides -therein. Sculpture exhibits the same in plastic beauty, and confers -forms on the material it employs for this purpose, which do not in -their nature remain external to what is spiritual, but are the form -itself immanent in the defined content. The corporeality, however, and -sensuousness, no less than the ideal universality of the sculptured -figure, are opposed on the one hand to subjective ideality, and in part -to the particularity of the individual, in whose element the content -of the religious, no less than also the worldly life, must secure -reality by virtue of a novel form of art. This mode of expression, -which is of subjective import, and at the same time particularized in -its characterization, the art of painting itself contributes under -the principle of the plastic arts. In other words it subordinates the -realistic expression of form to the more ideal presentment of colour, -and makes the expression of the ideality of soul the central point[1] -of the presentment. The universal sphere, however, in which these -arts are motived, the one in the ideal of symbolism, the other in the -plastic ideal, the third in the romantic type, is the sensuous or -_external_ form of spirit and natural objects. - -The spiritual content possesses, however, as essentially appertinent -to the ideality of consciousness, a determinate existence which is for -this ideality at the same time foreign to the medium itself of the -external appearance and envisagement presented to it by material form. -From this foreign element it is further necessary that it removes its -conceptions in order to place them in a realm which, in respect to -material no less than the mode of expression, is independently of an -ideal or subjective character. This was the forward step which we saw -_music_ make, in so far as it embodied pure ideality and subjective -emotion in the configurations of essentially resonant sound rather than -in visible forms. It, however, passed by this very means into a further -extreme, that is, an ideal mode of concentration not fully explicit, -whose content in musical tones itself only found symbolic expression. -For tone taken by itself is without content, and has its definition in -the numerical relations, so that what is qualitative in the spiritual -content no doubt generally corresponds to these quantitative relations -which are expressed in essential differences, oppositions, and -mediation, but in its qualitative determinacy is not entirely able to -receive its impression in musical tone. If this aspect is not wholly to -fail the art of music must, by reason of its onesidedness, summon to -its assistance the more definite articulation of language, and requires -for its more secure attachment to particularity and the characteristic -expression of the content a text, without which it is unable to -complete fully the ideality which is poured forth by means of musical -tones. - -By virtue of this expression of ideas and emotions, the abstract -ideality of music receives a clearer and more secure exposition. At -the same time what we have here unfolded by its means is, to a certain -extent, not the point of view of idea and the artistic mode adapted -to its expression, but merely the emotional life as it accompanies -the same; also in part we find that here, too, music entirely divests -itself of fusion with the verbal text in order to develop its own -movement without restraint in the world of tone simply. For this reason -the realm of idea, which is unable to remain under I such a more purely -abstract mode of ideal intensity, and seeks a configuration in a world -which embraces its one homogeneous and concrete reality, breaks away on -its part likewise from the bond of music, and in the exclusive art of -poetry discovers the adequate realization it demands. - -_Poetry,_ in other words the art of human speech, is the _third_ -or final step, the _totality_, which unites and embraces in a yet -higher sphere, in the sphere of the very life of Spirit itself[2], -the two extremes of the plastic arts and music. For on the one hand -poetry contains just as music does the principle which apprehends an -ideal content in its ideality, the principle which in architecture, -sculpture, and painting is lost, or at most incompletely asserted. -And on the other hand it expatiates itself, under the modes of ideal -conception, intuition, and feeling simply, in an objective world, -which does not entirely destroy the defined forms of sculpture and -painting, and is capable of unfolding all the conditions of an event, a -succession or interchange of emotional states, passions, conceptions, -and the exclusive course of human action with more completeness than -any other art. - -2. But in a still more intimate way the art of poetry constitutes a -third or final term in its relation to painting and music regarded as -the _romantic_ arts. - -(_a_) One reason of this is that its principle is that generally of -an _intelligence_ which has nothing further to do with gross matter -as such, seeking, as is the case with architecture, to transform it -through symbolism to an environment related analogically to spiritual -life, or as in the case of sculpture in order to implant upon material -substance the natural form congenial to such life under the spatial -condition of its expression. What the end is now is to express -immediately for mind the manifestations of Spirit with all its ideas -of imagination and art, without setting forth their external and -visible bodily presence. And a further reason consists in this, that -poetry is able to grasp in the form of ideality itself and with a far -greater wealth than is possible for music or painting, not merely the -innermost actuality of conscious life, but also what is particular and -individual in external existence, and equally able to contrast such -facts in the complete diversity of their specific traits and accidental -peculiarities. - -(_b_) The art of poetry is, however, as totality, also again, from -another point of view, essentially to be distinguished from the -above-mentioned arts whose fundamental qualities it thus in a measure -combines. - -(_α_) In this respect, if we compare it with painting, the latter art -is throughout at an advantage, where it is of importance to bring -before our senses a content under the condition of its external -appearance. It is true no doubt that poetry is able by various means -to envisualize objects precisely in the way that for the imagination -generally the principle of objectification is made real to our -intuitive sense. But in so far as conceptive power, in the element -of which poetry pre-eminently moves, is of a spiritual nature and -implies the presence of the universality of thought, it is incapable -of attaining the definition of sensuous perception. On the other hand, -the varied traits which poetry brings together, in order to make the -concrete form of a content visible, do not fall as with painting -into one and the same totality, which is set before us wholly as a -simultaneous appearance of all its details, but they break apart, -inasmuch as the imagination can only give us the complexity it contains -under the form of succession. This is, however, only a defect from the -sensuous point of view, a defect which reason is able in its own way -to rectify. That is to say, inasmuch as human speech, even in the case -where it endeavours to summon before our sight a concrete object, is -not concerned with the sensuous apprehension of an immediate external -object, but always with the ideal relation, the mental intuition, for -this reason the particular characteristics, albeit they are set before -us in a series, are nevertheless fused together in the element of one -essentially homogeneous spirit, which is able to qualify the effect of -succession, to bring the varied array into one picture, and to secure -and enjoy this picture in imaginative contemplation. Moreover, this -deficiency of sensuous realization and objective definition, when -we contrast poetry with painting, brings as a contrary result the -possibility of an incalculable superfluity of material. For inasmuch -as the poetic art in painting restricts itself to a determinate -space, and even more to a distinct moment in a situation or action, -for this reason it is prevented from portraying an object in its -entire ideal profundity no less than in the extension of its temporal -development. But what is true is throughout concrete in the sense that -it comprises within its embrace a unity of essential determinations. -In its phenomenal appearance, however, these are not merely unfolded -as a co-existent spatial phenomenon but in a temporal series as a -history, whose course painting is only able to present in a relatively -inadequate manner. Even in the case of every stalk, every tree, each -has in this sense its history, a change, sequence, and exclusive whole -of varied conditions. And this is even more true of the sphere of -spirit, which can only be exhaustively portrayed as veritable spirit -in phenomenal guise when it is set before our imagination as such a -process. - -(_β_) We have already seen that poetry possesses for its external -medium that of tone in common with _music_. The wholly external, or, -as we might say in the false sense of the expression, the objective -material in the progressive series of the particular arts finally -vanishes in the subjective medium of sound, which is divested of all -visibility, and which suffers an ideal content only to be apprehended -by a conscious state independent of sight.[3] For music, however, the -configuration of musical _tone_ as such is the essential end. For -although the soul in the course and movement of melody and its harmonic -relations presents what is ideal in objects, or its own ideal content, -to the emotional life; yet the ideality thus presented is not pure -ideality, but the human soul interwoven in the closest way with the -musical tone as its expression, and the configuration of such musical -expression which confers on music its true character. So much is this -the case that music receives its independent position as an art just in -proportion as the animation given by it to the emotional life is more -emphasized in the world of pure music than in that of man's ordinary -spiritual activity.[4] But for this very reason it is only to a -relative degree capable of reproducing the variety of spiritual ideas -and intuitions, the entire extension of the ideal wealth of conscious -life: it remains restricted to the more abstract universality of all -that it grasps as content, and the more indefinite manifestations of -our emotion. - -In the like degree, then, that mind (_Geist_) elaborates the more -abstract universality in a concrete whole of idea, ends, actions, and -events, and no less contributes to its conformation the particularizing -perception, it not only forsakes the subjective life of mere emotion -and builds up that life into an unfolded realm of objective reality -in this case, too, within the ideal world of the imagination itself, -it is compelled, by virtue of the nature of such transformation, to -forsake the attempt to express the new realm thus secured solely -and exclusively by means of tone relations. Precisely as the medium -of sculpture is too poor to express the more ample content that it -is the function of the art of painting to call into life, so too -the conditions of musical tone and melodic expression are unable to -realize fully the imaginative pictures of the poet. For these in part -possess the ideas more accurately defined to consciousness and, in -part, the form of external appearance impressed on the inner sense -of perceptive reason. Spirit consequently withdraws its content from -musical tone as such, and declares itself through words, which it is -true do not entirely forsake the element of sound, but sink to the -purely external sign of the communication. In other words, by means of -this repletion with spiritual ideas, musical tone becomes the voice of -articulate words; language, in its turn, is diverted from an end in -itself to a means of ideal expression which has lost its independent -self-subsistancy. This constitutes in fact what we have already -established as the essential difference between music and poetry. The -content of the art of speech is the collective art of the world of -ideas elaborated by the imagination, the spiritual which remains at -home in its vision, which remains in this ideal realm, and, even in -its movement toward an objective world, is only conscious of the same -as a symbol that differs from its own conscious content. In music -art reproduces the penetration of Spirit in a sensuously apparent -and present form. In poetry it even forsakes the element of _musical -tone_ and articulation opposed to it, at least to the extent that this -musical tone is no longer reclothed in fully adequate externality -and the exclusive expression of that content. The ideal no doubt is -expressed, but it fails to discover its real existence in the sensuous -medium of tone, despite the fact that it is of a more ideal character; -this it discovers exclusively in its own essential content, by virtue -of which it expresses the content of mind as it is realized in the -ideality of the imagination simply as such. - -(_c_) In the _third_ place, and finally, if we consider the specific -character of poetry relatively to this distinction between music and -painting, and we may include with it the other plastic arts, we shall -find the same simply to consist in the subordination of the mode under -which all poetical content is envisaged and configured by the medium of -sense. In other words, when tone, as it does in the art of music, or -for that matter, colour as in that of painting, no longer essentially -recovers and expresses the entire content, in that case the musical -treatment of the composition under its aspects of time, no less than -those of harmony and melody, drops away; we have left us merely the -generalized configuration of the time-measure of syllables and words, -to which we may add rhythm, euphony, and the like. And further, it is -to be noted that we have this, not in the sense of a genuine medium for -the content, but rather as a mode of externality which is accidental, -and which only receives an artistic form, because art cannot permit any -mode of its external manifestation whatever to be entirely a question -of accidental caprice. - -(_α_) In connection with this withdrawal of the spiritual content from -the sensuous medium we are at once met with the question what it is -then which, under such a view, constitutes the actual externality or -objectivity in poetry, that of tone being thus excluded. The answer -to this is simple. It is the _ideal envisagement_ and _imaginative -content_ itself. We have here spiritual forms substituted for sensuous, -and supply a configurative material, such as we met with before in -marble, bronze, colour, or musical tones. In other words, we must guard -ourselves from such an inadequate statement of the facts as that ideas -and imagery are nothing more or less than the _content_ of poetry. -This is unquestionably true in a sense, as we shall demonstrate more -closely later on. Despite this, however, we are equally justified -in asserting that idea, imagery, emotion, and the like are specific -modes, under which every content in poetry is subsumed and manifested; -and consequently, that is, owing to the fact that the sensuous -aspect of the communication remains throughout a purely accidental -one[5]--it is these forms which supply the real material which the -poet has to elaborate artistically. No doubt the fact, the content, -must in poetry, as in other arts, receive its due objectification -for spirit; objectivity in this sense, however, is the exchange of -what was previously an external reality for one that is ideal; one -which receives an existence exclusively in conscious life itself, as -something conceived or imagined exclusively by mind. Mind is here on -its own ground objective to itself, and it suffers the medium of speech -merely as a means, that is to say, partly as one of communication, and -partly as one of immediate externality, from which, as from the pure -symbol merely, it is withdrawn throughout from itself into itself. For -this reason, in the case of genuine poetry, it is of no consequence -whether a poetical work be read in private or listened to; and for the -same reason it can also, without essential depreciation of its value, -be translated into other tongues, be transferred from versification -into prose, and thereby transmitted in tonal relations of an entirely -different character.[6] - -(_β_) In the _second_ place the question presents itself as to the -_nature_ of the object _for_ which the ideal concept is employed in -poetry. We answer that it is thus used relatively to essential truth -in everything of interest to Spirit; not merely, that is, relatively -to what is substantive in the same in the universality of its -symbolic significance or classical differentiation, but equally to -all that is at the same time specific and particular, in short, to -practically everything in and with which mind is in any way interested -and concerned. The art of language, consequently, both in respect to -its content and the mode under which that content is made explicit, -possesses a field of immeasurable compass, wholly incomparable with -that of the other arts. Every content, every sort of spiritual or -natural fact, event, history, deed, action, all conditions, whether -ideal or external, fall within the domain and configurative powers of -poetry. - -(_γ_) Material of this most varied character is not, however, made -poetical merely by reason of the fact that it is in a general way the -content of idea. Ordinary consciousness is able to elaborate precisely -the same content in the field of ideas, and to particularize concepts -without creating any poetical result. We recognized this fact when we -called the concept of mind merely the _material_ or medium, which only -receives a form adapted for poetry, in so far as it partakes of a novel -configuration by virtue of art. In precisely the same way mere colour -and tone in their immediacy are not as such the colour or tone of a -painter or a musician. We may in a general way describe the distinction -by stating that it is not the _idea as such_, but the _imagination_ of -the _artist_ which creates a poetical content, under conditions, that -is, in which the imagination grasps the same content in such a way that -it is itself therewith associated in language, words and their more -beautiful conjunction as human speech, just as in the other arts we -find it present in the architectonic form; the plastic of sculpture, -that adapted to painting, or musical tones and harmony. - -A further necessary limitation of the art's appearance is this that -the content must, on the one hand, not be embraced in relations -applicable to mere _thinking_, whether that of science or speculative -philosophy, nor further in the form of inarticulate _emotion_, or with -a clarity and self-sufficiency which appeals _exclusively_ to the -organs of sense;[6] neither, in another direction, must it suffer the -idea to pass entirely into what we may in general terms describe as -the contingency, divisions, and relativity of _finite_ reality. The -imagination of the poet in this respect must maintain a middle course -between the abstract universality of pure thinking and the concrete -corporeality of material objects, in so far as we are acquainted with -the latter in the productions of the plastic arts. Furthermore such an -art must generally conform to the requirements we have, in an early -section of this work, insisted as essential to every art-product. In -other words, the art itself must find in its content the adequate -object of its appearance, must elaborate everything, which it embraces, -so far as the interest appeals to the intelligence simply,[7] as an -essentially independent and self-exclusive world. Only in so far as -it does this is the demand of art satisfied, and the content thereof -becomes, by virtue of the specific mode of _its_ manifestation, an -organic whole, which in its parts presents the appearance of a limited -association and ideal synthesis, while at the same time, as contrasted -with the world of accidental subordinations, its consistency is one of -essential freedom, a whole made explicit through itself. - -3. The last point to which we must in conclusion draw attention in -respect to this distinction between poetry and the other arts is -connected with the different mode under which the imagination of the -poet substantiates its ideas in the objective medium of its exposition. -The arts hitherto considered were entirely serious in their attachment -to the material of sense, a medium in which they themselves were -operative, in so far as they merely bestowed on their content a -form, which could be throughout accepted and elaborated by means of -conglomerations of material substance, whether bronze, marble, or wood, -or the media of colour and tones.[8] In a certain sense, no doubt, -poetry also has to meet a condition somewhat similar. That is to say, -in poetical composition we must not overlook the fact that its results -have to be intelligible to mind by means of the communication of human -speech. But we shall find none the less that the situation in the two -cases is essentially altered. - -(_a_) Otherwise expressed, by reason of the importance pertaining to -the material aspect in the plastic arts and music, we find that, as a -result of the _defined_ restrictions of this material, only a _limited_ -number of conceptions can be fully reproduced in a particularized form -of reality such as stone, colour, and tone: the content therefore and -the possibilities of artistic composition are narrowed within very -definable limits. It was on account of this fact that we were able to -associate closely and exclusively every one of these specific arts -with one particular form of artistic creation pre-eminently adapted to -it. In this way the form of symbolism was appropriate to architecture, -the classical to sculpture, and the romantic to painting and music. It -is no doubt true that the particular arts in both directions from and -toward their proper domain tended to pass over into the other forms. -We took account of this fact when we found it possible to refer to a -classic and romantic style of architecture, a symbolical and Christian -type of sculpture, and even used the term classic in connection with -painting and music. Departures such as these from the prevailing type -were, however, merely experimental essays which prepared the way in -subordination to a new type rather than its culminating effort; or they -showed us how one art tended to pass beyond its true limits in seeking -to grasp a content or a relation to its material of a type that only a -further art development could adequately elaborate. Generally speaking, -we have seen that architecture has least resource in the expression of -its content; in sculpture there is already an increase of possibility, -which is further extended to its widest range[9] by painting and music. -And the reason of this is that in proportion as the ideality and -particularization under all its aspects by the external medium is made -more explicit the variety of the content and of the forms it receives -also increases. - -Poetry, on the other hand, casts itself free of all subordination to -the material of sense, at least to this extent, that in the definition -of external or objective expression no reason whatever remains why it -should restrict itself to specific content or any limitation to its -power of composition and reproduction. It is therefore exclusively -united to no specific art type; rather we may define it as the -_universal_ art, which is capable of reclothing and expressing under -every conceivable mode every content that can possibly enter into or -proceed from the imagination of man. And it can do this because its -material is nothing more or less than the imagination itself, which -is the universal root and ground of all the particular arts and their -specific types. - -We have already, in another connection, when concluding our discussion -of the particular artistic types, come across what was practically the -same thing. What we sought for, then, in our conclusion was that art -in one of its types should make itself independent of that mode of -representation properly called specific, remaining thereby predominant -above the entire sphere in which such a totality of particularization -is reproduced. An elaboration so comprehensive is among all the -particular arts by the very nature of the case only possible to poetry. -Its realization is effected through the development of poetical -creation in part by means of the actual reconstitution of every -particular type, and partly by the liberation of the mode of conception -and its content from the boundaries fixed for it in the essentially -exclusive types of conception, whose character we have severally -defined as symbolical, classical, and romantic. - -(_b_) The above considerations will further serve to justify the -position, which, in the course of our inquiry, regarded as the -development of a philosophy, we previously assigned to the art of -poetry. In other words by reason of the fact that poetry is, to a -degree quite impossible to any other mode of artistic production, -concerned with the universal simply as such in Art, we might appear -to have some reason for insisting that it marks the commencement -of an investigation in the full sense of the word philosophical, -and only from such a starting point can we enter into the sphere of -particularization, in which we find the series of the other arts as -limited and determined by their specific sensuous medium. Looking -back, however, at the result arrived at in our investigation of the -particular art types we shall find that the course of philosophical -evolution consisted, first, in an increased penetration of the ideal -content, and, from another point of view, in the demonstration that -originally Art sets forth in the search, then in the discovery of and -finally with an advance beyond that content compatible with its powers. -This notion of the beautiful and _Art_ must enforce itself in _the -arts_ themselves. The starting-point of our inquiry, therefore, was -architecture, in which we found merely an impulse toward the complete -representation of what pertains to Spirit in a material medium. This -is so much the case that it is only through sculpture that art first -attains to a genuine interfusion of ideality with the medium; and -further that only in the arts of painting and music do we reach the -stage where, by virtue of the ideal and subjective character of their -content, we find the perfected fusion effected no less under the aspect -of conception than that of practical execution in the medium accepted. -This process culminates most decisively in poetry, by virtue of the -fact that the very nature of its objective realization can only be -apprehended as an effort to draw apart from and cancel the material of -sense rather than one of reproduction which does not as yet venture to -clothe itself and move in the objective medium of sense-perception. In -order, however, to make this liberation intelligible in philosophical -terms it is of importance that we have already disposed of the question -what it is from which art undertakes to liberate itself. This question -stands in close relation to the fact that poetry is essentially capable -of embracing the entirety of intelligible content and artistic modes -of expression. We may add further that we have viewed this as the -acceptance of a totality, which can only be interpreted philosophically -as the abrogation of limitation in particularity. Our previous -consideration of what we mean by things that are one-sided would be -involved in such an exposition, the self-exclusive character of such -one-sidedness being cancelled by such a totality. - -It is only through the course of such an exposition that we can -effectively demonstrate that poetry is the specific art in which a -point is reached which marks the beginning of the disintegration of art -itself, a point at which the philosophical consciousness discovers its -bridge of passage to the notion of religion as such, as also to the -prose of scientific thought. The boundary lines of the realm of beauty -are, as we have already seen, on the one hand the prose of finite -condition and our ordinary conscious life, starting from which Art -makes its effort in the direction of truth, and, on the other, of the -loftier spheres of religion and science, from which it passes over into -a comprehension of the Absolute till more emancipate from all material -association. - -(_c_) Despite therefore the completeness with which the art of poetry -reproduces, under a mode of objectification that is most ideal, the -entire totality of Beauty, nevertheless intelligence is able to -discover even here too in this final domain of art a residue of defect. -We may for this purpose within our art-system directly contrast the -poetic art with that of architecture. In other words architecture was -still unable to subordinate the external material to the ideal content -sufficiently to clothe the same in a form adequate to mind; poetry on -the other hand carries the process of negating its sensuous medium -so far that instead of transforming that which stands in opposition -to gross spatial matter, namely tone, as architecture does with its -material into a significant symbol, it rather reduces it to a mere -sign of no significance. But by doing so it destroys the fusion of -spiritual ideality with external existence, so thoroughly that to this -extent it ceases to be compatible with the original notion of Art. In -other words it comes dangerously near to bidding goodbye to the region -of sense altogether, remaining wholly absorbed in that of ideality. -The fair mean between these extremes of architecture and poetry is -secured by sculpture, painting, and music. Every one of these arts not -merely still reproduces the spiritual content completely in a medium -borrowed from the objective world, but also leaves us with that which -lies open to our senses, no less than our intelligence. For although -painting and music, regarded as romantic arts, attach themselves to a -medium already more ideal, they do none the less supply the immediacy -of objective existence, which, however, in this increase of ideality, -shows indications of disappearance, while again from the opposite point -of view they prove themselves, through their media of colour and tone, -more profuse in fulness of particularization and manifold configuration -than is required from the material of sculpture. - -No doubt the art of poetry in its turn also endeavours, as a set-off to -this defect, to place the objective world before us with a breadth and -variety which even painting, at least in a single composition, fails -to secure: none the less this comprehensiveness remains throughout -merely a realization confined to consciousness itself; and, if it so -happens that poetry, in response to a demand for more material artistic -realization, attempts to increase the impression on our senses, it is -only able to do this by either borrowing these effects from music and -painting, in order to secure artistic means otherwise foreign to it; -or it is forced, if it seeks retain its genuine character, to employ -these sister arts only under a subordinate relation of service, while -the main stress is laid on the ideas of conscious life, the imagination -which appeals to the imagination, with which it is above all concerned. - -This will suffice for discussion of the general relation under which -poetry is placed to the other arts. We shall now proceed to a closer -examination of the art of poetry itself, and with a view to this -propose to co-ordinate the same as follows. - -We have already seen that in poetry it is the ideal concept itself from -which we derive content no less than medium. By reason, however, of -the fact that we already find outside Art's domain the world of idea -to be the most obvious mode of conscious life, it is above everything -else important to distinguish the conception of _poetry_ from that of -_prose._ The art of poetry, however, is not complete in this ideal -world of the imagination alone. It is necessary that it should clothe -the same in expressive _language._ It has therefore a twofold task -confronting it. On the one hand it is called upon so to arrange this -world of constructed idea that it may admit of complete translation -into speech: on the other it must take care not to leave this medium of -language in the form appropriated by ordinary conscious life. In other -words such must be treated poetically in order that the expression of -art may be distinguishable in the selection of words no less than their -position, and even their sound from that of ordinary prose. - -Furthermore, on account of the fact that, though poetry avails itself -of language as a means of expression, it secures by far the most -unqualified freedom from those conditions and restrictions imposed on -the other arts by virtue of the particularization of their material, -it is possible for a poetical composition in a pre-eminent degree to -elaborate every one of the various modes of expression, otherwise -adopted unaffected by the onesidedness incidental to their application -to a particular art. The subdivision of such _modes of expression_ in -all their variety is consequently by far the most complete in the works -of poetry. - -The further course of our investigation may now be epitomized as -follows: - -_First,_ we have to elucidate what is in general terms _poetical,_ and -the _poetical composition_ in particular. - -_Secondly,_ poetry will be examined as a means of _expression._ - -_Thirdly_, we shall deal with the subdivision of the art into _Epic, -Lyric,_ and _Dramatic_ poetry. - - -[Footnote 1: _Mittelpunkt._ We should rather say the unifying -significance of the creation.] - -[Footnote 2: It would be perhaps better to translate _geistigen -Innerlichkeit_ with the words "the self-conscious life of the human -reason." This is developed and explained, however, in the next -paragraph.] - -[Footnote 3: Hegel expresses this as "making the inner or ideal -content perceptible to the ideal faculty," that is, _prima facie_, -consciousness, or at least that sense which is nearest related to it, -viz., hearing.] - -[Footnote 4: By _statt des Geistigen_ Hegel clearly contrasts pure -music with music related as accompaniment to human speech in song.] - -[Footnote 5: Lit., "one that merely plays by the way."] - -[Footnote 6: Such a statement is obviously one which would be -strongly resisted. The stress laid here on the purely ideal content -as contrasted with the beauty of rhythm and modal arrangement would -certainly suggest that Hegel was deficient in a sense for the musical -possibilities of language I presume he does use _gebunden_ in the sense -of verse.] - -[Footnote 7: Hegel's expression is _in rein theoretischen Interesse._] - -[Footnote 8: The medium of music is not of course strictly on all fours -with the others.] - -[Footnote 9: That is under the limits of these four arts.] - - - - -I - - -POETICAL COMPOSITION AS DISTINGUISHED FROM THAT OF PROSE - - -We find it difficult to recall a single writer among all who have -written on the subject of poetry who has not evaded the attempt to -describe what is poetical as such, let alone a clear definition. And in -fact if any one begins a discussion upon poetry, regarded as an art, -without previously having investigated the nature of the content and -mode of conception appropriate to Art in its most general terms, he -will find it an extremely difficult matter to determine where we must -look for that in which the essential character of poetry consists. To -an exceptional degree is this failure to tackle this problem visible in -those cases where a writer takes as his point of departure the actual -execution in particular works of art, and seeks to establish, by means -of this connoisseurship, some general principle which he may apply as -relevant to every sort and kind of composition. In this way works of -the most heterogeneous character come to rank as genuine poetry. If we -once start from such assumptions, and then proceed to the inquiry by -virtue of what productions of this nature can be reasonably classed -together as poems we are at once confronted with the difficulty I have -above adverted to. Happily our own position here is not that of these -inquirers. In the first place we have by no manner of means arrived -at the general notion of our subject-matter through an examination -of any particular examples of its display; we have on the contrary -sought to evolve the actual constitution of the same by a reference to -the fundamental notion.[1] Agreeably with this it is not part of our -demand that everything in ordinary parlance regarded as poetry should -in our present inquiry fall into the general notion we have accepted. -At least this is certainly not so in so far as the decision whether any -particular work is or is not poetical is only deducible from the notion -itself. Furthermore it is unnecessary now to expound more fully what we -understand by the notion of poetry. To do this we should simply have to -repeat again the course of our inquiry into the nature of Beauty and -the Ideal as developed in general terms in the first part of this work. -The intrinsic character of what is poetical stands in general agreement -with the generic notion of artistic beauty and the art-product. That -is to say, the imagination of the poet is not, as is the case with -the plastic arts and music by reason of the nature of the _materia_, -through which they are reproductive, constrained in its creative -activity in many directions, and forced to accept many others of a -onesided or very partial completeness; it is on the contrary merely -subservient to the essential requirements and general principle of an -ideal and artistic presentation. - -From the many different points of view applicable to our present -purpose, I will attempt to emphasize merely those of most importance, -as for example, _firsts_ that which relates to the distinction between -the _mode of composition_ employed respectively by poetry and prose; -_secondly_, that which contrasts a _poetical work_ as completed with -one of prose; and, _finally_, I propose to add a few observations -relative to the subjective faculty which creates, or, shall we say, -the _poet_ himself. - -I. THE COMPOSITION OF POETRY AND PROSE - -(_a_) In so far as the _content_ appropriate to poetical composition -is concerned we may, relatively speaking at any rate, exclude the -external world of natural fact. It is spiritual interests rather than -the sun, mountains, landscape, or the bodily human form, and the -like, which are its proper subject-matter. For, although it naturally -embraces the element of sensuous impression and perception, it remains -none the less, even in this respect, an activity of mind. Its main -object is an intuition of ideality, to which it stands as spiritual -activity in closer relation and affinity than is possible for external -objects, as presented in their concrete substance to the senses. The -world of Nature therefore only enters into the content of poetry in so -far as mind discovers therein a stimulus or a material upon which to -exercise its own energy; as, for example, where it is regarded as the -environment of man, merely possessing essential worth in its relation -to the ideality of conscious life, which moreover can put forward no -claim to be itself the independent object of poetry. The object, in -short, which fully corresponds to its appeal is the infinite realm of -Spirit. For the medium of language, the most plastic medium possessed -immediately by conscious life, and the one most competent to grasp its -interests and movements in their ideal vitality, precisely as is the -case with the material of the other arts, such as stone, colour, and -tone, must necessarily and above all be employed to express that which -it is most qualified to express. It is consequently the pre-eminent -task of poetry to bring before our vision the energies of the life of -Spirit, all that surges to and fro in human passion and emotion, or -passes in tranquillity across the mind, that is the all-embracing realm -of human idea, action, exploit, fatality, the affairs of this world and -the divine Providence. It has been the most universal and cosmopolitan -instructor of the human race and is so still. Instruction and learning -are together the knowledge and experience of what is. Stars, animals -and plants are ignorant of their law--it does not come into their -experience; but man only then exists conformably to the principle of -his being when he knows what he is and by what he is surrounded. He -must recognize the powers by which he is driven or influenced; and it -is just such a knowledge which poetry, in its original and vital[2] -form, supplies. - -(_b_) It is, however, also a content of the same character which -belongs to man's _ordinary_ conscious life. This too instructs him in -general laws, as such at least are interpreted by the motley crowd of -human life, in their distinction, coordination, and significance. The -question therefore arises, as previously observed, as to the nature of -the distinction between the mode of conception severally adopted by -prose and poetry, a similarity in the content of each being assumed as -possible. - -(_α_) Poetry is of greater antiquity than speech modelled in the -artistic form of elaborate prose. It is the _original_ imaginative -grasp of truths a form of knowledge, which fails as yet to separate -the universal from its living existence in the particular object, -which does not as yet contrast law land phenomena, object and means, -or relate the one to the other in subordination to the process of -human reason, but comprehends the one exclusively in the other and by -virtue of the other. For this reason it does not merely, under the mode -of imagery, express a content already essentially apprehended in its -universality; on the contrary it lingers, conformably to its unmediated -notion, in the unity of concrete life itself, which has not as yet -effected such a separation or such an association of mere relationship. - -(_αα_) Under the above forms of envisualization, poetry posits all that -it comprehends as an exclusive and consequently independent totality, -which, despite its capacity for a rich content and an extensive range -of condition, individuals, actions, events, emotions and ideas of -every kind, nevertheless is forced to exhibit the same in all their -wide complexity as an essentially self-determined whole, as displayed -and motived by the unity, whose individual expression this or that -fact in its singularity actually is. And consequently the universal -or rational principle is not expressed in poetry in its abstract -universality, or in the complexus which lies open to philosophical -exposition or under the relation of its varied aspects apprehended -by science, but on the contrary as a vital union, in its phenomenal -presence, possessed with soul and self-determined throughout; and it is -further expressed in such a way that the all-embracing unity, the real -soul of its vitality, is only suffered to be operative in mysterious -guise from within outwards. - -(_ββ_) The character of this mode of apprehending, reclothing and -expressing fact is throughout one of construction. It is not the fact -itself and its _contemplative_[3] existence, but reconstruction and -speech which are the object of poetry. Its entrance on the scene dates -from the first efforts of man at self-expression. What is expressed -is simply made use of to satisfy this desire. The instant man, in the -midst of his practical activities and imperative duties, seeks to -summarize this effect for mind and to communicate himself to others, -then we have some kind of artistic expression, some accord with what -is poetical. To mention one from a host of examples, there is that -distich which we read in Herodotus referring to the slain heroes -of Thermopylae. As for its content it is simply the fact, the bare -announcement that four thousand Peloponesians on a certain spot fought -the battle with three hundred myriads. The main interest is, however, -the composition of an inscription which communicates to contemporary -life and posterity the historical fact, and is there exclusively to -do so. In other words, the expression of this fact is poetical; it -testifies to itself as a deed (εἱν ποιείν) which leaves the content in -its simplicity, but expresses the same with a definite purpose. The -language, in which the idea is embodied, is to that extent of such -increased value that an attempt is made to distinguish it from ordinary -speech; we have a distich in lieu of a sentence. - -(_γγ_) For this reason, even from the point of view of language, poetry -makes an effort to keep its domain singular and distinct from ordinary -parlance, and to accomplish this elevates its expression to a higher -virtue than that of merely articulate expression. We must, however, not -only in this particular respect, but for the purposes of our present -inquiry generally, make an essential distinction between a primitive -poetry, which arises _previous to_ the creation of ordinary artificial -prose, and that mode of poetical composition and speech the development -of which is effected where already the conditions of our everyday life -and prosaic expression exist. The first is poetical without intention, -in idea no less than speech; the latter, on the contrary, is fully -conscious of the sphere, from which its task is to detach itself, in -order that it may establish itself on the free basis of art. It is -consequently quite aware of the distinction and contrast implied in its -self-creation to the world of prose. - -(_β_) _Secondly_, the kind of _prose life_, from which poetry has to -separate itself, postulates an entirely different nature of conception -and speech. - -(_αα_) In other words, looked at from one point of view, such a -consciousness regards the wide expanse of reality according to that -association of cause and effect, object and means, and all other -categories of the mode of reflection which deals with _finite_ -conditions and the objective world generally, that is, the limited -categories of science or the understanding. It is a feature of such -thought that every particular trait should at one moment appear with -a false subsistency, at another should be placed in the position -of _bare_ relation to something else, that as such it should be so -apprehended in its relativity and dependence that no unity of a -free nature whatever is possible, no unity, that is, which remains -essentially throughout, and in all its branches and separate filaments, -a complete and free totality, no unity, in short, where we find that -the individual aspects are simply the appropriate explication and -phenomenal presence of _one_ content which constitutes the point of -focus, the soul that unites all together, and which also finds its -vital principle in this all-pervading centre of animation. Rather the -type of conception we above refer to as that of science goes no further -than the discovery of particular laws in phenomena, and persists for -this reason in the separation, or bare relation, of the particular -existence with its general law, the laws themselves under this view -tending to harden from each other in their isolate singularity; that -their relation is, in fact, conceived exclusively under external and -finite conditions. - -(_ββ_) And, furthermore, man's _ordinary_ consciousness has nothing -to do with what we call the ideal principle of association, the -essential core of facts, their bases, causes, ends, and so forth. It -rests satisfied with the acceptance of the mere fact that something -exists or happens as distinct from something else; or, in other words, -with its insignificant contingency. It is no doubt true that the -unity of life is not, in such a case, deliberately cancelled by any -express separation; that unity, I mean, in which the intuition of the -poet arrests the ideal _rationale_ of the fact, its expression and -determinate existence. What, however, is absent here, is just that -flash of insight into this core of reason and significance, which -becomes consequently for our intelligence a thing essentially vacant, -possessing no further claim on our minds to a rational interest. The -comprehension of a rational cosmos; and its relations is exchanged then -and there for a mere flux and contiguity of indifference, which it -is true may possess a large expanse of external animation, but which -none the less suffers the profounder impulse of reason[4] to remain -unsatisfied. True vision, no less than soul-life in its full vigour, -can only obtain satisfaction, where such are made aware in phenomena, -through feeling no less than contemplation, of the reality in its -essence and truth which is compatible with such a world. The life which -is a mere external show is defunct to our deeper sense, if all that is -ideal and intrinsically rich in significance fails to shine through as -the very soul thereof. - -(_γγ_) These defects, thirdly, in the conceptions of science and our -ordinary conscious life _speculative thought_ effaces. It stands, -therefore, in one respect in affinity with the imagination of the poet. -The cognizance of reason[5] is not solely, or even mainly, concerned -with contingent singularity, nor does it overlook in the phenomenal -world the essence of the same. It does not rest satisfied with the -differentiations and external relations proper to the conceptions and -deductions of the understanding; it unites them in a free totality, -which in the apprehension of our finite faculty in part fails to -preserve its self-consistency, and in part is posited in a relation -that possesses no synthetic unity. Pure thought, however, can have -but one result, namely thoughts. It evaporates the mode of reality -in that of the pure notion. And although it grasps and comprehends -actual things in their essential separation and their actual -existence, it does also nevertheless translate this particularity -into the ideal element of the universal, in which alone thought is -at home with itself. Consequently there arises, in contrast to the -world of phenomena, a world that is new in this sense, that though -the truth of the Real is present, it is not displayed in _reality_ -itself as the power itself which gives it form and the veritable soul -thereof. Thinking is simply a reconciliation of truth with reality in -_Thought._ The creations and reconstruction, however, of the poet is a -reconciliation under the mode of phenomenal reality itself, albeit such -a _real appearance_ is merely ideally conceived. - -(_γ_) We have, therefore, two distinct spheres of consciousness, -that of poetry and prose. In former times, in which there is neither -present a deliberate outlook on the world elaborated, in respect to -its religious belief and its general knowledge, under the co-ordinated -form of scientific ideas and cognition, nor an actual world of -human condition regulated conformably to such a standard, poetry is -confronted with a lighter task. Prose is not in such a case opposed to -it as an essentially independent field of ideal and external existence, -which it has first to overcome. Its problem is for the most part -simply limited to deepening all that is significant or transparent in -the forms of ordinary consciousness. If, on the contrary, the prose -of life has already appropriated within its mode of vision the entire -content of conscious life, setting its seal on all and every part -of it, the art of poetry is forced to undertake the task of melting -all down again and re-coining the same anew. In every direction it -finds itself involved in difficulties by the unresponsive nature of -prosaic existence. It has, in short, not only to wrest itself from the -adherence of ordinary consciousness to all that is indifferent and -contingent, and to raise the scientific apprehension of the cosmos of -fact to the level of reason's profounder penetration, or to translate -speculative thought into terms of the imagination, giving a body to -the same in the sphere of intelligence itself; it has further to -convert in many ways the _mode of expression_ common to the ordinary -consciousness into that appropriate to poetry; and, despite of all -deliberate intention enforced by such a contrast and such a process, to -make it appear as though all such purpose was absent, preserving the -original freedom essential to all art. - -(_c_) We have now summarized in its most general terms that in which -the content of poetry consists. We have further distinguished the -form of poetry from that of prose. In conclusion, it is of importance -to draw attention to the particularization which the art of poetry, -to a degree unattained by the other arts, whose development is not -nearly so rich in results, admits of. We find, no doubt, architecture -illustrated in the arts of very varied peoples, and continuous through -many centuries. But of sculpture, at least, it is true that it reaches -its culminating point in the ancient world of Greece and Rome, just as -painting and music have done more recently in Christendom. The art of -poetry celebrates its epochs of brilliancy and bloom among all nations -and in all ages almost that present any real artistic activity at all. -It embraces the collective Spirit of mankind, and it is differentiated -through every kind of variation. - -(_α_) Furthermore, inasmuch as poetry does not accept the universal in -scientific abstraction from its object, but seeks to represent what -is rational under the mode of individuality,[6] the specific traits -of national character are essential to its growth; the content and -the particular mode of its presentation are in fact conditioned by -the nature of these and the general outlook in each case. We find it -consequently adapting itself to every variety of form and peculiarity. -It matters not what the poetry may be, whether Oriental, Italian, -Spanish, English, Roman, Hellenic, or German, each and all differ -totally in their spirit, emotional impulse, general outlook and -expression. - -A similar distinctive variety asserts itself in particular epochs as -they are favourable to the art of poetry or the reverse. The results -secured, for example, by our German poetry were impossible in the -Middle Ages, or the times of the thirty years' war. The particular -motives, which in our own day excite the greatest interest, are -inseparable from the entire evolution of contemporary life. And in the -same way every age has its own wider or more restricted, more exalted -and liberal, or more depressed phase of emotional life, in short its -specific outlook on the world, which it is the express aim of poetry -to bring home to the artistic consciousness in the most intelligible -and complete manner, inasmuch as language is the one medium capable of -expressing the human spirit wherever and in whatever form it may be -manifested. - -(_β_) Among these national characteristics, or views and opinions -peculiar to particular epochs, some have closer affinity with the -poetic impulse than others. The Oriental consciousness is, for example, -in general more poetic than the Western mind, if we exclude Greece. -In the East the principle predominant is always that of coherence, -solidity, unity, substance. An outlook of this nature is intrinsically -most penetrative, even though it may fail to reach the freedom of the -Ideal. Our Western point of view, especially that of modern life, is -based on the endless breaking up and division of its boundless material -into fragments, in virtue of which process, the extreme emphasis laid -here on particular facts, what is merely finite becomes substantive for -the imagination, and despite of this must be once more subsumed under -the converse action of relativity. For the Oriental nothing persists as -really substantive, but everything appears as contingent, discovering -its supreme focus, stability and final justification in the One, the -Absolute, to which it is referred. - -(_γ_) By means of this diversity of national traits and the -evolutionary process of the centuries we find that what is shared -by all mankind alike, no less than all that claims to be artistic, -is drawn as a common element within the reach of other nations and -epochs, intelligible and enjoyable to the same. It is in this twofold -connection that of late years to an exceptional degree Hellenic poetry -has roused the admiration and imitation of most diverse nationalities. -And this is so because in the content of it no less than in the -artistic form it receives the simply human is disclosed with most -beauty. The literature of India itself, however, despite all the -difficulties attendant on an outlook and artistic expression so alien -to our own, is not wholly outside our sympathy; and the boast is no -empty one that in our modern era pre-eminently a keen sense for all -that art and the human spirit embraces in every direction has begun to -unfold itself. - -Were we in our present investigation of this impulse toward -individualization, pursued so persistently by poetry, under the -aspects we have already described, to restrict the same to a _general_ -treatment of the art of poetry, such a generalization, however -established, could not fail to be abstract and devoid of content. It is -therefore of first importance, if our object be to consider poetry of -a really genuine type, that we include in our survey the forms of the -creative spirit as presented in their national form, the unique product -of one age; and further we must not overlook the individuality which -creates, the soul of the poet. Such, then, are the main points of view -to which I would draw attention by way of a general introduction to -poetical creation and conception. - -2. THE ART-PRODUCT OF POETRY AND PROSE - -Poetry is not, however, exhausted by the imaginative idea alone: it -must necessarily proceed to make itself articulate and complete in the -_poetical work of art._ - -Such an object of study opens a large field of investigation. We may -conveniently arrange and classify the course of our discussion as -follows: - -_First,_ we shall endeavour to point out what is of most importance -relatively to the _poetical composition generally._ - -_Secondly_, we shall distinguish it from the principal types of _prose -composition_, in so far as the same are compatible with artistic -treatment. - -We shall then, _finally_ be in a position to deduce with some -completeness the notion of the _free art-product._ - -(_a_) In respect to the poetical work of art under its generic aspect -all that is necessary is once more to enforce our previous contention -that it must, no less than any other production of an unfettered -imagination, receive the form and independence of an organic whole. -This demand can only receive satisfaction as follows: - -(_α_) In the _first_ place that which constitutes a homogeneous -content, whether it be a definite object of action and event, or a -specific emotion and passion, must before everything else possess -intrinsic unity. - -(_αα_) All else must be posited under relation to this bond of unity, -and thereby combine to form a freehand concrete coherence of all parts. -This is only possible under the condition, that the content selected is -not conceived as abstract _universal_, but as the action and emotion of -men, as the object and passion which are actually present in the mind, -soul, and volition of definite individuals, arising as such from the -distinctive basis of an individual nature in each case. - -(_ββ_) The universal, which is to receive representation, and the -individuals, in whose character events and actions the manifestation -of poetry is asserted must not consequently fall into fragments, or be -so related that the individuals are merely of service as an abstract -universal; both aspects must combine in vital coalescence. In the -Iliad, for example, the contest of Greeks and Trojans, and the victory -of the former is inseparably bound up with the wrath of Achilles, -which for this reason becomes the common focus welding all together. -No doubt we also find poetical works in which the fundamental content -is partly more abstract in its generalization, and also partly is -executed in a way that expresses a universal of more significance. -Dante's great epic poem is an illustration, which not only embraces the -world divine throughout, but displays individuals of the most varied -character in their relation to the punishments of hell, purgatory and -the blessedness of Paradise. But even here we find no entirely abstract -separation, of the two points of view, no mere relation of service -between the particular objects. For in the Christian world the focus -of conscious life is not conceived as nothing more than an accident of -Godhead, but as essential and infinite cause or end itself, so that -here the universal purpose, that is the divine justice in condemnation -and salvation can verily appear as immanent fact, the eternal interest -and being of the individual himself. In this divine world the -individual is throughout of pre-eminent importance. In that of the -State he can of course be sacrificed in order to save the universal, -that is the State. In his relation to God, however, and in the kingdom -of God he is essentially and exclusively the end. - -(_γγ_) We must, however, _thirdly_, conceive the universal, which -supplies the content of human emotion and action as self-subsistent, -intrinsically complete where it is, and constituting as such in -itself a definitive and exclusive world. When, for instance, in our -contemporary life mention is made of any officer, official, general, -professor, and so forth, and we try to imagine what kind of action such -a man or personality is likely to attempt or carry out under his own -particular conditions of environment, we place before ourselves simply -a content of interest and activity, which in part is not itself a -rounded and self-substantive whole, but one which stands in infinitely -manifold external connections, relations and conditions, in part also, -if we regard it as abstract totality, one which can receive the form -of a universal concept in its separation from the individuality of -the, in other respects, entire personality, as for instance that of -personal obligation. Conversely we may have no doubt a content of -sterling character, making, that is to say, an essentially independent -whole, which, despite of this, and without further development and -advance, is complete in one sentence. It is really impossible to say -whether a content of this nature belongs more properly to poetry or -prose. The grand affirmation of the old Testament, "God said Let their -be Light and there was Light," is at once in its penetration, no less -than the precision of its embrace,[7] as much essentially sublime -poetry as it is ordinary prose. Of a similar nature is the command, "I -am the Lord thy God, thou shalt have no other gods but me"; or that, -"Honour thy father and thy mother." The golden epigrams of a Pythagoras -and the wise sayings of Solomon are of the same type. Phrases, so -rich in content as the above, have their origin in a world where the -distinction between poetry and prose is as yet absent. We can, however, -hardly affirm of such that they are a poetical work of art, even though -many such phrases may be combined together. The independence and -rounding off of a genuine poetical work must be assumed at the same -time to be of the nature of a process, and a differentiation of parts: -we assume it therefore to be a unity, the true character of which is -only made explicit by emphatic insistence upon its diversity. This -process, absolutely essential in the plastic arts, regarded at least -according to the requirements of their form, is also more generally of -the greatest moment in a poetical composition. - -(_β_) This introduces us, then, to a _second_ feature of the work -of art, namely, the organic differentiation of its several parts, -essential to it not merely that it may be presented as an organic -unity, but that the elaboration of all it implies may be rendered -complete. - -(_αα_) The most obvious reason of this necessity is referable to the -fact that Art in general tends instinctively to particularization. -The effect of the scientific faculty is that what is particular and -singular fails to receive its complete vindication. And this is so -not merely because the understanding apprehends the manifold, as such -theoretic faculty, starting from its principles of generalization, -causing the particular fact thereby to evaporate in its abstract -deductions and categories; but also because it makes this manifold -subserve ends of purely practical import. Severe adherence to that -purely relative value, which strictly belongs to the nature of the -process, appears to the understanding as useless and tedious. To the -conception and composition of poetry on the contrary every part, every -phase in the result must remain of essential interest and vital. -It dallies therefore with delight in detail, depicts the same with -enthusiasm, and treats every part as an independent whole. However -great, therefore, in addition the content may be of a poetical work -in its central interest, the organic completeness is equally asserted -in subordinate detail, precisely as in the human organism every -member, every finger is rounded with exquisite delicacy in its unified -completeness, and as a rule, we find in Nature that every particular -existence is enclosed within a perfect world of its own. The advance of -poetry is therefore more slow than that compatible with the judgments -and conclusions of the understanding, where we find that, whether -regarded theoretically as science or with reference to practical -conduct and action, the main stress is on the final result, this -rather than on the path by which it is reached. As for the degree in -which poetry approaches realization in its tenderness for such detail -we have already pointed out that it is not its vocation to describe -with excessive diffuseness what is exterior in the form of its sensuous -appearance. If it therefore undertakes extensive descriptions without -making them reflect at the same time the claims and interests of -soul-life it becomes heavy and tedious. Above all it must take care not -to enter into deliberate rivalry with the actual detail, in its exact -completeness, presented by natural fact itself. Even painting in this -respect should aim at circumspection and restriction. We have therefore -here and in the case of poetry a twofold point of view to consider. -On the one hand we must remember that the impression is on our mental -vision; and on the other the art can only place before the mind the -object, which in Nature we can survey and comprehend in a single -glance in a series of separate traits. For this reason it is important -that poetry does not carry its elaboration of detail so far, that the -vision of the whole in its entirety becomes inevitably disturbed, -confused, or lost. It is obvious therefore that difficulties of an -exceptional nature have to be overcome when the attempt is made to -place an action or event of varied nature before our vision, and where -in actual life such happen in a single moment of time, and in close -connection with such immediacy, for all it can do is to present the -same in a continuous series. As respects this difficulty, no less than -the general way in which poetry, as already described, approaches the -detail of Nature, we find the demand of the several generic types of -the art differs very considerably. Epic poetry, for instance, attaches -itself to the particularity of the external world with an emphasis -totally different from that of dramatic poetry, with its rapidity of -forward movement, or from that of lyrical poetry with its exclusive -insistence on the ideally significant. - -(_ββ_) It is through an elaboration of this kind that the several parts -of a composition secure _subsistency._ No doubt this appears to stand -in direct contradiction to the unity which we established as a primary -condition: as a matter of fact the opposition is merely apparent. -This independence should not, that is to say, assert itself in such -a way that the several parts are placed in absolute separation from -each other: it must on the contrary only be carried so far that the -several aspects and members of the whole are clearly seen on their own -account to be asserted in the vital form peculiar to each, and to stand -on their own free basis of independence. If, on the contrary, this -individualized life is absent from the several parts, the composition -becomes, precisely as Art generally can only invest the universal with -determinate existence under the form of actual particularity, cold and -defunct. - -(_γγ_) Despite of this self-subsistency, however, these several parts -must remain likewise in conjunction to the extent that the _one_ -fundamental motive or purpose, made explicit and manifest in and -through them, must declare itself as the unity which pervades the -whole, and in which the parts coalesce and to which they return. This -is the condition of art, and pre-eminently so of poetry, where it falls -short of its noblest reach, upon which it most readily is wrecked, and -the work of art declines from the realm of a free imagination into -that of mere prose. To put it in another way, the connexion into which -the parts fall must not merely be one of final _cause and effect._ For -in the relation of teleology the end is the universal as essentially -presupposed and willed, which it is true succeeds in making the several -aspects tally with the process, yet employs them none the less as means -and to this extent robs them of all really free stability and thereby -of every sort of vitality. In such a case the parts merely fall under -a relation of purpose to one end, which is asserted imperiously to the -disadvantage of all else, and which accepts the same in abstraction -as subservient and subordinate to itself. The freedom and beauty of -art contradict flatly this servile relation of the abstract faculty of -science. - -(_γ_) On these grounds the unity, asserted in the several parts of the -composition, must be of another character. The definition of this may -be stated under two aspects of conception, as follows. - -(_αα_) In the _first_ place, the vital presence we have already -referred to as peculiar to every part separately must be maintained. -If we direct our attention, however, to that which in fact justifies -the introduction of any detail whatever into the composition, we -find the point of departure to be _one_ fundamental idea which the -same as a whole is undertaken to manifest or interpret. Consequently -everything defined and particular must announce that as the source of -its own specific appearance. In other words, the content of a poetical -work must not be itself intrinsically abstract, but concrete, one -that by reason of its own wealth conducts us to a rich unravelment of -its varied aspects. And when this variety, even assuming that in its -realization it falls to every appearance into plain contradictions, -yet is as a matter of fact rooted in the essentially unified content -we have adverted to, in that case we may affirm that by necessity -the content itself, in a form agreeable to its notion and being, -comprises what is fundamentally an exclusive and harmonious totality -of particular characteristics, which it possesses as its own, and in -the continuous expatiation of which what it is in its real significance -is in truth rendered explicit. It is only _these_ several parts, which -originally belong to the content, and which consequently should be -carried into the composition under the mode of actual and essentially -sound and vital existence. In this respect, therefore, despite all -appearance the display of particular characteristics present of -opposition to others, they are throughout combined in a union of -mysterious accord, rooted in its own nature. - -(_ββ_) _Secondly,_ since the composition is presented under the form -of _natural_ phenomena, the unity must, in order to preserve the vital -appearance of such reality, only be the _ideal_ bond, which to all -appearance without intention holds together the parts and includes -them in an organic whole. It is just this animating union of organic -life which alone is able to bring into being true poetry as contrasted -with the expressed intention of plain prose. That is to say whenever -particularity exclusively appears as means to a definite end, it does -not possess and cannot conceivably possess an independent and unique -vitality of its own; what it does testify to, on the contrary, is that -it exists for the sake of something else, that is the end proposed. -Purpose of this type declares its sovereignty over the objective facts -through which it is fulfilled. An artistic composition should, however, -confer upon all that is particular within it, all in the expatiation -of which it displays continuously the central and fundamental content -selected, the appearance of an unfettered stability. This is absolutely -necessary, because what we here comprise under the term particularity -is just that content itself under the mode of the reality which -corresponds with it. We may therefore recall to our minds the analogous -task of speculative thought, which in the same way has on the one -side to develop the particular to the point of self-subsistency or -freedom from that which is at first an indefinite universality; and -likewise, too, it is called on to demonstrate how within this totality -of what is particular, in which that and that only is divulged which -essentially reposes in the universal, the unity is on this very account -once more asserted, and indeed then and only then is truly concrete -unity, established through its own differences and their mediation. -Speculative philosophy is thus, in the same way, through the method of -dialectic above adverted to, responsible for works which resemble in -this respect those of poetry, containing, that is, by virtue of the -content, an essential identity of self-seclusiveness and a revelation -of differentiated material in accord with it. We must, however, despite -this similarity between these two activities, and apart from the -obvious difference between the evolution of pure thinking and creative -art, draw attention to a further essential distinction. The deduction -of philosophy no doubt vindicates the necessity and actuality of -particularity, but none the less, in virtue of the dialectic process in -which this aspect of reality is asserted, it is expressly demonstrated -of this particularity and all of it, that it for the first time -discovers its truth and its stability in the concrete unity.[8] Poetry, -on the contrary, does not proceed to any such express demonstration. -The concordant unity must no doubt be completely vindicated in every -one of its creations, and be operative there in all their manifold -detail as the soul and vital core of the whole; but this presence -remains for Art an ideal bond which is implied rather than expressly -posited, precisely as the soul is immediately made vital in all the -bodily members, without robbing the same of the appearance of an -independent existence. We have the same truth illustrated by colour and -tone. Yellow, blue, green and red are different colours which admit -of the most absolute contrast; but none the less, on account of the -fact that as colour they all essentially belong to one totality, they -maintain a harmony throughout; and it is not, moreover, necessary that -this union as such should be expressly declared in them. In a similar -way the dominant, the third and the fifth remain independent as tones, -and yet for all that give us the harmony of the trichord; or, rather, -we should put it that they only produce this harmony so long as each -tone is permitted to assert its own essentially free and characteristic -sound. - -(_γγ_) In connection with this organic unity and articulate synthesis -of a poetical composition we have further to consider essential -_features of distinction_ which are due to the particular _artistic -form_ appropriate to the composition under review, no less than the -particular _type_ of poetry in which we discover the specific character -of its working out. Poetry, for example, of symbolic art is unable, -owing to the more abstract and indefinite traits which constitute its -essential and significant content, to attain to a fully organic fusion -in the degree of transparency possible to the works of the classical -art-form. In symbolism generally, as we have already established in the -first part of this enquiry, the conjunction of general significance -and the actual phenomenon, in association with which Art embodies -its content, is of a less coherent character: as a result of this we -find that what is particular in one direction preserves a greater -consistency; in another, as in the case of the Sublime, only so far -asserts this quality in order, through the negation thus implied, to -render more intelligible the _one_ supreme power and substance, or -merely to advance the process to a condition of mysterious association -of particular, but at the same time heterogeneous no less than related -traits and aspects of natural and spiritual facts. Conversely, in -the romantic type, wherein the ideality of truth reveals itself in -essential privacy to soul-life only, we find a wider field for the -display of the detail of rational reality in its self-subsistency; in -this latter case the conjunction of all parts and their union must -necessarily be present, but the nature of their elaboration can neither -be so clear or secure as in the products of classical art. - -In a similar way the Epic gives us a more extensive picture of the -external world; it even lingers by the way in episodical events -and deeds, whereby the unity of the whole, owing to this increased -isolation of the parts, appears to suffer diminution. The drama, in -contrast to this, requires a more strenuous conjunction, albeit, even -in the drama, we find that romantic poetry permits the introduction of -a type of variety in the nature of episode and an elaborate analysis -of characteristic traits in its presentation of soul-life no less than -that of external fact. Lyric poetry, as it changes conformably to the -fluctuation of its types, adapts itself to a mode of presentment of -the greatest variety: at one time it is bare narration; at another -the exclusive expression of emotion or contemplation; at another it -restricts its vision, in more tranquil advance, to the central unity -which combines; at another it shifts hither and thither in unrestrained -passion through a range of ideas and emotions apparently destitute of -any unity at all. - -This, then, must suffice us on the general question of a poetical -composition. - -(_b_) In order now,--this is our _second_ main head in the present -discussion,--to examine more closely the distinction which obtains -between the organic poem as above considered and the prose composition, -we propose to direct attention to those specific types of _prose_ -which, despite their obvious limitations, do none the less come into -closest affinity with art. Such are, without question, the arts of -history and oratory. - -(_α_) As regards history, there can be no doubt that we find ample -opportunity here for _one_ aspect of genuine artistic activity. - -(_αα_) The evolution of human life in religion and civil society, -the events and destinies of the most famous individuals and peoples, -who have given emphasis to life in either field by their activity, -all this presupposes great ends in the compilation of such a work, -or the complete failure of what it implies. The historical relation -of subjects and a content such as these admits of real distinction, -thoroughness and interest: and however much our historian must -endeavour to reproduce actual historical fact, it is none the less -incumbent upon him to bring before our imaginative vision this motley -content of events and characters, to create anew and make vivid the -same to our intelligence with his own genius.[9] In the creation -of such a memorial he must, moreover, not rest satisfied with the -bare letter of particular fact; he must bring this material into a -co-ordinated and constructive whole; he must collectively conceive -and embrace single traits, occurrences and actions under the unifying -concept; with the result that on the one hand we have flashed before us -a clear picture of nationality, epoch of time, external condition and -the spiritual greatness or weakness of the individuals concerned in the -very life and characterization which belonged to them; and on the other -that the bond of association, in which the various parts of our picture -stand to the ideal historical significance of a people or an event, is -asserted from such without exception. It is in this sense that we, even -in our own day, speak of the art of Herodotus, Thucydides, Xenophon, -Tacitus, and a few others, and cannot cease to admire their narratives -as classical products of the art of human language. - -(_ββ_) It is nevertheless true that even these fine examples of -historical composition do not belong to free Art. We may add that we -should have no poetry even though we were to assume with such works the -external form of poetry, the measure or rhyme of verse and so forth. -It is not exclusively the manner in which history is written, but the -nature of its _content_, which makes it prose. Let us look at this -rather more closely. - -Genuine history, both in respect to aim and performance, only begins -at the point where the heroic age, which in its origination it is the -part of poetry and art to vindicate, ceases, for the reason that we -have here the moment when the distinct outlines and prose of life, in -its actual conditions, no less than the way they are conceived and -represented, come into being. Herodotus does not for instance describe -the Greek expedition to Troy, but the Persian wars, and takes pains, -in a variety of ways, with tedious research and careful reflection, to -base the narrative proposed on genuine knowledge. The Hindoos, indeed -we may say the Orientals generally, with almost the single exception -of the Chinese, do not possess this instinct of prose sufficiently -to produce a genuine history. They invariably digress either into -an interpretation and reconstruction of facts of a purely religious -character, or such as are fantastic inventions. The element of prose -then native to the historical age of any folk may be briefly described -as follows. - -In the _first_ place, in order that we may have history we must -presuppose a common life, whether we consider the same on its religious -side, or that of a polity, with its law, institutions, and the like, -established on their own account, and possessing originally or in their -subsequent modification a validity as laws or conditions of general -application. - -It is out of such a common life, _secondly_, that we mark the birth -of definite activities for the preservation or change of the same, -which may be of universal import, and in fact constitute the end or -motive of their continuance, and to complete and carry into effect -which we have to presuppose individuals fitted for such a task. These -individuals are great and eminent in so far as they show themselves, -through their effective personality, in co-operation with the common -end, which underlies the ideal notion of the conditions which confront -them: they are little when they fail to rise in stature to the demand -thus made on their energy: they are depraved when, instead of facing as -combatants of the practical needs of the times,[10] they are content -merely to give free rein to an individual force which is, with its -implied caprice, foreign to all such common ends. Where, however, any -of such conditions obtain we do not have either a genuine content or a -condition of the world such as we established in the first part of our -inquiry as essential to the art of poetry. Even in the case of personal -greatness the substantive aim of its devotion is to a large or less -extent something given, presupposed, and enforced upon it, and to that -extent the unity of individuality is excluded, wherein the universal, -that is the entire personality should be selfidentical, an end -exclusively for itself, an independent whole in short. For however much -these individuals discover their aims in their own resources, it is for -all that not the freedom or lack of it in their souls and intelligence, -in other words the vital manifestation of their personality, but the -accomplished end, and its result as operative upon the actual world -already there, and essentially independent of such individuality, which -constitutes the object of history. And, moreover, from a further point -of view we find manifested in the historical condition the play of -contingency, that breach between what is implicitly substantive and -the relativity of particular events and occurrences, no less than of -the specific subjectivity of characters displayed in their personal -passions, opinions and fortunes, which in this prosaic mode of life -present far more eccentricity and variation than do the wonders of -poetry, which through all diversity must remain constant to what is -valid in all times and places. - -And _finally_, in respect to the actual execution of affairs within -the cognisance of history we find here again the introduction of -a prosaic element, if we contrast it with the impulse of genuine -poetry, partly in the division asserted by personal idiosyncracy -from a consciousness of laws, principles, maxims and so forth, which -is thereby necessarily absorbed in the universal condition or fact; -and in part also the realization of the ends proposed involve much -preparation and arrangement, the means to effect which extend far, -and embrace many necessary or subservient relations, which have to be -readjusted and adapted, in order to carry out the course proposed, -with intelligence, prudence and prosaic circumspection. The work in -short cannot be undertaken offhand, but only to a large extent after -extensive introduction. The result of this is that the particular acts -of execution, which, it is here assumed, come into effect for the _one_ -main purpose, are often either wholly contingent in respect to their -content, and remain without ideal union, or are asserted under the -form of a practical utility regulated by a mind dominated by the aims -proposed; in other words, they do not proceed unmediated from the core -of free and independent life itself.[11] - -(_γγ_) The historian then has no right to expunge these prosaic -characteristics of his content, or to convert them into others more -_poetical;_ his narrative must embrace what lies actually before him -and in the shape he finds it without amplification,[12] or at least -poetical transformation. However much, therefore, it may become a -part of his labours to make the ideal significance and spirit of an -epoch, a people, or the particular event depicted, the ideal focus -and bond which holds all together in one coherent whole, he is not -entitled to make either the conditions presented him, the characters or -events, wholly subordinate to such a purpose, though he may doubtless -remove from his survey what is wholly contingent and without serious -significance; he must, in short, permit them to appear in all their -objective contingency, dependence and mysterious caprice. No doubt in -biography the full animation of personality and an independent unity is -conceivably possible, because in such a work the individual, no less -than all which proceeds from him and is operative in moulding such -a figure, is throughout the focus of the composition. A historical -character is, however, exclusively one of two opposed extremes. For -although we deduce a unity of subject from the same, none the less from -another point of view various events and transactions obtrude, which -in part are without any essential ideal connection, and in part come -into contact with such individuality without any free co-operation on -the part of the same, and to this extent involve the same within the -contingency of such an external condition. So, for example, Alexander -is without question a personality, pre-eminent above all others of his -epoch, and one which, in virtue of its unique forces, falling as they -do in accord with contemporary world conditions, becomes engaged in the -Persian invasion. The continent of Asia none the less, which Alexander -vanquishes, is in the capricious variety of its nationalities a whole -united by no necessary bond.[13] Historical events pass before him as -the bare panorama of purely objective phenomena. And, finally, if the -historian adds to his survey his private reflections as a philosopher, -attempting thereby to grasp the absolute grounds for such events, -rising to the sphere of that divine being, before which all that is -contingent vanishes and a loftier mode of necessity is unveiled, he -is none the less debarred, in reference to the actual conformation of -events, from that exclusive right of poetry, namely, to accept this -substantive resolution as the fact of most importance. To poetry alone -is the liberty permitted to dispose without restriction of the material -submitted in such a way that it becomes, even regarded on the side of -external condition, conformable with ideal truth. - -(_β_) _Secondly_, _oratory_ appears to have a closer affinity with the -freedom of art. - -(_αα_) For although the orator avails himself of the opportunity for -and content of his effort out of actual life and definite circumstances -and opinions, all that he utters remains none the less, in the _first_ -place, subject to his free choice. His personal aims and views are -immanent therein, in virtue of which he can make the same a complete -and living expression of his personality. And, _secondly_, the -development of the subject of his oration and the mode of delivery -depends entirely on himself, so that the impression he makes is as -though we received in his speech a wholly independent expression -of mind. And, _finally_, it is his vocation not merely to address -himself to the trained or ordinary intelligence of his hearers, but to -work upon their entire humanity, their emotions, no less than their -judgment. The substance of what he has to say and in which he strives -to awake interest, is not merely the abstract aspect of it, nor is it -this aspect of his main purpose, in the fulfilment of which he invites -co-operation, but rather for the most part also a definite and very -real thing. For this reason the substance of the orator's address, -while embracing what is essentially substantive in its character, -ought equally to grasp his general principle under the form of its -specific manifestation, and render the same intelligible to conscious -life in the full concrete sense of the term. The orator then must not -merely satisfy our understanding with the cogency of his deductions -and conclusions, but has it in his power to address the soul itself, -to rouse human passion and carry it captive, to absorb the whole -attention, and by such means, through all the avenues of spirit, to -ravish and convince his audience. - -(_ββ_) Despite, however, such considerations, looked at rightly we find -that it is just in the arts of oratory that this apparent freedom is -almost wholly subordinate to the rule of practical _utility_. In other -words what confers upon public speaking its unique motive force is not -implied in the particular purpose, to promote which the speech is made; -we must refer it to the general principle, the laws, rules, axioms -which the particular case suggests, and which are already essentially -present in this form of universality, partly, as actual laws of the -State, partly too as ethical, juristic or religious maxims, emotions, -dogmas, and so forth. The particular circumstance and end, which we -find here as the point of departure, and this universal are in every -respect separate from each other, and this separation is the relation -maintained throughout. No doubt the orator intends to make these two -aspects unite: what, however, in poetry, in so far as poetry is really -present, attests as already from the first accomplished, is present in -oratory merely as the personal aim of the orator, the fulfilment of -which lies outside the speech itself altogether. - -The only alternative we have left us is a process of _subsumation_, -whereby the phenomenon, the actual and defined thing, here the concrete -case or end, is not unravelled in immediate unity with the universal as -such, and freely from its own substance, but only receives validity by -virtue of its dependence upon general principles and in its relation to -legislative acts, morality, customs, and the like, which on their own -account possess independent stability. It is not the spontaneous life -of the fact in its concrete manifestation, but the prosaic division -between notion and reality, a mere relation of both to each other and -a mere demand for their union, which constitutes the fundamental type -under consideration. - -Such a process of thought is frequently adopted by the religious -teacher. For him religious doctrines, in their widest connotation, and -the principles of morality or of philosophy, political or otherwise, -which follow in their train, are in fact precisely the object whereto -he can refer cases of every conceivable variety; and they are this -for the reason that these doctrines have to be accepted, believed and -recognized by the religious consciousness as essentially and in their -own worth the substance of all particular appearance. No doubt the -preacher may at the same time appeal to our heart, may suffer the -divine laws to unveil from the depth of soul-life as their source, and -face to face with his audience may refer them to such a source. But it -is not in their absolutely individual guise that he must necessarily -present and assert them; on the contrary, he must bring effective -universality to consciousness under precisely this form of commands, -promises and maxims of faith. The oratory of courts of law is even -a better illustration. Here we find in addition the twofold point -of view, that while on the one hand all turns most obviously on the -particular case, yet conversely the subsumation of this case to general -considerations and laws is equally a necessity. As regards the _first_ -aspect, we may remark that the element of prose is already implied in -the enforced investigation of the actual facts and the collocation -and able reconstruction of all singular circumstances and accidents; -a process such as this at once opens our eyes to the poverty involved -in this investigation of the truth of such a legal case, no less than -the tedious ingenuity engaged in its display, if we contrast it at -least with the free creations of poetry. We have in fact to carry our -analysis of the concrete facts to a yet further point. Such must not -merely be traced in a series that does justice to all features, but -every one of such features, no less than the whole case, have to be -referred back to the statute accepted from the first as of independent -validity. At the same time, even in this prosaic affair, we still have -considerable scope for an impression on the heart and emotions. For it -is possible so to present the rightness or wrongness of the case under -discussion to the imagination that we are no longer bound to acquiesce -in the bare knowledge of the facts and a general conviction; on the -contrary, the case in its entirety is capable of becoming, by virtue of -the style adopted in its exposition, so marked with the characteristics -of personality to everyone who hears it, that no one can fail to -discover there a personal interest as of something which concerns -himself. - -_Secondly_, in the oratorical art, artistic delivery and elaboration -is not that which constitutes the ultimate and highest interest of the -speaker; he possesses in addition and beyond his art an ulterior aim, -that the entire form and working out of his discourse should rather -be used exclusively as the most effective means to promote an interest -which is outside. From this point of view the audience too have to be -influenced not on their own independent account, but the effort is -rather to excite emotion and conviction exclusively as a means toward -the attainment of the purpose, the fulfilment whereof the orator has -proposed from the first. The mode of presentation, therefore, ceases -to be an end for itself even to the listener; its claim becomes -exclusively that of a means to some particular conviction, or an -incentive to definite conclusions or activities. - -For these reasons from this point of view also the art loses its -freedom of form; it becomes a means to a purpose, to a further -demand[14], which, this is a _third_ point, in relation to the -_consequence_, is not satisfied in the actual speech itself and its -artistic handling. The composition of poetry on the contrary has no -other object than the manifestation and enjoyment of beauty. End -and accomplishment reposes here immediately and essentially in the -independent work, which for that reason is complete; artistic activity -is no means to an essentially ulterior result, but an end which at -once is rounded in itself by virtue of its own execution. In oratory -art receives merely a position of service to something collateral; -the genuine end is therefore not as such consonant with art, but of a -practical character, that is to say, instruction, edification, judgment -of legal matters or political affairs, and therewith a reference to -some matter which has first to happen, or to a decision not yet carried -out, but which, however, are in neither case terminated or completed -through the resultant effect of the art in question, but can only be -so in various ways after a contact with quite other activities. A -speech in fact may often conclude with a dissonance, which the hearer -has first to resolve as judge, and only then is able to act agreeably -with such a verdict. Just as, for example, the oratory of the pulpit -starts from the point of the unconverted soul, and in the result makes -the hearer pass judgment over his own self and his soul's condition. -In such a case religious conversion is the object of the preacher; but -whether such a conversion follows as a result of all the edification -and excellence of his eloquent exhortations, and thus the end proposed -is carried out, is a point of view which the sermon itself cannot deal -with; it must be perforce relegated to subsequent conditions. - -(_γγ_) In all these directions the notion of eloquence will fall rather -under the main principle of utility than maintain itself within the -free and organized whole of the poetical art-product. In short the -orator must necessarily and above all make it his mark to subordinate -the whole, no less than the parts, to that purpose in his mind, from -which his effort proceeds, a process in which the self-consistent -independence of his exposition disappears, and in lieu of which we must -assume a relation of service to a definite end that ceases to be of -artistic significance. And above all, inasmuch as the object in view -is one of practical influence upon human life, he must keep throughout -before his mind the nature of the place in which he speaks, the -degree of education, the receptive powers, and, in short, the general -atmosphere of his audience, that he may not fall short of the practical -success desired through an inability to meet the local conditions of -the moment, and the idiosyncrasies of his audience. By reason of this -very attachment to external conditions it is impossible that either -the entirety of his address or its parts can any longer originate in -a free artistic activity[15]; it will constantly tend in its detailed -elaboration to appropriate utilitarian points of association, and be -dominated by conceptions of cause and effect, and other categories more -proper to science. - -(_c_) And, _thirdly_, we may, as flowing from the above distinction -between what is really poetical and the creations of the historian and -the orator, establish the following points pertinent to the poetical -composition itself. - -(_α_) We found that in history the element of prose consisted above -all in this that however much the content thereof could be ideally -substantive and possessed of a downright penetrative power, the -actual form of the same was, however, invariably accompanied with -many conditions of relative validity, massed together with much that -was contingent, and finally often referable to caprice simply as its -ground, aspects of immediate objective fact which the historian was not -entitled to translate into the terms of a reality of profounder grasp. - -(_αα_) The effort of such a transfiguration is in fact a fundamental -_desideratum_ of the poetical art when it, so far as its material is -concerned, steps into the arena of history. It is its business in short -in such a case to discover the mere ideal core and significance of an -event, action, or a national type, a famous historical personality, -and as decisively to brush aside aspects of contingency, everything in -fact purely incidental or indifferent, which plays round such types or -individuals, and stands to them in a purely relative connection. It -has then to establish, in the place of the circumstances and traits -it rejects, others which reveal the ideal essence of the facts in -their clarity, to the intent that in this transfigured presence such -shall so discover concrete truth in its fulness that the reason, -which has hitherto lain concealed, though implied in them, shall now -for the first time assert itself as evolved and declared in complete -realization. By this means alone poetry is able in the proposed work to -make its content coalesce in the secure unity of a centre, able as such -to round and unfold itself in a whole. And this is possible because -it not only is operative as a more effective bond between the parts, -but also because, without compromising the unity of the whole, all its -varied particularity is suffered to assert its claim to an independent -impression. - -(_ββ_) Poetry may in this respect make a yet further advance, when, it -accepts as its main content, in lieu of the material and significance -of the historical fact, some fundamental idea, some human collision -in general associated with it in a close or more remote affinity, and -employs the historical _factum_ and personages, everything local -in short, merely in the guise or garment of individualization. The -difficulty to be encountered here is twofold: either the historically -ascertained data, when appropriated by the composition, may fall out of -line with the fundamental idea; or, conversely, it may be that the poet -in some measure retains these data, but also too in essential features -moulds them conformably to his purposes, and by doing this work fails -to harmonize the element of stability with that of original design -which were both essential to our conception of the poetical product. -To dispel such an opposition and to reassert the accordant note able -to do this is a difficult matter; it is none the less necessary, for -objective reality has itself too an unquestionable title to what is -essential in the character of its appearance. - -(_γγ_) We may extend the reach of poetry yet further and we shall -still find that the demand to be met is the same. In other words, -all that the art of poetry represents in external local condition, -characterization, actions, passions, situations, conflicts, events, -and human destiny, all this material is borrowed, far more so in fact -than is generally credited, from the facts of life itself. This being -so, poetry here too is on the historical arena; and, consequently, its -deviations or variations of such data must, in this field also, find -their point of departure in the rational core of the facts in question -and the demand of the art to discover for this ideal essence a form -that exhibits it with greatest adequacy and life. And this must not be -sought for in the poverty of a superficial knowledge, an inability to -penetrate what is really vital in fact, or in the moods of caprice and -with the craving after the quaint or perverse ingenuities of a spurious -originality. - -(_β_) And further, as already stated, oratory is allied to prose on -account of the practical end which is thereby proposed, and, to carry -out which, it is forced to admit to the full the claims of utility. - -(_αα_) In this respect poetry must take care to detach itself from -any end of this kind outside Art's domain, and the claim of artistic -enjoyment simply; that it may not fall into the sphere of prose. For if -any purpose of this sort is made to appear of essential importance, as -part of the entire conception and presentation, the composition at once -descends from that loftier region, in whose free atmosphere it floats -on its own account and on no other, and is drawn into that of relation -merely. As a result of this we have either a breach made between the -fundamental aim of art and the ends of ulterior intendments; or art -is used as a means simply, contradicts its substantive notion, and -becomes the menial of utility. The edifying effusions of many church -hymns are of this character. Particular ideas are simply admitted on -religious grounds, and receive a style of composition which is alien -to the beauty of poetry. And, speaking generally, poetry, simply as -poetry, has no right to edify in a _religious_ sense, or at least -_exclusively_ in this sense. If it does so we are carried into a -region, which no doubt possesses relationship with both poetry and art, -but is for all that distinct from it. We may say the same of teaching -generally, ethical instruction, political treatises, or writings of all -kinds written for our momentary recreation and enjoyment. All these -are objects, to whose attainment the art of poetry is, or can be more -than any other, contributory. But such contributions must not enter -into the purpose, if the spirit of the work is to assert itself freely -in its own character. In the poetical effort it is only what is really -poetic, eliminated from all that is foreign to this quality, which must -remain paramount as the end proposed and accomplished. And in fact such -ulterior aims as the above can be carried out far more appropriately by -quite other means. - -(_ββ_) The art of poetry, however, from the converse point of view, -should strive to assert no absolute and isolated position; it ought, -as a part of life itself, to enter freely into life. Already in the -first part of this inquiry we found how many points of contact there -were between art and ordinary existence, whose content and phenomenal -appearance are repeated in its content and form. In poetry this vital -relation to actual existence and its specific circumstances, private -or public events, appears with most obvious variety in the so-called -_poems d'occasion._ With a broader interpretation of the expression we -may define as such most poetic compositions; in the more narrow and -correct meaning of the term, however, we should restrict it to those -productions whose origin is traceable to a single event of present -time, which it is the express aim of the poet to emphasize, adorn, and -celebrate. In this weaving together of the actual threads of life, -however, poetry tends once more to decline to a position of dependence; -it is therefore by no means unusual for writers on aesthetic to attach -a purely subordinate value to poetry of this class in general, although -as to a part of it, notably in the case of the lyric, we find here the -most famous compositions. - -(_γγ_) The question consequently arises by virtue of what poetry may -be enabled to still maintain its independence even in the conflict -above described. The answer is simple. It must regard and assert the -occasional facts it borrows from life not as its essential aim, while -it is itself merely accepted as a means. Rather the reverse process -is the right one, which absorbs the material of such reality within -its own substance, and informs and elaborates the same conformably to -the claims of an unfettered imagination. In other words poetry has -nothing to do with the accidental or incidental fact as such. This -material supplies the external opportunity, that is the stimulus which -prompts the poet to draw upon his own profounder penetration and more -transparent mode of presentment: by this means he creates from his own -resources, as something newborn, that which, without such mediation, -would have, in the plain and blunt particular case, wholly failed to -impress us with the free spirit he communicates. - -(_γ_) In conclusion then we may affirm that every genuine work of -poetry is an essentially infinite organism.[16] In content rich, it -unfolds this content under a mode of appearance which is adapted -to it. It is permeated with a principle of unity, but not one -referable to the form of utility, which subordinates the particular -to itself in an abstract relation, but rather one that absorbs the -same in the singularity relevant to one identical and entirely vital -self-consistency, in which the whole, without any visible intention, is -sphered within one rounded and essentially self-enclosed completeness. -It is indeed replete with the _materia_ of the visible world, but -is not on that account placed, either in relation to its content or -determinate existence, under a condition of dependence to any one -circle of life. Rather it freely creates out of its own plenitude, -striving to clothe the ideal notion of its material in its genuine -manifestation as truth, and to bring the world of external fact into -reconciled accord with its own most ideal substance. - - - - -3. THE CREATIVE IMPULSE OF THE POET[17] - - -I have already discussed at considerable length, in the first part of -this work, the talent and genius, the enthusiasm and originality of the -artist. I will consequently merely touch upon one or two points in the -present reference to the art of poetry which appear of importance, if -we contrast this activity as effective here with that operative in the -plastic arts and music. - -(_a_) The architect, sculptor, painter and musician have to deal -with an entirely concrete and sensuous material, in and through -which each has to elaborate his creations. The limitations of this -material condition the specific form that the type of the conception -no less than the mode of artistic execution assume. The more fixed -and predetermined the general lines of his definition are upon which -the artist has to concentrate himself, the more specialized becomes -the talent required for the assertion of the same in any one and no -other mode of presentment; and we may add in the powers of technical -execution which accompany it. The talents adapted to the poetic art, -regarding the same from the point of view of an ideal envisagement -in a specific _materia_, is subordinated in a less degree to such -conditions; it is consequently more open to universal practice, and -in this respect more independent. The need here at least is merely -that of a gift for imaginative creation. Its limitation is confined -merely to this, namely, that for the reason that this art is expressed -in language, it has to guard itself on the one hand from deliberate -rivalry with external objects in their sensuous completeness, in -the form, that is, where we find the plastic artist apprehends his -subject-matter in its external configuration: and, from a further point -of view, it is unable to rest in the unspoken ideality, the emotional -tones of which constitute the realm of music. In these respects the -problem proposed to the poet, if we contrast him with artists in other -arts, is at once more _facile_ and more _difficult_ It is more easy, -because, although the poet, in the poetical elaboration of speech, must -possess a trained talent, he is spared the relatively more manifold -task of triumph over technical difficulties necessary in the other -arts. It is more difficult because, just in proportion as poetry is -less able to complete the objective envisagement, it is compelled -to seek some compensation for this loss on the side of sense in the -genuine core of Art's own ideality, in the depth of imagination and a -really artistic mode of conception. - -(_b_) For this reason the poet is, in the _second_ place, constrained -to penetrate into all the wealth of the spiritual content, and to lay -bare to the vision of mind what is concealed in its depths. For however -much in the other arts, too, the ideal must shine forth through its -corporeal manifestation, and does so in life itself shine forth, yet -the medium of speech remains that most open to intelligence, and the -means most adequate to its revelation. It is the one medium able to -grasp and declare everything whatever that flows through or is present -in consciousness, whether regarded in its ascent or profundity. In -consequence of this the poet finds himself confronted with difficulties -which the other arts are not called upon to overcome or satisfy to -the like degree. In other words, for the very reason that poetry is -actually operative in the world of idea or imagination itself, and is -not concerned with fashioning for its images an objective existence -independent of such ideality, it is placed in an element or sphere in -which the religious, scientific and everyday consciousness are active; -it must therefore take care to make no excursion into the domain or -mode of conception proper to any of these, or to get mixed up with -them. No doubt in the case of every art we find points of contact with -other arts. Artistic creation of every kind proceeds from _one_ mind or -spirit, which comprehends in itself all spheres of self-conscious life. -But with the other arts the distinction of conception in each case is -in its mode complete, for the reason that this, in its ideal creation, -persists throughout in permanent relation to the execution of its -images in a definite sensuous material, and consequently is absolutely -distinct, no less from the forms of the religious consciousness, -than it is from the thinking of science and the intelligence of -ordinary life. Poetry, on the contrary, avails itself, in its manner -of objective communication, of the very means adopted in these spheres -of mental activity, that is to say, human speech; it finds itself, -consequently, otherwise placed than are the plastic arts and music, -which occupy a different field of conception and expression. - -(_c_) _Thirdly_, we have the final demand made upon the poet for the -most profound and manifold transfusion of the subject-matter of his -creations with the animating soul of life, because it is his art which -is capable of absorbing most profoundly the entire fulness of the -spiritual content. The plastic artist, in a similar way, must apply -himself to a transfusion of ideal expression in the _external form_ of -architectonic, plastic and the forms peculiar to painting. The musician -must likewise rivet his attention on the _inner soul_ concentrated -in emotion and passion and their outpouring in melodic expression. -In both cases the artist must be steeped in the most ideal intention -and substance of his content. But the sphere of the poet's creative -activity extends yet further, for the reason that he has not merely -to elaborate an ideal world of soul-life and the self-conscious mind. -He has, in addition, to discover for this ideal realm an external -mode of envisagement fitted thereto, a mode by virtue of which that -ideal totality shines through in more irresistible perfection than is -possible in the case of other arts. It is incumbent upon him to know -human existence, both as soul-life and objective life, to receive into -his inmost being the full breadth of the world and its shows, and to -have felt through it there, penetrated, enlarged, deepened and revealed -to himself all it implies. Only after that, and in order that he may -find it in his power to create, as from his own spiritual experience -outwards, a free whole,--ay, even in the case where he restricts his -effort to a comparatively narrow and particular range,--he must have -liberated himself from all embarrassment with his subject-matter, -whether of a _technical_[18] character or otherwise, able in short -to survey the ideal and external aspects thereof with the same free -glance. From the point of view of _instinctive_ creative vigour[19] -we may in this respect pre-eminently praise the Mahomedan poets of -the East. The starting-point in such compositions is a freedom which, -even in the moment of passion, remains aloof from such passion, and in -all the variety of its interests retains exclusively throughout the -_one_ substance as its veritable core, in contrast to which everything -else appears small and transitory, and nothing of finality is left -either to passion or lust. This is a philosophical outlook, a relation -of spirit to the facts of the world, which comes more readily to age -than youth. For in old age no doubt the interests of life are still -present; but they are not there with the urgency of youthful passion, -but rather in the guise of shadows, and to this extent are more readily -conformable to ideal relations such as Art demands. In opposition to -the ordinary view that youth with its warmth and vigour is the fairest -season for poetic creation, we may rather, at least from this point of -view, maintain just the opposite, that the ripest season belongs to the -autumn of old age, provided that it is able to preserve its energies -of outlook and emotion. It is only to a blind old man, Homer, that we -ascribe those miraculous poems which have come down to us under that -name. And we may also affirm of our Goethe that only in old age, after -he had fully succeeded in liberating his genius from all restricting -limitations of sense, that he gave us his most exalted creations.[20] - - - -[Footnote 1: That is, the essential notion (_Begriff_) of Art -generally.] - -[Footnote 2: _Substantiellen_, _i.e.,_ the form that most corresponds -to its essence.] - -[Footnote 3: _Theoretisch._ Hegel doubtless has the Greek word in his -mind. It is a _Bildung_ for the mind rather than with a view to action. -It assumes contemplation rather than volition.] - -[Footnote 4: It is not quite clear whether Hegel means by _Bedürfniss_ -the need of spiritual life, or the profounder demand of reality. It -might stand for either.] - -[Footnote 5: That is, the _Vernünft._] - -[Footnote 6: _Das individualisirte Vernünftige_, _i.e._, reason as -realized in concrete personality.] - -[Footnote 7: _In seiner Gediegenheit und schlagenden Fassung. -Gediegenheit_ here thorough grasp. _Schlagenden_ may possibly mean -arresting character of the conception rather than definite, precise.] - -[Footnote 8: That is, the notion.] - -[Footnote 9: By _aus dem Geiste_ it is quite possible that there is no -reference to individual genius. In that case the translation would be -"in terms of human intelligence," _i.e._, from the resources of human -reason.] - -[Footnote 10: This seems to be the meaning of _die Sache der Zeit._] - -[Footnote 11: Lit., "They do not come forth from self-substantive and -immediately free vitality (Lebendigkeit)." _Lebendigkeit_ is here the -ideal and creative force or bond of soul-life as above described.] - -[Footnote 12: The German word would imply here an interpretation of -symbolic or at least ideal significance.] - -[Footnote 13: This I presume is the general meaning of the sentence: -_Asien aber, das er besiegt, ist in der vielfachen Willkühr seiner -Einzelnen Völkerschaften nur ein zufälliges Ganzes._] - -[Footnote 14: _Ein Sollen._] - -[Footnote 15: It is possible that too much stress is laid on this line -of difference. The fundamental difference between oratory and poetry -is that of form. At least it can hardly be denied that the power of -the orator to meet the demands of local conditions is a vital feature -of his art, that in this respect a Demosthenes is greater than Burke. -It is surely a mistake to assume that such limitations in themselves -or necessarily are an obstacle to creative genius. It is rather the -sign of supreme oratorical power that it can mould them and command -them in conjunction with its more majestic spirit. In this lies an -essential part of the art itself, just as a sculptor or a painter, such -as Tintoret in the S. Rocco Scuola, dominates the defects of local -condition.] - -[Footnote 16: Infinite, that is, not in the temporal sense, but as a -complete and self-realized whole.] - -[Footnote 17: Hegel calls it "the poetising subjectivity"; that is, the -personal activity essential to poetic composition.] - -[Footnote 18: _Practischen_.] - -[Footnote 19: This appears to be the meaning of _des Naturells_.] - -[Footnote 20: This is perhaps less true of Goethe than it is of -either Milton or Shakespeare. It is possible that Hegel thought more -highly of the second part of "Faust" as art than do the majority of -modern critics. But the truth is there, if subject to a good deal of -qualification in respect to certain aspects of poetry. As Meredith says: - - - "Verily now is our season of seed, - Now in our Autumn." - - -And Meredith was not one to do less than justice to the superb Dream of -imaginative youth.] - - - - -II - - -THE EXPRESSION OF POETRY - - -The field of vision which first will occupy our attention, but the -boundless expanse of which we can only traverse with a few general -observations, is that which concerns the poetic generally, the content -no less than the mode of conception and organic association adapted -to the poetic work of art. This background will help to emphasize the -_second_ aspect of our subject, which is _poetic expression_ more -strictly, the idea in the ideal objectivity of the word appropriated by -it as symbol of the image, and the melodious vehicle of its speech. - -We may infer the nature of the relation between poetic expression -generally and the mode of presentment proper to the other arts from our -previous examination of the characteristics of the poetic art. Language -and the sounds of words are neither a symbol of spiritual conceptions, -nor an adequate mode of projecting ideality under the condition of -spatial objectivity in the sense applicable to the corporeal forms of -sculpture and painting, nor yet an intonation in musical sound of the -entire soul. They are an abstract _sign_ simply. As the vehicle of the -poetic image or conception, however, it is necessary that this side -also, in theory no less than deliberate elaboration, appear as distinct -from the kind of expression appropriate to prose. - -We may for this purpose emphasize with more detail three main points of -distinction. - -Our _first_ point is this, that although poetic expression is -throughout exclusively embodied in articulate words, and apparently -as such is simply related to human speech, yet in so far as the words -themselves are merely abstract signs representative of _ideas,_ the -true source of poetic speech is not to be discovered in the selection -of particular words, and in the manner they are associated in sentences -and elaborated phrases, nor in harmonious rhythm, rhyme and so forth, -but in the type of _conception_ employed. We have, in short, to look -for our point of departure for the constructive use of expression in -the choice of the idea or image, find our first and foremost question -will be what kind of conception will give us an expression suitable to -poetry. _Secondly_, however, it remains the fact that the imaginative -idea essentially pertinent to poetry is exclusively made objective -in _language._ We have consequently to investigate the expression of -speech according to its purely verbal aspect, in the light of which -poetic words are distinguishable from those of prose, poetic phrases -from those of our ordinary life and prosaic thought, abstracting in the -first instance the mere sound of them to our sense of hearing. - -_Finally_, we have to recognize the fact that poetry is a mode of -articulate speech, the sounding word, which in its temporal duration no -less than its actual sound, must receive a definite configuration, one -that implies the presence of time-measure, rhythm, melodious sound and -rhyme. - - - - -I. THE POETIC CONCEPT OR IDEA - - -What in the plastic arts the sensuous visible _form_ expressed by -means of stone and colour is, or what in the realm of music animating -strains of harmony and melody are, this--we must repeatedly insist on -the fact--can only be, in respect to poetic expression--the idea or -image itself. The force of the poet's creation centres consequently, -in the fact that the art moulds a content in an ideal medium, and -without bringing before us the actual forms of external Nature and the -progressions of musical sound; by doing so, therefore, it translates -the objective presence accepted by the other arts into an ideal form, -which Spirit or intelligence expresses for the imagination under the -mode which is and must remain that of our conscious life. - -A distinction of this very character was already insisted on when we -had occasion previously to establish a distinction between the earliest -type, of poetry and its later modes of reconstruction from the data of -prose. - -(_a_) Imaginative poetry in its _origin_ is not as yet a consciously -distinct form from those extremes of ordinary conscious life, one of -which brings everything to vision under the mode of immediate and -therewith contingent singularity, without grasping the ideal essence -implied therein, and the manifestation of the same; while the other, -in one direction, differentiates concrete existence into its various -characteristics, making use of abstract generalization, and in another -avails itself of the scientific faculty as the correlating and -connecting focus of such abstractions. The idea is only poetical in so -far as it holds these extremes in unviolable mediation, and thereby is -able to maintain a position of genuine stability midway between the -vision of ordinary consciousness and that of abstract thought. - -In general terms we may define the poetic imagination as _plastic_[1] -in so far as it brings before our vision concrete reality rather -than the abstract generalization, and in the place of contingent -existence an appearance of such a kind that we recognize what is -substantive immediately in it by virtue of its embodiment itself and -its individuality, and as inseparable from it, and by virtue of this -are able to grasp the concrete conception-of the fact in question no -less than its determinate existence as one and the same vital whole -reposing in the ideal medium of the imagination. In this respect we -find a fundamental distinction between that whereof the plastic or -constructive idea is the source and all that is otherwise made vivid -to us through other means of expression. The same truth will appear -to us, if we analyse what we mean, by mere reading. We understand what -the letters mean, which are indicative points for articulate utterance, -by the mere act of sight, and without being further obliged to listen -to their sound. Only the illiterate reader will find it necessary to -speak aloud the separate words that he may understand their sense. -But in the case of poetry just what seems to be here the mark of -stupidity is an indication of beauty and excellence. Poetry is not -satisfied with an abstract effort of apprehension, nor does it bring -objects before us as we find them in the form of reflection and in the -unimaginative generalization of our memory. It helps us to approach -the essential notion in its positive existence, the generic as clothed -in its specific individuality. In the view of ordinary common sense I -understand by language, both in its impression on my hearing or sight, -the meaning in its immediacy, in other words, without receiving its -image before the mind. The phrases, for instance, "the sun," or "in the -morning," possess each of them no doubt a distinct sense; but neither -the Dawn or the Sun are themselves made present to our vision. When, -however, the poet says: "When now the dawning Eos soared heavenwards -with rosy fingers," here without question we have the concrete fact -brought home to us. The poetical expression adds, however, yet more, -for it associates with the object recognized a vision of the same, -or we should rather say the purely abstract relation of knowledge -vanishes, and the real definition takes its place. In the same way -take the phrase, "Alexander conquered the Persian empire." Here, no -doubt, so far as content is concerned, we have a concrete conception; -the many-sided definition of it, however, expressed here in the word -"victory," is concentrated in a featureless and pure abstraction, which -fails to image before us anything of the appearance and reality of the -exploit accomplished by Alexander. This truth applies to every kind of -similar expression. We recognize the bare fact; but it remains pale and -dun, and from the point of view of individual existence undetermined -and abstract. The poetic conception consequently embraces the fulness -of the objective phenomenon as it essentially exists, and is able to -elaborate the same united with the essential ideality of the fact in a -creative totality. - -What follows as a primary result of this is that it is of interest to -the imagination to _linger_ near the external characteristics of the -fact, to the extent at least that it seeks to express the same in its -positive reality, deems this as essentially worthy of contemplation and -insists on this very attitude. - -Poetry is consequently in its manner of expression _descriptive_ -Description is, however, not the right word for it. We are, in fact, -accustomed to accept as descriptive, and in contrast to the abstract -definition, in which a content is otherwise brought home to our -intelligence, much that the poet passes by, so that from the point -of view of ordinary speech poetic composition can only appear as a -roundabout way and a useless superfluity. The poet must, however, -manage to bring his imagination to bear upon the explication of the -actual phenomenon he is attempting to depict with a vital interest.[2] -In this way, for instance, Homer adds a descriptive epithet to every -hero. So Achilles is the swift-footed, the Achaeans bright-greaved, -Hector as of the glancing helm, Agamemnon the lord of peoples, and so -forth. The name is no doubt descriptive of a personality, but the name -alone brings nothing further to our vision. To have some distinct idea -of this we require further attributes. We have in fact similar epithets -attached by Homer to other objects, which are essential to our vision -of the epic, such as sea, ships, sword and others, epithets which seize -and place before us an essential quality of the particular object, -depicting it more precisely, and which enable us to apprehend the fact -in its concrete appearance. - -_Secondly_, we must distinguish such reconstruction of actual facts -from definition _wholly imagined_. This offers a further point of view -for discussion. The real image merely places before us the fact in the -reality it possesses. The expression of the poet's imagination, on -the contrary, does not restrict itself to the object in its immediate -appearance; it proceeds to depict something over and above this, by -means of which the significance of the former picture is made clear -to our mind. Metaphors, illustrations, similes become in this way -an essential feature of poetic creation. We have thereby a kind of -veil attached to the content, which concerns us, and which, by its -difference from it, serves in part as an embellishment, and in part as -a further unfolding of it, though it necessarily fails to be complete, -for the reason that it only applies to a specific aspect of this -content. The passage in which Homer compares Ajax, on his refusing to -fly, to an obstinate ass is an illustration. To a pre-eminent degree -oriental poetry possesses this splendour and wealth in pictorial -comparisons. There are two main reasons of this. First, its symbolic -point of view makes such a search for aspects of affinity inevitable, -and in the universality of its centres of significance it offers a -large field of concrete phenomena capable of comparison; secondly, on -account of the sublimity of its predominant outlook there is a tendency -to apply the entire variety of all that is most brilliant and glorious -in its motley show to the embellishment of the One Supreme, which is -held before the mind as the sole One to be exalted. This object of the -imagination, moreover, is not to be apprehended as merely the work -of fanciful caprice or comparison, possessing as such nothing in it -essentially actual and present. On the contrary the transmutation of -all particular existence into further existence in this central idea -grasped and clothed by the imagination is rather to be understood as -equivalent to the assertion that there is nothing else essentially -present, nothing that otherwise can put forward a claim to substantive -reality. The belief in the world as we apprehend it with the vision of -ordinary common sense is converted into a belief in the imagination, -for which the only world that verily exists is that which the poetic -consciousness has created. Conversely we have the romantic imagination, -which is ready enough to express itself in metaphor, because in its -vision what is external is for the essentially secluded life of the -soul only accepted as something incidental, something that is unable -adequately to express its own reality. To reclothe this consequently -unreal externality with profound emotion, with all the fulness of -detail envisioned, or with the play of humour upon the conjunction of -such opposites is an impulse, which constrains and charms romantic -poetry to ever novel discoveries. The object of importance here is -not so much to make the fact clear and distinct to the vision; on the -contrary the metaphorical employment of these outlying phenomena is -itself the aim proposed. The emotion of the poet concentrates itself as -the centre, which the environment enriches with its wealth; it absorbs -this as part of itself, adapts it with genius and wit to its adornment, -steeps it in its own life, and finds in this movement to and fro, this -elaboration and self-reflection of its creation its own source of -delight. - -(_b_) _Secondly_, we have the contrast present between the poetic mode -of conception and that of _prose._ The thing of importance in the -latter case is not that which is imaged, but the significance as such -which constitutes the content. It is on account of the latter that -the idea or image becomes a mere means to bring the content before -the mind. The composition of prose is therefore neither compelled to -place the more detailed reality of its objects before our vision, nor -to summon before us, as is the case with the metaphorical mode of -expression previously described, another idea which carries us beyond -the immediate object to be expressed. No doubt it is also necessary in -prose to indicate in firm and distinct outlines the positive appearance -of objects; but this is so not on account of their figurative -character,[3] but to meet a specific and practical purpose. Generally -speaking we may therefore affirm _accuracy_ to be from one point of -view the ruling principle of prose composition, and from another a -_clear definition_ and intelligibility of statement. In contrast to -this the language of metaphor and imagery is in general and relatively -less clear and more inaccurate. For in that mode of direct expression, -such as we have presented by our first form of the poetic conception, -the fact in its simplicity is carried away from our immediate -apprehension of it as a mere object into the actual world of concrete -fact, and we have to recognize it as a part of this, while in that -second and more oblique form some phenomenon of affinity merely and -one even aloof from the essential significance of our subject is made -present to us. We do not, therefore, wonder that prosaic commentators -of our poets have no easy task when they seek to separate, by means of -their scientific analyses, the image from the significance, to extract -their abstract content from the vital form, and thereby expound poetic -modes of composition to the prosaic mind. - -In poetry this accuracy, this rigour in unfolding the content as we -find it in its simplicity, is not alone the essential principle. On the -contrary, though prose is forced to confine its ideas on parallel lines -of almost mathematical precision with the nature of its content, poetry -introduces us to a different sphere altogether, that is, the _visible -appearance_ of the content itself, or other natural phenomena related -to it. For it is just this objective reality which in poetry ought to -appear, and while unquestionably from one point of view revealing that -content, yet at the same time from another it has to liberate itself -from the purely abstract content, it being essentially an object of the -art to direct attention to its actual existence in the visible world, -and to arouse the interest of mind in the forms of life itself. - -(_c_) If these three essential requirements of poetry are conditioned -by an age, in which the accuracy of the prosaic mind is become the -ordinary type of conscious life, the art, so far as its figurative -characteristics are concerned, is placed in a more difficult position. -That is to say, in such an epoch the type of penetration exercised by -conscious life is generally a separation of emotion and the ordinary -outlook from scientific thought, which either converts the ideal -and external material of feeling and perception into a stimulus of -knowledge and volition simply, or into a plastic medium subservient -to observation and action. In such a sphere poetry calls for energies -of more definite purpose in order that it may free itself from the -abstraction of the prevailing mental attitude and enter into the -world of concrete life. Where, however, such a goal is realized, not -only do we find that this breach between thinking, which makes for -generalization, and perception and feeling, which grasp the particular, -vanishes, but these last-mentioned modes of conscious life are, -together with their subject-matter and content, at the same time freed -from their exclusive relation of service; and the process culminates -in a victorious reconciliation of such modes with what is essential -universality. Inasmuch, however, as both the modes of poetic and -prosaic thought and general outlook are united in one and the same -conscious life, we find in it indications of trouble and derangement, -even possibly an actual conflict between the two, one which, as the -poetry of our times testifies, only genius of the highest order is able -successfully to deal with. Added to this there are other collateral -hindrances, which I only propose to define now, and that briefly, in -their relation to the figurative aspect already discussed. In other -words, if the prosaic intelligence takes the place of that creative -imagination which previously obtained, then and in that case the -rejuvenescence of the poetic faculty, both in all that is associated -with the positive expression of facts and what is metaphorical, readily -offers the semblance of artificiality, which even where it falls short -of actual purpose, is only with great difficulty reconciled with that -directness of immediate truth which is demanded. Much in fact which was -still fresh in former times, through repeated usage, and the habits -thus originated, has itself become gradually a custom and a part of -prosaic life. Moreover, where poetry strives after novelties in its -composition, we often find that, despite of itself, in its figurative -expressions and descriptions, even where it escapes the charge of -exaggeration and an excess of such material, it none the less leaves -an impression of artificiality, over nicety, a straining after what -is piquant and select, work incompatible with a simple and healthy -outlook and state of feeling. Such work tends to regard objects in an -artificial light and reckons on mere effect. Consequently it will not -permit their natural lighting and colour. Defects of this nature are -still more obvious in cases where, as a rule, the metaphorical type of -imaginative composition is exchanged[4] for the more direct, and our -poet is driven to outbid the forces of prose; and, in order to assert -an originality, plunges into the subtleties of or the fishing for -effects which have still some appearance of freshness. - - - - -2. VERBAL EXPRESSION - - -Inasmuch as the poetic imagination is distinct in its operation from -that of all other artists in virtue of the fact that it necessarily -clothes its images in words, and communicates the same through human -_speech_, it becomes imperative that throughout this process it should -endeavour to co-ordinate all its ideas, in the form which with most -completeness will disclose them, through the means articulate speech -thus places at its disposal. And, in short, we may affirm that the -poetic content only assumes the form of poetry in its restricted sense -after it has been actually embodied and rounded off in the vehicle of -words. - -This literary aspect of the art of poetry would readily supply us with -a boundless field of discursive observation and logical argument, which -I must, however, pass over in order that I may reserve space for more -weighty problems which lie before us. I merely propose, therefore, to -touch very briefly on a few fundamental points. - -(_a_) Human art should in all its associations place us on a ground -quite other than that we confront in ordinary life, or indeed in -our religious consciousness, active life, or the speculations of -philosophy. This is possible on the side of literary or verbal -expression only in so far as another mode of speech is adopted than -that obtaining in those other spheres. Art has therefore not only, -from one point of view, to avoid that in its instrument of expression -which will fail to rise above the trivialities of ordinary speech -and ordinary prose, but it must, furthermore, avoid falling into the -tone and manner of religious edification and philosophical research. -Above all it must keep aloof from the precise analyses and _methods_ -of the scientific faculty, the categories of pure thinking as we find -these illustrated in the logical forms of judgment and deduction. -These at once remove art from the imaginative realm to another region -altogether. But in all these respects it still remains a difficult -matter to determine the lines of boundary on which we may actually -affirm that poetry ends and prose begins. And in fact we may admit -absolute precision and confidence of statement to be impossible from -the nature of the case. - -(_b_) If we pass now to a discussion of the particular _means_ which -poetic-speech can appropriate as instrumental to its task the following -points appear to me pregnant and suggestive. - -(_α_) _First_, we find particular _words_ and exclamations[5] that are -obviously peculiar to poetry, whether they be used to ennoble it, or to -introduce the vulgarity and excess of comedy. We find a similar novelty -in the specific collocation of various words or turns of expression. In -such a field poetry is no doubt entitled on the one hand to borrow from -an obsolete nomenclature, obsolete at least in everyday speech, and on -the other to declare itself as pre-eminently an innovator, moulding -novel modes of speech. Such a field, provided only the vital genius of -the language is preserved, supplies material for astonishing boldness -of invention. - -(_β_) _Secondly_, we have the problem of verbal order. It is here that -we meet with those so-called figures of speech, in so far as, we should -add, the same have reference to verbal embodiment as such. The use of -these, however, easily degenerates into rhetoric and declamation in -the bad sense of these terms; the vitality of individual character -is destroyed where we find that such forms substitute a fixed and -artificial mode of expression for the genuine impulse of feeling or -passion, and thereby offer the very opposite to the personal, laconic -and broken utterance required, the utterance whose emotional depth -is incapable of saying much, and for this reason, in romantic poetry -especially, is of great effect as a presentment of suppressed[6] states -of soul. But generally speaking we may admit that the relative order -of words is an instrument of the external form of poetry of quite -extraordinary resource. - -(_γ_) _Thirdly_, we have still to draw attention to the construction -of _periods,_[7] which essentially embrace all the other aspects -of composition and which, by means of either their simple or more -involved course, their restless dislocations and distortions, or their -quick onward motion, their acceleration and their flood contribute so -materially to the reflection of such soul experience. And, in short, it -is essential that the external presentment in speech should mirror and -assume a character similar to the ideality of such experience in all -its variety. - -(_c_) In the _application_ of the means of speech above considered it -will be useful to distinguish once more the several stages of poetic -thought to which they correspond and to which we drew attention when we -considered the nature of poetic conception or composition. - -(_α_) Poetic diction can, in the first instance, appear with real -vitality among a people and at an epoch when the general speech is not -as yet perfected, but in fact only by virtue of its poetry receives -its real development. At such a time the utterance of the poet, as -generally expressive of soul-life, is from the first a real novelty, -which stirs admiration on its own account by revealing in its speech -what remained previously unveiled. This new creation appears as the -marvel of a gift and personal power. The weight of custom has not as -yet fallen upon it. It enables that which is buried in the depths of -the human heart for the first time to freely unfold itself before the -amazement of men. Under such conditions it is the native force of -the expression, the creation of the fact of speech, not so much the -varied and craftful elaboration of the same, which is the main point. -Diction here remains exceedingly simple. In such early times it is -indeed impossible that we should have either much fluency of idea or -any varied versatility of expression. The subject-matter of such poetry -is depicted with an artless directness, which has not yet attained the -delicate nuances, transitions, mediatory matter and other advantages of -a later artistic culture. In such an age the poet is in fact the first -person to give an utterance to the national voice, to express ideas in -speech, and thereby to encourage the imagination itself. Speech is, -if we may so express it, not yet inseparable from ordinary life, and -poetry can still freely, with an effect of freshness, avail itself -of all that in later times, as the speech of common life, gradually -is severed from art. In this respect, for example, Homer's type of -expression is to the modern man barely distinguishable from ordinary -speech. For every idea we have the direct word[8]; metaphorical -expressions are comparatively rare; and although the poem is composed -with a close attention to detail, the speech itself remains very simple -indeed. In a similar way Dante was able to create for his own nation -a vital form of poetic expression, and asserted in this, as in other -respects, the dauntless energy of his creative genius. - -(_β_) When, however--this is a _further_ point--the circle of ideas -enlarges with the appearance of methodical modes of thought the ways -in which idea is associated with idea increase, and in this very -process the ability to use it increases also, and the expression of -speech is elaborated in all the fluency of which it is capable. When -this is so the position of poetry on the side of verbal expression is -wholly changed. In other words, we have now a nation possessing the -fully developed prose speech of everyday life, and poetic expression -must now, in order to retain its interest, swerve aside from ordinary -parlance, and receive a resurrection under the re-moulding energy of -genius.[9] In our daily life the contingency of the moment is the -motive of speech. In the creation of a work of art, however, we must -have deliberate circumspection[10] in the place of instantaneous -feeling; even the spirit of enthusiasm must be judiciously restrained. -The creation of genius should be permitted to unfold itself from the -artistic repose,[11] and become informed under the prevailing temper -of an intelligence[12] that surveys the whole with clarity. In former -times this spirit of concentration and tranquillity is to be inferred -from the fact and utterance of poetry itself. In a more recent age, on -the contrary, the nature of the composition and execution has itself to -enforce the distinction which obtains between the expression of poetry -and prose. In this respect poems which belong to epochs in which we -find already an elaborated prose diction differ essentially from those -of times and peoples in which the art originates. - -The executive talent of a poet can be carried so far in this direction -that the elaboration of formal expression becomes the main thing, and -the aim is less directed to ideal truth than to formal construction, a -polished elegance and mere effect of the composition under its literary -aspect. We have then a situation, in which, as already observed, -rhetoric and declamation are elaborated in a manner destructive to the -ideal vitality of the poetic spirit. The formative intelligence asserts -itself under the principle of _purposiveness_, and a selfconsciously -regulated art disturbs that more genuine effect, which ought to present -the appearance of ingenuous openness and simplicity. Entire nations -have, with the rarest exceptions, failed to produce any type of poetic -creation other than this rhetorical one. The Latin language, even in -Cicero, still preserves a genuine ring of naïveté and naturalness. -With the Latin poets, however, such as Virgil, Horace and the rest, -we already feel that Art is to a real extent nothing but artifice, -elaboration of effect on its own account. We recognize a prosaic -content, which is merely set off with an external embellishment. We -find a poet who, in the absence of original genius, endeavours to -discover, in the sphere of literary versatility and rhetoric effects, -some compensation for that which in genuine power and effect of -creation and composition he fails to possess. France too, in the -so-called classical period of its literature, has produced poetry -very similar, a poetical style to which didactic poems and satires -are singularly appropriate. Rhetorical figures of speech in all their -variety are here in their rightful place. The exposition remains for -all that, as a whole, prosaic; and the literary expression is at its -best rich in image and embellishment, much in the style of Herder's -or Schiller's diction. These last-mentioned writers, however, availed -themselves of this style of literary expression mainly in the interests -of prose composition; and by the weightiness of their reflections and -the happy use of such a style knew how to win both a critical assent -and a hearty approval. The Spanish poets also are not wholly free from -the ostentation inseparable from the too self-conscious diction of -art. And, as a general rule, Southern nations, such as the Spaniards -and the Italians, and previously to them the Mohammedan Arabs and -Persians, are conspicuous for a wealth and tedious prolixity of image -and simile. With the ancients, more especially in the case of Homer, -the flow of expression is characterized by smoothness and tranquillity. -With the nations above mentioned, on the contrary, we have a vision -of life gushing forth[13] in a flood which, even where the emotions -are in other respects at rest, is ever intent upon expatiation, and -owing to this expressly volitional effort of the will is dominated by -an intelligence which at one time is visible in abrupt parentheses, at -another in subtle generalization, at another in the playful conjunction -of its sallies of wit and humour. - -(_γ_) Genuine poetic expression in short is as far removed from all -rhetorical declamation as above described as it is from all ostentation -and witty conceits of diction, in so far at least as such defects do -injury to the ideal truth of Nature, and the claims of the content are -forgotten in the verbal form and expression of the composition. It is, -however, possible, despite of this, that the author's free enjoyment -in his work declare itself with real beauty. In a word that aspect of -the composition we define as formal diction ought not to be treated on -its own and independent account alone, or as an aspect of first and -even exclusive importance. And, generally speaking, in this analysis of -the composition of poetry under its formative aspect, we repeat that -what is the product of careful thought must not lose the appearance of -genuine spontaneity: everything should impress us as though it had of -itself blossomed from the ideal germ or heart of the subject-matter. - - - - -3. VERSIFICATION - - -Our _third_ and final aspect of poetic expression is necessitated -by the fact that the imagination of the poet does not merely invest -ideas in words, but does so in the form of the uttered speech; and by -doing so he consequently enters the domain wherein our senses are made -aware of the actual sounds and music of speech. We are thus introduced -to versification. Versified prose may give us verses, but that is -not necessarily poetry. We have a parallel case in the merely poetic -expression of a composition in other respects prosaic with its result -of poetic prose simply. Yet for all that metre or rhyme is an essential -demand of poetry, bringing, as it were, a perfume of its own to the -senses; nay, it is even more essential than a richly imaginative and -so-called beautiful diction. - -And in truth the artistic elaboration of this sensuous medium[14] -unfolds to us--it is the very demand of the art itself--another realm, -another field, which we only really enter after having left behind us -the prose of ordinary life, whether viewed as action or as literary -composition. The poet is thereby compelled to move in a literary -atmosphere outside the boundary of everyday speech, and to shape his -compositions with an exclusive regard to the rules and requirements of -Art. It is therefore only a superficial theory which would banish all -versification on the ground that it contradicts natural expression. -It is true that Lessing, in his hostility to the false pathos of the -French Alexandrine metre, attempted, more particularly in tragedy, to -introduce a form of prose speech as most appropriate. Both Schiller and -Goethe have, in the more stormy works of their youth, and under the -natural impulse of compositions carrying a greater surfeit of content, -adopted the same principle. But Lessing himself, in his Nathan, -finally returns once more to the iambic. And in the same way with his -Don Carlos Schiller deserted the old path. Goethe too was so little -satisfied with the earlier prosaic treatment of his Iphigeneia and -Tasso, that he transferred them to art's more proper domain, remoulding -them both from the point of view of expression and prosody in that -purer form, wherein these compositions continue and will continue to -excite our admiration. - -No doubt the artificiality of the verse measure or the recurrent echoes -of rhyme has the appearance of an unyielding[15] bond between spiritual -ideas and the sensuous medium, more rigorous indeed than colour in -painting. External objects and the human form are coloured in Nature, -and the colourless is an arbitrary abstraction. The idea, on the -contrary, in association with the sounds of human speech, which are -employed in the wholly capricious symbols of their utterance, possess -only a distant or no ideal thread of connection at all. This being so, -the exacting demand of the prosodical rules will very readily appear -as a fetter to the imagination, in virtue of which it is no longer -possible for the poet to communicate his ideas in the precise form -in which they float upon his phantasy. The inference is natural that -although the stream of rhythm and the music of rhyme exercises upon us -as an unquestionable fascination, it is nevertheless not unfrequently -and too much so the demand of this very charm to our senses that the -finest poetic feeling and idea should be sacrificed. But the objection -for all that will not hold water. In other words it is not true that -versification is simply an obstruction to spontaneous movement. A -genuine artistic talent throughout moves in its sensuous material as in -its native element, which so far from being oppressive or a hindrance -acts as a stimulus and a support. And in fact we find that all really -great poets move with freedom and confidence in the measure, rhythm or -rhyme they have created; and it is only when they are translated that -our artistic sense is frequently pained or shocked at the attempt to -retrace their rhythm and melody. Moreover it is part of the liberality -of the art that the very circumstances of the restraint, involving -much change, concentration or expansion of the ideas expressed, should -suggest to our poet new thoughts, incidents and creations, which, apart -from such difficulties, had never crossed his mind. But in truth quite -apart from this relative advantage this sensuous and determinate form -of being--in the case of poetry the melodious chain of words--is once -for all essential to art. It is absolutely necessary that the result -should not remain in the formless and undefined stream that we have -in the immediate contingency of ordinary conversation. It must appear -in the vital design and elaboration of art. And although this form -no doubt in the music of poetry may sound too as a purely external -instrument, it has nevertheless to be treated as an end on its own -account, and as such as an essentially harmonious self-defined whole. -This attention, which is due to the medium of sense, contributes, -as in Art universally, and in the interest of seriousness,[16] yet -another point of view where we find this very austerity vanishes; both -poet and listener feel it no more. They are lifted into a region of -exhilarating charm and grace. - -In painting and sculpture the artist is given the form in its material -and spatial limitations for the portrayal and colouring of human limbs, -rocks, trees, clouds and flowers. In architecture also the requirements -and objects of the buildings proposed dictate more or less the defined -shape given to walls, towers and roofs. In the same-way music already -possesses stable definition in the fundamental laws of harmony. In the -art of poetry, however, the sound of language to our aural sense is, -in the first instance, unbridled;[17] the poet has consequently to -regulate such absence of rule within objective limits, and to outline -a more stable conture, a more definite framework of sound for his -conceptions, their structure and their objective beauty. - -Just as in musical declamation the rhythm and melody should accept and -adapt itself to the nature of the content, versification is also a -kind of music, which, at its own distance, is capable of essentially -re-echoing the mysterious, but none the less definite, course and -character of the ideas. Agreeably with this the verse-measure ought to -reflect the general tone and, as it were, the spiritual perfume of an -entire poem, and it is by no means a question of no consequence whether -the external form is one of iambics, trochaics, stanzas, alcaics or any -other metre. - -In the heads of discussion we propose to follow of most importance are -_two_ systems, whose distinction from each other we shall endeavour -to explain. The _first_ is _rhythmical_ versification, which depends -upon the actual length or shortness of the verbal syllables, whether we -regard such in the association of varied figures of speech, or under -the relation of their time-movement. - -The _second_ is that which is responsible for _tonal quality_ as such, -not merely in the case of isolated letters, consonants or vowels, -but also in that of entire syllables and words, the configuration of -which is in part regulated by the laws of the uniform repetition -of identical or similar sounds, and in part by those of symmetrical -change. It is to this system that we refer the alliteration, assonance -and rhyme. - -Both systems stand in intimate connection with the prosody of speech. -This is so whether such systems are rather based throughout on the -actual length or shortness of syllables, or on the accent which the -mind requires,[18] as attached to the obvious importance of such -syllables. - -And, _finally_, we have also to _unite_ together this general -rhythmical movement with the music of the independent formal structure -as rhyme.[19] And in this effort, inasmuch as the repeated echo of the -rhyme strikes the ear with a marked emphasis, which asserts itself -predominantly over the purely temporal condition of duration and -advance, the rhythmical aspect will, in such a conjunction, tend to -fall back, and arrest our attention with less force. - -(_a_) _Rhythmical Versification._ - -In discussing the rhythmical system which is without rhyme the -following points are of the most importance: - -_First_, we have the firm and fast time-measure of syllables in their -plain distinction of _long_ and _shorty_ as well as their manifold -association with definite conditions and metres of poetry. - -_Secondly_, we have the animation of rhythm in accent, caesura and -opposition between the verse accent and that of separate words. - -_Thirdly_, there is the aspect of _euphonious sounds_ which, within -this movement, is forthcoming from the sound of the words, without any -further concentration in rhyme. - -(_a_) For that rhythmical movement which the _time duration_ and the -movement itself makes of first importance rather than the melodic sound -as such and singled in its isolated effect, (_αα_) we find our starting -point in the _natural_ length and shortness of syllables to the obvious -distinctions of which the sound of the actual words, the expression -of their letters, in consonants and vowels, contribute the essential -basis. - -Pre-eminently long by nature are the diphthongs ai, oi, ae, and the -rest, for the reason that essentially--whatever our modern schoolmaster -may say to the contrary--they are themselves a twofold, concrete tone, -which combines, much as green does among the colours. The long-sounding -vowels are equally so. As a third principle, which obtains already -in Sanscrit, no less than the Greek and Latin languages, we have -associated with them peculiar conditions of position. In other words, -if two or more consonants are placed between two vowels the relation -constitutes what is unquestionably a difficult transition in speech. -The organ of articulate utterance requires a longer period to pass -over the consonants; this necessitates a pause which, despite of the -presence of the short vowel, makes the syllable sound in its rhythm -long, though it is not actually lengthened. If I speak the words -for example_--mentem nec secus_--the movement from the one vowel to -the other in _mentem_ and _nec_ is neither as simple or easy as in -_secus_. More modern languages do not retain this last distinction with -such stringency, but rather give effect, in the matter of long and -short accent, to other criteria. But for all that syllables which are -treated as short, despite of the position referred to, at least will -not unfrequently create a harsh impression, because they obstruct the -quicker movement our ear demands. - -In contradistinction to the long quantity we have in diphthongs, long -vowels and length created by position, we have the vowels which are by -nature _short_, that is, those which are short, or which are not placed -in words, where one of them and another immediately following are -separated by two or more consonants. - -(_ββ_) For the reason, then, that words, partly on their own account, -as of several syllables, include a number of long and short beats, and -in part, although of one syllable, are nevertheless associated with -other words, we have thereby to start with a definite, but accidental -interchange of various syllables and words without any stable -measure. To regulate this accidental relation is just the function -of poetry, precisely as it was that of music to define with accuracy -the unregulated duration of particular tones by means of the unity -of time-measure. Poetry therefore establishes specific combinations -of long and short syllables as the law, by virtue of which, under the -aspect of _time-duration,_ it has to arrange the series of syllables. -What we therefore get in the first instance are the different -successions of time. The simplest is the mutual relation of pure -equality, as, for example, we find it in the dactyl and anapaest, in -which the two short syllables may coalesce according to definite rule -in two long syllables (the spondee). Secondly, a long syllable may be -placed next one short; in that case we have a profounder distinction of -derivation, though under its simplest form. Such are the iambus and the -trochee. We find a more complicated combination, when a short syllable -is interposed between two long ones, or one short precedes two long, as -in the cretic and bacchius. - -(_γγ_) Such _isolated_ time-relations would, however, open the door -to unregulated contingency if they were permitted to follow one -another anyhow in their motley differences. In fact the entire aim -of such regulation would vanish under such conditions, in other -words the regulated series of long and short syllables. From another -point of view we should wholly fail to secure a definite beginning, -conclusion, and central position, so that the caprice which here -once again asserted itself would entirely contradict that which we -previously established, when considering musical time-measure and -beat, as to the relation in which the percipient ego stood to the -duration of tones. In other words, the ego requires a combination on -its own account,[20] a return out of the continuous forward movement -in time; and only seizes on the same in virtue of definite unities of -time and their, as such, emphasized commencement,[21] regulated in -their entire series and terminations. This is the reason why, in the -_third_ place, poetry also sets out the particular time-relations in a -series of _verse-lines,_[22] which in respect to the type and number -of their feet, no less than in that of their commencement, progress, -and conclusion, are subject to rule. The iambic trimeter, for instance, -consists of six iambic feet, of which any two constitute an iambic -dipody. The hexameter consists of six dactyls, which again, in certain -positions, may coalesce in spondees. - -Moreover, as it is no objection to such lines of verse-writing that -they are repeated over and over again in the same or practically -under the same mode, we find in respect to the entire series, on the -one hand, a lack of definition so far as the one final conclusion is -concerned, and on the other a monotony, which creates perceptibly a -sense of deficiency in the ideal aspect of their manifold composition. -In order to mitigate such defects poetry makes a final advance in its -creation of the strophe and its varied organization, more particularly -with a view to lyric expression. As an illustration we have the elegiac -measure of the Greeks; there is also the alcaic and sapphic strophe, -not to mention the modes of lyric art elaborated by Pindar and the -famous Greek dramatists in their choric effusions or interludes. - -However much, in their relation to time-measure, music and poetry -partake of similar conditions, we ought not, therefore, to fail to -draw attention to their dissimilarity. The most important feature -of this is that of the _beat._ The question whether there is any -real repetition measurable in time-beats of identical length in the -metre of the ancients has been the subject of strenuous controversy. -Generally speaking I think it may be affirmed that poetry, which uses -language in its words as a mere means of communication, is unable, in -respect to the time-length of its utterances, to subordinate the same -to an absolutely fixed measure of its movement in the abstract form -that is present in the time-beat of music. In music tone is simply -sound, without pause as such, and it essentially requires a stability -such as we find in the time-beat. Human speech does not require such -security, for one reason because it already possesses something fixed -and substantive in the idea, and for another because it is not thus -wholly committed to the objective medium of sound or resonance; rather -this very ideality of conscious life is the medium in which it consists -as art. For this reason poetry in fact discovers the more substantive -means of defining its arrest, continuance, pause or delay immediately -in the ideas and emotions which it clearly enunciates in language. -Music, too, in its recitatives, marks the beginning of a similar -process of separation from the immutable equality of the time-beat. -It follows from this that, if poetical metre were wholly subjugate to -the regularity of the time-beat, the distinction between music and -poetry, in this sphere at least, would vanish altogether, and the -element of time would receive a more predominant significance than is -compatible with the essential characteristics of poetry. Supported by -such a conclusion we may therefore insist that, though a _time-measure_ -is of imperative value in poetry, there is no such necessity for the -abstract _time-beat_; meaning and signification[23] of the actual words -must here remain the relatively speaking more controlling force. If we -examine in this respect more closely the particular verse-measures of -the ancients the hexameter will no doubt appear most nearly attached to -a forward movement compatible with the stringency of the time-beat. The -elder Voss in fact assumed this, though, as a matter of fact, such an -assumption is already excluded by the catalexis of the last foot. When -in addition to this Voss proceeded to place the time-measure of the -alcaic and sapphic strophes on a similar basis of abstract equality, we -can only regard such a theory as a wilful caprice which does violence -to the poetry. The contention throughout is apparently due to the habit -of treating our German iambic in identical lengths of syllable measure -and time-measure. As a matter of fact the beauty of the iambic trimeter -of the ancients consisted above all in this, that it was not composed -of six iambic feet of identical lengths of time; but quite the contrary -in order that, in the first position of every dipody, spondees, or, in -their resolution, also dactyls and anapaests were permissible; and, by -reason of this, the monotonous repetition of the same time-measure, and -thereby all that is consistent with the time-beat, vanishes. We may add -that the possibility of change is yet more obvious in lyric strophes, -so that if we wish to establish such a thesis at all it must be on the -_à priori_ principle, that the time-beat is essentially necessary. As a -deduction from the plain facts we see nothing of the kind. - -(_β_) With the introduction of the _accent_ and the _caesura_ we -have for the first time the animation of the time-measure; we may -parallel with this that rhythm in music, which we have discussed as the -time-beat. - -(_αα_) In short in poetry also every definite time relation has, in -the first instance, its particular accent; in other words, regularly -defined intervals are asserted, which attract others and only in this -way are rounded off in a whole. Owing to this fact much play is given -to the _manifold possibilities_ of the value of syllables. On the one -hand generally long syllables appear emphasized in their contrast to -short, so that now, if the ictus falls upon them, their significance -is doubled as against the shorter, and in fact stand out themselves -as distinct from long syllables not thus accented. On the other hand, -however, it may also happen that shorter syllables receive the ictus or -accent, so that a similar emphasis is created to the one described in -the converse case. - -Above all, as already observed, the beginning and termination of the -particular feet ought not with abstract precision to be identical with -the beginning and conclusion of single words. For, in the _first_ -place, the reach forward[24] of the essentially exclusive word over -the termination of the foot of the line affects the connection of the -otherwise disparate rhythms. _Secondly_, when the verse accent falls on -the final sound of a word carried forward as above described, we get on -account of this in addition a distinct interval of time, the conclusion -of a word having already come to a pause in something else, so that it -is in fact this pause, which, in virtue of the accent united with it, -is expressly made perceptible as a segment of time in the otherwise -unbroken current. Caesuras of this sort are inevitable with every -kind of verse. For although the distinct accent already confers on -particular feet a more intimate and essential distinction, and thereby -a certain variety, this sort of animation, especially in the case of -verses, in which the same feet repeat each other without a break, as, -for example, in our iambic, remain for all that in a measure entirely -abstract and monotonous, and furthermore allow the particular feet to -fall apart without a common bond. It is this gray monotony which the -caesura checks, introducing a connection and more genuine animation -within what was otherwise, with its undifferentiated regularity, the -halting flow of verse, a life which, by virtue of the various positions -in which the caesura may assert itself, is itself as manifold as is -possible agreeably with the condition that its regulated definition is -held free from any approach to lawless caprice. - -A _third_ accent is furthermore attached to the verse accent and -caesura, which the words in other respects and independently possess, -apart from their metrical employment. By this means the mode and -degree in which the particular syllables are emphasized or the reverse -increases in its variety. This verbal accent may, on the one hand, -no doubt appear in conjunction with the accent of the verse and -the caesura; and, if this is the case, the strength of the accents -respectively is increased. But from another point of view it may stand -independently of them on syllables which do not receive any further -emphasis, and which we may say, in so far as they moreover require -an accentuation to bring out their particular significance as verbal -syllables, assert an effect counter to the verse rhythm, an effect -which confers on the whole a novel and unique vitality. - -To appreciate the beauty of rhythm in all the above aspects is for our -modern ears a very difficult matter, because in modern languages the -elements which combine to produce. this kind of metrical effect are no -longer in some measure present in the sharp and secure insistence they -possessed for the ancient world; rather we have other means substituted -for them, in order to satisfy other demands of artistic taste. - -(_ββ_) But over and above all this, paramount over all valid claims of -syllables and words within their metrical position, there is, secondly, -the worth of that significance we gather from the line or verse as -_poetical idea._ It is in relation to this, which the language implies, -that its other metrical effects are either emphasized or, comparatively -speaking, are restrained as void of significance; and it is by this -means alone that the finest perfume of spiritual vitality is instilled -through the poetry. But notwithstanding this fact, such poetical effect -is not to be carried so far that it directly contradicts in this -respect the rules of metrical rhythm. - -(_γγ_) Moreover, a _definite_ type of _content_ corresponds with the -entire character of a particular verse measure, particularly from the -point of view of rhythmical movement, and above all that particular -kind implied in the movement of our feelings. Thus, for example, the -hexameter, in the tranquil wave of its forward stream, is particularly -adapted to the even flow of epic narration. Where, however, it -is more in the nature of the strophe in its association with the -pentameter and its symmetrically consistent caesura, it is, in its -none the less generally simple regularity, fitted to express elegiac -emotion. The iambic again moves forward with rapidity, and as such is -peculiarly suitable to dramatic dialogue. The anapaest indicates the -clear-slipping march of joyful exultation. Other characteristics may -readily be associated with other modes of verse-measure. - -(_γ_) _Thirdly_, this province of rhythmical versification is not -confined to the mere configuration and vivication of time-intervals; it -embraces the actual musical sound of syllables and words. In respect -to such sound, however, the classic languages, in which rhythm is -retained, as above described, as an essential feature, offer a real -contrast to other more recent ones more conspicuously adapted to rhyme. - -(_αα_) In the Greek and Latin languages, for example, the stem -syllable is modified, by virtue of its modes of inflexion, through -an abundance of variously toned syllables, which of course possess -an independent meaning, but only as a modification of such syllable; -this consequently, it is true, asserts its force as the substantive -significance of that variously expanded sound, but it does not, so -far as its sound is concerned, stand forth as such in pre-eminent and -unique ascendancy. When we hear, for example, the word _amaverunt_, -three syllables are attached to the word, and the accent is already -substantially differentiated throughout the number and extension -of these syllables in direct relation to the stem syllable, even -assuming no naturally long ones had been included, by which means the -_fundamental significance_ and the emphasis of _accent_ are _separated_ -from each other. In such a case consequently, and in so far as the -accentuation is not identical with the _main_ syllable, but falls on -another, which merely expresses an _incidental_ significance, the -ear can from this basis at once listen to the sound of the different -syllables and follow their movement, retaining, as it does, perfect -liberty to attend to that prosody peculiar to the word or phrase, and -finding itself then invited to incorporate within its rhythm these -naturally long and short syllables. - -(_ββ_) The case of our modern German language is wholly different. -That which in the Greek and Latin languages is expressed, as above -described, by means of the prefix and suffix, and other modifications, -is in more modern languages for the most part resolved in verbs of -the stem syllable; the result of this is that the inflexion syllables -that have been in the former case unfolded in one and the same word, -with collateral meanings of a varied character, are now split up -and isolated in separate words. As illustrations of this we have -the constant employment of many subsidiary words denoting time, the -independent indication of the optative by means of distinct verbs, -the separation of pronouns, and other examples. By such means, on the -one hand, the word --which in the previous case adduced was expanded -in all the variety of tone which attached to its many syllables, -under which every accent of the root, that is the root idea, was -cancelled--persists as a simple totality concentrated in itself, -without appearing as a series of tones, which being, as they are, mere -modifications, do not, by virtue of their specific _sense,_ assert an -influence with such a strength that the ear is unable to attend to -their independent tonal quality and its temporal movement. And, on the -other hand, on account of this concentration the main significance is -moreover of such a force that it attracts the fall of the accent upon -itself exclusively; and just because the emphasis is thus fastened -upon the fundamental sense this very coalescence does not suffer the -quantity of the other syllables, whether long or short ones, to appear; -they are simply overwhelmed. The roots of the majority of words are -unquestionably as a general rule short, compact,[25] of one or two -syllables. If thus, as is for instance pre-eminently the case with our -mother tongue, these root-stems appropriate almost invariably the -accent to themselves, such an accent is to an overwhelming degree one -of the sense, _significance',_ not a definition, however, in which the -medium--that is, the utterance as sound--would be free, or could assert -the relation of the length, shortness, or accentuation of syllables -independently of the intelligible content of the words. Consequently a -rhythmical configuration of time-movement and emphasis liberated from -the stem syllable and its meaning can here no longer be maintained. We -have merely left us, in contradistinction to the former hearing of the -ample sound and duration of such long and short beats in their varied -juxtaposition, a general impression of sound,[26] which is apprehended. -entirely aloof from the accented fundamental syllable with its weight -of significance. And, indeed, apart from this, as we have seen, the -ramification of the stem into syllables as modified into particular -words is also an independent process. Such words receive thereby an -independent worth, and, while preserving their own significance, they -make us at the same time hear the identical coalescence of meaning -and accent, which we have observed in the case of the stem or root -word around which they are ranged. We are therefore forced to restrict -our attention to the sense of every word; and, instead of being -occupied with the natural length and shortness of syllables and their -sensuous[27] accentuation, are only able to hear the accent asserted by -the main and substantive meaning. - -(_γγ_) In such modern languages the element of rhythm has little room -for its display, or at least the soul has little freedom left to -expatiate within it, because, as observed, time and the equable stream -of syllabic sound as emitted from its movement is superseded[28] by a -more ideal relation--that is to say, by the sense and meaning of the -words, and thereby the force of the more independent configuration of -rhythm is suppressed. We may in this connection compare the principle -of rhythmical versification with the plastic arts. We find in both that -the ideal significance is not as yet asserted in its independence, nor -does the former expressly define the length and accent of syllables, -but rather the meaning of the words is wholly blended with the sensuous -medium of the inherent time duration and sound, with a result that does -complete justice to the claim of such externality, wholly absorbed in -the ideal form and movement of the same. If, however, such a principle -is renounced, and yet despite of this, but in accordance with the -necessary demand of art, the sensuous medium is permitted to retain a -certain force of resistance as against the exclusive assertion of ideal -content,[29] in order to this end to divert the ear's attention,--in -the case that is, where what we may call the plastic moment of that -more ancient mode of syllabic quantity, as it is on its own account, -and the tonal quality inseparable from the general rhythm rather than -independently asserted --when this, as I say, has been destroyed, then -we have no other means[30] at hand save the express and artistically -configurated sound of articulate speech simply, and retained as -such in its isolation. And this leads us to our second main type of -versification--in other words, _rhyme._ - -(_b_) _Rhyme_ - -From an objective standpoint it is possible to seek to explain the -need of a novel treatment of language from the deterioration into -which the classical languages fell through their contact with foreign -relations. Such a development, however, lies in the nature of the -facts themselves. The earliest example of conformity with the ideality -of its content attempted by poetry is to be traced in the length and -shortness of syllables in independence from their significance, for the -mutual relations of which, caesurae and so forth, art elaborates its -rules, rules which it is true generally coincide with the character -of the content in its broad outlines, but which none the less, in -matters of individual detail, do not suffer either the length or -shortness of a syllable, nor its accent, to depend exclusively on the -intelligible significance making such a formal aspect subordinate, -to the point of entire detachment, to the same.[31] The more ideal, -however, and spiritual the represented idea becomes, the more it tends -to detach itself from this objective aspect, which increasingly fails -to present such ideality in plastic guise, and finally reaches a point -of self-concentration in which the, so to speak, corporeal element -of speech is in a measure wholly wiped away, and for the rest merely -asserts that wherein the intelligible significance is reposed as -necessary to its communication; all else is only admitted, by way of -by-play, as insignificant. Now romantic art, in respect to the entire -type of its conception and presentation, effects a similar passage -over to this concentrated synthesis of ideality, when it sets out in -search for the material which corresponds to this subjective content -in audible sound.[32] Following these lines romantic poetry also, -inasmuch as it generally lays most stress on the ideal tones[33] of -feeling, becomes absorbed in its preoccupation[34] with the distinct -and independent ring and tones of letters, syllables, and words; -perfecting such a process to its final satisfaction, as it learns, -either in their association with ideality, or in their connection with -the architectonically intelligible penetration[35] of such music, -to separate such syllabic and other verbal sounds or to relate or -interlace them one with another. From this point of view we may affirm -that it is not simply by way of accident that rhyme is elaborated in -romantic poetry. It is a necessary feature of it. The requirement of -soul-life, to discover itself again, is thereby more fully asserted, -and finds a real source of satisfaction in the identity of the rhyme, -which declares an indifference[36] to the unyielding laws of the -time-measure, and, by virtue of its recurrence of similar sounds, gives -exclusive effect to an effort which conducts the conscious self back -to itself. It is by this means that versification is made to approach -more closely the musical art as such, that is, the vivid tones of -soul-life itself, and is, from this point of view, liberated from the, -relatively speaking, gross material of human speech, in other words -from what we have referred to as the natural measure of quantity. - -With regard to points of special interest in this subject, I will -confine myself to the following general observations: - -_First_, upon the origin of rhyme. - -_Secondly_, upon a few more definite features by which we may -distinguish the sphere of rhyme from that of rhythm in verse. - -_Thirdly_, upon the types under which we may classify rhyme generally. - -(_α_) We have already seen that rhyme belongs in its form to the art -of romantic poetry, which requires such a more pronounced emphasis of -its configurated syllabic sound posited thus on its own account. And it -is thus effected to the extent that the ideal activity of volition[37] -discovers its own presence by this means in the objective medium -of tone. Where such a need is asserted we have a mode of speech in -part meeting absolutely the conditions of form I outlined above when -discussing the necessity of rhyme; and in addition it makes use of the -old forms of language at hand, the Latin for example, which, though of -other constitution and mainly applicable to rhythmical versification, -it employs agreeably to the character of the new principle, or -reconstructs the same so far into a new language that the element of -rhythm disappears, and rhyme becomes, as in the Italian and French -languages, the matter of all importance. - -(_αα_) In this respect we find throughout Christendom that rhyme is -introduced into Latin versification at a very early date with much -insistence, although, as observed, it rested on other principles. -These principles, however, are rather adapted from the Greek language; -and, so far from testifying to the fact that they originated from the -Latin speech itself, rather prove, under the modified character they -possess, a tendency which itself approaches the romantic type. In -other words, the poetry of Rome, on the one hand and in its earliest -days, discovered its source not in the natural length and shortness of -syllables, but rather measured the value of syllables relatively to -their accent; and in consequence of this it was only through a more -accurate knowledge and imitation of Greek poetry that the prosodical -principle of this was received and followed. And, moreover, the Romans -rendered more obdurate the flexible, joyous sensuousness of Greek -metres, more particularly by their use of more insistent pauses at the -caesura, as we find such not only in the hexameter, but also in the -alcaic and sapphic metres, hardening the effect thus to a structure of -more stringent outline and more severe regularity. And indeed, apart -from this, even in the full bloom of Latin literature, and from their -poets of finest culture, we have already plenty of rhymes. Thus from -Horace, in his _Ars poetica_ (verses 99-100), we get the following: - - - Non satis est, pulchra esse poemata: dulcia _sunto,_ - Et quocunque volent, animum auditoris _agunto._ - - -Though the poet was probably quite unconscious of the fact, it is -none the less a strange coincidence that, in the very passage in -which Horace enforces the obligation that poems should be _dulcia_, -we discover a rhyme. Similar rhymes occur in Ovid with still more -frequency. Even assuming such to be accidental, the fact remains -that they appear to have been not offensive to Roman ears, and might -consequently be permitted, although as isolated exceptions, to slip -into the composition. Yet the profounder significance of romantic -rhyme is absent from such playful exceptions. The former does not -assert the recurrent sound merely as sound, but the ideal content or -meaning implied in it. And it is precisely this which constitutes the -fundamental difference between modern rhyme and the very ancient rhyme -of the Hindoos. - -As for the classical languages, it was after the invasion of barbarism, -and on account of the destruction of accentuation and the assertion of -that uniquely personal note of emotion referable to Christianity, that -the rhythmical system of verse passed into that of rhyme. Thus, in his -hymn to the Holy Spirit, Ambrosius entirely regulates the versification -according to the accent of the meaning expressed, and breaks into -rhyme. The first work of St. Augustine against the Donatists is in the -same way a rhymed song; and also the so-called Leonine versicles, as -expressly rhymed hexameters and pentameters, are easily distinguishable -from the accidental exceptions of rhyme previously noticed. These and -other examples like them mark the point of departure of rhyme from the -more ancient rhythmical system. - -(_ββ_) Certain writers have no doubt attempted to trace the origin -of the new principle of versification in _Arabian_ literature. The -artistic education, however, of the famous poets of the East is of -later date than the appearance of rhyme in western Christendom; and any -Mohammedan art of a more early time exercised no real influence on the -West. We should, however, add that we find from the first in Arabian -poetry essential affinities with the romantic principle, in which the -knights of Europe, at the time of the crusades, very readily made -themselves at home; and consequently it is not difficult to understand -how, in the affinity of spiritual tendencies[38] which they shared, -and in which the poetry of Eastern Mohammedanism no less than Western -Christianity finds its source, though removed in the world from each -other, we meet for the first time and on its own independent footing a -novel type of verse writing. - -(_γγ_) A _third_ source, to which again, independently of either -the influence of the classic languages or the Arabic, we may trace -the origins of rhyme and all that it implies, are the _Germanic_ -languages, as we find them in their earliest Scandinavian development. -As illustration of this we have the songs of the ancient Edda, which, -though only in more recent times, collected and edited, unquestionably -date from a former age. In these, as we shall see later on, it is -not, it is true, the genuine rhyme-sound which is elaborated in its -perfection, but rather an effective emphasis upon particular sounds of -language, and a regularity defined by rule, with a definite repetition -of both aspects. - -(_β_) Yet more important than the question of origin is the -characteristic _difference_ between the new system and the old. I have -already adverted to the fundamental feature of importance here; it only -remains to establish it more narrowly. - -Rhythmical versification attained its most beautiful and richest -development in the field of Hellenic poetry, in which we may discover -the most eminent features of the type wherever it obtains. Briefly they -are as follows: - -_First_, the sound, as such, of letters, syllables, or words does -not here constitute its material, but rather the syllabic sound in -its _temporal duration_, so that attention must neither exclusively -be directed to particular syllables or words, nor to the purely -qualitative similarity or identity of their sound. On the contrary, the -sound still remains in inseparable union with the static time-measure -of its specific duration; and in the forward movement of both the ear -has to follow the value of every separate syllable no less than the -principle which obtains in the rhythmical progression of all equally -together. _Secondly_, the measure of long and short syllables, no less -than that of rhythmical rise and fall, and varied animation derived -from more deliberate caesurae and moments of pause, depends upon the -_natural_ element of the language, without permitting any introduction -of that type of accentuation, by virtue of which the actual _meaning_ -of the word leaves its impress on a syllable or a word. The -versification asserts itself in its collocation of feet, its verse -accent, its caesurae, and so forth in this respect as fully independent -as the language itself, which also, outside the domain of poetry, -already accepts accentuation from the natural quantity of syllables -and their relations of juxtaposition, and not from the significance of -the root-syllable. On this account, _thirdly_, we have as the vital -emphasis of certain syllables, first, the verse accent and rhythm, -and, secondly, all other accentuation, both of which aspects, in their -twofold contribution to the varied character of the whole, pass in and -out of one another without any mutual derangement or suppression; and -in like manner respectively they satisfy the claim of the poetical -imagination in fully admitting the expressiveness due, by virtue of the -nature of their position and movement, to words which, in respect to -their intelligible meaning, are of a greater importance than others. - -(_αα_) The first alteration, then, effected by rhymed verse in -the previous system is this indisputable validity of _natural -quantity_,[39] If, therefore, any time-measure at all is permitted to -remain, it is compelled to seek for a basis for such quantitative pause -or acceleration, which it refuses any longer to find in the natural -quantity, of syllables, in some other province. And this, as we have -seen, can be no other than the intrinsic meaning of syllables and -words. It is this _significance_ which in the final instance determines -the quantitative measure of syllables, so long as such is still -regarded as essential at all, and by doing so transfers the criterium -from the purely objective medium[40] and its natural structure to the -ideal subject-matter. - -(_ββ_) A further result follows from this of yet more importance. As -I have already pointed out, this collocation of the emphasis on the -significant stem-syllable dissipates that other independent diffusion -of it in manifold forms of inflexion, which our rhythmical system -is not yet forced to treat as negligible, in contrast to the stem, -because it deduces neither the natural quantity of syllables nor the -accent which it asserts from the intelligible significance. In the -case, however, where such an explication,[41] with its co-ordination -in verse-feet according to the quantity of syllables in their natural -stability, falls away the entire system therewith necessarily -collapses, which reposes on the time-measure and its laws. Of this -type, for example, is French and Italian poetry, the metre and rhythm -of which are absolutely non-existent as understood by the ancients. The -entire question is here merely one of a definite number of syllables. - -(_γγ_) For such a loss there is only one possible compensation--that -of _rhyme._ In other words, if--this is one aspect--it is no longer -time-duration which receives objective expression, by means of which -the sound of syllables flows on freely in the even movement that -intrinsically belongs to them; if, furthermore, the intelligible -significance dominates over the stem-syllables, and coalesces with -the same without further organic expatiation into a determinate -unity, we have no sensuous medium, such as is able to maintain itself -independently of the time-measure, no less than this accentuation of -the stem-syllables, finally left to us other than just this syllabic -sound. - -Such a sound, however, if it is to secure an independent attention, -must, in the _first_ place, be of a far more insistent kind than the -interchange of different tones, such as we met with in the older verse -metres; and its assertion must be of a far more overwhelming character -than the stress of syllables can lay claim to in ordinary speech. -What we now require has not only to compensate us for the loss of the -articulate time-measure, but it further undertakes to reassert the -sensuous medium in its opposition to that unqualified predominance of -the accentuated significance. For when once the conceptive content -has essentially attained the ideality and penetration of mind,[42] -for which the sensuous aspect of speech is of no importance, the -verbal sound must enforce itself still more positively and coarsely as -distinct from this ideality in order to arrest our attention at all. -In contrast, therefore, to the gentle movements of rhythmical euphony, -rhyme is a crude expedient,[43] which requires an ear by no means -either so trained or sensitive as that presupposed by Greek verse. -_Secondly,_ though it is true that rhyme does not here assert itself -so much as distinct from the meaning of the stem-syllables simply as -it does from the entire ideal content, yet it does at the same time -so far assist the natural verbal sound as to win for it a relatively -secure stability. But this object can only be attained if the -sound[44] of particular words affirms itself in exclusive distinction -from the resonance of other words, and thus secures an independent -existence, by virtue of which _isolation_ it satisfies the claims of -the formative aspect of the verbal medium in forceful beats of sound. -Rhyme is therefore, at least in its contrast to the evenly transfused -movement of rhythmic euphony, a detached exhibition of exclusive -tonal expression. _Thirdly,_ we found that it was the ideality of -the conscious self which, by virtue of its effort of ideal synthesis, -came into its own, and discovered its personal satisfaction in such -recurrences of sound. If, then, the means used in the older type of -versification, with its copious variety of structure, disappear, there -only remains, if we look at poetry, under the aspect of its _medium,_ -to support this principle of self-recovery, the more formal repetition -of wholly identical or similar sounds, whereby again we are able to -unite under an intelligible scheme[45] the assertion and relation of -closely associated meanings in the rhyme-sounds of expressive words. -The metre of rhythmical verse we may regard as a variously articulate -interrelation of manifold syllabic quantities. Rhyme, on the contrary, -is from one point of view more material;[46] yet, on the other hand, -is itself more abstractly placed within this medium. In other words, -it is the mere recollection of mind and the ear of the recurrence of -identical or related sounds and significations--a recurrence in which -the poet is conscious of his own activity, recognizes, and is pleased -to recognize, himself therein as both agent and participant. - -(_γ_) Finally, on the question of the particular _types_ under which we -may classify this more modern system of romantic poetry, I only propose -to advert briefly to what appears to me of most importance in respect -to alliteration, assonance, and ordinary rhyme. - -(_αα_) The first, or at least the most thorough, example of -_alliteration_ is that we find elaborated in the earliest Scandinavian -poetry, where it supplies the fundamental basis, whereas assonance -and the terminal rhyme, albeit these two aspects play a by no means -unimportant part, are, however, only present in certain particular -kinds of such poetry. The principle of alliterative rhyme, letter -rhyme, is rhyme in its most incomplete form, because it does not -require the recurrence of the entire syllable, but only that of one -identical letter, and primarily the initial letter only. Owing to -the weakness of this type of recurrent sound it is, in the first -place, therefore necessary that only such words should be used in -its service, which already independently possess an express accent on -their first syllable; and, secondly, these words must not be remote -from one another, if the identity of their commencement is to make a -real impression on the ear. For the rest, alliterative letters may be a -vowel, no less than a double or single consonant; but it is primarily -consonants which are of most importance in the scheme. Based on such -conditions, we find in Icelandic poetry[47] the fundamental rule that -all alliterative rhymes require accentuated[48] syllables, whose -initial letters must not in the same lines occur in other substantives -which have the accent on the first syllable; and, along with this, of -the three words, the initial letters of which constitute the rhyme, -two must be found in the first line, and the third, which supplies the -dominant alliteration, must be placed at the commencement of the second -line. We may add further that, in virtue of the abstract character -of this identical sound of initial letters, words are generally made -alliterative proportionally to the importance of their signification. -We find, therefore, that here, too, the relation of accented sound to -the meaning of words is not entirely absent. I cannot, however, pursue -this subject into more detail. - -(_ββ_) _Secondly_, _assonance_ has nothing to do with initial letters, -but makes a nearer approach to rhyme in so far as it is a recurrence -in identical sound of the same letters in the middle or at the -termination of different words. It is not necessary, of course, that -these assonant words should in all cases come at the conclusion of -a line; they may fall into other places. Mainly, however, it is the -concluding syllables of lines which come into this mutual relation of -assonance, as contrasted with alliteration which is effective rather at -the line's commencement. In its richest elaboration we may associate -this assonance of language with the Romance nations, more especially -the Spanish, whose full-toned language is peculiarly adapted to this -recurrence of the same vowels. As a rule, no doubt assonance is here -restricted to vowels. But the language further permits of other variety -of assonance, not only that of vowels, but also that of identical -consonants and consonants in association with one vowel. - -(_γγ_) That which, as above described, alliteration and assonance are -only able to establish with incompleteness is abundantly fulfilled by -_rhyme._ In it, and expressly to the exclusion of initial letters, we -have asserted the wholly equable sound of entire verb stems,[49] which -are, by virtue of this equability, brought into an express relation -with their tonal utterance. We have no mere question now of the number -of the syllables. Words of one syllable, no less than others of two or -more, may be rhymed. By this means we not only get the masculine rhyme, -which is restricted to words of one syllable, but also the feminine -rhyme, which embraces words of two syllables, as also the so-called -gliding rhyme, which reaches to three or even more syllables. It is -in particular the languages of Northern Europe which incline to the -first type, Southern languages to the second, such as the Italian and -Spanish. The German and French languages would appear to lie between -these two extremes. Rhymes of more than three syllables are rarely to -be met with in any language. - -The position of the rhyme is at the conclusion of the lines, in -which the rhyming word, although there is certainly no reason that -it should ever concentrate in itself the ideal expressiveness of the -significance, nevertheless does attract attention to itself so far as -the verbal sound is concerned; and, furthermore, it makes the different -verses or stanzas follow one another either in accordance with the -principle of a wholly abstract recurrence of the same rhyme, or by -uniting, separating, and mutually relating them in a more elaborate -mode of regulated change, and variously symmetrical interweaving of -different rhymes with correspondent relations, sometimes more near, -at others more remote, of every degree of complexity. In such a -process the particular rhymes will at one point stare us in the face -at once, or they will appear to have a game of hide-and seek; so that -in this way our ear, as it listens, will at one time receive instant -satisfaction, at another it will only find it after considerable delay, -wherein the expectation will, as it were, be coquetted with, deceived, -and kept on the stretch, until the assured end from point to point of -artistically arranged recurrence is reached, and with it the hearer's -approval. - -Among the various types of the poetic art it is pre-eminently _lyric_ -poetry, which, by virtue of its ideality and personal quality of -expression, most readily avails itself of rhyme, and thereby converts -language itself into a music of emotion and melodic symmetry, a -symmetry not merely of time-measure and rhythmical movement, but of -the kind of resonance which finds a responsive echo in the inner life -itself. To promote this, therefore, the art elaborates in its use -of rhyme a more simple or complex system of strophes, every one of -which is part of one organic whole. Examples of such an interplay of -melodic sound, whether steeped in emotion or rich in ingenuity, are the -sonnet, canzonet, triolet, and madrigal. Epic poetry, on the contrary, -so long as it does not mingle lyrical subject-matter with its more -native character, preserves a more equable advance in its construction, -which does not easily adapt itself to the strophe. We have an obvious -illustration of this in the triplet stanzas of Dante's "Divine Comedy," -as contrasted with the lyrical canzonets and sonnets of the same poet. -However, I must not permit myself to go further into detail. - -(_c_) Now that we have in the above investigation separated rhythmical -versification from rhyme, and _contrasted_ the same, we may now -proceed, _thirdly_, to ask ourselves whether a _combination_ of the -two is not also intelligible, and, indeed, actually employed. The -existence of certain more recent languages will render exceptional and -important aid to the solution; in other words, we cannot deny to these -either a partial reassertion of our former rhythmical system, or, in -certain respects, an association of the same with rhyme. We will, for -example, confine our attention to our mother tongue, and, in reference -to the first-mentioned aspect, it will be sufficient to recall -Klopstock, who would have as little of rhyme as possible; who not -merely in epic, but also in lyrical poetry, set himself to imitate the -ancients with the greatest enthusiasm and persistency. Voss and others -have followed in his steps, ever striving to enforce with increased -strictness principles upon which to base this rhythmical treatment of -our language. Goethe, on the contrary, never felt quite himself in his -classical syllabic measures. He asks himself, not without reason: - - - Stehn uns diese weiten Falten - Zu Gesichte, wie den Alten?[50] - - -(_α_) I will in this connection merely reiterate what I already -have observed upon the distinction which exists between ancient and -more modern languages. Rhythmical versification is based upon the -_natural_ quantity of syllables, possessing therein an essentially -stable criterion, which the ideal expression can neither limit, -alter, or weaken. Such a natural measure is, however, abhorrent to -more recent languages; in these it is only the _verbal_ accent of the -ideal significance, which makes one syllable long in its contrast to -others, which are defective in such significance. Such a principle -of accentuation, however, does not supply any audible compensation -for the absence of the natural quantity, or rather it adds to the -actual uncertainty of such a measure. For the more strongly emphasized -significance of a word can at the same time make another short, despite -the fact that, taken by itself, it possesses a verbal accent, so that -the criterion accepted is wholly one of mutual relation. _Du liebst,_ -can, for instance, according to the stress of the emphasis which is -thrown, according to the sense intended, either on both words, or one -or the other, be a spondee, iambus or trochee. No doubt the attempt has -been made, even in our own tongue, to return to the _natural_ quantity -of syllables, and to create rules with this intent; but in the presence -of the overwhelming importance that the intelligible significance and -the accent it asserts has secured such a reference to theory is quite -impracticable. And in truth this agrees with the state of the facts. -If the natural measure is really to constitute the essential basis, -the language ought not as yet to have become such an instrument of -soul expression as it is of necessity in our own times. Once allow, -however, that it has already in its course of development thus secured -such a mastery of the intelligible purport over the sensuous or native -material, and it follows that the fundamental test for the value of -syllables is not to be deduced from the objective quantity itself, but -rather from that whereof words are themselves indicative as means. The -emotional impulse of a free intelligence refuses to allow the temporal -activity of language, as such, to establish itself in the independent -form of its native and objective reality. - -(_β_) Such a conclusion, however, does not necessarily imply that we -are forced to oust altogether from our German language the rhymeless -rhythmical treatment of the syllabic measure; it merely in essential -respects points to this, that it is not possible, conformably with the -character of the structure of our modern speech, to retain the plastic -consistency of the metrical medium as it was secured by the ancient -world. We must consequently seek for and elaborate some further element -in poetical composition by way of compensation, which on its own -independent account is of a more ideal[51] character than the stable -natural quantity of syllables. Such an element is the accent of the -verse, no less than the caesura, which as now constituted, instead of -moving independently of the verbal accent, coalesce with the same, and -thereby receive a more significant, albeit a more abstract assertion, -in virtue of the fact that the variety of that previous threefold -accentuation, which we discovered in the rhythmical type of classical -poetry, on account of this very coalescence necessarily disappears. -It, however, equally follows as a result that we only retain the power -with conspicuous success to imitate the rhythmic movement of such -poetry where its impression on our ear is most emphatic. We no longer -possess, that is to say, the stable quantitative basis for its more -subtle distinctions and manifold connections, and the more crude mode -of accentuation, which we do possess in its place, to emphasize our -measure, is intrinsically no sufficient substitute. - -(_γ_) To state, then, finally, what this actual _association_ of the -rhythmical mode of verse with rhyme is, we may go so far as to affirm -that it is the absorption, although to a limited extent, by the more -modern form of versification of the more ancient one. - -(_αα_) The predominant distinction of the natural syllabic quantity -by means of the verbal accent is in fact not an entirely satisfactory -principle of the _mere medium._ It does not arrest the ear's attention, -even on the side of sense simply, so far as to make it appear, -absolutely and everywhere unnecessary, where the ideal aspect of the -poetical content is paramount, to summon the complementary assistance -of the sound and response of syllables and words. - -(_ββ_) It is, however, at the same time necessary in the interest -of metre that an equally strong contrasting force should be set up -to that of the rhyme sound. In so far, however, as it is _not_ the -distinction of syllables in their natural quantity and _its variety_, -which has to be co-ordinated and made predominant, we have, in respect, -to this temporal relation, no other expedient left but the _identical -repetition_ of the same time-measure; in this the element of accented -_beat_ will tend to assert itself in a far more emphatic degree, than -is compatible with the rhythmical system. As an illustration we have -our German rhymed iambics and trochaics, in the recitation of which -far more beat stress is admitted than is proper to the scansion of the -unrhymed iambics of the ancients, although the caesura pause is capable -of bringing into emphatic relief isolated words whose accent is mainly -referable to their meaning, and is capable of further making all that -remains dependent upon them a resisting effect to the abstract equality -of the verse, and by so doing introduces a varied animation. And as -in such a particular case, so we may assert generally, the time-beat -cannot be of actual service in poetry with the force that is required -of it in most musical compositions. - -(_γγ_) Although, however, we may affirm it as a general rule that -rhyme should be associated merely with such verse metres, which, by -virtue of their simple changes of the syllabic quantity and their -continuous recurrence of similar verse feet, do not on their own -independent account give sufficiently effective modality to the element -of sensuous medium in modern languages which admit at all of rhythmical -treatment, yet the application of rhyme to the more profuse syllabic -metres imitated from classical models, as, for instance, to borrow -one example only, the alcaic and sapphic strophe, will not merely -appear superfluous, but even an unresolved contradiction. Both systems -repose on opposed principles, and the attempt to unite them in the way -suggested, can only involve us in a like opposition, which can produce -nothing but a contradiction we are unable to mediate, and which is -therefore untenable. It follows, therefore, that we ought only to make -use of rhyme in cases where the principle of the older versification -merely makes itself effective in more remote implication, and through a -transitional process essentially deducible from the system of rhyme. - -The above, then, are the points which we have sought to establish as, -in a broad sense, of most vital concern to poetical expression in its -contradistinction from prose. - - - -[Footnote 1: _Bildlich,_ here not so much creative as simply plastic or -constructive.] - -[Footnote 2: _Vorliebe._ His interest must be already centred in it.] - -[Footnote 3: _Bildlichkeit_, _i.e._, their claims as images of something -else.] - -[Footnote 4: _Vertauscht._ I have translated "exchanged," but Hegel may -mean "mistaken for."] - -[Footnote 5: It is not very clear what Hegel means by the word -_Bezeichnungen._ "Turns of expression," which first occurred to me, -appears to be covered by _Flexionsformen_ lower down.] - -[Footnote 6: _Gedrungenen._ The idea is suppression into a compact -mass--a cloud unable to burst save in occasional flashes.] - -[Footnote 7: I presume Hegel refers here to the synthetic arrangement -of genuine paragraphs rather than phrases, composition generally.] - -[Footnote 8: _Das eigentliche Wort_. The word, that is, which expresses -the fact in its immediacy.] - -[Footnote 9: More literally, "being remoulded with the life and wealth -of Spirit."] - -[Footnote 10: _Besonnenheit_, _i.e.,_ real thought-fullness.] - -[Footnote 11: _Der künstlerischen Ruhe._ The personal predilection of -Hegel for classic art here once more asserts itself.] - -[Footnote 12: The German word is _Sinnen_, but I think, though the -emotional sense is partly implied, the main emphasis is on a presiding -mind--or rather a wide-visioned genius.] - -[Footnote 13: _Eine sprudelnde Anschauung._ A view of things that -bubbles forth like a fountain.] - -[Footnote 14: That is, the medium of literary form.] - -[Footnote 15: _Ein hartes Band._ The idea is not so much difficult as -unyielding, unmalleable.] - -[Footnote 16: _Zum Ernste des Inhalts_. That is, the earnestness of -a product of mind as such. Hegel seems to contrast with this the -spontaneity of an art which, as inspired by genius, comes to us with -the freshness of Nature herself, take Shakespeare's songs for example.] - -[Footnote 17: _Ungebunden._ That is, it is contingent.] - -[Footnote 18: Hegel calls this the _Verstandesaccent_, and speaks of -this importance (_Bedeutsamkeit_) as a product of the syllables.] - -[Footnote 19: I presume the words _das für sich gestaltete Klingen_ -refer to rhyme.] - -[Footnote 20: _Eine Sammlung in sich_, that is, an independent -collection or aggregate.] - -[Footnote 21: _Anheben_ may possibly mean appearance in the defined -series generally.] - -[Footnote 22: By _Versen_ Hegel means rather lines than a number of -them.] - -[Footnote 23: The dative appears to be a misprint. The passage should -be read _der_ and _die,_ instead of _dem_ and _der_.] - -[Footnote 24: I am not quite sure what Hegel refers to in what he -describes as _das Hinübergreifen des Wortes._ I presume he means what -are known as weak endings to a line.] - -[Footnote 25: _Gedrungen._ I suppose this is the meaning. The entire -passage is a difficult one to follow.] - -[Footnote 26: _Ein allgemeines Hören._] - -[Footnote 27: That is, the accent of the syllables as a mere medium of -uttered speech.] - -[Footnote 28: Lit., has its flank turned, _überflügelt._] - -[Footnote 29: _Die blosse Vergeistigung._] - -[Footnote 30: No other means to divert the ears attention. The sentence -is rather involved, and I have not seen my way to simplify it.] - -[Footnote 31: _Abstract unterworfen._ Hegel apparently means abstract -as detached from the natural medium of language--becoming thereby the -abstract symbol of idea exclusively.] - -[Footnote 32: As in musical art.] - -[Footnote 33: _Seelen-tonen_, _i.e.,_ the wave and flow of the -emotional life itself.] - -[Footnote 34: _In das Spielen_. Hegel repeats his use of the expression -above, _beiher Spielen_, lit., the playing with not as a toy but as -something serious.] - -[Footnote 35: I suppose this is the meaning here of _Sharfsinn,_ but -"subtlety" may be included.] - -[Footnote 36: Indifferent, that is, as asserting the creative freedom -of the poet, he can select his own rhymes as he wills. Hegel, however, -seems rather to miss the essential spontaneity of really good blank -verse.] - -[Footnote 37: So I translate _die innere Subjectivität_, but it may -refer perhaps to the entire creative personality.] - -[Footnote 38: That is, I presume, their relation to romantic art.] - -[Footnote 39: That is, the primary feature changed is that of the -validity of natural quantity.] - -[Footnote 40: _Dem Äusseren Daseyn._ That is, of language.] - -[Footnote 41: _Entfaltung._ Such an explication of rhythmical euphony -as the previous system discloses.] - -[Footnote 42: _Geistes._ All that pertains to conscious life.] - -[Footnote 43: Lit., a blunt or coarse sound, _ein plumpes Klingen._] - -[Footnote 44: _Tonen_ implies sound no less than accent. I have -rendered it in various ways.] - -[Footnote 45: _Von Seiten des Geistes._ Perhaps rather "as aspects of -the poet's intelligence"--that is, with reference to the self-assertion -above explained.] - -[Footnote 46: More nearly related to the natural medium of language.] - -[Footnote 47: _Die Verslehre der Isländer v. Rask, verd. von Mohnike_, -Berlin, 1830, pp. 14-17.] - -[Footnote 48:_Betonte_, see above note on _Tonen._] - -[Footnote 49: _Stämme_, the stem of verbs, rather than the root of -substantives, which would be more correctly _stammwort._] - -[Footnote 50: "Do we moderns face broad reaches such as these, as -did the ancients?" _Falten_, folds, expatiation of subject-matter. -I presume, though I do not recall the context, that the allusion is -mainly to elegiacs.] - -[Footnote 51: _I.e._, more related to active intelligence.] - - - - -III - - -THE SEVERAL GENERIC TYPES OF POETRY - - -The two fundamental aspects, according to which we have hitherto -examined the poetical art were, in the first instance, that of poetical -significance or content _in the broadest sense_, the nature of the -outlook of a poetical composition and the creative activity of the -poet; secondly, poetical _expression,_ not merely respectively to the -ideas which have to be embodied in _words,_ but also to the modes under -which they are expressed and the character of _versification._ - -I. What we, above all, in these respects endeavoured to enforce -consisted in this, that poetry has to embrace the ideality of -conscious life as its content; yet, in its artistic elaboration of -the same, it cannot rest satisfied with the objective form of direct -perception as other plastic arts; nor can it accept as its form the -emotional ideality which alone reverberates through our soul-life, -nor yet that of thinking and the relations of reflective thought. -It has to maintain a mediate position between the extremes of -immediate objectivity and the inner life of feeling and thought. This -intermediate sphere of conception overlaps both sides. From thought it -borrows the aspect of ideal _universality,_ which binds together the -immediate particularity of the senses in more definitive simplicity; -while, on the other hand, its mode of envisagement shares with plastic -art the haphazard[1] juxtaposition of objects in space. The poetic -imagination, moreover, is essentially distinct from thinking in that it -permits, under the mode of sensuous apprehension from which it starts, -particular ideas to remain in an unrelated series or contiguity; pure -thinking, on the other hand, demands and promotes the reciprocal -dependence of determinate concepts on each other, an interstructure of -relations, consequential or conclusive judgments, and so forth. When, -therefore, the _poetical_ imagination in its art-products renders -necessary an ideal unity of all particularity, such integration -may easily meet with obstruction by virtue of the above-mentioned -diffuseness[2] which the nature of its content forbids it wholly to -eschew; and it is just this which puts it in the power of poetry to -embody and present a content in organic and vital inter-connection of -successive aspects and divisions, yet impressed at the same time with -the apparent independence of these. And by this means it is possible -for poetry to extend the selected content at one time rather in the -direction of abstract thought, at another rather under the condition -of the phenomenal world, and consequently to include within its survey -the most sublime thoughts of speculative philosophy, no less than the -external objects of Nature, always provided that the former are not put -forward in the logical forms of ratiocination and scientific deduction, -or the latter as void of all vital or other significance. The function, -in short, of poetry is to present a complete world, whose ideal or -essential content must be spread before us under the external guise of -human actions, events, and other manifestations of soul;life, with all -the wealth and directness compatible with such art. - -2. This explication, however, does not receive its sensuous embodiment -in stone, wood, or colour, but exclusively in language, whose -versification, accentuation, and the rest are in fact the trappings[3] -of speech, by means of which the ideal content secures an external -form. If we ask ourselves now, to put the thing somewhat crudely, -where we are to look for the _material_ consistency of this mode of -expression, we must reply that language is not essentially on all fours -with a work[4] of plastic art, independent, that is, of the artistic -creator, but it is the _life of our humanity itself_ the individual -speaker alone who is the vehicle of the sensuous presence and actuality -of a poetical work. The compositions of poetry must be recited, sung, -acted, reproduced, in short, by living people, just as the compositions -of music are so reproduced. We are no doubt accustomed to read epic -and lyric poetry, and only to hear drama recited and to see the same -accompanied by gesture. Poetry, however, is essentially and according -to its notion, _sonorous expression_, and we may, in particular, not -dispense with this, if a complete exposition of the art is our aim, -for the reason that it is the aspect and the only aspect, under which -it comes into genuine contact with objective existence. The printed -or written letter is, no doubt, also in a sense objectively present, -but it is merely as the indifferent symbol of sounds and words. We -no doubt have in a previous passage regarded words as the purely -external means which give us the signification of ideas. We must not, -however, overlook the fact that poetry, at any rate, so informs the -temporal element and sound of these signs, as to ennoble them in a -medium suffused with the ideal vitality of that, whereof, in their -abstractness, they are the symbols. The printing press merely makes -visible to our eyes this form of animation under a mode which, taken -by itself, is essentially indifferent and no longer coalescent with -the ideal content; it consigns it, in its altered form of visibility, -to the element of time-duration and the sound of ordinary speech,[5] -instead of giving us in fact the accented word and its determinate -time-duration. When we, therefore, content ourselves with mere reading -we do so partly owing to the ease with which we can thus picture to -ourselves what is real as actually uttered in speech, partly because -of the undeniable fact that poetry alone among the arts, in aspects -of fundamental importance, is already completely at home in the life -of spirit, and neither the impression of it on our sense of sight or -hearing give us the root of the matter. Yet for all that, precisely -by virtue of this ideality, poetry, as art, ought not wholly to -divest itself of this aspect of objective expression, if at least it -is anxious to avoid an incompleteness similar to that in which, for -instance, the mere outlined drawing attempts to reproduce the picture -of famous colourists. - -3. As an artistically organic whole referred no longer to a specific -type of exclusive execution on account of the onesided character of its -medium, the art of poetry accepts in a general way for its determinate -form various types of art-production, and it is consequently necessary -to borrow the _criteria_ of our _classification_ of such _poetical -types_ or species from the _general_ notion of artistic production.[6] - -(_A_) In this respect it is, _first,_ and from one point of view, -the form of objective reality, wherein poetry reproduces the evolved -content of conscious life in the ideal image, and therewithal -essentially repeats the principle of plastic art, which makes the -immediate object of fact visible. These plastic figures of the -imagination poetry furthermore unveils as determined in the activities -of human and divine beings, so that every thing, which takes place, -issues in part from ethically self-subsistent human or divine forces, -and in part also, by virtue of obstructive agencies, meets with a -reaction, and thus, in its external form of manifestation, becomes an -_event,_ in which the facts in question disclose themselves in free -independence, and the poet retires into the background. To grasp such -events in a consequential whole is the task of _Epic_ poetry, inasmuch -as its aim is just to declare poetically, and in the form of the actual -facts, either an essentially complete action, or the personalities, -from which the same proceeds in its substantive worth or its eventful -complexity amid the medley of external accidence. And by so doing it -represents the _objective_ fact itself in its objectivity. - -And, moreover, the minstrel does not recite this positive world before -conscious sense and feeling in a way that would seem to announce it as -his personal phantasy, and his own heart's passion; rather this reciter -or rhapsodist recites it by heart, in a mechanical sort of way, and -in a metre which, while it repeats something of this monotony with -its uniformity of structure, rolls onward in a tranquil and steady -stream. What, in short, the minstrel narrates must appear as a part -of real life, which, in respect to content no less than presentation, -stands in absolute independence aloof from himself, the narrator; he is -throughout, in relation that is to the facts of his tale no less than -the manner in which he unfolds them, not permitted wholly to identify -his own personality with their substance. - -(_B_) In direct contrast to epic poetry we have our _second_ type, that -namely of _lyrical_ poetry. Its content is that within ourselves, the -ideal world, the contemplative or emotional life of soul, which instead -of following up actions, remains at home with itself in its own ideal -realm, and, consequently, is able to accept _self-expression_ as its -unique and indeed final end. Here we have, therefore, no substantive -totality, self-evolved as external fact or event, but the express -outlook, emotion and observation of the individual's self-introspective -life shares in what is substantive and actual therein as its own, as -its passion, mood or reflection; we have here the birth of its own -loins. Such a fulfilment and ideal process is not adequately realized -in a mechanical delivery such as we saw was conceded as appropriate -to epic poetry. On the contrary the singer must give utterance to the -ideas and views of lyrical art as though they were the expression of -his own soul, his own emotions. And inasmuch as it is this _innermost -world_, which the delivery has to animate, the expression of it will -above all lean to the musical features of poetical reproduction; -whether permitted as an embellishment or a necessity we shall here meet -with the varied modulation of the voice, either in recitation or song, -and the accompaniment of musical instruments. - -(_C_) Our _third_ and final mode of poetical composition unites the -two previous ones in a new totality. In this we not only discover an -_objective_ exposition, but also can trace its source in the ideal life -of particular people; what is objective here is therefore portrayed -as appertinent to the conscious life of individuals.[7] To put the -case conversely, the conscious life of individuals is on the one hand -unfolded as it passes over into actual life experience, and on the -other as involved in the fatality of events, which brings about passion -in causal and necessary connection with the individual's own action. -We have here, therefore, as in Epic poetry, an action expanded to our -view in its conflicts and issues; spiritual forces come to expression -and battle; the element of contingency is everywhere involved, and -human activity is either brought into contact with the energy of -an omnipotent destiny, or a directive and world-ruling Providence. -Human action, however, does not here only pass before our vision in -the objective form of its actual occurrence, as an event of the Past -resuscitated by the narrative alone; on the contrary, it is made to -appear as actually realized in the particular volition, morality or -immorality of the specific characters depicted, which thereby become -central in the principle of _lyric_ poetry. Add to this, however, that -such individuals are not merely disclosed in their inner experience -as such; they also declare themselves in the execution of passion -directed to ends; whereby they offer a criterion--in the way that -epic poetry asserts what is substantive in its positive reality[8] -for the evaluation of those passions and the aims which are directed -to the objective conditions and rational laws of the concrete world; -and it is, moreover, by this very test of the worth and conditions, -under which such individuals continue in their resolve to abide, that -their destiny is discovered by implication. This objective presence, -which proceeds from the personality itself, no less than this personal -experience,[9] which is reproduced in its active realization and all -that declares its worth in the world, is Spirit in its own living -totality; it is this which, as _action_, supplies both form and content -to _dramatic poetry._ - -Moreover, inasmuch as this concrete whole is itself no less essentially -conscious life than it is, under the aspect of its external -realization, also a self-manifestation, quite apart from all question -of local or other artistic means of realization, we are bound, in -respect to this representation of actual facts, to meet the claim of -genuine poetry that we should have the _entire personality_ of the -individual envisaged; only as such the living man himself is actually -that which is expressed. For though, on the one hand, in the drama, as -in lyric poetry, a character ought to express the content of its own -soul-life as a veritable possession, yet, from another point of view, -it asserts itself, when, in its entire personality it is confronted -with other personalities, as effective in its practical existence, and -comes thereby into active contact with the world around it, by means -of which it attaches itself immediately to an active disposition,[10] -which, quite as truly as articulate speech, is an expression of the -soul-life, and requires its artistic treatment. Already we find in -lyrical poetry some close approach to the apportionment of various -emotions among different individual speakers, and the distribution of -its subject-matter in acts or scenes. - -In the drama, then, subjective emotion passes on likewise to the -expression of action; and, by so doing, renders necessary the -manifestation to our senses of the play of gesture which concentrates -the universality of language in a closer relation with the expression -of personality,[11] and by means of position, demeanour, gesticulation -and other ways is individualized and completed. If, however, this -aspect of deportment is carried forward by artistic means to a degree -of expression, that it can dispense with speech, we have the art of -pantomime, which resolves the rhythmical movement of poetry in a -harmonious and picturesque motion of limbs, and in this, so to speak, -plastic music of bodily position and movement gives animated life in -the dance to the tranquil and cold figures of sculpture, that it may -essentially unite by such means music and the plastic art. - - -[Footnote 1: _Gleichgültige_, that is, the impressions of sense are -received from without, from a manifold indifferent to ourselves.] - -[Footnote 2: _Losheit._ A word coined by Hegel to denote this relation -of poetry to external objects in their independence.] - -[Footnote 3: _Die Gebehrden_, lit., gestures, in which sense it is used -in a subsequent passage.] - -[Footnote 4: We should rather have expected "the material of plastic -art." The contrast is rather between the nature of the medium in each -case than the finished product. So far as the latter is concerned -the musical composition is as dependent, even more dependent for its -presentment on human activity as poetical composition.] - -[Footnote 5: _Des Klingens unseres Gewohnheit._ It is not quite clear -what the meaning is here. The meaning may be as in the interpretation -above. But it is rather difficult to see how, so far as mere print -goes, we can be conscious of actual sound at all, unless it is -intended here to include at least the act of reading; an alternative -interpretation would be the "habitual verbal accent," but we should -in that case have rather expected the substantive _Nachdrucks_ for -_Klingens._] - -[Footnote 6: Hegel means of course that as that notion stands midway -between the objectivity of sense-perception and the concept of thought, -so too this classification will be based on the attitude of the art -either to the personal life, or the objects of sense, as the one aspect -is more strongly represented or the other.] - -[Footnote 7: _Dem Subject._ That is, I understand, the individual -subject generally, not merely the conscious life of the poet or the -singer.] - -[Footnote 8: _In seiner Gediegenheit_, _i.e.,_ as concrete.] - -[Footnote 9: _Dies Subjektive._ The realization of self in the world is -part of that world regarded as a rational and self-conscious process, -Spirit.] - -[Footnote 10: _Sich die Gebehrde anschliesst_, _i.e._ a practical -attitude to the world, involving gesture and other actions.] - -[Footnote 11: Hegel's expression is "the personality of expression," -_i.e.,_ the personal aspect of expression.] - - - - -A. EPIC POETRY - - -The Epos, word, saga, states simply what the fact is which is -translated into the word. It acquires an essentially self-consistent -content in order to express the fact _that it is_ and how it is. What -we have here brought before consciousness is the object regarded as -object in its relations and circumstances, in their full compass and -development, the object, in short, in its determinate existence. - -We propose to treat our subject-matter as follows: - -_First_, we shall attempt to describe the _general_ character of what -is Epical: - -_Secondly_, we shall proceed to some _particular_ features, which in -respect to the real Epos are of exceptional importance: - -_Thirdly_, we shall enumerate by name certain _specific_ methods -of treatment, which have been actually in use in particular epic -compositions within the historical elaboration of the type. - - - - -I. THE GENERAL CHARACTERISTICS OF THE EPIC TYPE - - -(_a_) The most simple, but nevertheless in its abstract concentration, -still one-sided and incomplete mode of epic exposition consists in the -assertion of that which is essentially fundamental and necessary among -the facts of the concrete world and the wealth of mutable phenomena, -and in the expression of such on their own account, as focussed in epic -phraseology. - -(_α_) We may begin our consideration of the type with the _epigram_ -i, in so far as it really remains an epigram, that is an inscription -on columns, effects, monuments, gifts and so forth, and at the same -time points with an ideal finger to something else, and by doing so -explains through words, inscribed on an object, somewhat otherwise -plastic, local, something present outside the words expressed. In -such an example the epigram states simply what a definite fact is. -The individual does not as yet express his concrete self; he attaches -a concise interpretation to the object, the locality, which he has -immediate perception of and which claims his interested attention, an -interpretation which goes to the heart of the fact in question. - -(_β_) A yet further advance may be discovered in the case where the -twofold aspect of the object in its external reality and the fact of -inscription disappears, in so far, that is, as poetry, without any -actual representation on the object, expresses its idea of the fact. To -this class belong the gnomes of the ancients, ethical sayings, which -concentrate in concise language that which is more forceable than -material objects, more permanent and universal than the monument of -some definite action, more perdurable than votive offerings, columns, -and temples. Such are duties in human existence, the wisdom of life, -the vision of that which constitutes in action and knowledge the firm -foundations and stable bonds for human kind. The epic character of -such modes of conception consists in this, that such maxims do not -declare themselves as exclusively personal emotion and reflection, and -also, in the matter of their impression, are quite as little directed -with the object even of affecting our emotions, but rather with the -purpose to emphasize what is of sterling validity, whether as the -object of human obligation or the sense of honour and propriety. The -ancient Greek elegiacs have in some measure this epic tone. We have -still extant a few verses of Solon of this kind, though the transition -here into a hortatory tone and style is easily made. Such include -exhortations or warnings with reference to the common social life, -its laws and morality. We may also mention the gold sayings, which -tradition ascribes to Pythagoras. Yet all such are of a hybrid nature, -and referable to this, that though in general we may associate with -them the tone of our distinct type, yet, owing to the incompleteness of -the object, it is not fully realized, but rather there is a distinct -tendency to involve with it that of another poetical type, in the -present case the lyrical. - -(_γ_) Such dicta may, however, _thirdly_, as already suggested, by -being divested of this fragmentary and self-exclusive isolation, go to -form a larger whole, be rounded off, that is, in a totality, which is -altogether of the _Epic_ type; we have here neither a purely lyrical -frame of mind nor a dramatic action, but a specific and veritable -sphere of the living world whose essential nature, as emphasized in -its general characteristics, no less than as situated to particular -aspects, points of view, occurrences or obligations, supplies us with -an integrating unity and a genuine focal centre. In complete agreement -with this type of epical content, which displays what is of permanent -and universal import along with, as a rule, a distinct ethical purpose -of admonishment, instruction or exhortation to an, in all essentials, -ethically stable life, compositions of this kind receive a _didactic_ -flavour. Nevertheless, by reason of the novelty of their wise sayings, -the freshness of their general outlook and the ingenuousness of their -observation we must keep them quite distinct from more recent didactic -poetry. They wholly justify, inasmuch as they give the necessary -play to matter entirely descriptive, the conclusion that these two -aspects taken together, instruction and description, are directly -deduced as the substantive summary of facts which have been throughout -experienced. As an obvious illustration I will merely mention the -"Works and Days" of Hesiod, the teaching and descriptive power of -which, in its primitive style and as a poetical composition, exercises -a fascination upon us wholly different from the pleasure we experience -in the colder elegance, the scientific or systematic conclusions of -Virgil's poems on agriculture. - -(_b_) The above described modes of epigram, gnome, and didactive -poem accept their _specific_ provinces of Nature or human life as -their subject-matter, while endeavouring to fix attention in concise -language, with more or less limitation of survey, on that which is of -permanent worth and essential truth in this or that object, condition, -or activity; and even under the still more restricted condition -which the art of poetry imposes on such a task the practical result -upon human effort is still maintained. There is, however, a further -or _second_ type of such compositions, which is, on the one hand, -profounder in its penetration, and, on the other, lays less stress -on instruction and reform. Such are the cosmogonies and theogonies, -no less than those most ancient works of philosophy, which are still -unable entirely to liberate themselves from the poetical form. - -(_α_) In this way the exposition of the Eleatic philosophy in the -poems of Xenophanes and Parmenides still remains poetic in form; and -this is exceptionally so in the introduction prefaced by the latter -to his work. The content is here the One, which, in its contrast -to the Becoming or the already Become, all particular phenomena in -short, is eternal and imperishable. No particularity is permitted -to bring content to the human spirit, which strives after truth, -and, in the first instance, is cognizant of the same in its most -abstract unity and concreteness. Expatiating in the greatness of this -object, and wrestling with the might of the same, the impulse of -soul inclines instinctively to the lyrical expression, although the -entire explication of the truths into which the writer's thought here -penetrates carries on its face a wholly practical and thereby epic -character. - -(_β_) It is, _secondly_, the _becoming_ of objective things, in -particular natural objects, the press and conflict of activities -operative in Nature, which supplies the matter of the cosmogonies, -and impels the poetic imagination to disclose in the still more -concrete and opulent mode of actions and events real eventuality. And -the way this faculty does this is by clothing the forces of Nature -in relatively more or less personified or figurative images placed -in distinct stages, and through the symbolical form of human events -and actions. Such a type of epic content and exposition pre-eminently -belongs to Oriental Nature-religions; and above all among them the -poetry of India is to an excessive degree prolific in the invention and -portrayal of such modes of conception, frequently of an unbridled and -extravagant type, concerning the origin of the world and the powers -that are active therein. - -(_γ_) We find, _thirdly_, similar characteristics in theogonies. Such -occupy their true position mainly in so far as, on the one hand, the -many particular gods are not suffered exclusively to possess the life -of Nature as the more essential content of their power and creation, -nor, conversely, is it one god that creates the world out of thought -and spirit, and who, in the jealous mood of monotheism, will tolerate -no other gods beside himself. This fair mean is alone exemplified in -the religious outlook of the Greeks. It discovers an imperishable -subject-matter for theogony-building in the forceful emancipation of -the family of Zeus from the lawlessness of primitive natural forces, -no less than in the conflict waged against them. It is a process and -a strife which we may indeed affirm gives us the historical origins -of the immortal gods of poetry itself. The famous example of such an -epic mode of conception we possess in the theogony known to us under -the name of Hesiod. In this composition the entire course of event is -throughout wedded to the form of human occurrences; it becomes less and -less symbolical just to the extent that the gods, who are summoned to -a spiritual dominion, are themselves liberated through an intelligent -and ethical individuality adequate to their essential nature, and -consequently are rightfully claimed and depicted as acting like -human beings. What is, however, still absent from this type of Epic -composition is, in the first place, a genuinely complete _result_[1] -as poetry. The acts and events, which are within the scope of the -survey of such poems, are no doubt an essentially necessary succession -of occurrence, but they are not an individual action which issues as -from a centre, wherein it discovers its unity and independence. From -a further point of view the content of such poetry does not, and in -virtue of its character cannot, present to us an essentially _complete -whole_. It does, and for the above reason must, exclude the real -activities of mankind, which are indispensable as the truly concrete -material for the active display of the Divine forces. Epic poetry, -therefore, is bound to free itself from such defects, if it is to -receive its most perfect expression. - -(_c_) This actually does take place in that sphere which we may -designate the true _Epopœa._ - -In the types hitherto discussed, which as a rule are wholly passed -over, what we call the epic tone is unmistakably present, but the -content is not as yet poetical in the concrete sense. Particular -ethical maxims and philosophemata still persist as part of the -material. What is, however, poetical in the full sense is concrete -ideality in individual guise; and the epos, inasmuch as it makes what -actually exists its object, accepts as such the happening of a definite -action, which, in the full compass of its circumstances and relations -must be brought with clarity to our vision as an event enriched by its -further association with the organically complete world of a nation -and an age. It follows from this that the collective world-outlook -and objective presence of a national spirit, displayed as an actual -event in the form of its self-manifestation, constitutes, and nothing -short of this does so, the content and form of the true epic poem. As -one aspect of such a totality we have the religious consciousness in -every degree of profundity attained by the human spirit; it furthermore -embraces the particular concrete life, whether political or domestic, -not excluding all the detail of external existence, and the means by -which human necessities are satisfied. All such material the epos makes -of vital account as a growth in close contact with individuals; and -for this reason, that for poetry the universal and substantive is only -realized in the living presence of spirit life. - -Such a comprehensive world, together with the human characterization -it embraces, must then pass before us as real in a tranquil stream, -without any undue haste, either as positive history or dramatic action, -towards its aim and conclusion. We must thereby be permitted to linger -round isolated facts, to penetrate into the different pictures of its -movement and to enjoy them in all their detail. And by this means -the entire panorama receives in its objective mode of realization -the form of an external series of events, the basis and limitations -of which must be implied in the essential ideality of the particular -epic content, and of which the positive assertion is alone absent. -If, consequently, the epic poem is, in its links of connection, more -diffuse, and, by virtue of the relatively greater independence of -portions of it, inclined to suffer from lack of coherency, we must not -allow ourselves the impression that it could ever have been actually -sung throughout in this manner. Rather it is an imperative in its case, -as in that of any other artistic production, that it should be finished -off in an essentially organic whole, which, however, moves forward in -apparent tranquillity, in order that the particular fact and the images -of actual life it contains may engage our interest. - -(_α_) Such a primitive whole is the epic composition, whether known as -the saga, the book, or the bible of a people. We may add every great -and important nation can claim to have such primitive books, in which -we find a mirror of the original spirit of a folk. To this extent -these memorials are nothing less than the real foundations of the -national consciousness; and it would be of profound interest to make a -collection of such epic bibles. Such a series of Epopees, however much -they fell short of artistic compositions in the modern sense, would at -least present to us a gallery of the genius of nations. At the same -time it is doubtless the fact that it is not every national bible which -can claim the poetic form of the epopœa; nor do all nations which have -embodied their most sacred memorials, whether in relation to religion -or secular life, in the form of comprehensive compositions of the -epic type, possess religious books. The Old Testament, for example, -contains no doubt much epic narrative and genuine history, no less than -incidental poetic compositions; but despite of this the whole is not -a work of art. In a similar way the New Testament, as also the Koran, -are mainly limited to a religious subject-matter, starting from which -the life of the world at large is to some extent and in later times a -consequence. Conversely, though the Hellenes have a poetic bible in -the poems of Homer, they are without ancient religious books in the -sense the Hindoos and the Parsees possess such. Where, however, we meet -with the primitive epopoea, we must essentially distinguish between -primitive poetic books and the more recent classic compositions of -a nation, which do not any longer offer us a mirror of the national -spirit in all its compass but do no more than reflect it partially -and in particular directions. The dramatic poetry of the Hindoos, for -example, or the tragedies of Sophocles present no such exhaustive -picture as we find in the Ramajana and the Maha-Bharata, or the Iliad -and the Odyssey. - -(_β_) And insomuch as in the genuine Epos the naïve national -consciousness is expressed for the first time in poetic guise, the real -epic poem will appear for the most part in that midway stage in which, -though no doubt a people is aroused from its stupidity, and its life -is to that extent essentially strengthened to the point of reproducing -its own world and of feeling itself at home therein, yet, for all that, -everything which at a later stage becomes fixed religious dogma or -civic law and ethical rule, still remains in the fluency of life as -mere opinion, inseparable from the individual as such. And along with -this volition and feeling are not as yet held distinct from one another. - -(_αα_) It is only after the separation of the individual's personal -self from the concrete national whole, with its conditions, modes of -opinion, exploits and destiny; it is only, further, after the division -in man himself between his emotion and volition, that the lyric and -dramatic types of poetry in turn replace the epic type and attain their -richest development. This consummation is only reached in the later -life-experience of a people, in which the general lines laid down by -men for the due regulation of their affairs are no longer inseparable -from the sentiments and opinions of the nation as a whole, but already -have secured an independent structure as a co-ordinated system of -jurisprudence and law, as a prosaic disposition of positive facts, as -a political constitution, as a body of ethical or other precepts; and -being so, individuals are now confronted with material obligations -rather as a necessary force external to themselves than one which their -own inner life asserts, and which it compels them to substantiate as -its fulfilment. As opposed to such an already actual and independent -system, the individual life will seek in part to find expression in an -equally independent world and growth of personal vision, reflection -and emotion, which are not carried further into the sphere of action, -and will further give _lyrical_ utterance to its selfabsorption, its -pre-occupation with the content of such a soul-experience. And, in -part also, it will make its active passion of main importance, and -will seek to assert itself independently in action, in so far as it -is able to divest external conditions, the event and its concomitants -of any claim to truly epic self-subsistency. It is just this increase -to the strength and stability of individual character and aims in -their relation to action which opens the way to _dramatic_ poetry. To -return, however, to the epic, we repeat that it is the above-mentioned -unity of feeling and action which it demands, that unity between the -self-fulfilled object of the personal life and the external accident -and event; a unity which, as observed, is only present without blemish -as it first appears in the earliest periods of the national life or the -national poetry. - -(_ββ_) At the same time, we must not yield ourselves, therefore, to the -impression that a people in its heroical time simply as such, and as -the home of its epos, there and then was in possession of art, or could -necessarily depict its life in the mirror of poetry. As a matter of -fact, an essentially poetical nationality in its actual world-presence -is one thing; the art of poetry regarded as the imaginative -consciousness of poetical material, and the artistic presentment of -such a world is quite another. The felt want to express oneself _as -idea_ in terms of the latter, the trained knowledge of art, are later -acquisitions than the life and spirit itself, which discovers itself in -all simplicity at home in its unreservedly poetical existence. Homer -and the poems under his name are centuries later than the Trojan war, -which is to myself quite as much an historical fact as the personality -of Homer. In the same way we may affirm of Ossian, always assuming that -the poems ascribed to him are really his, that he celebrates an heroic -past, the sunset splendour of which inspires him to recall and reclothe -the same in poetical form. - -(_γγ_) Despite, however, such a separation, some intimate bond of -association must exist between the poet and his subject-matter. The -poet must still stand on even terms with the conditions, the general -point of vision, the beliefs which he depicts. All he should find -it necessary to do is to attach to these the poetic consciousness -and the art capable of portraying them; in other respects they are -still essential factors in his own life. If such an affinity as that -above described is absent in our poet's epic creation, his poem must -infallibly contain disparate and irreconcilable features. For both -these aspects--namely, the content, the epic world, which it is the -intention to portray, and the world of the poet's conscious life and -imagination, which is in other respects independent of the above--are -of spiritual derivation; they each of them possess intrinsically a -definite principle, in which particular traits of characterization are -involved. If, then, the personal life of the artist is essentially -of a different order to that by virtue of which the historical and -national life depicted came into actual being, we must necessarily -become conscious of a cleft in the artistic result which will disturb -and injure its effect. We shall have, in short, scenes placed before -us of a previous condition of history, combined with modes of -thought, opinions, and views more pertinent to other periods; and, in -consequence of this, the configuration of primitive beliefs will, in -its contact with the more developed reflection of a later time, lose -the warmth of conviction, become, in short, a mere superstition, an -empty embellishment of the mere poetical instrumentation, from which -all the vitality of its actual life has vanished. - -(_γ_) And this brings us to the general question what position the poet -himself of genuine epic poetry really ought to take up. - -(_αα_) Now, however much the Epos ought also to be positive in the -sense that it is the objective presentment of a world based upon its -own foundations, and realized in virtue of its own necessary laws, -a world, moreover, with which the personal outlook of the poet must -remain in a connection that enables him to identify himself wholly -with it; yet it is equally true that his artistic product, which -reproduces this world, is throughout the _free creation_ of himself. -In this connection we shall do well to recall that fine expression of -Herodotus: "Homer and Hesiod have created the gods of the Hellenic -race." And, in truth, this free and audacious spirit of creation, -which Herodotus attaches to the abovementioned poets, already is -some testimony to the fact that although the Epopœa belongs to the -early age of a nation, it is not its function to depict the most -primitive condition of all. In other words, every nation possesses -in its earliest origins more or less an alien culture of some kind, -is confronted with a religious cult of foreign importation to which -it submits, or which it regards as sacrosanct. And, indeed, we find -that the minstrelsy, the superstition, the barbarous elements in -human life, no less than the most exalted have their source just in -this, that instead of being entirely at home with themselves, they -are experienced as something aloof from themselves, that is not the -natural product of their own national and individual consciousness. -In this way, for example, the Hindoos must certainly, long before -the date of their great Epopees, have experienced many an important -revolution of religious beliefs and secular condition. The Greeks no -less, as previously remarked, had to transform much material of an -Egyptian, Phrygian, and Asiatic descent. The Romans, in their turn, -were confronted with much of a Greek origin; and the barbarians, in -the period of national invasion, with Christian or Roman antecedents, -and so on. Not until the poet is able with a free hand to cast from -him such a yoke, is able to take stock of what he really possesses, -is conscious of his own worth, and we are thereby released from all -perturbed state of mental vision, will the dawn break of a genuine -epic creation. In contrast to such an outlook we have the age and the -society modified by a cult abstract in its origin, with its elaborate -dogmas, established political and moral maxims, all of which take us -away from the concrete life at home with itself. The world of the truly -epic poet maintains its opposition to such conditions. Not merely in -respect to universal forces, passions, and aims which are operative -in the soul-life of individuals, but also in such a poet's attitude -to all external facts, be his creation never so independent, he is -entirely as one in his own province. In just this way Homer is at home -in all that he sings to us of his world, and where we are conscious -of such intimacy in another we are infected with a like feeling, for -we are here face to face with truth, with that spirit which lives in -its world, and discovers therein its true being; and it does us good -to feel this, inasmuch as the poet is himself present therein heart -and soul. Such a world may, indeed, belong to a less advanced stage -of evolution and culture than our own; but at least it does remain -faithful to that of a poetry and beauty which is open to all, so -that we essentially recognize and understand here everything which -our higher life, our humanity in its fundamental demands, whether -it be the honour, the opinions, the emotions, the exhortation, or -the exploits of each and every hero; and we are able to enjoy such -characters, in all the detail of their portraiture, as themselves -united to such a life and the richness of its actual presence. - -(_ββ_) But on account of the emphasis upon the objective independence -of this whole, it is a further necessary contrast that the poet fall -into the background and become lost in his _subject_. What is to -appear is the creation, not the poet; and yet withal, that which the -poem expresses belongs to him. He has imagined all in his mind's eye; -he has implanted there his soul, his genius. All this, however, is -not expressly asserted. So we find, for instance, that at one time a -Calchas will give the outline of events; at another, a Nestor. Yet, for -all that, such interpretative matter is the gift of the poet himself. -Nay, actual changes in the soul-life of his heroes he explains in -objective fashion as an entrance of gods upon the scene, as in the -case where Athene appears before Achilles in his rage, counselling -self-restraint. And inasmuch as the Epos does not disclose the -soul-life of the creator, save indirectly, but the positive facts of -external life, the subjective aspect of his creations must completely -fall into the background, no less than the creator himself vanish -behind the world he unfolds to our vision. From this point of view a -great epic style makes the work appear to be itself its own minstrel. -It seems to pass before us self-begotten, a work of independent birth. - -(_γγ_) Moreover, the epic poem, if a true work of art, is the exclusive -creation of _one_ artist. However much an epic may express the affairs -of the entire nation, it remains the fact that it is the individual -who is the poet, not the nation as a whole. The spirit of an age, of -a people, is no doubt the essential operative cause; but realization -is only secured in the work of art as conceived by the constructive -genius of a _particular_ poet, who brings before our vision and -reproduces this universal spirit and its content as his own experience -and his own product. Poetical composition is a real spiritual birth, -and spirit or intelligence only exist as this or that actual and -individual conscious and self-conscious life. When we have already an -artistic creation in a particular style,[2] we have no doubt something -to start from; and others are then able to copy with more or less -success something like it, just as we have to listen nowadays to some -scores of poems written in the Goethesque manner. To continue to -sing many compositions in the same kind of key, however, will never -create the unified creation, which is throughout the work of _one_ -inspiring genius. This is a point of real importance not only in our -attitude to the Homeric poems, but also the Niebelungen Lied. For the -last-mentioned work we are unable to determine an author with any -historical certainty; and as for the Iliad and Odyssey, the opinion -of some critics is notorious that the Homer of tradition--that is, -the sole author of these books--never existed at all. They are the -production in different parts of various authors, parts which have -finally been patched together in the two larger works we possess. With -regard to such a theory the question of most importance is whether -either or both of these extant works constitute an independent organic -whole in the epic sense, or, as is the view fashionable nowadays, -they possess no inevitable beginning or conclusion, but rather might -be continued on present lines for ever. We may, of course, admit that -the unity of the Homeric poems is, as part of their essential form, -less compact than that we associate with the terse concentration of a -dramatic work. Inasmuch as every separate portion may be and may appear -as relatively independent, they give free play to many interpolations -and abrupt transitions; but, despite of this, they do unquestionably -constitute throughout a true, ideally organic, and epic totality. Such -a whole can only be the composition of _one_ author. This notion of -a conglomerate without essential unity, of a mere patching together -of various rhapsodies composed in a similar strain, is a wild sort of -idea opposed to all artistic canons. Of course, if such a view merely -amounts to this, that the poet, in his bare individuality, vanishes -in his creation, it is the highest form of praise. This is merely a -statement that we are unable to recognize any positive traces of wholly -personal opinions and feeling. So much is certainly true of the Homeric -poems. What we have before us, and we have only this, is the positive -fact, the objective outlook of a people. But the song of a people -requires a voice, a voice which can sing forth the contents of heart -and soul, as harvested from the national granary; and an essentially -self-integrated work of art calls for yet more than this from the -_unique_ genius of its creator. - - - - -2. PARTICULAR CHARACTERISTICS OF THE GENUINE EPOS - - -We have previously in our consideration of the general character of -epic poetry briefly drawn attention to certain incomplete types, which, -although of an epical strain, are not epopees in their completeness. -They, in short, neither represent a national condition, nor a concrete -event, within the boundaries of such a sphere. It is these latter -features, which were then excluded, which offer us for the first time -a content wholly equal to the perfected Epos, whose fundamental traits -and conditions are thus stated. - -Having recalled these points it becomes necessary now to investigate -more closely what it is we require by way of completing our notion -of the epic work of art. We are, however, on the threshold of this -enquiry confronted with the difficulty that we have little or nothing -to say on features of specific interest, if we confine our attention -to generalities; Ave must rivet our attention on historical evidence, -and those varied epic and national compositions, works which on account -of the extraordinary diversity of the times and peoples to which they -refer do not make us very hopeful of securing either a definite or a -congruous result. We find, however, some compensation in the fact, that -from among all the many epic bibles of the past we can place our finger -on one at least, in which we have the clearest evidence of all which it -is possible to establish as the true and fundamental character of the -genuine epos. Such are the Homeric poems. These, then, above all, will -be the source from which I shall borrow the characteristics, which, -in my view, essentially determine the nature of such poetry, whether -from the point of view of fact or theory. We propose to summarize our -enquiry under the following heads: - -_First_, we have to deal with the question, of what structure _the -general_ world condition ought to be, on the basis of which the epic -event is permitted to receive an adequate reproduction. - -_Secondly,_ we shall investigate the quality of this specific type of -historical event itself. - -_Lastly_, we shall direct attention to the form in which these two -aspects of our subject-matter coalesce and are completed in the unity -of a single work of art, that is, in the epic poem. - -(_a_) _The General World-condition of the Epic Poem_ - -We have already, when Ave started on this subject, seen that it is not -a single isolated action which is accomplished in the true epic event; -the subject of the narrative is not, in short, a wholly accidental -occurrence, but an action which is dove-tailed into the entire -complexus of a particular age and national circumstances, which in -consequence can only be placed before us with success as a constituent -part of an extensive world, demanding as it does the reflection of such -a world in its entirety. In respect to the actual poetical content of -this background I shall be brief, inasmuch as I have already indicated -the fundamental points of interest when, in the first part of this -work, I discussed the general world-condition which the ideal action -presupposed. In the present context therefore I shall restrict myself -to the question what is of most importance to the Epos simply. - -(_α_) That which is most adapted, as the all-embracing condition of -human society, to form the background of the Epos consists in this, -that it already possesses for particular individuals the form of a -positive condition actually present, and yet continues with them in -closest association with the simplicity of primitive life. For if the -heroes who are placed as the crowning fact of all, are first to found a -collective condition the determination of what is or ought to come into -existence falls into the more personal sphere of character to a greater -extent than is compatible with the nature of the Epos, and therewith -all appearance of the same as objective reality is impossible. - -(_αα_) The relations of ethical life, the aggregate of the family, of -the people regarded as a complete nation, not merely with a view to -war, but also in their peaceful security, must have become a positive -fact in their evolution; yet along with this their organization cannot -as yet have assumed the settled form of co-ordinate regulations, -obligations, and laws independent in their validity of the direct -personal and private activities of individuals, and possessive of the -power to maintain themselves against such particular wills. Rather it -is the _intuitive sense_ of right and fairness, the moral habit, the -temperament, the personality, which supply the support, as they are -the source, of such a social order; we have, in short, no theoretic -intelligence in its precipitated form of prosaic reality able to -establish and secure such a resistance to the heart, the opinions and -passions of individuals. We may dismiss the thought that a community -with a fully organized constitution and an elaborate system of law, -judicial courts, government officials and police, would supply the -environment of a really epic action.[3] The conditions of positive -morality must, no doubt, be present in the general will and conduct, -but the instruments of its realization can only be the action and -personality of individuals, and a determinate mode of its existence, of -universal application and independent stability, is necessarily absent. -We find, in short, in the Epos no doubt the substantive reciprocity -of objective life and action, but we find no less a freedom in this -world of life and action, which has all the appearance of originating -exclusively from the isolated volition of individuals. - -(_ββ_) The same considerations apply to the relation of the individual -to the _natural_ environment, from which he borrows the means to -_satisfy_ his wants, no less than discovers the best way to do so. -In this respect, too, I would refer the reader back to what I have -observed at greater length, when discussing the external definition of -the Ideal. - -What mankind requires in its external life, house and farm, tent, -settle, bed, sword, lance, the ship, in which he crosses the sea, the -chariot, which bears him into battle, his soup, his roast of meat, and -drink--not one of these things need perforce become to him a lifeless -instrument; he ought still to communicate to the same something of his -entire life and substance, his essential self, and thereby leave the -stamp of his own human individuality, by his active association on that -which is otherwise wholly external. Our present life with its machinery -and factory-made products, no less than the kind of way we seek to -satisfy generally the needs of our external life, is in this respect -quite as much as that of our political organization, wholly unfit to -form the background which the Epos in its primitive guise demands. For -just as the scientific faculty with its generalizations, its imperious -conclusions, delivered independently of all personal views, can never -have asserted its claim under the world-condition of the poetic type -we are considering, so, too, we may assume that man did not yet appear -divested of his vital connection with Nature, and the fresh and -vigorous comradeship, whether as friends or opponents, which is therein -implied. - -(_γγ_) Such is the world-condition which, in a previous passage, and -in contrast to the idyllic, I have called the _heroic._ We find it -depicted in Homer with the noblest poetry, and with all the wealth -of entirely human characterization. We have no more here, whether in -domestic or public life, a barbarous state of things, than we have -the wholly conventional prose of a regulated family and political -organization; what we do find is that primitive mean of poetry much -as I have already described it. A fundamental feature in such a -condition is unquestionably the free individuality of all the principal -personages. In the Iliad, for example, Agamemnon is, no doubt, a -king of kings--all other chieftains are subject to his sceptre--but -his superiority is no merely formal mutual relation of command and -submission of the lord, that is, to his vassals. On the contrary, -much circumspection is required of him; he must be shrewd enough -to know where he ought to give way, for each particular chieftain -is independent even as himself; they are not merely governors or -generals summoned by him. They have assembled around him of their -own free will, or are induced to follow his lead in a variety of -ways. He must take counsel with them; and if they disagree with his -judgment they are at liberty, as Achilles did, to remain aloof from -the battle. It is this freedom of acceptance, no less than this free -right to assert disapproval, which secures the absolute independence -of such individuality, and attaches its poetical atmosphere to every -situation. We find much the same thing in the poetry of Ossian, as also -in the relation of the Cid to the princes, whom this poetical hero of -romantic and national chivalry serves as vassal. In Ariosto and Tasso -this free relation is still unimpaired; and indeed in Ariosto the -individual heroes set forth in practically unqualified independence on -their own path of adventure. And the mass of the folk stand in much the -same relation to their leaders as that of the separate chieftains to -Agamemnon. These too follow voluntarily. There is still no paramount -legal obligation by which they are constrained. Honour, reverence, -humility in the presence of men more mighty than themselves, ever able -to enforce that might, the imposing presence of the heroic character -in short and all it implies, such are the essential grounds of their -obedience. The order of domestic life is maintained in a similar way. -It is not enforced as an accepted rule of service, but as dependent -on personal inclination or ethical habit. All is made to appear as -though it had grown up spontaneously. Homer, for example, tells us of -the Greeks, when narrating one of their battles with the Trojans, that -they had lost many valiant fighters, but not so many as the Trojans; -and the reason given is that they were always mindful to ward off from -one another the extreme of necessity. In other words, they assisted -each other. And if we, in our own days, had occasion to define the -difference between a well-disciplined and an uncivilized army we -could not express it more directly than by laying stress on this very -coherence and spirit of cameraderie, this unity enforced by all in -a felt association, which distinguished the former. Barbarians are -simply human mobs, in which no individual can rely on his neighbour. -What, however, in our modern example, being as it is the final result -of a stringent and tedious military discipline, rather appears as the -exercise and command of an established regime, in Homer's case is still -an ethical habit asserted of its own accord, springing from the vital -strength of the individual in his private capacity. - -We may explain in a similar way Homer's great variety in his -descriptions of Nature and external condition. In the prose romances of -our own day we do not find much stress laid on the natural aspects of -things. Homer, on the contrary, gives us every detail in his portrayal -of a staff, sceptre, bedstead, armour, clothing, doorpost; he does -not even omit to mention the hinges on which the door turns. Such -things appear to us wholly outside our attention and insignificant; or -rather we may say that it is the tendency of our education to affect -an extremely severe superiority to a whole number of objects, matters, -and expressions, and we deliberately classify in their claim to our -notice such things as various kinds of dress, furniture, implements, -and so on. Add to this the fact that in our day all the means supplied -or prepared for the satisfaction of our wants are so split up into -every kind of machinery product from work-shop and factory, we come -to regard the medley of supply as something beneath us, neither -deserving enumeration or respectful attention. The heroic existence -is, on the contrary, confronted with a primitive simplicity of objects -and inventions; it readily lingers on their description. All these -possessions are, in short, regarded as of one standard of value, as -chattels or instruments in which man still discovers evidence of his -craftsmanship, his positive wealth and interest whereof he may be -justly proud. His entire life is not abstracted from such material -things, nor exclusively occupied with a purely intellectual sphere. -To slaughter oxen and prepare their flesh for the table, to pour out -wine and things of that sort are part of the heroic life, carried out -with purpose and delight; with us a meal, if it is not to be a very -commonplace affair, must not merely carry with it something of the -culinary art, but is incomplete without really good conversation. -Homer's detailed descriptions in these matters must not therefore be -looked upon as a purely poetical embellishment of things of little -moment; such a copious attention is nothing more or less than the -actual spirit of the men and circumstances depicted. We find just the -same prolixity of speech on external things in the case of our own -peasants; and for that matter do not the dandies of our own day dilate -without limit upon their stables, horses, top-boots, spurs, pants, and -the like. In contrast to a life of profounder intellectual interest -such things will doubtless appear somewhat jejune. - -Such a world ought not merely to embrace the _limited_ universality -of the particular event, which occurs on the _definite_ background -presupposed; it must coalesce in its expansion with the _entire -horizon_ of the national vision. We have a supremely fine example of -this in the Odyssey, which not only brings us into contact with the -domestic life of the Greek chieftains, their servants and subordinates, -but also unfolds the richest variety with its tales of the many -opinions of foreign peoples, the hazards of sea-life, the dwellings -of distant lands, and so forth. But in the Iliad also, though the -nature of its subject restricts to some extent the horizon of our -vision, and not unnaturally on its battle-fields has comparatively -little to tell us of more tranquil scenes, Homer, at least, has on the -shield of Achilles managed in a wonderful way to give us a view of -the entire compass of terrestrial existence, no less than human life, -in marriages, judicial affairs, agriculture, the might of armies, the -private wars of cities, and much else. And these descriptions we 'shall -do well not to regard as a wholly incidental feature of the poem. In -contrast to such a treatment the poems we identify with the name of -Ossian introduce us to a world that is too limited and indefinite. It -has for this very reason rather a lyrical character; and as for Dante -we may say that his angels and devils inhabit no truly positive world -open to our detailed approach; it exists solely as instrumental to -the final fruition or due punishment of mankind. And above all in the -Nibelungenlied the absence is complete of any definite realization of -a visible world or environment, so that the narrative tends in this -respect to assume the strain or tone of the mere balladsinger. The -narrative is, no doubt, diffusive enough; but it is all much as if -some journeyman had picked it up first as gossip, and then retailed -it as such afterwards. We are not brought to close quarters with the -facts, but are merely made aware of the impotence and tedious effort -of the poet. This wearisome expanse of poetical debility becomes of -course even more pronounced in the Book of Heroes, until finally the -whole business is handed over to the true poetical journeyman, in other -words, the Master singers. - -(_β_) Furthermore, for the reason that the Epos has to embody in art a -specific world, in all its separate characteristics carefully defined, -one, in short, for this reason itself essentially individual, the -mirror of such a world must be that of a one _particular_ people. - -(_αα_) In this respect all truly primitive Epopees present to our view -a national spirit in the ethical structure of its family life, its -public dispositions in times of peace or war, its wants, arts, usages, -and interests--in a word, a picture of the relative type and stage -of the national consciousness. What the epic poem reveres more than -anything else, observes most narrowly, that which, as previously -noted, it expatiates upon, is the power to let our inward eye see as -in a mirror the individual genius of nations. We have presented us, -as the result of such a gallery, the world-history itself, and what -is more, we have it in its beautiful, free, and emphasized vitality, -manifestation, and deed. From no source, either so impregnate with life -or simplicity, can we, for example, better understand the Hellenic -spirit and Greek history, or at least grasp the principle of that -content, which this people embodied, and which it brought with it when -it first set forth to engage in the conflict of its wholly authentic -history, than from this of the poet Homer. - -(_ββ_) Now the national substance in its realization is of a _twofold_ -nature. First, we have an entirely _positive_ world of specialized -usage or custom peculiar to the nation in question, a definite period -of history, a definite environment, whether geographical in its -streams, hills and forests, or in its climatic situation. Secondly, -we have that ideal _substance_ of its spiritual life, whether in -the religious sphere, the family or the community generally. If -thus an Epos of the primitive type is, under the conditions already -indicated, to be and remain a permanently effective bible, the -nation's Book, in that case that which is positive in the reality -of the Past can only claim such a continuously vital interest in so -far as the characteristic features accepted are placed in an ideal -connection with the actually substantive aspects and tendencies of the -national life. Otherwise what claims to be of positive value will be -entirely contingent and a matter of indifference. Native geographical -conditions, for instance, enter into the conception of nationality. But -if they do not confer on a folk its specific character, the addition of -other natural environment, provided that does not contradict national -character, is not in certain cases prejudicial to the effect, but may -even prove attractive to the imagination. No doubt the sensitive -experience of youth is interwoven with the immediate presence of its -native hills and streams; but where the deeper bonds of the entire -spiritual outlook are absent, such an association assumes a more or -less external character. And, apart from this, where we have, as in -the Iliad, a warlike expedition, it is impossible to preserve the -_locale_ of the fatherland. In such a case the scenery of a foreign -land in itself fascinates and attracts. The enduring vitality of an -Epos is, however, more seriously impaired, where, in the course of -centuries, the spiritual consciousness and life has so entirely changed -that the links between the more recent Past and the original point of -departure already adverted to are completely severed. This is actually -the case with the poet Klopstock in another province of poetry, where -he attempts to establish a national religion, and, in order to do -so, gives us his Hermann and Thusnelda. We may affirm the same kind -of defect of the Nibelungenlied. The Burgundians, the revenge of -Chriemhilda, the exploits of Siegfried, the entire social condition, -the fated downfall of an entire race and many like facts--all this is -no longer vitally held together with the domestic, civil, and judicial -life, the institutions and constitutions of the present day. The -biography of Jesus Christ, with its Jerusalem, Bethlehem, and Roman -jurisdiction, even the Trojan war itself, come home to ourselves far -more nearly than the events of the Niebelungen; the latter are for -present consciousness a state of things wholly gone for ever, swept -away once and for all with a besom. To attempt to compose of such -something of national significance, to say nothing of a national bible, -betokens the extreme limit of folly and superficiality. In times when -it was rashly[4] assumed that the flame of youthful enthusiasm had -flashed up anew, such a conceit was taken as a proof of the sere leaf -of an age once more become childlike in the approach of death; and it -refreshed itself with a past that was dead, and deemed it possible to -associate others with a similar refreshment and renewed presence. - -(_γγ_) If, however, a national Epos is to secure in addition the -permanent interest of foreign nations the world which it depicts must -not merely be of a _particular_ nationality, but of a type that is, in -this specific folk, its heroism and exploits, equally impressed with -the stamp of our common humanity. In the poems of Homer, for example, -the superb directness with which he deals with matters of divine or -ethical import, the nobility of the characters and of everything living -therein embraced, the pictorial quality of their presentment to the -reader, all this insures an undying truth for succeeding ages. In this -respect we find a remarkable contrast in the creation of different -peoples. We cannot deny, for instance, that the Ramajana reflects -with the essential directness of life the national spirit of the -Hindoos, more particularly from the religious point of view; but the -character of the entire Hindoo race is so overpoweringly of a unique -type, that the essential features of our common humanity are unable to -assert themselves through the veil of this national idiosyncracy. A -remarkable contrast to this is the way in which the entire Christian -world, from the earliest times, has found itself at home in those epic -passages of Old Testament narrative, above all in the pictures of the -patriarchal state, and able to repicture for itself to the life the -events portrayed over and over again with the greatest enjoyment. The -testimony of Goethe is unequivocal. Here was the _one_ focal centre, -he assures us, on which, in his young days, amid much that he learned -of a miscellaneous and unconnected character, his intellect no less -than feeling concentrated itself. Even in later life he still remarks -upon them that "after all our wanderings through the East we always -returned in the end to these writings as the most invigorating spring -of waters: here and there they might be troubled; not unfrequently they -hid themselves in the earth; but it was only to rise up again pure and -fresh as ever." - -(_γ_) _Finally_, the general condition of a particular people must -not in this tranquil universality of its individual character wholly -oust what is more directly the object of the Epos, in other words, be -described with no reference to that. It ought only to appear as the -_foundation_, upon which an event throughout its entire process is -transacted, one which is in contact with all aspects of the national -life, and one which illustrates the same as it proceeds. Such an -eventuality must not be a purely external incident; it must imply a -deliberately conceived purpose executed by equally deliberate effort. -If, however, these two aspects, namely, the general condition and the -particular action, do not coalesce, then the event in question must -seek its justification in the particular circumstances, the causal -conditions which dominate its movement. That is practically to say the -world of Epos which is reproduced must be conceived under a specific -situation which is so concrete that the definite objects which it is -the function of the epic narrative to realize, are necessarily made -explicit by it. We have already, when discussing the ideal action,[5] -pointed out on general lines that this realization presupposes -situations and circumstances which bring about collisions, actions -that do injury and consequently necessary reactions. The particular -situation, therefore, in which the epic world-condition of a nation -is made actual to us, must of itself be essentially one implying such -_collisions._ In this respect, therefore, epic poetry enters the field -already occupied by dramatic poetry; and we may find it convenient at -once to determine in what respects the collisions of these two types of -poetry differ. - -(_αα_) Under the broadest review of this question we may say that the -conflict of the _belligerent_ condition is that which supplies the -Epos with its most pertinent situation. In war it is obviously the -entire nation which is set in activity, and which, as a whole placed -under similar conditions, is moved and stimulated in a novel way, -in so far at least as it possesses any claim, as such a whole, to -participate in it. We may admit that the above conclusion stands in -apparent contradiction not merely with Homer's Odyssey, but also the -subject-matter of many poems that are epic in an otherwise intelligible -sense. It finds, however, ample corroboration in the majority of the -most famous Epopees. Moreover, the collision of operations in the -events of which the Odyssey informs us, derives part of its source -from the Trojan war; and even under the aspect of domestic life in -Ithaca, no less than that of the home-returning Odysseus, although the -narrative is no actual account of conflicts between Greeks and Trojans, -yet it deals with facts which are the immediate consequence of that -war. Nay, it is itself war under a new aspect, for many chieftains are -forced to reconquer their homes, which after their ten years' absence -they find under wholly altered conditions. We have practically but one -example of the religious Epos, Dante's "Divine Comedy." Even here, -too, the fundamental collision is deducible from that original Fall of -the evil angels from heaven, which brings in its train and within the -sphere of human experience the ever active external and ideal conflict -between the Divine Father and the conduct of men, whether hostile or -well-pleasing to Him, a conflict eternally perpetuated in condemnation, -purification, and blessedness, or in other words, hell, purgatory, and -paradise. Also, too, in the Messias it is the former war against the -Son of God which supplies the focal centre. At the same time the most -vital and truly pertinent examples are those which actually describe -the belligerent state. We have already drawn attention to such in the -Ramajana, and, most instructive of all, in the Iliad; further examples -are the famous poems of Ossian, Tasso, Ariosto, and Camoens. In war -_courage_ is and remains the fundamental interest; and warlike courage -is a state of the soul and an activity, which is neither so suitable -for lyrical expression nor for dramatic action, but is pre-eminently -adapted to the descriptive power of the Epos. In dramatic poetry it is -rather the ideal strength or weakness of spiritual life, the ethically -justified or reprehensible pathos which is the main thing: in the -Epos, on the contrary, it is rather the native characteristics of a -personality. For this reason, where it is national exploits which are -undertaken, bravery is in its right place; it is in fact not an ethical -state,[6] in which the will is determined through its own initiative -as an intelligent consciousness and volition. It rather depends on -natural temperament, unites in direct equilibrium, as by fusion, with -the sphere of self-conscious life, and, in order to bring into effect -practical ends, which can be more fitly expressed in epic description -than under the conceptions of lyrical emotion and reflection. And -these conclusions with regard to bravery in war apply with equal force -to the exploits of war and their consequences. The activities of -personal volition and the accidents of the external event supply the -two scales of the balance. The bare event, with its wholly material -obstructions, is excluded from the drama, inasmuch as here what is -exclusively external is not permitted to retain an independent right, -but is causally related to the aim and ideal purposes of individuals, -so that as to all contingent matter, if by any chance it appears to -arise and to determine the result, we are none the less compelled to -look for the real operative cause and justification thereof in the -spiritual nature of human character and its objects, no less than in -that of its collisions and their necessary resolution. - -(_ββ_) A basis of the epic action such as this of active hostilities -is obviously the source of a very varied subject-matter. We may have -placed before the imagination a host of interesting actions and events, -in which bravery in action supplies the leading rôle, and the claim -of external forces, whether asserted in circumstance or incident, is -maintained unimpaired. At the same time we must not overlook a respect -in which the possibilities of epic narration is essentially restricted. -It is only wars waged between one foreign nation and another which -partake of a truly epic character. In contrast to this conflicts -between dynasties, civil wars and social revolution, are more suited -to dramatic exposition. And in fact Aristotle long ago[7] advises -the tragic poet to select subject-matter which is concerned with the -conflicts of brother against brother. Of this type is the war of the -Seven against Thebes. It is Thebes' own son who storms the city; and -its defender is the actual brother of the aggressor. Hostility of -this type is something more than that of a mere foe; its significance -is bound up with the individuality of the opposed brothers. We have -similar examples with every kind of variety in Shakespeare's historical -tragedies. In these, almost without exception, agreement between -particular individuals is what might be legitimately looked for, and -it is only the private motives of individual passion and a personality -absorbed in its own aims and satisfaction which bring about collisions -and wars. As an example of an action of this kind treated in the epic -manner, and therefore defectively, I will mention the "Pharsalia" of -Lucan. However indisputably important the conflicting aims in this -poem may appear to be, yet for all that the opposing parties are here -too closely related on the common ground of one fatherland: their -conflict, consequently, instead of being a war between two national -entities, is nothing more than a strife of parties, either of which, -by the very fact that it splits asunder the substantive national -unity, points in one direction, namely, that of tragic guilt and -demoralization. Held to this the objective facts are not placed before -us in their clearness and simplicity, but are inweaved with one another -in a confused manner. The same objections are equally pertinent to -Voltaire's Henriad. In contrast to this the hostility of _foreign_ -nations is something substantive. Every nation constitutes a totality -essentially distinct from and in opposition to that of another. When -these come into conflict we do not feel that any positive ethical -connection is shattered, nothing at least of essential value to either -is violated,[8] no necessary whole broken into fragments. Rather it is -a conflict waged in order to maintain such a totality unimpaired and to -justify its claim to be so. Hostility therefore of this type is suited -in every way to the essential character of epic poetry. - -(_γγ_) Not every war, however, waged under ordinary conditions -between two hostile nations is necessarily on that account of an epic -character. We must have a further condition satisfied, namely, the -justification on broad historical grounds for the bellicose attitude -thus adopted. Only when we have this do we obtain a picture of an -enterprise at once novel and more exalted, which does not present -the appearance of something apart from universal history, the purely -capricious subjugation of one state by another, but is absolutely and -essentially rooted in a profounder principle of necessity, however -much at the same time the more superficial and obvious motive of -the undertaking may assume from one point of view the aspect of -deliberate wrong,[9] and from the other that of a private revenge. -We have something analogous to such a situation in the Ramajana. But -the supreme example is that of the Iliad, where the Greeks invade an -Asiatic people, and in doing so fight out as it were the preludic -conflict of a tremendous opposition, the wars of which practically -constitute the turning point of Greek history as we see it on the -stage of universal history. Of the same type is the struggle of the -Cid against the Moors, or in Tasso and Ariosto the battles of the -Christians against the Saracens, or in Camoens the strife of the -Portuguese against the Indians. And indeed we may assert that in all -the greatest Epopees we find nations which differ from each other in -moral customs, religion, and language, in a word, in all that concerns -their spiritual and external life, brought into collision; and we are -ready to contemplate such without any revulsion on account of the -triumph we find asserted there of a nobler principle of world-evolution -over a less exalted, a victory assured by a bravery that is simply -annihilating. If any one should, in this sense, and in emulation of -past Epopees, which have sought to depict the triumph of the West over -the East, of the European principle of moderation, of the individually -articulate and truly organic type of beauty over Asiatic splendour, -over the magnificence of a patriarchal unity, which does not attempt to -secure such organic completeness, or is at least merely held together -by abstract and superficial conjunctions, if such, I say, should aspire -to write the Epopee of the future, he will be necessarily restricted -to the portrayal of the victory of some future and intensely vital -rationality of the American nation over the prison-house of the spirit -which for ever pursues its monotonous task of self-adjustment and -particularization.[10] In the Europe of our day every nation finds -itself conditioned[11] by its neighbour, and cannot venture on its own -account to wage any war with another European nation. If we lift our -eyes beyond Europe, there can be only one direction, America. - -(_b_) _The Individual Epic Action_ - -It is on such an essentially limited foundation then of conflict -between entire nationalities that the epic event is realized, the -leading characteristics of which we have now to determine. We may -summarize the form we propose our investigation should take as follows: - -_First_, what actually takes place consists essentially in this that -the object of the epic action ought necessarily to be of _individual -vitality_ and definition, however much it may rest on a basis of the -most general extension. - -_Secondly_, for the reason that it is only of individuals that we can -predicate actions we have the problem to solve of the general nature of -the epic _character_ or personality. - -_Thirdly_, in the epic eventuality the form of objectivity is not -exclusively that of external appearance: it consists quite as much in -the significance of all that is itself intrinsically necessary to and -substantive in the exposition. We have consequently to determine the -form in which this intrinsic significance of the occurrence proclaims -itself as effective, either in part as the ideal necessity which is -therein concealed, or as the disclosed direction[12] of eternal and -providential forces. - -(_α_) We have postulated as a necessary background of this epic world -an enterprise of national significance, in which the entire compass of -a national spirit can express itself in the bloom and freshness of its -heroic condition. From this fundamental substratum in its simplicity -we now further assume the apparition of a _particular_ end, in the -realization of which all other aspects of the national character, -whether in belief or action, can be represented to our vision. The -original postulate is in fact bound up in the closest way with such an -all-embracing actuality. - -(_αα_) This purposed object, which is infused with the vital principle -of individuality on the lines of which, regarded in its particularized -content, the entire process moves forward, must further, as already -ascertained, appropriate to itself in the Epos the form of an _event_. -It will be therefore above all important to recall at once the specific -character of the mode, under which human volition and action generally -combine in what we designate as the event. Now, in the _first_ place, -action and adventure are the outcome of conscious life, the content -of which is not only ideally expressed in emotions, reflections, and -thoughts, but also quite as much in a practical way. We may regard -such realization from two distinct points of view. _First,_ we have -the ideal substance of the end presupposed and purposed, the general -character of which the individual must recognize, will, calculate and -accept. _Secondly_, there is the external reality of the spiritual or -human and the natural environment, within which he is only able to -act, and the accidental features of which at one time obstruct and at -another assist his path; so that either in the one case he is carried -forward by virtue of this favour to a successful issue, or, if in -the other he is not prepared wholly to give way to such opposition, -he finds it necessary to overcome them with his individual energy. -If now the world covered by this volitional power is conceived as -the indivisible unity of these two aspects, with the result that the -right of assertion by both is equally asserted, in that case what -is most pertinent to conscious life likewise enters into the formal -structure of the event, the form, that is, which confers on all human -action the _configuration of events_, in so far as the conscious or -subjective will, with its purposes, motives of passion, principles -and aims, can no longer appear the fact of most importance. Or, in -other words, in human _action_ everything is referred back to human -personality, personal obligation, opinion and intention. In the case of -the _event_, on the contrary, the external constitution of things is -permitted to assert its inviolable claim. Here it is objective reality -itself, which constitutes either the form assumed by the whole, or from -another point of view a fundamental part of the content. In agreement -with such a view I have already stated that it is the function of epic -poetry to demonstrate the _happening_ of an action, and thereby not -only to establish the external disposition of the execution of ends, -but also to meet as readily the claims of external condition, natural -occurrences, and all else of a contingent character, which, in action -taken simply as such, the ideal element of conscious life claims -exclusively as its province. - -(_ββ_) With regard to the _particular_ end, the carrying out of which -the Epos unfolds under the mode of the event, it follows from our -previous conclusions that it must be no mere mental _abstraction_, -but on the contrary of wholly _concrete_ definition. At the same -time, inasmuch as it is realized within the substantive actuality of -the national unity, such a process must exclude the notion of merely -capricious activity. The political state as such--the fatherland, -let us say--or the history of a State and country, are essentially -something universal, which, regarded in the light of such universality, -does not appear under the mode of a subjectively individual existence, -or, in other words, in inseparable and exclusive coalition with one -definite living individual. For this reason the history of a country, -the development of its political life, its constitution and destiny -may also no doubt be narrated as event; if, however, the facts thus -described are not placed before us as the concrete deed, the conscious -aim, the passion, the suffering and accomplishment of particular -heroes, whose individuality supplies the form and content of the -realization in all its parts, the event merely assumes the rigid -form of its independent forward movement in the prosaic history of a -people or an empire. In this respect no doubt the most exalted action -of Spirit would be the history of the world itself. We can conceive -it possible that our poet might in this sense undertake to elaborate -in what we may call the absolute Epos this universal achievement on -the battlefield of the universal spirit, whose hero would be the -spirit of man, the _humanus_, who is drawn up and exalted from the -clouded levels[13] of conscious existence into the clearer region of -universal history. But in virtue of the very fact of its universality -a subject-matter of this kind would so be quite unfitted for artistic -treatment. It would not adapt itself sufficiently to individualization. -For on the one hand we fail altogether to find in such a subject a -clearly fixed background and world-condition, not merely in relation to -external _locale_, but also in that of morality and custom. In other -words, the only basis for all we could possibly presuppose would be the -universal World-Spirit or intelligence, whom we are unable to bring -visibly before us as a particular condition, and who is possessed of -the entire Earth as his local environment. And in like manner too the -one end fulfilled in such an Epos could only be the end proposed by the -World-Spirit himself,[14] who can only be apprehended and explicitly -disclosed in his true significance through the processes of thought. If -he is, however, to be represented in the form of poetry, or, at least, -if the whole is to receive its proper meaning and coalescence from -such a source, it is necessary that his presence should be expressed -as that which acts independently from its own resources. This could -only be possible for poetry, in so far as the ideal Taskmaster of -history, the eternal and absolute Idea, which is realized in humanity, -either was envisioned as a directive, active, perfecting individual -person, or was merely made effective under the concealing veil of an -ever-operative Necessity. In the first case, however, the infinity of -such a content must shatter the necessarily limited artistic vessel -of determinate individuality, or, as the only way of avoiding such a -defect, must assume the inadequate form of a dispassionate allegory -of general reflections over the destination of the human race and its -education, over the final purpose of mankind, its moral consummation, -or over whatever result the end of this World-history might establish. -In the alternative case it is the genius of the various peoples which -has in each example to be presented (in the heroic figure) in the -conflicting existence of whom history expands and moves forward in -progressive evolution. If, however, the genius of nations is really -to appear in poetical form this can be carried out in only one way, -namely, by placing before us the actual world-historical figures as -operative through their deeds. We should, however, then merely have a -series of particular characters, which emerged and again disappeared in -a wholly external succession, the objects of which lacked individual -unity and connection; and this would be so for the reason that the -controlling World-Spirit, under our conception of it, as the ideal -essence and destiny, could not, in the case supposed, be set forth as -itself an active individual and the culminating agent in the process. -And if, further, anyone was desirous of appropriating the spirits of -different nationalities in their universality, and of displaying them -as agents in such a substantive form, we should still only have a -similar series, the individuals whereof, apart from the fact that they -would merely possess an appearance of positive existence similar to -Hindoo incarnations, would, in the fictitious form of the imagination -they received pale into nothingness when contrasted with the truth of -the World-Spirit as realized in actual history. - -(_γγ_) We may consequently lay it down as a general principle that the -particular epic event is only able to secure a vital form in poetry -when it is united in the closest state of fusion with _one_ individual. -Precisely as it is _one_ poet who thinks out and executes the whole, -so too _one_ individual must crown the edifice, with whom the event is -associated and in connection with whose single identity it is continued -and completed. - -We must point out, however, that here too we are limited by essential -conditions. For just as in our previous discussion it was the -world-history, so too now, from the converse point of view, it is -possible that the biographical treatment in a poetic composition of -a definite life-history may appear to supply the most complete and -adequate subject-matter of the Epos. This, however, is not the case. No -doubt in biography the individual is one and the same throughout; but -the events, through which the life-development proceeds, may entirely -fall apart, and only retain the subject of the same in a wholly formal -and accidental bond of relation. If, on the other hand, the Epos is -essentially homogeneous, the event also, in the form of which the -content of the poem is disclosed, must itself possess intrinsic unity. -Both aspects, in short, the unity of the individual and that of the -objective event, as it is evolved, must coalesce and be united. In the -life and exploits of the Cid it is unquestionably true that on the -field of the Fatherland it is only one great personality which without -intermission remains true to himself, and in his development, chivalry -and end constitutes the interest. His deeds pass before him, much as if -he were the sculptured god; and finally all is gone and vanished for -us, no less than for himself.[15] But the poems of the Cid are also as -rhymed chronicles no genuine example of the Epos; and, in their later -form of romances, they are, as their specific type necessitates, merely -isolated situations split off from this national hero's life, which do -not necessarily coalesce in the unity of a particular event. - -The finest examples, however, of the observance of the above rule -are to be met with in the Iliad and Odyssey, where Achilles and -Odysseus are respectively the prominent figures. The Ramajana, too, -resembles these poems in this respect. Dante's "Divine Comedy" is an -illustration, but in quite a unique way. In other words, it is the Epic -poet himself with whose single personality, in his wanderings through -hell, purgatory, and paradise, all and everything is so associated that -he is able to recount the picture of his imagination as a personal -experience, and is consequently entitled to interweave with the general -substance of his composition his private emotions and reflections to a -larger extent than is possible for other epic poets. - -(_β_) However much then, speaking generally, epic poetry informs us -of actual fact and its occurrence, and thereby makes the objective -world its content and form, yet on the other hand, inasmuch as what -happens is an _action,_ which passes in successive views before us, -it is rather, and for this reason, to _individuals_, and their deed -and suffering that the main emphasis is attached. For it is only -individuals, be they gods or men, who can veritably act; and just in -proportion as they are interwoven in the vividness of life with such a -panorama, to that extent they are entitled to attract the main interest -to the fulness of their exposition. From this point of view epic poetry -stands on level terms with lyric no less than dramatic poetry. It is -therefore of some importance that we attempt to define more closely -what the _specific_ features are which distinguish the portrayal of -personality in the epic composition. - -(_αα_) Now, first, what is essential to the objective aspect of an epic -character--I am speaking mainly of the leading personages--is that -they should be themselves essentially a _totality_ of such traits, in -other words complete men, and thereby display in themselves all aspects -of emotional life, or to put it better, should represent in a typical -way, national opinion and its active pursuits. In this respect I have -already in the first part drawn attention to the heroic characters -of Homer; and, in particular, to the variety of genuinely human and -truly national qualities which Achilles unites in himself so vitally, -the hero of the Odyssey supplying an admirable companion picture. The -Cid is similarly presented us with much variety of characterization -and situation, as son, hero, lover, husband, father, householder, and -in his relations to king, friends, and foes. Other Epopees of the -Middle Ages are a great contrast, far more abstract in their type of -personification, particularly so where their heroes merely champion the -cause of chivalry as such, and are removed from the sphere of the true -and actual life of the nation. - -It is then the fundamental characteristic of the exposition of epic -personality that it should unfold itself as such a totality in the most -diverse scenes and situations. The characters of tragedy and comedy may -no doubt also possess a similar wealth of ideality; for the reason, -however, that in their case the sharp contrast between a pathos that is -never other than one-sided and a passion opposed to it is within very -definable limits and ends the thing of most importance, such a varied -character is in part, where it is not entirely superfluous, at least -more in the nature of a prodigality which is incidental, and in part -is also, as a rule, overpowered by the _one_ passion, its motives and -ethical considerations, and thus forced by the type of presentation -into the background. In the whole of the epic composition, on the -contrary, all aspects assert an equal right to assert themselves, -and expand with freedom and breadth. That they should do so is -indeed fundamental to the principle of epic composition; and from a -further point of view the personality here, in virtue of the entire -world-condition he presupposes, possesses a right to be, and to make -all that valid wherein his existence is realized, and for the good -reason that he lives in an age to which precisely this _objective_ -being, this immediate individuality is appropriate. It is, of course, -for instance, quite possible for us, with regard to the wrath of -Achilles, to point out, as moral reflection may suggest, the injury -and loss which that wrath entailed, and therefrom to conclude that the -superiority and greatness of Achilles is very appreciably removed from -any approach to ideal perfection, whether as hero or man, having no -power apparently on a single occasion to moderate his anger or exercise -self-restraint. But for all that we do wrong in blaming Achilles. And -this is not because we may overlook the wrath in virtue of his other -great qualities. Achilles is, in other words, simply nothing more or -less than this portrait. So far as Epic poetry is concerned, that is -the end of the matter. The same observations apply to his ambition and -his love of glory. The main justification of these great characters -is the energy of their achievement; they carry, in fact, a universal -principle in their particularity. Conversely, ordinary morality tends -to depreciate its native personality, and hold in reserve the resources -of its life-force, and discovers its essential being in this attitude. -What an astonishing self-esteem, for instance, an Alexander asserted -over his friends and the life of I know not how many thousands. -Self-revenge, even traits of brutality, testify to an energy of the -same type in heroic times; and even in this respect Achilles, in his -rôle of epic hero, has little to learn. - -(_ββ_) And it is just on account of this fact that such preeminent -figures are complete individuals, who have in resplendent degree all -that concentrated in them which otherwise is diffused and separate in -the national character, and thereby are throughout great, free, and -humanly beautiful characters that they are rightly set in the chief -place; and we find that the event of most significance is inviolably -linked with such individuality. The nation is, as it were, focussed -as a single living soul in them, and as such they fight out its main -enterprise, and suffer the hazards of its resulting experience. In -this respect Gottfried von Bouillon, in Tasso's "Jerusalem Liberated," -is no such overpowering figure as Achilles, this typical youthful -bloom and perfection of the entire Grecian host; nor is he even an -Odysseus, although he is selected as the wisest, bravest, and most -just of leaders to command the entire army. The Achæans are unable to -win a victory if Achilles stands aloof from the contest; it is he -alone who, by means of his triumph over Hector, carries victory into -Troy itself; and in the return home of Odysseus we find a mirror of -the return of all the Greeks from Troy, only with the difference that -it is just in that which it is his destiny to endure we have placed -exhaustively before our vision the entire compass of the sufferings, -life experience, and conditions which are implied in the whole -subject-matter. The characters of the drama, on the other hand, are not -so represented as in themselves the absolute crowning point of all the -rest, which becomes objective in and through them. They rather are set -forth independently and for themselves in their purpose, which they -accept as the outcome of their character, or as the result of definite -principles which have grown up in conjunction with their more isolate -personality. - -(_γγ_) There is a _third_ distinguishing feature in epic -characterization due to the fact that the Epos does not portray -an action simply as action, but an event. In drama the matter of -importance is that the individual manifests himself as operative for -his specific purpose, and is expressly represented in such activity and -its consequences. This undeviating consideration for the realization -of a distinct purpose is absent in the Epic. No doubt in this case, -too, heroes have desires and aims, but the main thing here is all that -they may happen to experience while fulfilling it, not the nature of -their conduct in the carrying it out. The circumstances are just as -active as themselves, frequently more active. The return to Ithaca, -for example, is the actual project of Odysseus. The Odyssey, however, -does not merely display this character in the active execution of his -predetermined end, but expands its account into all the variety of -occurrence which he happens to experience in his wanderings, what he -suffers, what obstructions meet him in the way, what dangers he has to -overcome, and all, in fact, that moves him. And this varied experience -is not, as would be necessary in the drama, a direct result of his -action, but is in great measure rather incidental to his journey, in -the main even independent of the concurrent action of the hero. After -his adventures with the Lotophagi, Polyphemus, and the Laestrygones, -the godlike Circe detains him for a full year. Further, after he has -visited the lower world and suffered shipwreck, he dallies with -Calypso, until he falls into home-sickness, wearies of the damsel, and -stares with tearful eyes over the solitary sea. Thereupon it is Calypso -herself who finally provides him with the means wherewith he builds -his boat, who provides him with food, wine and raiment, and takes her -right anxious and kindly farewell of him. Finally, after his sojourn -among the Phæacians, he is carried in sleep--he knows not how--to the -shores of his island. To carry out a purposed end in this sort of way -would not be possible for dramatic poetry. Again, in the Iliad, the -wrath of Achilles, which, along with all else that results from this -compelling force, constitutes the specific object of the narrative, is -throughout not an end, but rather an emotional state. When Achilles is -insulted he rages. In this condition, so far from doing anything truly -dramatic, he withdraws apart, does nothing with Patroclus by the ships -on the seashore, sullenly angry that he is not honoured by the lord of -the folk. Then follow the consequences of his retirement, and only at -last, when his friend has been slain by Hector, do we find Achilles -once more plunge into the conflict. In another way, again, is the end -prescribed to Æneas, which he has to carry out, where Virgil recounts -all the events as the result of which its realization is in such varied -ways postponed. - -(_γ_) We have just one further important feature to mention in respect -to the form of the event in the Epos. I have already observed that -in the drama the conscious will, and that which the same demands -and wills, is essentially the determining factor, and constitutes -the permanent foundation of the entire presentation. All that is -carried out appears throughout as posited already by the personal -character and its aims; and the main interest above all turns upon the -justification or its absence of what is done within the situations -presupposed and the conflicts they bring about. If consequently it so -happens also that in the drama the external conditions are themselves -active, they nevertheless only retain their validity by virtue of -that which conscious feeling and volition makes of them, and the -ways and means under which character reacts upon them. In the Epos, -however, the circumstances and external accidents are effective on -level terms with the personal will itself. All that man accomplishes -passes before us precisely as any other event of the world outside -him, so that the human exploit is in this case likewise and equally -conditioned, and must be shown to be carried forward by the development -of such an environment. The individual, in short, in epic poetry does -not merely act freely of himself and independently. He is placed in -the midst of an assemblage of facts, whose end and actuality in its -wide correlation with an essentially unified world of conscious life -or objective existence supplies the irremovable foundation of the -life of each separate individual. This typical system is, in fact, -predominant in the Epos through all its content, whether in that of -passion, determined result, or general achievement. It is true that -at first sight we might expect that, on account of an equal cogency -being accorded to external condition in its independent eventualities, -we should find indisputable opportunity given for every shade of -contingency. And yet we have seen that it is the function of the Epos -to present what is truly objective--what is, in short, essentially -substantive existence. The solution of this contradiction is to be -found in this, that the principle of _necessity_ is involved in the -events, whether taken in detail or generally. - -(_αα_) In this connection we may affirm of the Epos--not, however, as -is generally assumed of the drama--that _Destiny_ is a predominant -force. No doubt the dramatic character by the kind of end accepted, -which he endeavours to carry out despite all obstruction under the -circumstances given and recognized, makes of _himself_ his Destiny; -but in the Epos, on the contrary, it is _made for him_, and this force -of circumstances, which stamp their particular form on the deed, -apportions to each individual his lot, determines the result of his -actions--is, in short, the genuine control of Destiny. What happens -is appertinent to itself. It is so, and only thus; it is the fiat of -necessity. In lyric poetry we are conscious of emotion, reflection, the -personal interest, and yearning. The drama converts the ideal claim -of human action into an objective presence. The presentation of epic -poetry, on the other hand, moves, as it were, within the element itself -of essentially necessary existence. Therefore, the individual has no -choice but to follow this particular substantive condition; and, in -its process of being, to adapt himself to it or not, and then to suffer -as he is able and is forced to suffer. Destiny, in short, defines what -is and inevitably must be, and in the result success, misadventure, -life, and death are plastic precisely in the sense that individuals -are plastic. What does actually unfold before us is a condition of -universal expanse, in which the actions and destinies of mankind appear -as something isolated and evanescent. This fatality is the great -justice, and is not tragic in the dramatic sense of the term, in which -the individual appears judged as a _personality_, but in the epic sense -in which judgment is passed on man in all that concerns him.[16] The -tragic Nemesis consists in this, that the greatness of his concerns is -too great for the individual concerned. Consequently a certain tone of -sadness[17] prevails over the whole. What is most glorious is seen very -early to pass away. In the fulness of his life Achilles mourns over his -death; and at the conclusion of the Odyssey we view him and Agamemnon -as spirits that have passed away as shades, with the consciousness that -they are shades. Troy, too, falls; old Priam is slain hard by the altar -of the home; women and maidens become slaves. Æneas, in obedience to -the divine command, departs to found a new kingdom in Latium, and the -victorious heroes only return after manifold suffering to the happiness -or bitterness that awaits them at home. - -(_ββ_) This necessity of events may, however, be represented in very -different ways. - -The most obvious and least elaborate is the bare exhibition of such -events without any further explanation of the poet of a necessary -element existing in the particular occurrences and their general -consequence by his addition of a controlling world of gods disclosed in -the decision, interference, and co-operation of eternal powers. In such -a case we must, however, have the feeling brought home from the entire -atmosphere of the exposition, that in the recounted events and great -life-destinies of single individuals and entire families or races, we -are not merely confronted with what is mutable and contingent in human -existence, but with destinies which have an essential foundation, -whose necessity remains, however, the obscure operation of a power -which is not placed before us poetically as such a power in its divine -controlling energy to the point of defined individualization and in -its explicit activity. The Niebelungenlied retains this general tone -strongly, albeit it does not ascribe the direction of the blood-stained -final result of all committed deed either to Christian Providence or -the pagan world of gods. For in regard to Christendom, we merely hear -of churchgoing and mass. We have, indeed, the remark of the bishop -of Spejevs to the beautiful Ute, when the heroes withdraw into king -Etzel's country: "Please God, He will keep them there!" We have also no -doubt dreams of warning, the prophecy of the Danube maidens to Hagen, -and other examples of a similar kind, but no really conclusive witness -to the control and interference of gods. This leaves an impression on -this poetry as of a something unriddled, unyielding, a mournfulness -that is at the same time objective, and consequently wholly epic in -its tone. It is a great contrast to the poems of Ossian, in which -in the same way no gods appear, yet in which, on the other hand, we -find lamentation over the death and downfall of the entire heroic -stock presented under the form of the private sorrow of the dismayed -minstrel, and as the yearning of a woe-begone recollection. - -Essentially distinct from the above type of conception is the complete -interlacement of all human destiny and natural event with the -resolution, volition and action of a many-sided world of gods such -as we find in the great Hindoo Epopees, and in Homer, Virgil, and -others. I have already expressly drawn attention to the varied poetic -interpretation which the poet himself supplies of events, which are -apparently accidental, through his assumption of the co-operation and -apparition of gods, and attempted to enforce the same by particular -examples from the Iliad and the Odyssey. Here we may observe that the -condition of most importance to the poetry in question is that in this -reciprocal action of gods and men the relative independence of both -aspects is maintained, so that neither the gods fall into lifeless -abstractions, nor the human individuals become purely subservient -vassals. How such a danger is to be avoided I have already discussed -at length in a previous passage. The Hindoo Epos is in this respect -unable to force its way fully to the truly ideal relation between -gods and mankind; on such a stage of imaginative symbolism the human -aspect still remains aloof in its free and beautiful actuality, and the -activity of individuals in part appears as the incarnation of gods, -and in part, as something of more incidental merit, vanishes, or is -depicted under the guise of ascetic exaltation to the condition and -power of gods. Conversely the variously personified powers, passions, -genii, angels, and so forth, that we meet with in Christendom possess -for the most part too little individual independence, and consequently -tend only to affect us in a cold and abstract sort of way. The case is -much the same in Mohammedanism. Through the deification of Nature and -the world of mankind, through the conception of a prosaic co-ordination -of reality, it is hardly possible to avoid the danger, more -particularly where we enter a region of fairyland, wherein a miraculous -interpretation is given to that which is essentially contingent and -indifferent in external circumstances, which are themselves only -present as a simple occasion for human action and as the ordeal of -individual character, without possessing therewith an ideal consistency -and foundation. By reason of this no doubt the infinitely extensible -connection of cause and effect is broken, and the many sections in this -prosaic concatenation of circumstances, which cannot be throughout -made clearly distinct, are brought all of a sudden into one union. If, -however, such a result is secured without the principle of necessity -and ideal reasonableness, such a mode of elucidation, as, for example, -frequently in "The Thousand and one Nights," appears as little more -than the sport of an imagination, which endeavours to unfold as -causality possible and actual, by means of such inventions, what is -otherwise incredible. - -The fairest mean, on the other hand, in this respect is that retained -by Greek poetry, inasmuch as it is able to bestow both on gods and -men a reciprocally indestructible power and freedom of independent -individuality. And such is harmonious with its fundamental standpoint. - -(_ββ_) There is, however, particularly in the epic conception of it, -a point of view relative to the collective world of gods, which I -have already referred to above in another connection. This is the -contrast which the _primitive_ Epopee presents to the _artificial_ -composition of later times. This difference is very pronounced if -we compare Homer and Virgil. The level of education, from which the -Homeric poems originated, still continues in a fair harmony with the -poetic subject-matter. With Virgil, on the contrary, we are reminded by -every single hexameter that the general outlook of the poet is totally -different from the world, which it is his endeavour to depict; and -the gods more particularly have lost the freshness of their original -vitality. Instead of being living persons in their own selves, actual -witnesses to us of their existence, they have rather the appearance -of being mere creations of the poet and external instruments, which -it is neither possible for the poet or his audience to take quite -seriously, although there is an open pretence made that they have been -taken thus seriously. Throughout the whole of the Virgilian Epic we -feel ourselves in the atmosphere of ordinary life; the old tradition, -the saga, the fairyland of poetry enters with prosaic distinctness -into the frame of our common-sense faculties. What we have in the -Æneid is very much what we find in the Roman history of Livy, where -ancient kings and consuls make speeches, precisely as an orator made -his speech in the Agora of Rome, or the school of the rhetoricians in -the days of Livy himself. And, on the other hand, in what is really -retained from tradition, as an example of primitive speech, such as -the fable of Menenius Agrippa[18] about the functions of the belly, we -find a contrast which is almost repulsive. In Homer, however, the gods -are wafted in a magical light between poetry and reality: they are not -permitted to approach the imagination so nearly, that the apparition of -them confronts us with all the detail of ordinary life; nor are they -left so undefined, that they lose all appearance of vital reality as we -look at them. All that they do is readily explained by the soul-life -and activities of men; and that which supports our faith in them is -the substance and content upon which they essentially repose. From -this point of view the poet, too, is thoroughly in earnest with his -creations, though he treats with irony their form and external reality. -In agreement with this it appears that the ancients themselves believed -in this external form merely as works of art, which receive their -confirmation and significance as a gift of the poet. This light-hearted -and human freshness of presentment, in virtue of which the gods appear -human and natural, is one of the pre-eminent qualities of the Homeric -poems. The divine figures of Virgil float before our vision as so many -invented wonders, as members of an artificial system. Virgil has not -wholly escaped the charge of mere travesty, despite his earnestness; -nay, this earnest mien of his is rather the cause of it, and Blumauer's -Mercury with his boots and spurs and riding-whip is not without its -justification. There is no necessity for any one else to make the -Homeric gods ridiculous. His own picture of them makes them quite -ridiculous enough. Nay, in his own story the gods themselves have their -laugh over the lame Hephestus, and over the cunning net in which Mars -lies in company with Venus, to say nothing of the box on the ear that -Venus gets, and the howl of Mars as he collapses. By means of these -touches of natural lustiness and gaiety the poet at once liberates -us from the external form which he set up, and enforces all the more -emphatically our common human nature, which he values, and which -suffers, however, the necessary and substantive power involved therein, -and the faith in the same, to remain. But one or two more examples of -similar detail. The tragic episode of Dido is so entirely to the modern -colour, that it was able to inspire a Tasso with emulation, nay, even -in part to a literal translation. Even nowadays the French are moved -to something like ecstasy over it. And yet how totally different in -their human naïveté, simplicity and truth are the Homeric narratives of -Circe and Calypso. The contrast is the same in Homer's account of the -descent of Odysseus into Hades. This obscure and twilight like retreat -of the shades is shown us through a dusky cloud, in an intermingling of -imagination and reality, which takes hold of us with astonishing force. -Homer does not suffer his hero to descend into any Underworld ready to -hand. Odysseus himself digs a pit, and pours therein the blood of a ram -he has killed; he summons the shades, which are then under constraint -to circle round him, and bids some of them drink fresh blood that they -may address him, and give him news, and drives away others with the -sword as they throng round him in their thirst for life. Everything -that happens here is bound up with the life of the hero, whose general -demeanour is the reverse of the humble attitude of Æneas and Dante. In -Virgil's account Æneas descends in the ordinary way; and the flight -of steps, Cerberus, Tantalus, and all the rest leaves us with the -impression of a definitely organized family establishment, quite to the -pattern of an orthodox compendium of mythology. - -With yet more force will this artificial _compôte_ of the poet appear -as such rather than a work that springs naturally from the subject -where we are already cognisant of the substance of the tale that -is told us in its fresh and primitive form, or as actual history. -Examples of this are Milton's "Paradise Lost," the "Noachid" of -Bodmer, Klopstock's "Messias," Voltaire's "Henriade," and others. In -all these poems we cannot fail to detect a real cleft between the -content and the reflection of the poet which modifies his description -of the events, characters and circumstances. In Milton's case, for -example, we find emotions and observations obviously the growth of an -imagination and ethical ideas inseparable from his own age. In the -same way with Klopstock we have God the Father, the history of Jesus -Christ, patriarchs and angels combined with our German education of -the eighteenth century, and the ideas of Wölffian metaphysic. This -twofold aspect asserts itself in every line. No doubt in these cases -the content itself offers many difficulties. For God the Father, -the heaven of the angels, and the angelic host are far less adapted -to the individualization of a free imagination than are the Homeric -gods, which, in a manner similar to the in part fantastic creations -in Ariosto, in their external mode of appearance, and so far as they -do not epitomize[19] human action, but rather independently confront -each other as individuals, do of themselves suggest the gibe over such -a presentment.[20] Moreover Klopstock, so far as a religious outlook -is concerned, introduces us to a world devoid of foundation, which he -crowds with the brilliant effects of a rather exhausting imagination, -and compels us to take everything as seriously as he means it himself. -This is particularly unfortunate in the case of his angels and devils. -Such creations only really have substance and can be brought home to -us in their individuality in so far as the material of their actions, -as with the Homeric gods, is rooted in the spiritual experience of -humanity, or in a reality already known to us, as in cases where -they claim importance as being the guardian spirits or angels of men -or cities, but who, apart from such a concrete significance, assert -what is just so much the more merely the vacancy of imagination in -proportion as a serious actuality is ascribed to them. Abbadona, -for instance, the repentant devil,[21] possesses neither a truly -allegorical meaning--for in the abstract notion of devil there can be -no inconsistency of guilt which can be converted into virtue--nor is -such a figure one that is essentially and truly concrete. If Abbadona -were a man, a conversion to God would no doubt be reasonable; but -where we have evil regarded as something independently substantive, -which is not an individual human evil, such a conversion is merely -a triviality of sentimental emotion. It is in fact a distinguishing -characteristic of Klopstock's invention that it creates such unreal -personages, conditions and events, which have nothing in common with -the actual world and its poetical content. And he fares no better in -the machinery of his judicial condemnation of riotous living in high -places, least of all in the contrast he presents to Dante, who condemns -the famous personalities of his time to hell with a power of detailed -realization of another type altogether. Equally destitute of real -content as poetry is the joy of the resurrection among the assembled -spirits of Adam, Noah, Shem, Japhet, and the rest, as depicted by -Klopstock, who, in the 11th canto of the Messias, at the command of -Gabriel, once more revisit their graves. Reason and rational ground -are alike absent here. The souls have lived in the Divine Presence; -they now behold the Earth, but they enter into no renewed relation -with it. We may presume that they could not do better than appear to -men; but of this there is not a single example. No doubt we find here -beautiful emotions, endearing situations; and above all the moment in -which the soul is once more united to a body is depicted in a way that -arrests us; but the _content_ remains none the less an invention that -possesses no real claim to credibility. In contrast to such abstract -ideas the blood-drinking of the phantoms in Homer, their reanimation -in memory and speech, possess for us infinitely more the truth and -realization of ideal poetry. And though from the point of view of -imaginative resource these pictures of Klopstock are decorative enough, -what is most essential in them is throughout the lyrical rhetoric of -angels, who appear merely as instruments of service, or of patriarchs -and other Biblical figures whose speeches and harangues have little in -harmony with their historical characters as we have received the same -from tradition. Mars, Apollo, War, Knowledge, and so forth--powers of -this kind are neither in respect to their content wholly inventions, as -the angels are, nor are they simply historical persons borrowed from -historical sources, as are the patriarchs; they are on the contrary -permanent forces, whose _form_ and mode of appearance is alone the -_poet's creation._ In the "Messias," however, admitting its excellence -in certain directions--its purity of feeling, the brilliancy of its -phantasy--yet it cannot be denied that by reason of the very type of -such a phantasy we have here very, very much indeed that is hollow, -without definite substance, and utilized simply as machinery for -something else, all of which, combined with the absence of continuity -in the content and its mode of conception, has even already covered -the entire poem with oblivion. Things only live and remain green, -which, essentially vital in themselves, unfold to us original life -and activity in their pristine mould. For this reason we must hold -fast to the primitive Epopees, and keep aloof, not only from modes -of conception which are antagonistic to the actual presence which is -vindicated in such, but also and above all from false aesthetic theory -and predilection, at least if we are really anxious to enjoy and study -the original world-outlook of nations, that great and spiritual[22] -natural history. We have every reason to congratulate recent times, -and our German nation in particular, that it is now on the road to -the attainment of this object; that it has, in short, broken through -the former obtuseness, of ordinary methods of thinking, and by its -liberation of the mind from restricted views made it more receptive -to ideas of the world which it is imperative that we as individuals -enter into, and which alone are able to restore to us, to the full -extent of their claim, the resurrected spirits of nations, whose ideal -significance and deed thus appear struck into life in these their own -Epopees. - -(_c_) _The Epos as Unified Totality_ - -Hitherto, in considering the necessary qualifications of a genuine -Epos, we have on the one hand discussed the _general_ world-environment -and from a further point of view the nature of the particularized event -transacted on such a background by _individuals_ either acting under -the direction of gods or subject to destiny. These two fundamental -aspects have yet further to coalesce in one and the same epic totality. -In respect to this I will merely confine the reader's attention to the -following points of interest: - -In the _first_ place we propose to consider the _collective aggregate -of objects_, a satisfactory exposition of which is necessary to -disclose the connection between the particular action and the -substantive ground referred to. - -_Secondly_, we have to examine the nature of the difference which -obtains between the epic mode of _disclosure_ and that of lyric or -dramatic poetry. - -_Thirdly_, we have to deal with the _unity_ in which an epic composition -is rounded off despite all its breadth of extension. - -(_α_) The content of the Epos, as already observed, is the entirety of -a world in which an individual action is eventuated. In such a world -the greatest variety of objects appear necessarily appertinent to the -general views, deeds, and conditions of such a world. - -(_αα_) Lyrical poetry is, no doubt, involved in definite situations, -within which the subject of the lyric is permitted to import a great -variety of content into its emotion and reflection. In this type of -poetry, however, it is throughout the form of conscious life itself -which characterizes such content; and for this reason excludes the -outlook on the objective world in all its breadth of extension. -Conversely the dramatic composition presents us characters and the -carrying out of the action itself with all the animated appearance -of life, so that here, too, the portrayal of local accessories, the -external form of the active personages and all that happens, in the -nature of the case tends to disappear. As a rule, what we have to -express is the soul-motive and purpose rather than its extensive -relations with the surrounding world of objects, or a description of -individuals in their positive appearance as part of them. In the Epos, -however, quite apart from the national actuality in the widest sense, -upon which the action is based, we must find room for the ideal or -soul aspect no less than the external or world aspect. We have in this -type, therefore, under review and in coalescence the entire totality -of all that we may reckon as comprised in the poetic presentation of -our human existence. In this content we must not merely include on -the one side the natural environment in the sense of this or that -specific locality in which the action takes place, but also the more -universal objective outlook such as I have already pointed out is a -feature we find illustrated in the Odyssey, enabling us to understand -how the Greeks in the times of Homer regarded the shape of the Earth, -the configuration of the seas, and similar geographical facts. At the -same time these natural aspects are not the object of most importance -in the poem; they are merely the foundation; there is, in short, the -further and more essential aspect of the composition unfolded in -the existence, activities, and co-operation of the entire world of -divinities; and between these two extremes we have humanity simply as -such in its collective relation to domestic, public, peaceful, and -warlike situations, ethical habit, customs, characters and events. And, -moreover, throughout we have to assume in both directions, whether -that is from the point of view of the individual event, or the general -condition, the all-embracing national and other actual complexus. - -Finally, if we consider the nature of this intelligible content it -is not merely an external _événement_ that is presented us, but -in conjunction with such we must have, too, placed before us the -ideal world of emotion, the aims and purposes of mind, all that may -contribute to justify or condemn a deliberate line of conduct. In -short, the real subject-matter of lyric and dramatic poetry is not -wholly excluded, although in the epic type these aspects merely are -valid as subordinate features; they do not, as in the former cases, -constitute the essential form of the exposition, nor do they deprive -the Epos of its distinctive character. We may consequently affirm that -the distinctive note of the Epic is absent, when lyric expression -determines both tone and colour, as is the case, for example, in -Ossian, or when passages are emphasized in which the execution of -the poet is made as consummate as possible, as is to some extent the -case with Tasso, and to a still more marked degree characteristic of -Milton and Klopstock. Emotions and reflections ought rather, no less -than the portrayal of objective fact, to be transmitted as something -done, already spoken and thought, and not interrupt the tranquil -course of the Epic narrative. The incoherent exclamation of emotion, -the direct outcry of the soul mainly intent with its utterance upon -self-revelation, is out of place in such poetry. It will for the same -reason and as strongly abstain from an imitation of the animation -of dramatic dialogue, in which individuals carry on a conversation -as though face to face with each other, where the aspect of most -importance throughout is the contrast presented by different types of -character in their interchange of speech as they strive to convince, -command, impose upon, or passionately unravel their motives to one -another. - -(_ββ_) And, _secondly_, the Epos has not merely to bring before -our vision the manifold content above described in its actually -independent and subsistent objective form, but also the form in -which it essentially becomes the Epos is, as I have more than once -already described it, an _individual_ event. If this essentially -limited action is to remain united with all other material introduced, -this additional accretion of fact, must throughout be brought into -definite relation with the course of the individual event, that is to -say, it must not fall outside it as independent. We could not find a -more perfect illustration of this interweaving of all threads than -that of the Odyssey. The domestic arrangements of the Greeks, for -instance, no less than the ideas we get of foreign and barbarous folk -and countries, or of the realm of the shades, and much else, are so -closely interwoven with the personal wanderings of the home-returning -Odysseus and the fortunes of Telemachus on his journey after his -father, that not one of these aspects of the tale is held in a loose -and independent position apart from the main event, or, as with the -chorus of tragedy, which does not usually enter into the action -and merely deals with generalized reflections, is able to relapse -inactive into retrospection, but co-operates in the actual progress -of the event. In a similar manner Nature also and the world of gods -for the first time receives, not so much on their own account as in -their relation to the particular events, which it is the function of -the godlike to direct, an individual representation and one of rich -vitality. Only when such a condition is fulfilled, or, in other words, -when the narrative throughout informs us of the progressive movement -of the event, which the poet has selected as the unifying material of -his composition, can it never appear as a mere portrayal of independent -objects. On the other hand, the particular event for its part should -not be involved in and absorb the substantive national basis and -totality upon which it moves forward to such a degree, that these are -themselves divested of all independent existence, and fall by necessity -into a relation simply of service. In this respect the expedition of -Alexander against the East would not supply satisfactory subject-matter -for the true Epopee. An heroic exploit of this kind not merely in -respect to the original resolve, but also to its manner of execution, -depends so entirely on this _one_ single individual, his personality -and character is so exclusively that which supports it, that we lose -altogether the independent existence and self-assertion of the national -basis, the host and its leaders, which we have shown to be a necessary -condition. Alexander's army is his people, wholly bound up with him and -his command: it follows him rather in the relation of vassalage than -that of free will. In contrast to this the true vitality of the epic -consists in this, that both these fundamental aspects, the particular -action with its individual agents and the general world-condition, -while no doubt continuing under a mediated relation, yet in this -relation of reciprocity no less preserve their necessary independence -and thereby enforce themselves as one existing whole, at the same time -securing and possessing an independent entity. - -(_γγ_) In a previous passage we laid it down generally that in order -to have an individual action the substantive basis of epic poetry must -offer the opportunity of collisions, and furthermore observed, that the -general foundation must not appear as wholly independent but under the -form of a specific event; we may now add that it is in this individual -_événement_ that we must seek the point of _departure_ for the entire -epic poem. This is pre-eminently of importance for the situations -connected with its commencement. Here, too, we may take the Iliad and -Odyssey for models. In the first the Trojan war is placed before us -as the general background of contemporary life, but only so far as it -comprises the particular events connected with the wrath of Achilles. -And for this reason the poem commences without any possible confusion -with situations which excite the passion of the principal hero against -Agamemnon. In the Odyssey there are two classes of subject-matter which -determine the content of its opening, that is to say, the wanderings of -Odysseus and the domestic complications at Ithaca. Homer brings them -together by giving us briefly information concerning Odysseus on his -home-journey to the effect that he is detained by Calypso, and then at -once passes to the sorrows of Penelope and the voyage of Telemachus. We -are, consequently, able to review at one glance what obstacle stands -in way of the return, and what is consequently rendered necessary for -those left behind at home. - -(_β_) The advance, then, of the epic poem from a commencement such as -this is totally different from that of lyric or dramatic poetry. - -(_αα_) In the first place we should draw attention to the possibilities -of _extension_ within the range of the Epos. These are quite as much -due to the form as they are to the content. We have already seen what -a variety of objects may be comprised in the world of the Epic as -fully elaborated, not merely in its ideal capacities, motives, and -aim, but also in respect to its objective situation and environment. -Inasmuch as all these aspects assume an objective form, an appearance -of reality, each one of them takes to itself a form of essentially -independent ideality and externality, in which the epic poet, either -in his exposition or description, is permitted freely to linger, and -to disclose in its positive appearance. The lyric, on the contrary, -concentrates all that it lays hold of within the ideal realm of the -emotions, or refines it away in the generalized vision of reflection. -In the objective world it is the immediate complex in juxtaposition, or -the varied wealth of manifold characteristics, which is presented us. -In this respect we find that in no other type of poetry is the claim -to introduce episodical matter, even to the point of to all appearance -absolute independence, more indisputable than in the Epos. The delight, -however, in actual fact for its own sake and in its natural form must, -as already observed, not be carried so far as to import into the -poem circumstances and facts which have no real connection with the -important action. Such episodes must assert themselves as effective in -the advance of such action, whether as events which are obstructive to -its course, or assistant in their mediation. Yet, despite of this, the -particular portions of the epic poem will be somewhat loosely bound -together. This is a necessary result of the mode of its objectivity. -For in what is objective mediation persists as the ideal essence; what -in contrast to this confronts the external aspect is the independent -existence of particular aspects. This defect in the direction of a -stringent unity and the emphasized relation of specific portions of the -epic poem, which, according to its primitive form, possesses moreover -a primitive period of origination, has this result, that it lends -itself more readily than lyric or dramatic compositions to subsequent -additions and continuations; and, further, it is enabled to appropriate -under its more recent and embracing whole even examples of the saga -which have already received artistic expression of a definite, if not -so exalted character. - -(_ββ_)_Secondly_, if we look at the way in which epic poetry may be -justified in its _motivisation_ of the progress and course of events, -we shall find that it ought not either exclusively to take the ground -of what happens from the individual mood, nor yet from what is purely -personal character. In other words, it should not encroach upon -what is the proper sphere of the lyric and drama; it must, in this -respect too, adhere to the form of objectivity which constitutes the -fundamental epic type. We have, in fact, seen more than once previously -that external conditions were of no less importance, for an exposition -that takes the form of narrative, than states of soul which revealed -character. In the Epos character and the necessary rational condition -coalesce completely on terms of equality, and the epic character may -therefore give way to external conditions, without impairing his poetic -individuality, may be, in short, in his action, the result of relations -in such a way that these appear as the predominant factor rather than -the exclusively effective character as we find it in the drama. We -find in the Odyssey that the progress of events is almost entirely -motived in this way. We find the same thing in the adventures of -Ariosto and other Epopees, where the material of the song is borrowed -from the the Middle Ages. The divine command, too, which induces Æneas -to found Rome, no less than the varied episodes which extend its -embrace over a wide field, would involve a type of motivisation wholly -uncongenial to the drama. A further illustration of this is Tasso's -"Jerusalem Delivered," in which, quite apart from the brave antagonism -of the Saracens, many a natural event is opposed to the object of -the Christian host. Such examples might be indefinitely multiplied -from almost all the more famous Epopees. And, indeed, it is precisely -material of this kind, in which an exposition of this type is possible -and necessary, that the epic poet ought to select. - -The same thing is effected where it is bound to appear as the result -of the actual decision of individuals. Here, too, we have neither -to assert nor to express that which the character in the dramatic -sense of the term--that is, according to his aim and the individual -passion which uniquely animates him--makes of the circumstances and -relations, in order to maintain his personality against this external -resistance no less than against other individuals. Rather the epic -character excludes this action viewed simply in reference to its -personal character, just as it excludes the tumult of purely subjective -states and feelings. Instead of this it cleaves fast, on the one -hand, to the circumstances and their reality; and on the other that, -whereby its movement is effected, must necessarily render explicit all -that is essentially valid, universal, and ethical. In Homer, as in -no other writer, we shall find inexhaustible material for pertinent -thought on this head. The lament of Hecuba over Hector, for instance, -or of Achilles over the death of Patroclus--episodes which, so far -as content is concerned, would lend themselves admirably to lyric -treatment--are in Homer held throughout within the epic temper. And -to quite as little extent do we find this poet handle in dramatic -style situations which would primarily adapt themselves to dramatic -exposition, such as the conflict between Agamemnon and Achilles in the -council of the chiefs, or the parting of Hector and Andromache. Only to -glance at the last-mentioned scene, this belongs unquestionably to one -of the finest conceivable efforts of epic poetry. Even in Schiller's -dialogue between Amalia and Carl in "The Robbers," where the same -subject ought to be treated in the lyric vein throughout, we distinctly -hear an epic reverberation from the Iliad. How consummately epic in its -effect, however, is Homer's description in the sixth book of the Iliad -of the way in which Hector vainly seeks for Andromache at home, then -at last meets her on the way to the Scæan gate, how she hurries toward -him, and when close to him, as he looks with a peaceful smile on his -little boy lying on the arm of his nurse, exclaims: "Amazing man, thy -courage will destroy thee, and thou compassionest neither thy infant -boy nor me, hapless wight, who will soon be widowed of thee. Ay, for -soon the Achaeans will slay thee, storming against thee together. And -if I lose thee it were better for myself to pass beneath the earth. No -other comfort is left for me, but only sorrow, if thou art stricken by -fate! Neither have I my father any more, nor yet my lady mother." After -which she narrates at length all the story about her father and the -death of her seven brothers, all of whom Achilles had slain, also the -captivity, ransom, and decease of her mother. Then at length she turns -with earnest plea to Hector, who is henceforward to her father and -mother, brothers, and spouse in the bloom of life, and implores him to -remain on the walls, and not to make his son an orphan and his wife a -widow. Hector replies in much the same spirit: "All this is also a care -to me, wife; but I fear too much the Trojans, if I avoid the battle -here, like a coward; the eddy, too, of the moment worries me not, who -am wont to be ever dauntless, and to fight in the foremost ranks of the -Trojans, protecting the high fame of my father and mine own. Ay, well -indeed I wot, both in mind and soul, that the day will come in which -sacred Troy shall fall, as also Priam and the folk of the king cunning -with the spear. But I sorrow not so much for the Trojans, nor yet for -Hecuba herself and Priam, nor the brothers of my flesh, who shall fall -beneath the foe, as for thee, when some bronze-greaved Achæan shall -bear thee away, robbing thee of thy day of freedom, and thou shalt spin -from the flax of another in Argos, or wearily draw water, loth indeed, -but the might of necessity will be upon thee; and I doubt not there -will be someone who will say, as he sees thee weeping: 'See yonder -Hector's wife, the bravest of all who fought among the Trojans when the -fight was over Ilium.' Thus perchance shall someone speak; and woe will -come upon thee, that thou hast no longer such a husband, to fend thee -from such serfdom. As for myself, may the earth cover me, or ever I -hear thy bitter cry and thy carrying off." All that Hector says here is -full of feeling, pathetic enough, yet not merely expressed in a lyrical -or dramatic manner, but in the epic vein, inasmuch as the picture which -he outlines of suffering, and which brings pain to himself, in the -first place depicts circumstantially objective conditions as such, and -in the second place because all that affects and moves him does not -appear as personal volition, or individual resolve, but rather as a -necessity which is not at the same time his own aim and will. Of much -the same epic effect are the pleas with which the vanquished plead, as -they may on various grounds, for their life with their victors; for a -movement of the soul, which proceeds merely from circumstances, and -only attempts to affect us through the causative effect of objective -relations and situations, is not dramatic, although modern tragedians -from time to time also make use of such a type of effect. The scene, -for example, in Schiller's "Maid of Orleans," on the battle-field -between the English knight Montgomery and Joan,[23] is, as others have -already justly observed, rather epic than dramatic. In the moment of -danger all courage forsakes the knight; yet, for all that, when pressed -by the fierce Talbot, who punishes cowardice with death, and the Maid, -who conquers even the bravest, he is unable to have recourse to flight, -and exclaims: - - - O, wär ich nimmer über Meer hieher geschifft, - Ich unglücksel'ger! Eitler Wahn bethörte mich, - Wohlfeilen Ruhm zu suchen in dem Frankenkrieg, - Und jetzo führt mich das verderbliche Geschick - In diese blut'ge Mordschlacht. Wär ich weit von hier - Daheim noch an der Savern' bluhendem Gestad - Im sichern Vaterhause, we die Mutter mir. - In Gram zurückblieb und die zarte süsse Braut.[24] - - -Expressions such as these are unmanly, and make the figure of this -knight neither fit for the genuine Epos nor the tragic drama, are in -fact rather suggestive of comedy. And when Joan, after exclaiming, - - - Du bist des Todes! Eine britt'sche Mutter zeugte dich![25] - - -advances towards him, he throws away sword and shield and pleads at her -feet for his life. The reasons he gives at length in order to arouse -her sympathy: his defencelessness; the wealth of his father, who would -ransom him with gold; the gentleness of the sex to which Joan belongs -as maid; the love of his sweet bride, who waits for his return home in -tears; the grief of the parents whom he has left at home; the grievous -fate of death unwept for in a foreign land--all these motives are -themselves, in one aspect of them, essentially objective conditions, -effective and of value as such, and on the other hand, the tranquil -exposition of them is itself in the epic vein. In the same way the -poet motives the condition, that Joan must hearken to him, through the -external circumstance of the defencelessness of the pleader, although -from the dramatic point of view she ought without delay and at the bare -sight to have slain him, being as she was the relentless foe of all -Englishmen, and in fact expresses such destructive hatred with every -resource of rhetoric, justifying her action by the statement that she -is bound with most fearful vow to the spirit-world. - - - Mit dem Schwert zu tödten alles Lebende, das ihr - Der Schlachten Gott verhängnissvoll entgegenschickt.[26] - - -If the point of importance to the maid were merely that Montgomery -ought not to die defenceless, he possessed apparently an excellent -means in his grasp of retaining his life; in other words he had merely -to refuse to take up his weapons. This view is supported by the fact -that Joan has already listened to him so long. Yet when she demands -that he should fight for his life with her, of mortal flesh like -himself, he again takes up his sword and falls by her hand. Such a -_development_ of the scene had been more in keeping with the drama had -it dispensed with all this varied epic exposition. - -(_γγ_) In general, then, we may characterize the type in which we -have the poetic passage of epic events set before us in the following -way, namely, that the epic presentation does not merely linger over -the picture of objective reality and ideal conditions, but over and -above this provides _obstacles_ to a final solution. This not only -applies to its relation to the wide field of external condition, to -which the more immediate vision enforces us, but also in respect -to the culminating movement of the action, more especially in its -contrast to dramatic poetry. For this reason above all it diverts us -from the execution of the fundamental purpose, the connected course -of whose evolved conflict a dramatic poet ought never to lose sight -of, into much digressive matter; and, moreover, by this means avails -itself of the opportunity, to bring before our vision the complex -unity of a world of circumstances, which otherwise could not have -been expressed in speech. We have an illustration of such an obstacle -in the beginning of the Iliad. Homer here at once tells us about the -fatal sickness, which Apollo had spread throughout the Greek camp, -and connects with it the strife between Achilles and Agamemnon. This -wrath is the second impediment. Even more obviously in the Odyssey is -every adventure that Odysseus has to pass through, a delay to his home -return. More particularly, however, the distinct episode serves to -interrupt the unimpaired progression of the story, and is to a great -extent an obstacle to this. Such, for instance, is the shipwreck of -Æneas, his love for Dido, the appearance of Armida in Tasso, and we may -add as a rule the many independent love affairs of particular heroes -in the romantic Epos, which, in the poetry of Ariosto, accumulate and -interlace with such profusion, that the conflict between Christian and -Saracen is thereby entirely hidden. In the "Divine Comedy" of Dante -we do not find such definite examples of obstruction to the plot or -narrative. In this case we must associate the slow advance of the Epic -denouement partly with the generally pausing manner of the description, -and in part with the many little episodical histories and conversations -with particular characters, whether damned or otherwise, about whom the -poet permits himself more detailed information. - -In this connection it is above all things necessary that impediments -of this description, which interfere with the flow of narrative to its -final end, should not be presented as though they were merely means -directed to objects of an objective character. For inasmuch as already -the general condition, on the basis of which the movement of the epic -world is carried forward, is only truly poetical where it appears as a -self-constructed growth, so too its entire course, either in virtue of -circumstances or the inherent destiny, must also appear self-originated -without our being able to detect thereby the personal views of -the poet; and this is all the more so because, in the form of its -objectivity--not merely under its aspects of phenomenal reality, but -also in respect to the substantive character of its content--it claims -for the whole no less than its divisible content that it is a positive -growth, spontaneous in its origin and independent. If, however, a -directive world of gods is its apex, controlling the course of events, -it is even more necessary that the poet himself should possess a lively -and vivid faith in them, because in that case it is generally through -the instrumentality of these that obstructions such as we have referred -to are asserted; consequently where these divine forces are treated -merely as some lifeless mechanism, it is inevitable that everything -for which they are responsible must equally become so in a poetic -composition which is artificial even in intention. - -(_γ_) Having thus briefly adverted to the totality of objects, which -the Epos is able to unfold by interweaving a particular event with a -universal national world-condition, and, further, having discussed -the manner in which the course of events is developed, we have now, -_thirdly_, and in conclusion, to examine the problem as to the nature -of the _unity_ and _rounding off_ of an epic composition. - -(_αα_) This is a point all the more important for the reason that in -our own day people are ready to take up the view that we may end an -Epic as we like, or continue it just as capriciously. Although this is -the opinion of men of talent and learning--it is in fact the contention -of F. N. Wolff--it remains none the less a crude and illiterate view. -It in fact amounts to nothing less than excluding from the finest -ethic compositions any genuine character of artistic composition. For -it is only in virtue of the fact that an Epos depicts an essentially -exclusive, and thereby, for the firs time independent world, that it -is at all a work of fine art in contrast to what is, in part, the -diffuse, and, in part, the finite, series of independent sections, -causes, effects, and other modes of self-causative reality. One can, -of course, so far admit that for the genuine and primitive Epos the -wholly aesthetic review of the design and organization of the parts, -of the position and completion of the episodes, of the kind of similes -employed, and so forth, this is not the point of most importance, -inasmuch as here, more than in lyrical poetry of a later date, and -its artificial elaboration of the drama, the general world-outlook, -the faith in divine beings, and, in a word, what is most essential in -such national Bibles, must be expressed as the aspect of most weight. -Nevertheless, these great national books, such as are the Ramajana, the -Iliad, and the Odyssey, and even the "Song of the Nibelings," ought not -to lose that quality which alone, in respect to both their beauty and -their art, can endow them with the worth and freedom of artistic works, -the quality, that is, whereby they bring before our vision a complete -sphere of action. What we have simply to do, therefore, is to discover -the appropriate form of this exclusive unity. - -(_ββ_) The term Unity, if employed in this general sense, has become -a very commonplace one even for tragedy, one capable of much misuse. -For every event, in its causes and effects, creates an infinite chain, -which, in the direction of the past no less than the future, and in -a way that is in both directions incalculable, leads to a further -series of particular circumstances and actions, it being impossible -to determine all that may form part of the circumstances and detail -in other respects, or the mode of their coalescence. If we merely -confine our attention to this series, no doubt an Epos may be extended -backwards and forwards indefinitely; and, over and above this such -always offers opportunity for digression. But it is just such a series -as this which makes the composition prosaic. To adduce an example the -Greek cyclic poets have celebrated the entire cyclus of the Trojan -war, and in doing so continue at the point where Homer stops, with a -beginning, too, from the egg of Leda. But it is precisely on account -of this that they degenerate into prose, if we contrast them with -Homer's compositions. Just as little--I have already drawn attention -to this--can an individual as such surrender the central focus of his -unity, inasmuch as it is from this that the most varied events issue, -and are able to effect a union in the same, though they may be entirely -without connection regarded simply as events. We have consequently -to seek for another type of unity. In this respect we must briefly -determine the distinction between a mere _event_, and a _definite -action_, which accepts the form of event in the epic narrative. We -may define a mere event as the external aspect and realization of -every human action, without involving with it the execution of a -particular end; or, in general terms, we may call it every external -modification in the form and appearance of what actually exists. When -anyone is struck by lightning, that is a mere event, an external -occurrence. More is implied in the sack of a hostile city; we have here -the fulfilment of a predeterminate purpose. An essentially distinct -object of this kind, such as the liberation of the Holy Land from the -yoke of the Saracens and heathen, or better still the satisfaction of -a specific impulse, such as the wrath of Achilles, must, under the -mode of the epic eventuality, constitute the synthetic unity of the -Epopaea; and by this I mean that the poetic narrative must restrict -itself to that which is uniquely the effect of this conceived purpose -or specific impulse, and in this co-operation be rounded off in an -essentially exclusive unity. Action and execution of this type is, -however, only possible to human agency; so that, as the culminating -point of our composition, we must have in progressive conjunction -with purpose and impulse a _human personality._ Furthermore, if the -action and satisfaction of the entire heroic character, from which both -purpose and impulse proceed, are merely the result of wholly definite -situations and motives, which are dissipated as we look back in an -extensive complexity of relation, and if, further, the execution of the -purpose, as we look forward, carries with it a variety of result, then -in that case on the one hand no doubt a large number of presuppositions -will be involved with such a specific action, and on the other hand we -shall have many effects of reaction, which, however, will not be placed -in any more intimate poetic connection with just this determinate -character of the end under exposition. In this sense, for instance, -the wrath of Achilles has as little connection with the rape of Helen -or the judgment of Paris, although the one fact is presupposed in the -other, as it has with the actual sack of Troy. When, therefore, it is -contended that the Iliad neither possesses a necessary beginning, nor -an appropriate conclusion, such a verdict is due to an inability to see -distinctly that it is the wrath of Achilles which is the main subject -of the Iliad, and which consequently should supply the focus-point of -unity. If, on the contrary, we form a stable conception of the heroic -figure of Achilles, and assume that this, as asserted in the wrath -aroused in him by Agamemnon, is the connecting thread of the whole, -we shall be unable to conceive either a beginning or termination of -greater beauty. It is, as I have already pointed out, the direct motive -of this anger, which forms the poem's commencement; the consequences -of the same are comprised in all that follows. Against this critics -have attempted to enforce the view that in such a case the last cantos -are irrelevant, and might just as well be omitted. Such an opinion, if -we look at the poem itself, is untenable. For just as the dallying of -Achilles himself by the ships and his abstinence from the conflict are -purely the result of his indignant wrath, and are in this inactivity -bound up closely with the almost immediate success of the Trojans over -the Grecian host, no less than with the fight and death of Patroclus, -so, too, the lament and revenge of the noble Achilles and his victory -over Hector is closely linked with this fall of his brave friend. If in -the previous opinion it is implied that death is the end of everything, -and after that we may as well pack and be off, such a view merely -indicates extreme crudity of imaginative conception. With the idea of -death it is merely _Nature_ that is brought to a standstill; man is not -so, nor yet are the obligations of his _ethical life_ and _habit_,[27] -with their claim of honourable recognition for the fallen hero. In this -sense the sports that form part of the funeral rites of Patroclus, -the heartrending pleas of Priam, the reconciliation of Achilles, who -returns the father the corpse of his son, in order that in this case, -too, honour to the dead may not be absent, each and all are connected -with the previous events, and contribute to the supreme and satisfying -beauty of the narrative's conclusion. - -(_γγ_) Inasmuch, however, as we have attempted above to make a -specifically individual action, which issues in accordance with a -deliberate purpose or heroic impulses, conform to the type of an epic -whole in which focal points are ascertainable that bind it together -and round off its completeness, the view is at least possible that -we have made the _unity_ of the Epos too nearly identical with that -of the _drama._ For in the drama also it is _one_ particular line of -action issuing from self-conceived purpose and character with its -conflict which constitutes the focal centre. In order, therefore, -not to involve these two types of poetry, the epos, that is, and the -drama, in confusion, though the confusion merely appear to be such, I -will yet again draw the reader's attention emphatically to my previous -explanation of the distinction between human action and event. And -quite apart from this the epic interest is not simply confined to -those characters, objects, and situations which have their ground -in the particular action as such, whose progress is the subject of -the epic narrative, but this action possesses the further stimulus -to its opposed factors and their resolution, and in fact is directed -throughout its course and exclusively within a _national_ and -_collective whole_, or substantive content, which claims on its own -account to assert a variety of characters, conditions, and events. In -this respect the final consummation of the Epos does not merely consist -in the particular content of the predominant action selected, but quite -as much in the entire synthesis of the _general world-survey_ whose -objective reality it undertakes to depict; in fact, the epic unity is -only then fully complete when the particular action, from one point of -view no doubt, in its independent character, but also from another, -regarded in its progression as the essentially rounded world within -the sphere of which it moves, is placed before us as one indissoluble -totality; and both of these spheres, or aspects of one sphere, repose -together in the mediating fulness and unimpaired unity of very life. - -Such, then, are the most essential characteristics we find it possible, -within the limits accepted, to draw attention to in respect to the -genuine Epos. - -It is, however, possible to apply the same form of objectivity to -other subject-matter, whose content does not carry with it the true -significance of genuine objectivity. It is very possible that a -theorist in Art will feel embarrassment when, with such modes of speech -before him, he is asked to make a classification adapted to all poems -without distinction; and we must not forget that under the generic term -of poem these hybrid forms have also to be reckoned. In any really -just classification, however, we ought only to include that which only -conforms with a definition of the generic notion.[28] All that is, on -the contrary, incomplete in content or form, or both, precisely for the -reason that it is not as it ought to be, is only subsumed defectively -under the notion, or in other words under the definition, which gives -us the thing as it ought to be, and in truth actually is. I only -propose, therefore, in conclusion and by way of supplement, to add a -few observations upon such subordinate and collateral branches of the -true epic composition. - -To this class of poetry above all the _idyll_ belongs in the modern -sense of that term, viz., that in which poetry stands aloof from the -profounder interests of spiritual and ethical life, and depicts mankind -in its innocence. Innocent life in this sense amounts to little more -than an ignorance of everything except eating and drinking. We may -add that what we eat and drink here is extremely simple, it is goat's -milk merely, or sheep's milk, or at the most cow's milk, roots, acorns, -vegetables, and cheese made from milk. I should say that bread is no -longer in the truly idyllic sphere; we must, however, allow to it -flesh-eating; for it is hardly possible that our idyllic shepherds and -shepherdesses could have wished to sacrifice their herds exclusively -to the gods. Their occupation will consist in looking the whole day -long after their beloved herds with their faithful hound, in providing -their food and drink, and along with this giving vent, with as much -sentimental feeling as possible, to every kind of mood which does not -disturb this condition of repose and contentment. In a word, they are -satisfied with their peculiar piety and gentleness, piping away on -their reed or oat-pipes, warbling to each other, and above all making -love with the greatest tenderness and innocence. - -The Greeks, on the contrary, possessed in their plastic representations -a more jubilant world, with its attendants of Bacchus, Satyrs and -Fauns, who, in their harmless service of a god, stimulated animal -life and human joviality with a vivacity and truth totally different -from the above pretentious innocence, piety, and emptiness. We may -also recognize the same essentially animated outlook on the world as -illustrated in lively pictures of national condition, in the Greek -Bucolic poets such as Theocritus; this is so whether our poet lingers -over actual situations of the life of fisher-folk, or shepherds, -or extends the mode in which he expresses this, or similar spheres -of life, to a yet wider circle, either depicting such states in an -epic form, or treating them in lyric form and that of the objective -drama. Virgil already sings to us with less warmth in his Eclogues. -Most tedious of all, however, is Gessner, so tedious that I suppose -no one reads him nowadays. We can only wonder that the French ever -had so much taste for him that they even ranked him highest among -German poets. Their morbid sensibility on the one hand, which evades -the tumult and changes of life, while yearning also for some kind of -movement, and on the other the absence of all true interest in such -poetry, so that the otherwise disturbing influences of our culture were -not represented--both of these factors, no doubt, contributed to this -preference. - -We may reckon as a further class of this hybrid type of Epic those -poems which are half description and half lyrics, a favourite type -with the English, and one which for the most part accepts for its -subject-matter Nature, the Seasons, and similar subjects. We may also -associate with this type the various _didactic_ poems concerned with -physical science, astronomy, medicine, chess, fishing, and hunting--in -short, the art which loves to elaborate in a poetic form what is really -the content of prose, an art which has been cultivated with much talent -in later Greek poetry, and after that by the Romans, and, in our time, -pre-eminently by the French. Such poetry, despite its general epic -temper, will very readily pass over into the lyric treatment. - -The _romances_ and _ballads_, which we find both in the Middle Ages and -modern times, are no doubt poetry of a kind, though it is impossible to -define accurately their type; so far as their content is concerned they -are in part epic. If we look at the form of their composition, however, -they are for the most part lyrical, so that we have perforce to reckon -them from different points of view to different types. - -The _romantic_ novel, that Epopaea of _modern society_, opens a -different field altogether. In this we possess, on the one hand, in -all its completeness and variety, an epic prodigality of interests, -conditions, characters, and living relations, the extensive background -in fact of an entire world. We have also the epic exposition of events. -What fails us here is the _primitive_ world-condition as poetically -conceived, which is the source of the genuine Epos. The romance or -novel in the modern sense pre-supposes a basis of reality already -organized in its _prosaic form_, upon which it then attempts, in its -own sphere, so far as this is possible from such a general point of -view, both in its treatment of the vital character of events and the -life of individuals and their destiny, to make good once more the -banished claims of poetical vision. For this reason one of the most -common collisions in the novel, and one most suitable to it, is the -conflict between the poetry of the heart and the prose of external -conditions antagonistic to it, including with such the contingency -such imply. This is a conflict which may be resolved on the lines of -tragedy or comedy, or finds its settlement in the twofold conclusion, -first, that the characters which in the first instance contend with -the ordinary course of life are taught to recognize in it what is -the genuine heart of things, becoming thereby reconciled to their -conditions and ready to cooperate with them; and, secondly, that they -learn how to brush away the purely prosaic aspect of all that they do -and accomplish, and thereby replace the prose which they have found -there with a reality allied and congenial to beauty and art. In so -far as the form of the exposition is concerned, the genuine romance -pre-supposes, precisely as the Epos does, the synthesized purvey of -the world and life as one whole, the manifold contents of which are -manifested within the reach of the individual event which supplies -the focal centre of the entire complexus. In his attitude to detail, -however, the poet must here permit himself a freer play both of -conception and execution, and all the more so because he is here less -able to avoid the prose of actual life in his descriptions, though this -freedom should not make him any more inclined to dwell exclusively in -such an atmosphere of prose and ordinary occurrence. - - - - -3. THE HISTORICAL DEVELOPMENT OF EPIC POETRY - - -In looking back upon the course of our previous consideration of -the other arts, we find that we reviewed the different stages of -the art of _building_ throughout in their historical development as -successively in symbolic, classic, and romantic architecture. In the -case of sculpture, on the contrary, we accepted the Greek type, by -virtue of its complete identity with the notion of this _classic_ -art, as the real focal centre, from which we proceeded to develop -the specific characteristics of importance, so that here we did not -find it necessary to extend so far as in the previous case the range -of our historical survey. This contrast is further illustrated in -our treatment of the _romantic_ art-character of painting, which, -however,[29] not merely in respect to the fundamental notion of its -content, but also in that of the mode of its presentation, embraces -an equally wide and important range of development in different -nations and through different schools, so that in this case it was -necessary to make our reference to history more extensive and varied. -The nature of the art of music invited us to historical comparisons of -the same kind. Inasmuch, however, as I have neither obtained access -to the foreign literature dealing with the history of this art, nor -can claim personally to possess the adequate knowledge, I have been -forced to restrict myself to the mere outlines of what is required -incidentally. With regard to our immediate subject, that is, _epic_ -poetry, the course of our enquiry will be very much that followed in -the case of sculpture. In other words, though the mode of exposition -branches off in several direct or collateral divisions, and embraces -many historical periods and peoples, yet we have already recognized in -the Epos of Greek literature the genuine type of it in its consummate -form and most artistic mode of realization. And the reason of this -is that in general the Epos possesses the closest affinity with the -plastic of sculpture and its objective presence; and, not merely in -respect to its substantive content, but equally so in the form of its -presentation as that of phenomenal reality. It is therefore by no means -simply an accident that we find epic poetry, no less than the art of -sculpture, assert itself pre-eminently among the Greeks in its original -and unsurpassed perfection. Stages of development, no doubt, are to be -met with on either side of this culminating point, stages which are -neither intrinsically subordinate or insignificant, but are necessary -conditions of the art's growth, inasmuch as all nations are essentially -within the sphere of poetic creation, and it is above all the Epos -which brings before us the heart and core of the national life. And -for this reason, the historical development of the Epic is of greater -importance than was the case with sculpture. - -We may then classify the entire compass of epic poetry, or, to express -ourselves more accurately, of the Epopaea, in three fundamental stages; -and these, speaking generally, constitute the course of the art's -evolution. - -_Firsts_ we have the Oriental Epos, which makes the symbolic type its -focal centre. - -_Secondly_, there is the classical Epos of the Greeks, with its -imitation in Roman authors. - -_Finally,_ we have the abundant and many-sided unfolding of -epic-romantic poetry among Christian peoples; which, however, in -the first instance appears in Teutonic paganism; and again, from -another point of view, that is quite apart from what we may style the -chivalrous poetry of the Middle Ages, we find the old classic world -active in another province of life as instrumental to the purification -of literary taste or style, or still more directly utilized as a model, -until finally the modern romance replaces the Epos altogether. - -We may now proceed to some review of single epic compositions: in this -it will only be possible to emphasize what is of most importance; and, -generally speaking, I can only pretend to give a rapid outline of this -field in the space at my disposal. - -(_a_) In the case of Oriental peoples the art of poetry is, as we have -already observed, generally of a more primitive type, inasmuch as it -remains more closely related to what we may style the essential[30] -mode of envisagement, and the diffusion of the individual consciousness -in the sublime Unity of the _One._ And because of this, as a further -aspect, and relatively to the specific divisions of poetic composition, -it is unable to work out individual personality in the self-subsistency -of determinate characterization, with its aims and collisions, an -elaboration which is of first importance in the composition of genuine -dramatic poetry. The most essential result therefore we meet with here -is limited--if we exclude from attention an endearing, sweet-scented, -and delicate type of lyric, or one that uplifts itself to the one -unutterable God--to poems, which are to be counted of the epic mould. -Nevertheless it is only among the Hindoos and the Persians that we come -across the genuine Epopaea; but here at least we do meet it in colossal -proportions. - -(_α_) The Chinese, on the contrary, possess no national Epos. The -prosaic basis of their imaginative vision, which even to the earliest -origins of history offers the jejune form of a prosaically organized -historical reality, opposes from the first to this the most noble -type of epic composition an insuperable obstruction. The religious -conceptions of this people, little adapted as they are to artistic -configuration, contribute to the same result. We find, however, at a -later date and as some compensation, for their elaboration is most -profuse, little narratives, and romances spun out to great length, -which astound us by the vividness in which situations are realized, -the accuracy with which private and public relations are depicted, -the variety, fine breeding, or rather I should say frequently the -fascinating tenderness they display, more particularly in their female -characters, and in short by the art in every respect which succeeds in -making works so consummate. - -(_β_) A world of great contrast to the above presents itself in the -Hindoo Epopaea. We find already in the most primitive compositions, -if we may form an opinion from the little made known to the general -public up to the present time from the Veda, most fruitful germs for -a mythology fitted to epic exposition; and these, associated with the -heroic exploits of men many centuries before Christ--for chronological -accuracy is still impossible--are elaborated into genuine Epopaea, -works, however, which are still composed in part from the wholly -religious point of view, and in part from that of unfettered poetry and -art. Pre-eminently do the two most famous of these poems, namely the -Ramajana and the Maha-Bharata, place before us the entire world-outlook -of the Hindoo race in all its splendour and glory, its confusion, -fantastical absurdity and dissolution, and withal, from the reverse -point of view, in the exuberant loveliness and the here and there fine -traits of heart and emotion, which characterize the profuse vegetation -of its spiritual growth. Mythical exploits of men are expanded into the -actions of incarnate gods, whose deed hovers vaguely between the divine -and human nature, and the determinate outlines of personality and -exploit are dissolved in an infinitude of extension. The substantive -bases of the whole are of a type such as our Western world-outlook, -assuming that it does not choose to surrender the higher claims of -freedom and morality, is neither able to find itself truly at home -in or to sympathize with. The unity of the particular parts is of an -extremely unstable kind; and layers upon layers of episodical matter, -consisting of tales of the gods, narratives of ascetic penances, and -the powers they create, tediously long expositions of philosophical -doctrines and systems, so entirely impair the collective unity that we -are forced to regard many of them as later accretions. But, however -this may be, the spirit from which these stupendous poems have -originated bears constant witness to an imagination, which is not only -anterior to all prosaic culture, but as a rule is wholly incompatible -with the faculty of ordinary common sense, and is capable in fact of -endowing the fundamental tendencies of this national consciousness, in -its essentially unique and collective conception of the universe, with -an original artistic form. The later Epics, on the contrary, which are -called _Puranas_, in the more restricted sense of the term, that is, -poems of the Past, appear rather to be compiled in the prosaic and dull -style similar to that adopted by post-Homeric cyclic poets, and pursue -their downward course at great length from the creation of the gods and -the universe to the genealogies of human heroes and princes. Finally -the epic care of the old myths dissolves into vapour and artificial -elegance of a purely external poetic form and diction, while on the -one hand the phantasy, which exhausted itself in a dreamy wonderland, -becomes the wisdom of fables whose most important function is to -instruct us in morality and worldly wisdom. - -(_γ_) We may compare side by side in a _third_ division of epic -Oriental poetry that respectively belonging to Hebrews, Arabs, and -Persians. - -(_αα_) The sublimity of the Jewish imagination no doubt in its -conception of the Creation, in the histories of the Patriarchs, the -wandering in the wilderness, _the_ conquest of Canaan, and in the -further historical course of national event, full as such a vision -is of sterling content and natural truth, possesses many elements -of primitive epic poetry; the religious interest is here, however, -so predominant, that, instead of being genuine Epopaea, they merely -approximate either to religious myths in the guise of poetry, or to -religious narratives which are wholly didactic. - -(_ββ_) The Arabs have always possessed a poetic nature, and from very -early days we find genuine poets among them. Even their heroic songs -of lyric narrative, styled the moallakat, which in part originate in -the century immediately previous to Mahomet, depict either with a few -bold and detached strokes and vehement ostentation, or at other times -with more tranquil self-possession, or a melting softness, the original -conditions of the still pagan Arabs. Here we find the honour of the -clan, the passion of revenge, the rights of hospitality, love, delight -in adventure, benevolence, sorrow, and yearning, in undiminished -strength, and in traits which remind us of the romantic character of -Spanish chivalry. Here, too, we meet with in the East for the first -time a real poetry, without fantastic elements, or prose, without -mythology, without gods, demons, fairies, genii, and everything else of -the kind common to the East, but rather with solid and self-sufficient -characters and, however unique and marvellous in the play of its images -and similes, yet for all that humanly real and self-contained. We have -the vision of a similar pagan world also set before us by a later age -in the collected poems of Hamasa, as also in the not yet edited "Divans -of the Hudsilites." After the extensive and successful conquests of the -Mohammedan Arabs this primitive heroic character gradually disappears; -and, in the course of the centuries, the province of Epic poetry is -replaced in part by the instructive fable and the witty proverb, in -part by the fairy-like narratives, of which the "Thousand and One -Nights" is an example, or in those tales of adventures which Rückert, -through a translation which reproduces for us the equally witty and -artistically elaborate Macamen of the Hariri in their metre, rhymes, -and articulate meaning, has unveiled in a manner deserving thoughtful -attention. - -(_γγ_) In some contrast to this the efflorescence of Persian -poetry falls in the period of that reconstructed culture effected -by the change of language and nationality under the influence of -Mohammedanism. We, however, come across, in the very first opening of -this lonely springtime, an epic poem which, at least in its material, -takes us back to the remotest Past of ancient Persian saga and myth, -and carries forward its narrative through the heroic age right down -to the last days of the Sussanides. This comprehensive work is the -Shahnameh of Firdusi, the son of the gardener of Tus, a work the -origins of which are traceable to the Bastanameh.[31] We are, however, -unable to call even this poem a genuine Epopaea, because it does not -make any specific and individual line of action its focal centre. On -account of the lapse of centuries we lose our hold of the costume -appropriate to an age or a locality, and in particular the most ancient -mythical figures and gloomy intricate traditions hover in a world of -the phantasy, among the indefinite outlines of which we are often at a -loss to know whether we are face to face with persons or entire clans; -and then again we are often suddenly confronted with really historical -characters. As a Mohammedan the poet was no doubt able to handle his -subject-matter more freely; but it is just in this type of freedom -that we fail to meet with the stability in definite characterization, -as it was present in the design of the primitive heroic songs; and, on -account of the great gulf which separates him from that long-buried -world of saga, the freshness and breath of its immediate life vanish, -though absolutely necessary to the national Epos. - -In its further course the epic art of the Persians expands into -Love-epopees of excessive softness and sweetness, as an author of which -Risami is pre-eminently distinguished. It further makes use of its -rich stores of life-experience in the interest of the teacher. In this -sphere the far-travelled Saadi was master. Finally, it plunges into -that pantheistic Mysticism, which Dschelaleddin Rumi recommends and -teaches in tales and legendary narrative. - -I must, I fear, restrict myself to the above sketch. - -(_b_) In the poetry of _Greece_ and _Rome_ we find ourselves for the -first time in the genuine sphere of epic art. - -(_α_) Among these above all are included of course the _Homeric_ poems, -which we have already noted as the culminating point of all. - -(_αα_) Either of these poems, despite all that may be advanced to the -contrary, is essentially self-complete, so definite and sensitive to -its construction as a whole, that in my own opinion the very view -which regards the present form of both as merely that in which they -were sung and handed down to posterity by rhapsodists, simply amounts -to little more than the just eulogy of such works in virtue of the -fact that they are, with regard to the entire atmosphere of their -content, national and realistic, and even in their particular parts -are so consummately finished, that all and each of them may be taken -as a whole in itself. Whereas in the East what is substantive[32] and -universal in the poet's survey still impairs the individuality of -character, and its aims and exploits by its symbolism or deliberate -instruction, and thereby injures the definite articulation and unity of -the whole. Here for the first time in these poems[33]we find a world -beautifully suspended as it were between the general life-conditions of -morality in family, state and religious belief, and the individuality -of distinctive character, and in this fair balance between the claims -of spirit and Nature, intentional action and objective event, between a -national basis of enterprise and particular aims and deeds, even though -individual heroes appear as the predominant feature in their free and -animated movement, yet this too is so mediated by the distinctiveness -of the aims proposed and the severe presence of destiny, that the -entire exposition can only remain even for ourselves the _ne plus -ultra_ of all attainment that we can either enjoy or admire in epic -composition. For we find no difficulty here in recognizing the real -significance of even the gods who withstand or assist these primitive -masculine heroes in their bravery, their straightforward and noble -actions: nor can we fail to return the merry smiles of an art which -depicts them as we see them here in all the _naïveté_ of their very -human, if also godlike impersonations. - -(_ββ_) The _cyclic_ poets of an age subsequent to the Homeric poems -depart more and more from this genuine type of epic poetry. On the one -hand the tendency here is to break up the completeness of the national -world-survey into its petty provinces and aspects; and from another -point of view, instead of retaining a firm grasp of the poetic unity -and distinctive character of an individual action, to insist more -exclusively on the completeness of events as an historical series, -or on the unity of the personality, and by so doing to assimilate -epic poetry with the already emphasized historical impulse of the -logographers in their historical compilations. - -(_γγ_) Finally Epic poetry of a still later date after the time of -Alexander either turns aside to the more limited province of bucolic -poetry, or introduces more learning and artifice than is compatible -with the truly poetic Epopaea being at last wholly didactic, a type -which increasingly suffers to escape every vestige of the primitive -freshness, simplicity and animation. - -(_β_) This characteristic, with which the Epos of the Greeks -terminates, is from the first predominant among the _Romans._ An epic -Bible, such as are the Homeric poems, we shall therefore seek for here -in vain, however much critics have attempted, even quite recently, to -resolve the most ancient Roman history into national Epopaea. On the -other hand, even from the earliest times, along with genuine epic art, -of which our finest extant example here is the Æneid, the historical -Epos and the didactic poem supplies us with a proof that it is the -Romans who are mainly responsible for the elaboration of that province -of poetry which is already half prose; just as also it was in their -hands that the _satire_ received its most perfect form, being also that -most congenial to their character. - -(_c_) For this reason epic poetry could only be infused with a fresh -breath and spirit through a change in its outlook on the world and in -its religious belief, and through the actions and destinies of new -nationalities. This is what we have in the case of the _Germans_, -not only as we see them in their primitive paganism, but also after -their conversion to Christianity. It may be further illustrated by -the Romance nations and all the more strongly, in proportion as their -subdivision into groups is more complete, and the principle of the -Christian view of life and reality is unfolded in all its various -phases. Yet it is precisely this many-sided expansion and subdivision -which oppose to a brief survey great difficulties. I will consequently -only draw attention to and emphasize fundamental tendencies. - -(_α_) In our _first_ group we may reckon the residue of genuine poetry, -which later nationalities have still retained from an age previous -to Christianity, for the most part by means of oral tradition, and -consequently not wholly unimpaired. - -We may include above all among these the poems which are usually -ascribed to _Ossian._ Although English critics of repute, such as -Johnson and Shaw, have been blind enough to publish them as the sole -composition of Macpherson, it is none the less wholly impossible that -a poet of our own time could create from his own resources alone such -ancient social conditions and events; consequently we must presuppose -here previous poems as the foundation of such a work, although too -in their entire atmosphere, and the mode of conception and feeling -expressed in them, many changes more in accord with our modern life may -have been introduced in the course of so many centuries. It is true -their actual date is not established; they may, however, very well have -retained a vital form in the mouth of the folk for one thousand or even -fifteen hundred years. Taking them as a whole their form appears to -be predominantly lyric. Ossian is here presented as the old minstrel -and hero, who has lost his sight, and suffers in a retrospect of -lament, the days of glory to rise before him. Yet although his songs -originate in woe and mourning they nevertheless are in themselves -fundamentally epic; for even these lamentations refer to what has been, -and depict this world which has now just vanished, with its heroes, its -love-adventurers, its exploits, its expeditions aver sea and land, its -chance of arms, its destiny and its downfall, in just the same epic and -realistic way--although broken here and there with lyrics--as we find -in Homer the heroes Achilles, Odysseus, or Diomede, talking of their -exploits, expeditions, and mischances. Yet the development of spiritual -emotion, and indeed of the entire national existence, despite the fact -that here heart and sentiment have a more exacting rôle to play, is -not carried so far as in Homer's case. Most of all we miss the assured -plastic form of his characterization and the daylight clarity of his -presentment. We are, in short, so far as _locale_ is concerned, exiled -in the tempestuous mists of the North, with its gloomy sky and heavy -clouds, upon which the spirits ride or appear to heroes, raimented in -their form. We may add that it is only quite recently that other Gaelic -minstrels of olden time have been discovered, rather connected, so -Wallis informs us, with England than Scotland or Ireland, minstrelsy -having been for a long time continuous in that country, which already -must have possessed a considerable literature. - -In these poems we have among other things reference to emigrations to -America. Mention is also made of Caesar; but the reason here given for -his invasion is a private passion for some king's daughter, whom he saw -in Gaul and followed to England. As a striking characteristic of their -form triads are worthy of attention, which combine in three organic -parts three events of similar character, though dating from different -periods of time. - -Finally, and more famous than these poems, are on the one hand the -heroic songs of the more ancient Edda, and on the other the myths with -which for the first time in this cycle of song along with the narrative -of human destinies we also come across various histories concerning the -origin, exploits, and downfall of the gods. I must, however, confess -I have been unable to acquire a taste for the empty exuberance of -these origins of a natural philosophy of symbolism, which, however, -are further attached to the appearance of particular human form and -physiognomy, such as Thor with his hammer, the Werewolf, the wild -mead-carousals, and in a word, the savagery and troubled confusion of -such a mythology. We must admit, of course, that all that intimately -concerns this folk of the North lies nearer to ourselves than, say, -the poetry of the Persians and Mohammedanism; but to press upon the -educated man among us such an admission to the point that it has still -at this time of day a claim upon his sympathy, and indeed ought to -pass for us as something national--such an assumption, though often -ventured, means not merely to overrate conceptions, which are to a -great extent misshapen and barbarous, but also to wholly misunderstand -the significance and spirit of our own times. - -(_β_) If we, _secondly_, cast a glance over the poetry of the -Christian Middle Ages, what we ought in the first instance and above -all to consider are those works which have, without more direct and -penetrating influence of the old literature and culture, sprung up from -the fresh spirit of the Middle Ages and consolidated Catholicism. Here -we find the most multifold elements ready to supply the material and -stimulus of epic poetry. - -(_αα_) We may in the _first_ place draw retention to that truly epic -subject-matter which comprises in its content interests, exploits, and -characters of the period mentioned of a wholly _national_ character. -Among these the Cid is pre-eminently worthy of our notice. The -significance of this blossom of national heroism in the Middle Ages to -the Spanish, this is set before us in epic guise in the poem Cid, and -then at a later date with more attractive excellence in a succession -of narrative romances, which Herder first brought to the notice of -Germany. We have here a string of pearls, every single picture entirely -complete in itself, and yet all so admirably in tune with each other -that they make a consistent whole; though throughout composed in -the spirit of chivalry, yet at the same time Spanish and national; -eminently rich in the content of their varied interests, whether these -concern love, marriage, honour, or the mastery of kings in wars waged -between Christians and Moors. All this material is voiced in so epic -and plastic a style, we have set before us the pertinent fact so simply -in the purity of its exalted content, and withal with such a wealth of -the noblest pictures of human life displayed in a panorama of the most -glorious exploit, and all this bound together in a wreath so fair and -fascinating, that we moderns may compare it with the most beautiful -creations of the ancient world.[34] - -As a matter of fact it is as impossible to compare the Nibelungenlied, -as it is the Iliad and Odyssey, with this world of romance, which, -however dissevered in fragments it maybe, is none the less epic in -its fundamental type. For although in the former precious and truly -German work we have no lack of a national and substantive content, in -respect to family, matrimonial affection, duty of vassalage, loyalty -of service, heroism, and, in a word, genuine marrow and substance, -yet the entire collision, despite all its epic breadth of vision, is -rather one of a dramatic type, than truly epic, and the exposition, -with all its detail, neither tends towards the individualization of -its abundance, nor to a presentment that is wholly lifelike; and from -a further point of view it is frequently squandered in pure harshness, -savagery and ferocity, so that the characters, although we find them -compactly braced and robust in action, yet in their abstract ruggedness -rather resemble coarse images of wood, than are comparable to the -humanely evolved, genial individuality of the Homeric heroes and women. - -(_ββ_) A second fundamental source of such literature is to be traced -in the religious poems of the Middle Ages, which take as their subject -the life of Christ, or those of the Madonna, the Apostles, the saints -and martyrs and the Last Judgment. The most essentially complete -and rich composition, however, the genuine art-Epic of Catholic -Christianity in the Middle Ages, the greatest subject-matter and the -greatest poem is in this sphere Dante's Divine Comedy. It is true that -we cannot call even this severely, rather I should systematically -organized poem, an Epopaea in the ordinary sense of the term. For -we have not here one progressive action, individual and exclusive, -on the broad basis of the entire poem: what, however, we do get in -a conspicuous degree in this Epos is the most secure articulation -and consummate finish. Instead of a particular event it has for its -subject-matter the eternal event, the absolute end, the Divine Love -in its imperishable eventuality, and in its unalterable circles' -of relation to the object. Possessing further Hell, Purgatory, and -Paradise for its locality, it plunges the living world of human action -and suffering or, more closely, that of individual acts and destinies -in this changeless existence. Everything single and particular in human -interests and aims here vanishes before the absolute greatness of the -purpose and end of all things; at the same time, however, what is -otherwise most perishable and evanescent in the living world receives -here a completely epic form objectively based on its own innermost -life, and adjudged in its worth and unworth by the supreme notion of -all, that is God. For as individuals were in their life and suffering, -their opinions and accomplishment on Earth, so are they here set before -us for ever consolidated, as it were, into images of bronze. It is in -this way that the poem embraces the totality of the most objective -life, that is, the eternal condition of Hell, of Purification, and -of Paradise; and it is on these indestructible foundations that the -characters of the actual world move in their particular personalities, -or rather they _have_ already moved, and are henceforward rendered -moveless, together with their action and being, in the everlasting -righteousness, and are themselves eternal. The Homeric heroes indeed -endure in _our_ memories through the song of the Muse. These characters -assert their condition on their own account, and in the cause of their -own individuality: they do not so much exist in our imagination; -they are _themselves_ essentially eternal. The perpetuation through -the Mnemosyne of the poet has here the objective force of the very -judgments of God, in whose Name the most dauntless spirit of his time -has damned or beatified the entire present and past. - -The exposition also must perforce follow the above character of an -object, which is received rather than given. It can only be a wandering -through a world that is for ever determined; which, although it is -discovered, organized, and peopled with the freedom of the imagination -wherewith Hesiod and Homer created their gods, nevertheless undertakes -to give us a picture and a report of what has actually happened, an -account full of energetic movement, yet plastic in the rigidity of its -pains; rich in the flashes of its horror, yet mitigated pitifully in -Hell through Dante's own sympathy; more gracious in purgatory, but none -the less fully and completely elaborated; and, finally, translucent as -light in Paradise, and for ever without materia form in the eternal -ether of thought. - -The ancient world no doubt peers into this world of the Catholic -poet, but only as the guiding star and companion of human wisdom and -culture; for, where it is a question of doctrine and dogma, it is the -scholasticism of Christian theology and love which speaks. - -(_γγ_) A _third_ fundamental subject-matter, which arrests the interest -of the poetry of the Middle Ages, is that of _chivalry._ This interest -is not merely limited to its worldly and romantic association with -love-adventure and tilting matches, but is occupied with religious -objects in virtue of the mysticism of Christian knighthood. The -actions and events of such compositions have no relation to national -interests; they are matters effected by individuals, which only -concern the personal agent as such; they are generally similar to -what I have described in my previous reference to romantic chivalry. -Individuals are consequently placed in a position of complete freedom -and independence. A novel form of heroism is thereby created within a -social environment that is not as yet stereotyped to the prosaic mode -and temper; a heroism, however, which, on account of interests which -in part are due to religious phantasy, and in part--that is from the -worldly point of view--are wholly personal and imaginary, eschews that -substantive Real, upon the basis of which the Greek heroes are united, -or as units contend, are victorious or are vanquished. Despite all the -varied epic compositions, which such a course as the above occasions, -the adventurous character of the situations, conflicts and plots rather -tends, on the one hand, in the direction of a treatment usually met -with in romances, where the various examples of adventure are loosely -interwoven in no more stringent bond of unity, and on the other to that -which, while sharing the general features of such works, is not evolved -on the background of a consistently organized civic order and a truly -prosaic condition of general life. Moreover the imagination is not -content with the mere invention of knightly characters and adventures -outside the pale of the ordinary world of things; it furthermore -associates the exploits of the same with important legendary centres of -interest, pre-eminent historical personages, decisive conflicts of the -age, and receives by doing so, if we view its broader lines, at least -a foundation such as we found indispensable to epic creation. Such a -basis, however, we shall find is as a rule commingled with fantastic -elements, and is unable to secure the clarity of objective vision in -its elaboration, which above all distinguishes the Homeric Epos. Add to -this the fact that on account of the very similar treatment accorded -to the same subject-matter by Frenchmen, Englishmen, Germans, and to -some extent even Spaniards, we fail to find here relatively at least, -and if we contrast it with that of the Hindoo, Persian, Greek, and -Celt, the essentially national temper, which in the last-mentioned -cases constitutes in its security the epic core of the content and its -execution. I must, however, excuse myself here from entering further -into the detail of this aspect, either by way of illustration or -critical judgment. It will be sufficient if I merely draw attention to -the larger circle, within which the most important of these Epopaea of -knight-errantry are to be met with if we estimate them relatively to -their subject-matter. - -As a _leading_ figure in this respect we have first Charles the Great -with his peers in the conflict fought against Saracens and pagans. In -this Frankish circle of legend feudal chivalry forms a background of -prime importance, and branches off into poems of every description, -whose most significant material is concerned with the exploits of one -of the twelve heroes, such as Roland or Doolin, of Maintz and others. -More particularly in France during the reign of Philip Augustus many of -such Epopees were composed. We have a _further_ garland of legend with -an English source, one which aims at reproducing the exploits of King -Arthur and the Round Table. Legendary tale, the chivalry of Normans and -Englishmen, service to woman, the fealty of the vassal, are all here -involved together in melancholy or fantastic combination with Christian -mysticism. The search for the Holy Grail, that chalice containing the -sacred blood of Christ, is, indeed, one main object of all knightly -exploit, and every description of fantastic adventure originates -in this source, until, finally, the entire company takes flight to -Abyssinia. The above two subjects of legendary story are worked out -with most completeness in Northern France, England, and Germany. And -as a last illustration we have a _third_ circle of chivalrous poetry, -composed with yet more caprice and less substantive content, which -ever tends to emphasize knightly heroism to an excess with ideas of -fairyland and fable; this rather points to Portugal or Spain as its -original nursery. In this the family of the Amadi are accepted as -principal heroes. - -The great allegorical poems, so much beloved mainly in Northern France -in the thirteenth century, are more nearly prose compositions in their -abstract type. I will only mention one example of these, that is, the -famous _Roman de la Rose._ We may compare or rather contrast such -with the many anecdotes and still lengthier narratives, the so-called -_fabliaux_ and _contes_, which rather borrow their subject-matter from -contemporary life, tales of knights, priests, citizens, and above all -_amours_, lawful and the reverse, retailed to us sometimes in the comic -vein, at others in the tragic, now in prose, and again in verse. Such -was the type of writing which the clear intellect and trained culture -of a Boccaccio carried to its perfection. - -There is a final class of such compositions, which, turning to the -ancients--with a casual knowledge of the Epic of Homer and Virgil, or -ancient legend, celebrates also, in precisely the manner of the Epopaea -of chivalry, the exploits of Trojan heroes, the foundation of Rome by -Æneas, the conquests of Alexander, and other like subjects. - -And this will conclude what I have to say upon the Epic poetry of the -Middle Ages. - -(_γ_) In a _third_ principal group of which I have still to speak, -the rich and pregnant study of _ancient_ literature marks a point of -departure for the purer artistic taste of a new culture, in whose -learning, assimilation, and blending of diverse elements, however, -we frequently miss that primitive creative power, which we admire in -the Hindoos, Arabs, as also in Homer and writers of the Middle Ages. -In the many-sided development in which, dating from this age of the -re-awakened sciences and their influence on national literatures, the -actual conditions of mankind undergo a reform in religion, political -condition, morals, and social relations, epic poetry also seizes hold -of the most varied content, as also the most manifold forms, the -historical course of which I can only direct attention to in its most -essential characteristics. - -(_αα_) _First,_ we may remark that it is still the _Middle Ages_, which -now, as previously, supplies the material for the Epos, although the -same is conceived and presented in a new spirit, namely, one permeated -with the culture of classic literature> We find here pre-eminently two -directions in which the art of epic poetry displays itself. - -On the one side the awakening consciousness of the age shows a -necessary tendency to treat as ridiculous all that is capricious in -the adventurous feats of the Middle Ages, all that is fantastic and -exaggerated in chivalry, all that is merely formal in the independence -and personal isolation of the heroes, and which is now contained within -a social reality embracing more abundance of national conditions and -interest; a consciousness which further brings this entire world before -our vision in the light of comedy, which does this, however much -what is really genuine within it is also asserted, with seriousness -and delight. As the culminating points of this genial conception -of the entire world of chivalry I have already pointed to Ariosto -and Cervantes. I will therefore in the present passage merely draw -attention to the brilliant facility, the charm and wit, the loveliness -and intense ingenuousness, with which Ariosto, whose poem still hovers -among the poetic aims of the Middle Ages, merely in a more veiled -and humorous fashion makes what is fantastic vanish away by means of -the incredibility of his nonsense, while the profounder romance of -Cervantes already assumes knight-errantry to be a Past behind it; -which, consequently, can only enter into the real prose and presence of -life as vanity in its isolation and fantastic folly; yet at the same -time it gives equal prominence to its great and noble aspects in their -contrast to what is awkward, stupid, devoid of reason and order in this -very prosaic reality, making the defects of the same live before our -eyes. - -Among writers who have contributed to a _second_ phase in this type -of epic development I will merely mention the representative name -of Tasso. In his "Jerusalem Delivered" this poet, in contrast to -the poetry of Ariosto, selects for his central theme, without any -admixture of the humorist's temper whatever, the great and common -aims of Christian chivalry, the recovery of the Holy Sepulchre, the -victorious pilgrimage of the Crusades, and, after the model of Homer -and Virgil, creates an Epos with enthusiasm and study, which may even -be compared with the great prototypes abovementioned. And no doubt we -do discover in this work, quite apart from a genuine, and, in part, -too, national and religious interest, a type of unity, development, -and elaboration of the whole such as we have previously fixed as a -primary condition. We may add to this a fascinating music in the -verse, which makes the same still harmonious to living speech. What, -however, is pre-eminently wanting in this poem is just that kind of -primitive origin which is alone able to create the real Bible of -an entire nation. In other words, instead of having, as in Homer's -case, a work which, as true Epos, expresses once for all in language, -and with direct simplicity, that which the nation is through its -actions, the epic in question rather appears simply a poem, that is, a -poetically constructed event. We are mainly pleased and satisfied with -it in virtue of the artistic effect of its beautiful speech and form, -whether we consider its more lyrical aspects, or its epic descriptions. -Consequently, however much Tasso may have taken Homer for his model in -the collective arrangement of his material, in the entire spirit of the -conception and presentation it is rather and in chief the influence of -Virgil that we actually discover in the work, and of course do so not -to the poem's advantage. - -_Finally_, among the great Epopaea, which are constructed upon the -basis of a classic culture, we must include the "Lysiad" of Camoens. -In the subject-matter of this entirely national composition, which -celebrates the bold sea-faring of the Portuguese, we are already beyond -the true Middle Ages, and have interests unfolded, which inaugurate a -new era. But here, too, despite the glow of its patriotism, despite -the life-like character of the descriptive matter, based for the most -part upon the author's own experience, we are still conscious of a -real barrier between the subject that is national and an artistic -culture which is partly borrowed from the ancients and in part from the -Italians, and which impairs its impression as a truly original epic. - -(_ββ_) The essentially new manifestations in the religious belief and -actual composition of modern life originate in the principle of the -Reformation. The whole tendency of this general change of outlook is, -indeed, rather favourable to lyric and dramatic, than epic poetry. -But we do find nevertheless, even in the latter sphere, an autumnal -blossoming of the religious Epopaea, of which the pre-eminent examples -are Milton's "Paradise Lost" and Klopstock's "Messias." In breadth -of culture, gained through study of the ancients, and the correct -elegance of his language, Milton is no doubt an admirable master -of his age. In the profundity of his content, in energy, original -invention and execution, and, above all, in the epic objectivity of -his presentment, however, he is in every respect inferior to Dante. -For not only does the conflict and the catastrophe of "Paradise Lost" -take a direction which is contrary to its dramatic character; but, as -I have above incidentally observed, it is, in a unique way, supported -by a lyrical impulse and ethical or didactic predilections, which lie -far enough away from the subject in its original form.[35] I have -already, in discussing Klopstock, referred to a similar cleft between -the material and the form, which a particular age gives to it in its -epic reflection. In the case of Klopstock, moreover, an endeavour is -throughout apparent through a rhetoric, which is little more than the -caricature of the Sublime, to infuse the reader with that recognition -of the worth and solemnity of his subject, which the poet has himself -experienced. From a somewhat different point of view we arrive at very -much the same conclusion in the case of Voltaire's "Henriade." At any -rate here too the poetry is an artificial production, and all the more -so, inasmuch as the material, as already observed, is not adapted to -the truly primitive Epos. - -(_γγ_) If we try to discover really epic compositions in our own day -we shall find ourselves in an atmosphere totally different from that -of the genuine Epopaea. The general condition of the world to-day has -assumed a form, which, in its prosaic character, is diametrically -opposed to everything which we found indispensable to the genuine Epos, -while the revolutions, which have been imposed upon the actual social -conditions of states and nations, are still too strongly riveted in -our memory as actual experiences that they should be able to receive -an epic type of art. Epic poetry has consequently taken refuge from -the great national events in the narrow circle of the domestic life -of individuals in the country and in the small town, striving to find -here the material adapted to epic composition. In this way, more -particularly among us Germans, the Epic has become idyllic, after the -genuine Idyll, of the sweet sentimentality and wishy-washy type, died -out. - -As an example lying close to hand of an idyllic Epos I will merely -mention the "Luise" of Voss, as also and above all Goethe's -masterpiece, "Herman and Dorothea." In the latter work we have -no doubt our attention directed to the background of the greatest -world-event of our age, with which the circumstances of the innkeeper -and his family, of the pastor and the apothecary, are directly -associated. And inasmuch as the little country town is not placed -before us in its political relations we at once remark a gap in the -narrative which is not explained or mediated by any connecting link. -Yet it is precisely through this omission of the intermediate link -that the whole keeps its unique character. For with the stroke of a -master Goethe has removed the revolution into the background, despite -the fact that he has known how to make the most happy use of it in the -enlargement of his poem. He only interweaves such circumstances with -the action as, in their simple humanity, connect themselves absolutely -without constraint with domestic and civic conditions. The main point, -therefore, is that Goethe in this work has succeeded in detaching from -the reality of our modern life traits, descriptions, conditions, and -developments, and depicting the same, which in their province once more -make that alive which contributes to the imperishable charm of those -primitive human conditions of the Odyssey and the patriarchal picture -of the Old Testament. - -In respect to other spheres of our present national and social life -I would observe in conclusion that in the field of epic poetry there -are practically unlimited opportunities for the _romance_, the -_narrative_, and the _novel._ I am, however, unable, even in the most -general outline, to follow the history of these in the breadth of their -development from their first appearance until the present time. - - - -[Footnote 1: _Die echt poetische Abrundung._ Not, however, merely -literary finish, but complete ideal totality.] - -[Footnote 2: _Einem bestimmten Tone_. Perhaps more truly "a particular -strain or atmosphere." But both aspects are suggested.] - -[Footnote 3: There is a misprint here _eine recht_ for _einer echt_, -and also I should prefer eight lines lower down _die_ for _das_ -agreeing with _Freiheit_ rather than _Leben._] - -[Footnote 4: This sentence is obviously ironical, but the sense -intended is not very clear. The words _die sic_ are clearly a misprint -for _die sick,_ and I presume _kindisch_ is not used in its more common -depreciatory sense of childish. I am, however, not very confident of -my translation. _War es ein Zeichen_ would apparently refer back to -the general intention of the previous sentence, _i.e.,_ the attempt of -Klopstock and others to make a national book.] - -[Footnote 5: See vol. I, pp. 240-289, and particularly pp. 270-289.] - -[Footnote 6: _Eine Sittlichkeit._] - -[Footnote 7: Poet., c. 14.] - -[Footnote 8: That is to say, that the whole remains intact in its -opposition. The question of international ethics is not directly -considered, though reference is here made to historical evolution in -its widest sense.] - -[Footnote 9: Wrong that is inflicted on a state which is, as a whole, -innocent.] - -[Footnote 10: I presume the reference is mainly to the United States. -Hegel's sentence is _so möchten diese nur den Sieg dereinstiger -Americanischer lebendiger Vernünftigkeit über die Einkerkerung in ein -ins Unendliche fortgehendes Messen und Particularisiren darzustellen -haben._ It may be doubted, perhaps, whether he would have expressed -himself with equal confidence in our own day. At least the position of -the German States of his own time no doubt was strongly present in his -mind.] - -[Footnote 11: _Von einem anderen beschränkt._ Curtailed, I imagine, as -a spontaneous and free power.] - -[Footnote 12: That is acting in subservience to eternal forces, not -directing those forces. Hegel conceives the event as supplying the -lines of direction through which the forces are effective.] - -[Footnote 13: _Aus der Dumpfheit des Bewusstseyns._ Out of the -confusions of consciousness.] - -[Footnote 14: I have adopted the masculine gender in accordance with -the text, though of course it does not imply personality in the -ordinary sense.] - -[Footnote 15: I suppose the meaning is that it is a purely objective -panorama.] - -[Footnote 16: _Seiner Sache,_ Somewhat vague and difficult to -translate. It means more than his affair or business.] - -[Footnote 17: _Trauer._ Mournfulness or gloom is perhaps better.] - -[Footnote 18: Liv., II, c. 32.] - -[Footnote 19: Lit., so far as they do not emphasize essential phases in -(_Momente_).] - -[Footnote 20: I presume the allusion is to the way, already -illustrated, the Homeric gods do not take themselves seriously.] - -[Footnote 21: Messias, Canto II, vv, 627-850.] - -[Footnote 22: It is possible Hegel means by _geistige_ intelligible.] - -[Footnote 23: Act II, sc. 6.] - -[Footnote 24: "O, that I had never shipped hither over the sea, unhappy -that I am! Vain was the fancy which befooled me to seek an empty fame -in France; and now a fatal destiny carries me to this bloody field of -death. O that I were far from here housed at home on the banks of the -blue Severn, where the mother remained behind and the gentle sweet -bride mourning for me."] - -[Footnote 25: "To Death thou art decreed! A British matron it was that -conceived thee!"] - -[Footnote 26: "With vow to slay at everything alive with the sword that -the fateful god of battles confronts her with."] - -[Footnote 27: _Sitte und Settlichkeit._] - -[Footnote 28: That is of the Epos.] - -[Footnote 29: The course of painting is similar to that of sculpture -in virtue of the fact that it is wholly of one type, viz., romantic, -but it differs from it in being less objective and requiring more -historical illustration.] - -[Footnote 30: _Substantiellen_, _i.e.,_ an outlook which concentrates -attention on the one Divine substance, the essence beneath the -phenomenal.] - -[Footnote 31: I presume this is another Persian composition, but it may -be a cult of some kind.] - -[Footnote 32: Substantive as contrasted with phenomenal.] - -[Footnote 33: That is the Iliad and Odyssey.] - -[Footnote 34: What Hegel means to say by this and the following -paragraph is by no means clear. He first seems to state as a fact -that a rivalry may be asserted, or at least has been asserted by -others, between the Spanish romances and the finest Greek and Latin -epic literature, and then immediately afterwards denies the fact so -far as the Iliad and Odyssey is concerned. The confusion and indeed -uncertainty seems to be due to the fact that while explaining the -disadvantage in which the German work is placed as compared with the -Spanish romances, he merely contrasts the Homeric poems with the -former. What he apparently means us to infer is that the latter are -as superior as the German work is, at least as an Epos, inferior. The -words "we moderns" are apparently ironical. In any case the entire -passage is, I think, clearly one which needed revision, and it is -possible that the two paragraphs have been tacked together by Hegel's -editors from different connections.] - -[Footnote 35: As we find it, presumably, in Genesis.] - - - - -(B.) LYRIC POETRY - - -The poetic imagination does not, as the plastic arts do, present the -objects of its creation before our vision in an objective shape, -but only envisages them to the inward vision and emotions. No doubt -from the first, relatively to certain aspects of this universal type -of composition, it is the _personal_ quality of ideal creation and -construction which pre-eminently asserts itself in the presented -work, and as such is to be contrasted with plastic construction. But -when epic poetry offers to our contemplation its object either in its -substantive universality, or under a mode comparable with that of -sculptor and painter--in other words, in its living presence--in that -case, at least where the art is most consummate, the individual mind -and soul of the creator involved in the creation disappears before -the objective result created. The above personal or subjective aspect -of mind can only completely be discarded in so far as, in the first -place, the entire world of objects and relations are essentially -absorbed by it and then permitted to stand forth freely from the -veiled presence of the individual consciousness, and, further, in so -far as the self-centred soul unbars its doors, opens wide its ears and -eyes, extends the purely unenlightened feeling to vision and idea, -and attaches to this wealth of hidden content word and speech as the -vehicle of its intimate self-expression. And just in proportion as -this kind of communication persists in shutting itself away from the -objective manifestation of epic art, to that extent, and precisely -for that reason, the subjective type of poetry is bound to find its -own forms, in a province of its own, wholly independent of the Epos. -In other words, the human spirit descends from the objectivity of -the object into its own private domain; it peers into its particular -conscious life; it endeavours to satisfy the desire to reproduce the -presence and reality of _that_, as displayed in soul, in the experience -of heart and reflected idea, and in doing so to unfold the content -and activity of the personal life rather than the actual presence of -the external fact. But, again, inasmuch as this expression, if it is -not simply to remain the chance expression of mere individuality[1] -in its immediate feeling and conception, must assert itself in speech -as the reflection of an inner life that is _poetic_, all that is -thus envisaged of feeling or otherwise--and however much, too, it -may be a part of the poet's unique personality, and be presented -by him as such--must nevertheless possess a universal validity, in -other words, it must essentially include feelings and reflections for -which the art of poetry is able to discover the vital and adequate -means of expression. And although, apart from this, pain and desire, -as conceived, described, and expressed in speech, may lighten the -heart, and poetic ebullition is unquestionably permissible for such a -purpose, yet its function is not restricted to such domestic service. -Rather it has a nobler vocation, which is not so much to liberate the -human spirit from emotion, but in the medium of the same. The blind -tumult of passion surges on in a union with the entire soul-life -unenlightened, unawakened to the grasp of mind. In such a state the -soul cannot assert itself in idea and expression. It is the function -of poetry no doubt to free the heart from such a prison house, in so -far as it presents that life as an object to it. But it does more -than this mere translation of content from the immediacy of emotional -experience; it creates therefrom an object which is purified from all -mere contingency of the passing mood; an object in which the soul-life -in this deliverance returns once more to itself freely and with -self-conscious satisfaction, and remains there at home. Conversely, -however, this primary objectivisation ought not to be carried to -the point of a reflection that actually discloses the individual -activity of the soul-life and its passions as it is carried forward in -practical impulse and _action_; in other words, in the self-return of -the individual upon himself in veritable deed. For the most pertinent -reality of our inner life is still itself an inward something, and -consequently this passage from itself can only give us the _sense_ of -deliverance from the immediate concentration of heart in its blind and -formless presence, which now unbars itself in self-expression, and in -doing so grasps and expresses what was previously merely felt in the -form of a self-conscious vision and ideas. And with these remarks I -think we have determined in their essential features both the sphere -and function of lyric poetry as contrasted with the epic and dramatic -types. - -As regards the more detailed examination and classification of our new -subject-matter, we cannot do better than follow the course previously -adopted in our examination of epic poetry. - -_First_, we have to discuss the _general_ character of lyric -composition. - -_Secondly_, we shall consider the _particular_ characteristics which -make the lyric work of art and the types of the same worthy of -attention in their more direct relation to the lyric poet. - -_Thirdly_, we shall conclude the survey with a few remarks upon the -_historical_ development of this class of poetic work. - -Generally I may remark that this survey will be extremely restricted, -and for two reasons--first, because I am compelled to reserve the -necessary space for the discussion of the dramatic field; secondly, -because I must limit myself exclusively to general considerations, -inasmuch as the detail embraced by it possesses far more incalculable -resources of manifold complexity than in the case of the Epos, and -could only be treated in greater fulness and completeness if viewed -historically, which is not within the aim of the present work. - - - - -I. GENERAL CHARACTER OF THE LYRIC. - - -In the stimulus of epic poetry is the desire to hear the thing or -matter which is unfolded on its own account, and independently of -the poet,[2] as an objective and essentially exclusive totality. In -the lyric, on the contrary, it is the converse need which finds its -satisfaction in self-expression and the coming to a knowledge of the -soul in this expression of itself. With regard to the nature of this -effusion,[3] we may enumerate its most important constituents as -follows: - -_First,_ there is the _content_ in which soul-life is aware of itself -and reflects itself in idea. - -_Secondly_, there is the _form,_ in virtue of which the expression of -this content becomes lyric poetry. - -_Thirdly_, there is the stage of conscious life and culture from which -the person thus lyrically viewed discloses his feelings and ideas. - -(_a_) The content of the lyric work of art cannot comprise the -development of an objective action in its possibilities of expansion -into all the breadth and wealth of a world. It is the single person, -and along with him the isolated fact of situation and objects, no less -than the mode and manner in which the soul is made aware of itself in -such content, with its private judgments, its joy, its wonder, its -pain, and its feeling, which it presents to our vision. Through this -principle of division and particularity, as present in the Lyric, the -content may be of the greatest variety, associated with every tendency -of national life. There is, however, this essential distinction, that -whereas the Epos combines in one and the same work the spirit of a -people in all its breadth, and in its actual deed and fashion, the more -definite content of lyrical poetry limits itself to one particular -aspect, or at least is unable successfully to attain to the explicit -completeness and exposition which the Epos ought at least to possess. -The entire wealth of lyrical poetry in a nation may, therefore, no -doubt embrace the collective exuberance of national interest, idea, and -purpose; but it is not the single lyrical poem that can do this. - -The Lyric is not called upon to produce Bibles such as we have -discovered in Epic poetry. It does, however, enjoy the advantage -of being able to touch upon every conceivable aspect of national -development; whereas the true Epos is limited to distinct epochs of -a primitive age, and its success in our more recent times of prosaic -culture is very jejune. - -(_α_) Within this field of particularization we have, to start with, -the _universal_ as such--the supreme height and depth of human belief, -imagination, and knowledge--the essential content of religion, art, ay, -even of scientific thought, in so far as the same is adaptable to the -form of imagination and creation, and can enter the sphere of emotions. -Consequently general opinions, what is of permanent substance in a view -of the world, the profounder grasp of far-reaching social conditions -are all not excluded from the Lyric; and a considerable part of the -material I have referred to[4] when discussing the more incomplete -types of the Epic falls rightly, and with pertinency into the sphere -now under review. - -(_β_) And along with such essentially universal topics we have -associated the aspect of _particularity_, which can be so interwoven -with what is thus substantive that any specific situation, feeling, or -idea is thereby seized in its profounder significance and expressed in -a way wholly accordant thereto. This is, for example, almost always -the case in Schiller's lyrical work, as also in his ballads; in this -connection I will merely recall the superb description of the Eumenides -chorus in the Cranes of Ibicus, which is neither dramatic nor epic, -but lyrical. From a further point of view we may have this combination -so asserted that a variety of particular traits, moods, occurrences -are introduced by way of testimony to comprehensive views and maxims, -interlaced in vital coalescence by virtue of the general principle. -This style of writing is frequently employed in the elegy and epistle, -and generally in reflections upon life of a comprehensive character. - -(_γ_) In conclusion, inasmuch as in lyrical composition what is -self-expressed is the _individual person_, a content, which is -extremely slight, will primarily suffice for this purpose. It is, in -other words, the soul itself, subjective life simply, which is the -true content. The emphasis is therefore throughout upon the animation -of feeling, rather than upon the more immediate object. The most -fleeting moods of the moment, the overjoyment of the heart, the swiftly -passing gleams or clouds of careless merriment and jest, sorrow, -melancholy, and complaint, in a word, all and every phase of emotion -are here seized in their momentary movement or isolated occurrence, -and rendered permanent in their expression. What we find here in the -domain of poetry may be paralleled with what I previously referred to -when describing _genre_ paintings. The content, the subject-matter, is -here the wholly contingent, and what is over and above this important -is exclusively the character of the individual conception and mode of -presentment, the charm of which in the Lyric will either consist in -the aroma of exquisite feeling, or in the novelty of arresting points -of view, and the genial suggestion of literary phrases and turns which -surprise. - -(_b_) In the _second_ place we may observe in general with respect -to the _form_, wherein the Lyric is composed, that here too it is -the individual person, in the intimacy of his ideas or emotion that -constitutes the focal centre. The growth of the whole is rooted in the -heart and temperament; it starts, to be more precise, from a particular -mood and situation of the poet. By virtue of this fact the content and -conjunction of the particular aspects of its growth are not inferred -from it objectively as a substantively independent content, or from -its external manifestation as some really self-exclusive event, but -are borrowed from the individual subject as such. But for this reason -it is essential that the individual in question should himself appear -poetical, rich in fancy and feeling, or imposing and profound in his -views and reflections, and above all should be essentially independent, -the possessor of a unique ideal world, from which the servility and -caprice of a prosaic nature is excluded. - -The lyric poem, then, retains a mode of unity wholly different from -that of the Epos, in other words, the mysterious intimacy of the -mood or reflection, which expatiates upon itself, mirrors itself -in the objective world, describes itself, or concerns itself as it -wills with any other matter, always, however, retaining the right -in the pursuit of such an interest to begin and break off very much -as it pleases. Horace, for instance, very frequently comes to a stop -at the very point, where, in the commonplace view of its literary -treatment, we might suppose he had only just started with his subject. -In other words, what he describes is simply his feelings, commands or -arrangements for a banquet, say, without giving us further information -as to how it went off. In the same way we have every conceivable mode -of progression and combination supplied by the nature of the mood, the -actual condition of the individual soul-life, the degree of passion, -its excitement or rapid transition of conflicting emotion, or the -tranquillity of the heart or the mind in some long-drawn process of -contemplation. As a rule, in respect to all such subject-matter, we -are able to determine very little that is fixed, owing to the repeated -changes in the ever varied facets of the soul. I will therefore -restrict myself to a few salient points of distinction. - -(_α_) Just as we met with several specific kinds of epic poetry which -showed a tendency to adopt a lyric vein of expression, so, too, the -Lyric may accept as its subject-matter and its form an occurrence, -which, so far as content and external appearance are concerned, are -epic, and to this extent it will approximate to the latter type. Heroic -songs, romances, and ballads belong to such a class. The form of the -whole is in such examples narrative, inasmuch as it is the progressive -advance of a situation or event, as among other instances, a particular -direction in the fate of a nation, which is communicated. And yet at -the same time the fundamental temper is wholly lyric, inasmuch as the -main object is not to give us a description and representation of the -actual fact apart from all relation to the narrator, but rather to -disclose his personal attitude to it in the way he conceives and feels -it, whether with delight or complaint, whether as a stimulus to good -or depressed spirits, the mood in short that rings throughout it. And -similarly the nature of the impression which the poet endeavours to -produce thereby is entirely that of the province of the lyric. In other -words, what the poet seeks to effect in his audience is precisely that -state of emotion, which the recounted event has produced in himself, -and which he therefore has attached to his composition. He expresses -his dejection, mourning, merriment, his fire of patriotism, and so -forth, in an appropriate occurrence in such a way that it is not this -fact so much which contributes, as it were, the focus, but rather the -state of his emotional life we find reflected therein. And for this -reason he, above all emphasizes those traits, and depicts the same with -feeling, which are in accord with his own personal impulses; and in -the degree of vivacity with which these are expressed by them the same -feelings are likely to be excited in his audience. And thus, though the -content may be epic, the treatment is lyrical. - -(_αα_) To come yet more directly to detail there is, first, the -example of the _epigram_, in such a case where it is not merely an -inscription which states concisely the bald nature of some fact, but -further associates with this an emotional state; where, in short, the -content, regarded as the bare statement of external fact, is merged -in a condition of the soul. In other words, the writer here ceases -to surrender himself wholly to the object: rather he makes his own -personality expressive in it; he records his desires with regard to it; -he attaches to it his own sportive fancies, his acute or unexpected -suggestions and associations. The Greek Anthology contains many such -witty epigrams which have lost the epic manner. In more recent times -we find similar examples in the piquante couplets of the French, -abundantly illustrated in their Vaudevilles. We Germans have much the -same thing in our didactic distiches, Xenien, and the like. Even tomb -inscriptions frequently approximate to this lyrical character in virtue -of the strong emotions expressed. - -(_ββ_) In much the same way the Lyric accepts a wider range in -descriptive narrative. I will merely mention, as a composition of this -class, the _romance._ It is the most obvious and simple form of it, in -so far that is as it isolates the different scenes of an event, and -then depicts rapidly and with the full force of their most important -characteristics each on its own account, in descriptions marked -throughout by sympathetic feeling. Such a consistent and well-defined -grasp of the characteristic features of a situation, together with an -emphatic assertion of the writer's absolute sympathy with his subject, -is above all nobly represented in Spanish literature and makes such -romances strikingly impressive. A peculiar clarity of atmosphere -surrounds these lyrical representations which rather identifies them -with the clear-cut definition of objective vision, than with the ideal -world of the imagination. - -(_γγ_) The class of the _ballad_, in contrast to the above, includes -for the most part, if in less degree than the truly epic poem, the -completeness of an independent event, whose reflection, of course, it -merely embodies in the most conspicuous of its phases, while it seeks -at the same time to give full, if concentrated and ideal emphasis, to -the depth of the sentiment with which it is throughout interwoven, and -therein the plaint, dejection, joy, and so forth, of the soul. English -literature above all contains many such poetic compositions in the -early and more primitive epoch of its history; and, generally, popular -poetry delights in the narration of such histories and collisions, -usually unfortunate, with a true and emotional emphasis calculated -to make both heart and voice thrill and falter with anguish. But in -more recent times also among ourselves Bürger and, most famous of all, -Goethe and Schiller, have composed masterpieces in this field; Bürger -in virtue of his sombre tone of naïveté; Goethe through the impeccable -clarity of his emotional, no less than imaginative vision, which -forms the lyrical thread throughout; and Schiller, on account of his -superb emotional emphasis on the fundamental thought which he seeks, -in a wholly lyrical manner, to express under the form of an event, in -order thereby to affect the hearts of his readers with a similar lyric -movement of feeling and contemplation. - -(_β_) The purely _personal_ element of lyric poetry is rightly -emphasized in those cases, when the fact of a given situation is taken -by the poet as an effective means of expressing his _own_ individuality -therein. Such is the case in the so-called poems _d'occasion._ So far -back as the poems of Callinus and Tyrtaeus we find elegies of battle -based on conditions regarded as real, which are made the stimulus -of a personal enthusiasm, albeit the poet's own individuality, his -purely private affections and feelings, are as yet not so much in -evidence. The Pindaric Odes also bring to light in their panegyrics -of particular contests, victors, and circumstances, a vein or impulse -that is more private; and yet more in some of the odes of Horace we -mark a definitely personal motive, or rather expressed thought to -the effect, "I will as myself a man of culture and fame, write a poem -on this subject." But the best illustration of all we have in our own -Goethe, whose partiality for such a style was due to the fact that he -discovered a poem in every incident of his life. - -(_αα_) If, however, the lyric work of art is to be divested of all -_dependence_ of external occasion and purpose, that may be implied in -it, and to be composed as a self-subsistent whole on its own account, -it is obviously essential that the poet also only make use of such -external stimulus as an opportunity to express _himself,_ his mood, -delight, sorrow, or modes of thought and reflection generally. The -condition of most importance to such an intimate mode of personal -expression consists in the poet's ability to absorb the real content -absolutely, converting it thereby into his own possession. The true -lyric poet lives a life of introspection, he grasps relations in the -light of his poetic individuality; and, however in varied fashion his -inner life may be blended with the world around him, in its conditions -and destiny, what he presents to us exclusively in such material is the -unique and independent animation of his own emotions and observations. -When, to take our former example, Pindar was invited to celebrate a -victor of the Hellenic games, or undertakes this uninvited, he made -himself so entirely master of his subject-matter, that his composition -no longer so much appears a poem _on_ the victor as an effusion of song -created from his own resources. - -(_ββ_) If we consider more closely the manner of presentment of such a -poem _d'occasion,_ we shall, no doubt, be ready to admit that the same -can to a real extent borrow its more defined material and character, -no less than its conceived organization as an artistic work, from the -actual features of the occurrence or individual which constitute its -content. It is, in fact, precisely from this content that the emotional -movement of the poet proceeds. As the most illuminating, though an -extreme example, I will merely mention Schiller's "Song of the Bell," -which makes out of the varied stages of bell-foundry the significant -and arresting moments in the composition of the entire poem, and only -subject to this introduces the emotional element relevant thereto, -as also the various observations upon human life and the description -of its conditions. In a somewhat different manner, too, Pindar makes -use of the place of birth of the victor, the exploits of the family -to which he belongs, or other relations of life as an opportunity in -his own person to exalt certain gods to the exclusion of others, or to -mention these particular exploits and results alone, or to emphasize -exclusively the observations or maxims he has interpolated. From a -further point of view, however, the lyric poet is absolutely free, -inasmuch as it is not the external occasion as such, but rather the -poet's _own_ soul-life which is here the subject; and consequently it -entirely depends on the particular views of the poet and the character -of his general mood, what aspects of the subject-matter and in what -threads of connection and sequence they shall be composed. In other -words, we are unable to predict decisively and _a priori_ the degree -in which the objective occasion with its given content, or the purely -personal factor of poet, shall be predominant, or whether both aspects -shall on equal terms coalesce. - -(_γγ_) Furthermore, it is not the incentive and its positive reality, -but the ideal movement and conception of the individual soul which -supplies the _focus of unity._ The particular mood or general review, -which is aroused poetically by the occasion, these constitute the -centre, radiating from which not merely the colour of the whole, but -also the embrace of the particular features unfolded, the very mode of -the execution and construction, and therewith the build and coalescence -of the poem as a work of art are determined. In this way, to return -to our previous example, Pindar possesses in the life-conditions -of his victors a genuine core of reality for differentiation or -amplification. In the particular poems, however, which he has written -it is invariably other points of view, another mood altogether, -whether it be of warning, comfort, or exaltation, which he makes most -pervasive, and which, although such exclusively belong to the poet in -his creative capacity, do none the less give him precisely that grasp -of all he wishes to touch upon, execute, and hand to posterity in -those historical facts, while unfolding therewith the illuminating and -constructive power of genius, without which he would fail to secure the -lyric effect intended. - -(_γ_) But, _thirdly_, it is not absolutely necessary for the genuine -lyrical poet to start from the external occurrence, which he recounts -in a medium rich with emotion, or, indeed, from any such objectively -real stimulus of his efforts. He is, let us repeat, a truly exclusive -world _in himself._ He may find there both the original incentive -and content, and consequently go no further than this ideal world of -condition, event, and passion discovered in his own heart and soul. -This is that domain in which man becomes, in virtue of his private -inner life, himself the work of art; while the epic poet avails himself -exclusively of the hero and his exploits and experiences for this -purpose. - -(_αα_) And yet in this field, too, an element of narrative may enter, -where, as in the case of the songs of Anacreon, bright little pictures -of adventure with Eros and the like receive the finish of delightful -miniatures. Such an event, however, must obviously rather resemble the -unveiling of a condition of personal soul-life. In a somewhat different -mode of the same thing Horace, in his _Integer vitæ_ makes use of the -fact of his meeting a wolf, not to the extent that we can, therefore, -call his poem the verse _d'occasion_, but rather regarding this fact -as the prompting force of his first sentence and the serenity of the -feelings of affection with which he concludes. - -(_ββ_) As a rule we may also observe that the situation under which the -poet depicts himself should not restrict itself merely to the _inner -personal_ life as such. It must rather attest itself as concrete, -and thereby we may even say external totality. The poet, in short, -reveals himself not merely in that inward personal life, but as one -of the objects of the external world. In the example just cited of -the Anacreon odes the poet depicts himself among roses, fair maidens, -and youths in the merry enjoyment of wine and dance, without regret -or yearning, without obligation, and yet without dislike of loftier -aims, which, indeed, are not present at all; reveals himself rather -as a hero, who freely and without reserve, and consequently without -hesitation or loss, is just this unity, is what he is, a man of his own -type, and figures as such in this intimate artistic presentment. In the -love-songs of Hafis also we may observe the entire vital individuality -of the poet in all its changes of content, pose, and an expression -which approaches close to self-conscious humour. And yet his poetry -is without any specific theme, any objective picture, any god, or -mythology; or, rather, when we peruse these light-hearted ebullitions, -one feels as though it would be impossible for the Oriental to possess -any such definite picture and constructive art. He passes easily from -one object to another; he takes his walks abroad, but it is a scene -in which the entire man, with his wine, his damsels, his court-life, -and all the rest of it, is placed before us with delightful unreserve, -without passion or self-seeking in the simplicity of his enjoyment eye -to eye and soul to soul. Improvisations of this type adapt themselves -in the most various ways not merely to a reflection of the soul-life, -but also to external condition. If, however, the poet is absorbed in -his own individual experience, we are not so much concerned to hear -his particular fancies, love affairs, domestic arrangements, and the -history of his uncles and aunts. We are so invited, for instance, -in Klopstock's Eidli and Fanny, as to nave some vision given us of -what is of universal human interest, in order that our sympathies may -be roused. From this point of view, therefore, such lyrical poetry -can readily degenerate into the spurious assumption that what is -essentially private and particular must necessarily awaken interest. -On the contrary, it would be no incorrect description of many songs -of Goethe if we called them "Songs of _Comradeship_," although they -are not exactly executed by the poet under such a category. In other -words, it is not so much himself that a man offers in society; rather -he places his particularity in the background, and converses with the -help of something else, whether it be a story or an anecdote, seizing -its specific features in some particular mood, and communicating them -agreeably to such a temper. In a case like this it is not exactly the -poet, and yet it is himself for all that. It is not himself he gives -us, but something else as best he can. He is, in short, an actor, who -runs through an infinite variety of parts. First he lingers on this, -then on that; he reviews momentarily a scene, then maybe a group of -people. But whatever he may endeavour to reproduce, it is throughout -his individual artistic soul-life, his own experience, his own feeling, -which is vitally interwoven with it. - -(_γγ_) But, further, in so far as the individuality of self-conscious -life is the true source of the Lyric, the poet is justified in limiting -his expression to his own moods and reflections without any further -combination of them in a concrete situation that includes a truly -objective character. It is in this direction that examples of what is -little more than an empty fluting for fluting's sake, the song and -trill simply on its own account, will yet give us genuine lyrical -satisfaction. In such the words are to a more or less extent merely -the vehicle of cheerfulness or sorrow, whose effect, moreover, very -readily serves as an invitation to musical accompaniment. Folk-songs -especially very often amount to little more than this. In the songs of -Goethe, too, though we may no doubt discover here a more defined and -abundant mode of expression, it is not unfrequently simply a single and -transitory bit of merriment that is vouchsafed, a passing mood that the -poet does not attempt to throw aside, but on the tune of which he pipes -for a moment in his tiny song. In others, of course, his treatment of -similar moods is on a larger scale, even systematic, as, for instance, -in the poem: "_Ich hab mein Sach' auf nichts gestellt_," in which the -poet passes before us as things that come and vanish, first, money -and property, then women, travel, fame, honour, and, last of all, -fight and war, retaining throughout as the ever-recurring refrain of -stability his own free and careless cheerfulness. Conversely, however, -the intimate individual life may from the same point of view grow in -depth and expansion, in conditions of the soul of the most imposing -proportions and ideas that embrace the world itself. A considerable -number of Schiller's poems are of this type. What is great, what opens -to intelligence, this is the incentive of his heart. But he will -neither celebrate in hymn fashion a religious or otherwise profound -subject; nor will he be the minstrel who looks for inspiration without -him to the pertinent fact or occasion. He sings in the presence of, and -inspired by, his own soul-life, the highest interest of which are the -ideals of life, beauty, and the imperishable claims and thoughts of our -humanity. - -(_c_) There is a _third_ consideration we have to deal with in -connection with the general character of lyric poetry. It is the nature -of the general stage of human development and culture from which the -isolated poem originates. - -In this respect, too, the Lyric occupies a position which is to be -contrasted with Epic poetry. In other words, while we regarded as -necessary for the full bloom of the true Epos a phase in the nation's -growth which was, speaking generally, undeveloped, at least in the -sense that it had not ripened in the prosaic acceptance of its actual -life, the times which favour most of all lyrical composition are those -which already are in possession of a more or less fixed organization -of social condition. It is in such a period that the individual seeks -a reflection of his intimate personal life in contrast to this outer -world, creating from it and within its limits an independent whole -of emotion and idea. For in the Lyric it is not, we repeat, the -objective solidarity and individual action, but the individual person -as self-conscious life which supplies both content and form. This, -however, must not be understood in such a way as though the individual, -in order to express himself in lyrical form, must perforce disjoin -himself from every connection with national interests and the opinions, -and with rigid and exclusive severity remain as he stands. - -On the contrary, with such an abstract self-subsistency we should only -have left us for content the wholly contingent and particular passion, -the mere caprice of concupiscence and affection, false idiosyncrasies -and distorted originality would have unlimited opportunities. Genuine -lyrical poetry, like all other poetry, has no doubt to express the -content of the human heart in its truth. Yet none the less, regarded as -the content of the Lyric, what is most a matter of fact and substantial -must appear absorbed in personal feeling, vision, imagination, and -thought. And, in the _second_ place, the question here is not so much -simply expression of the personal inner life, is not so much concerned -with a primary and direct statement in the epic fashion, what the facts -are, as with an expression of the poetical nature in a manner both -artistically fruitful and wholly different from chance and ordinary -modes. It follows that the Lyric requires, precisely on account of the -fact that the concentrated life of the heart unfolds itself in manifold -feelings and comprehensive views, and the individual is conscious -of the poetry of his most intimate life as nested in a world that -is already more prosaically organized--an artistic culture already -secured, which must assert itself as the flower and independent product -of the individual's natural endowment thus trained to a perfect result. -For these reasons the Lyric is not limited to particular epochs of the -spiritual development of a people, but is the rich blossom of the most -varied. To an exceptional degree is it favoured in more recent times, -in which everybody is entitled to have and express his own views and -emotions. - -I will, however, draw attention, in the interest of really important -distinction, to the following general considerations. - -(_a_) In the _first_ place, we have the type of lyrical expression -peculiar to _folk-songs._ - -(_αα_) In these above all we have witness to the varied and distinct -qualities of national character. It is on account of this, and -consonant with the widely-prevailing curiosity of our generation, that -great efforts are made to collect folk-songs of every kind, in order -to increase our acquaintance with the peculiarities of every national -spirit, and therewith our sympathies and vital contact with such. -Already Herder has done much in this direction. Goethe, too, with the -help of his own more independent imitations, has materially assisted an -approach to very different examples of this style of poetry. Complete -sympathy is, however, only possible for the songs of one's own people; -and however much we Germans are able to make ourselves at home in -the work of foreign lands, the fact remains that the ultimate aroma -in song[5] of the intimate life of another folk can only appear as -alien, that we shall only catch the echo of the tone of feeling that -truly belongs to it, with the assistance of a more native reflection -of its content.[6] This Goethe has imported into his songs of a -foreign subject-matter, stamped as they are with the finest sympathy -and beauty. We may take as an example the lament of the noble spouse -of Asan Aga, imitated from the Icelandic--only so far as to retain -throughout the unique spirit of such poems unimpaired. - -(_ββ_) The general character of the lyrical folk-song is comparable to -the primitive Epos in virtue of the fact that here too the poet does -not make himself his subject-matter, but is absorbed in his selected -material. Although, therefore, intensity of soul in its extreme -concentration may express itself in the folk-song, it is nevertheless -not a single person with the artistic expression of whose private -experience we are made acquainted. It is rather a national state of -feeling, which the author completely assimilates, in so far as it -possesses, when taken by itself, no intimate form of idea or feeling -wholly independent of the nation's existence and interests. And a -condition is necessary, as the presupposition for such an inseparable -union, in which independent personal reflection and culture is not -yet awakened, so that the poet is simply in his creative capacity -merely the vehicle in the background, by means of whom the national -life is expressed in its lyrical emotion and general outlook. This -directly primitive character no doubt communicates to the folk-song an -unconscious freshness of downright grasp and striking veracity, which -is often very effective; but it receives thereby along with it very -readily a fragmentary appearance; it is defective in the continuity -of its exposition, which may amount to actual obscurity. The feeling -dives into depth, but cannot and will not attain to full utterance. -Moreover, as before observed, what is absent from such a point of view -throughout, however much the form in general is wholly lyric, in other -words subjective, is just the lyrical individuality, which expresses -this form and its content as the possession of its _own_ heart and -mind, and the creation of its _own_ artistic resources. - -(_γγ_) Peoples, therefore, which confine themselves to poetry of this -type, and do not combine such composition with that of the further -stages of lyrical, epic, or dramatic work, are as a rule in great -measure barbarous nations, uncultured, characterized by transitory -feud and catastrophes. If they themselves, in such heroic ages, really -combined to form a truly pregnant whole, whose particular aspects -were already fused together in an independent and withal harmonious -objective union, which could supply the ground for essentially -concrete and individually distinct exploits, we should find in them, -along with such primitive poetry, epic poets as well. The condition, -out of which such songs assert themselves as the single and ultimate -mode of poetic expression, is therefore rather limited to the field -of family life and the association of clans, without any further -organization such as belongs already to the riper perfection of the -heroic community. If we are reminded here and there of national -exploits, such are for the most part conflicts waged against foreign -aggressors, expeditions of pillage, reprisals of savagery with -savagery, or deeds of one individual against another in the same -people, in the narration of which lament and dejection or ecstatic -jubilation over one conqueror after another, are the moods throughout -prevailing. The national life as it actually is, as yet unfolded in its -wholly free development, is relegated to the background in contrast -with the world of more personal feeling, which also, on its own -account, betrays an immaturity; and, however much thereby we gain in -concentration of effect, the result only too frequently remains, so far -as content is concerned, rude and barbarous. The question then, whether -folk-songs should possess for us a poetic interest, or on the contrary -repel us to some extent, depends on the kind of situation and emotion -they portray. That which appears admirable to the imagination of one -people, will readily strike another as wanting in taste, horrible, and -offensive. There is, for example, a folk-song which tells us the story -of a wife who was immured at the command of her husband, and all that -her plea for mercy could effect was that apertures should be left open -for her breasts, in order that she might suckle her child; we are told -that she remained alive until her child was weaned. This is a barbarous -and frightful situation. And in the same way tales of robbery, exploits -of the bluster or sheer savagery of individuals, possess nothing -in them in which alien peoples of a higher culture can sympathize. -Folksongs, consequently, very often run into great detail as to the -quality of which there is no fixed standard of comparison, because such -is too far removed from our common humanity. When we consequently, in -more recent times, are made acquainted with the songs of the Iroquois, -the Esquimaux, and other wild nationalities, the circle of a true -poetic enjoyment is in no wise thereby enlarged. - -(_β_) Further, inasmuch as the Lyric is the entire expression of the -inward life of Spirit, it can neither restrict itself to the mode of -expression nor the content of the genuine folksong, or of later poems -composed in a similar spirit. - -(_αα_) In other words, on the one hand, it is of essential importance, -as already remarked, that the wholly self-absorbed soul should detach -itself from this absolute concentration and its direct introspection, -and should pass on instead to the free grasp of itself which, in the -conditions above described, is only incompletely the case. On the -other, it is necessary that it should expand in a world abundant in -ideas, passions, varied conditions, and conflicts, in order to endow -with ideal expression everything that the human heart is essentially -able to apprehend, and then communicate as the birth of its own spirit. -For the collective wealth of lyrical poetry should express in poetic -form all that the inner life comprises, so far as the same can pass -into poetry, and therefore finds itself at home alike in all phases of -spiritual culture. - -(_ββ_) And, _secondly_, with the advent of a free self-consciousness -is bound up the freedom of an assured _art_ of its own. The folk-song -sings forth, just as any natural song, straight from the heart. A free -art, however, is aware of itself; it requires a knowledge and desire of -that which it produces; and requires culture to promote this knowledge, -as also an executive power, which is expert in the finest composition. -When, consequently, genuine epic poetry has to conceal the individual -creative power of the poet, or rather it lies with the entire character -of the age of its origin that such should not yet be visible, this -result is merely because of the fact that the Epos deals with the -nation's positive existence rather than that which issues from the -personal life of the poet himself, and that it is not present in poetry -in such a close personal relation, but rather appears as a self-evolved -product essentially independent. In lyrical poetry, on the contrary, -the creative activity no less than the content are inseparable from the -inner life, and are bound to declare themselves as such in actual fact. - -(_γγ_) In this respect, later forms of lyric art are expressly -distinguishable from the folk-song. There are, no doubt, folk-songs -which originate contemporaneously with the works of a genuine lyrical -_art._ These latter, however, belong to a range and type of individuals -such as--far from participating in more modern stages of artistic -culture--are, in the entire nature of their general outlook, not yet -liberated from the immediate popular sense. We must, however, not -regard this distinction between the Lyric of the folk-song and the -artistic poem as though it was only when reflection and the artistic -consciousness, in union with deliberate executive ability, appear -with all the elegance of such a union, that the Lyric attains to its -perfection. Such a notion would really amount to this--that a Horace, -for instance, and the Roman lyric poets generally, were to be reckoned -among the finest writers of this type, or even in their own range -that the Master Singers were preferable to the preceding epoch of -the genuine Minnesong. Such an extreme deduction from our previous -statement is not justified. What we ought to conclude is this, that -individual imagination and art directed to the service of this very -self-consistent personal life, which in fact constitutes its principle, -presupposes also, for the basis of their true perfection, a free and -self-trained recognition of imaginative idea no less than artistic -activity. - -(_γ_) We have our _final_ phase of composition to distinguish from -those already discussed. The folk-song appears before the true -elaboration of a prosaically organized condition of actual conscious -life. Lyric poetry of the truly artistic type, on the other hand, -wrests itself away from the prosaic coordination which surrounds it, -and creates from the poet's imagination, in its acquired independence, -a new poetic world of inward observation and emotion, by means of -which, for the first time, the true content and type of expression -truly adequate to the human soul, as seen from within, becomes the -object of vital art. There is, however, over and above this, a form of -intelligence which, from this point of view, stands in a more exalted -position than the imagination of the emotional or conceptive life, -inasmuch as it is able, with more penetrative universality and more -necessary coalescence to bring its content before our free cognition -than is ever possible to art. This is _philosophical thought._ -Conversely, however, this form is attached to the abstract condition of -being exclusively evolved in the medium of thought, posited as wholly -ideal universality; and, in consequence, the concrete man may find -himself also constrained to express the content and the results of his -philosophical consciousness in a concrete way, that is, as permeated by -his temperament and sensuous perception, his imagination and feeling, -in order thereby to possess and exhaust the absolute expression of all -that engages either soul or intellect. - -From such a standpoint we may distinguish between two principal types -of conceptive activity. It may, in short, either be the imagination -which, straining beyond its own domain, struggles with the movement -of pure thinking, without successfully attaining the clarity and -secured exactness of philosophical exposition. In this case the Lyric -is for the most part the ebullition of a soul engaged in strife and -contention, which in its fermentation does violence both to art and -abstract thought. It transgresses one province without the ability to -make itself at home in another. Or we may find that it is rather the -tranquil movement of philosophical thought in its essential medium, -which may seek to animate its clearly grasped and systematically -developed thoughts with emotion, to make them perceptible to sensuous -apprehension, and to exchange the explicit scientific process and -sequence in its causal necessity for that free play of particular -aspects, beneath the apparently loose connection of which art is -the more compelled to conceal their ideal bonds of association in -proportion as it is disinclined to narrow itself to the jejune style of -purely didactic exposition. As an illustration of this latter tendency, -we may point to many of Schiller's poems. - - - - -2. PARTICULAR ASPECTS OF LYRICAL POETRY - - -Having thus considered the general character of the content of lyric -poetry, and the mode of its expression, as also the varied grades -of culture which are more or less consonant with its fundamental -principle, it will be our further task to examine these general points -of view more nearly in the _detail_ of their more important features -and relations. - -Here, too, I ought at starting once again to emphasize the distinction -which obtains between epic and lyrical poetry. In our consideration -of the former we directed our attention above all to the primitive -national Epos, and merely referred incidentally to the inadequate -collateral branches, as also to the poet in his creative capacity. -This we are unable to do in the case of the type under discussion. On -the contrary, we shall find that subjects of the greatest importance -invite our review as respects the individual creative power; and, -on the other hand, in respect to the classification of the several -types in which lyrical poetry, whose general principle it is to -disintegrate and isolate the content and its configurations, is -respectively differentiated. We may define the subsequent course of our -investigation as follows: - -_First,_ our attention will be directed to the lyrical poet himself. - -_Secondly_, we propose to examine the lyrical work of art as the -creation of the individual poet's imagination. - -_Thirdly_, we shall classify the types which are deducible from the -general notion of lyrical composition. - -(_a_) _The Lyric Poet_ - -(_α_) Now the content of the Lyric embraces, as we have seen, first, -a type of contemplation, which connects the universal quality of -determinate being with its conditions, and, secondly, the manifold -character of its detailed aspects. Regarded, however, as pure -generalizations and particular points of view of emotional condition -these constituents, both of them, are nothing more than abstractions. -In order that these may acquire a vital lyrical individuality, a -principle of combination is necessary which can only be of an ideal, in -other words really personal[7] character. Consequently the creatively -concrete person, the _poet_ himself, must be further presupposed as the -focus and in fact realized content of lyrical poetry. He must be there, -however, in a form which is not carried to the point of definitive act -and deed, or to that of the evolved movement of dramatic conflicts. His -exclusive expression and activity is on the contrary restricted to the -fact that he endows his inner experience with an articulate speech such -as portrays the spiritual significance of himself as subject in his -self-expression, whatever the material selected may be, and endeavours -to arouse in and keep the hearer alive to the like meaning and spirit, -the same soul-state, the similar course of reflection. - -(_β_) But, furthermore, the expression cannot rest alone in this -result, however successful, in so far as it is for others a free -overflooding of buoyant delight, or the resolution and reconciliation -of grief in song and lyric, or the yet profounder impulse, which issues -in the most serious emotions of heart and the most far-reaching views -of intelligence. The man who sings and can write poetry has a necessary -vocation thereto. He composes because he _cannot do otherwise._ At -the same time the external incentive, the direct invitation and the -like are by no means excluded. The great lyric poet, however, in such -a case soon swerves aside from such an external stimulus. His supreme -object is himself. To take the example once more to which we have -constantly recurred, Pindar was frequently invited to celebrate this -or that laurel-crowned victor, nay, he frequently accepted payment -therefor; and yet, for all that, it is he himself, the minstrel, who -changes places with his hero. He combines freely his own unfettered -imagination with his praise of the exploits of ancestors, or it maybe -his memory of myths; or, when he gives voice to his profound views -of life, of wealth, of mastery, of all that is great and deserving, -of the supremacy and loveliness of the Muses, and above all of the -high vocation of the singer. It is not so much the hero in the renown -that he spreads far and wide, that he honours in his poems. We are -invited to listen to him, the poet. The honour is not to him in that he -celebrates the victor, but rather to the victor that he is celebrated -by Pindar. And it is this emphatic personal sense of greatness which -constitutes the nobility of the lyric poet. Homer, as an individual -person, is in his Epos so entirely sacrificed that people nowadays -are loth to admit that he ever existed at all. His heroes live on for -ever. Pindar's heroes are for us little better than empty names. He -himself, however, the self-celebrated and self-honoured, remains before -us immortal as the poet. The fame which his heroes claim is merely an -appanage to that of the lyric singer. Even among the Romans the lyric -poet to some extent aspires to such an independent position. Suetonius -tells us, for instance, that Augustus wrote these works to Horace; _an -vereris, ne apud posteros tibi infame sit, quod videaris familiaris -nobis esse._ Horace, however, with the exception of those times, easily -demonstrable, where he writes in an _ex officio_ manner of Augustus, -betrays for the most part a precisely similar proud self-consciousness. -His fourteenth ode of the third book, for example, opens with a -reference to the return of Augustus from Spain after his victory over -the Cantabrians. But the poet goes on to celebrate the fact, that on -account of the tranquillity, which the emperor has given the world, he -himself as poet is able quietly to enjoy his easy-going leisure and his -muse; he calls for garlands, unguents, and venerable wine to celebrate -the occasion, and invites in all haste his mistress--in a word, he is -simply preoccupied with the arrangements for his own banquet. We hear, -however, at this time less of his love difficulties than in his youth, -when Plaucus was consul, an occasion where he expressly says to the -messenger he despatches: - - - _Si per invisum mora janitorem_ - _Fiet, abito_. - - -We may regard it as an even more honourable trait of Klopstock, that he -felt in his day the independent worth of the singer, and by his free -expression of this and his regulation of his behaviour consonantly -thereto, disengaged the poet from his subservience to a court and any -or every patron,[8] as also from a tedious and useless toying with -trifles, which is the ruin of a man. However, the fact remains that -it was no other than this very Klopstock whom, in the first instance, -the bookseller regarded as his poet. It was Klopstock's publisher in -Halle who paid him one or two thaler, it appears, for the manuscript -of his Messias, adding over and above this, however, an order for a -waistcoat and breeches, and introduced him thus set up into society, -letting it clearly be seen from the nature of such a get up that -he was responsible therefor. In some contrast to this, so at least -we are informed at a later date on evidence, however, that is not -irreproachable,[9] the Athenians erected a statue to Pindar, because -he had celebrated them in one of his poems, and sent him, moreover, -twice the amount of the fine[10] the Thebans refused to exempt him from -on account of the inordinate praise he had lavished on an alien city. -Indeed we have the statement that Apollo himself declared through the -mouth of the Pythian prophetess that Pindar was worthy of receiving -half of all the gifts which the whole of Hellas, as in custom bound, -brought to the Pythian games. - -(_γ_) Throughout the entire compass of lyric poetry the synthetic unity -of a single personality asserts its presence in virtue of its poetic -soul-movement. The lyric poet is, in fact, moved to express everything -that assumes a poetic form either in his emotional or intelligent -life in the song. In this type of composition Goethe is pre-eminently -noteworthy, who in all the variety of his full life was thus -continuously creative. He was unquestionably in this respect a quite -exceptional model. It is rarely that we find an artistic personality, -who, while retaining as Goethe's did, an interest so active on all -sides and is able to live a life, despite all such self-expansion, so -entirely self-possessed, so ready to transmute everything it touches -into the poetic vision. His life in its public relations, the peculiar -nature of his heart, which rather impressed with its reserve than -the ease of its approach, the indefatigable effort of his scientific -pursuits and enquiry, the general conclusions of his trained and -practical experience, his ethical maxims, the impressions, which the -varied and conflicting facts of his times made upon him, the inferences -he deduced from such, the effervescent joy of life and courage of his -youth, the well-organized force and ideal beauty of his manhood, the -comprehensive genial wisdom of his old age--all this passed into the -magic crucible of his lyrics, where the most delicate play of emotion, -no less than the most severe and painful conflicts of spirit, alike -find their expression and by this means their deliverance. - -(_b_) _The Lyric Work of Art_ - -_Secondly_, in respect to the lyric poem as a poetic work of art, we -are no doubt in general not able to advance much. The fortuitous -character of the abundance of its many modes of expression, and -the forms of its equally varied and incalculable content make this -inevitable. The peculiarly personal nature of this class of work, -however much the same is imperatively subject to the general principles -of beauty and art, none the less brings with it the necessary -result, that the range of the formal and melodious possibilities of -its exposition admit of no theoretic definition. For our purpose, -therefore, the only question of importance is the nature of the -distinction of artistic type that obtains between the lyric and the -epic product. - -Upon this I will briefly draw attention to the following points of -importance: - -_First_, the unity of the lyric composition. - -_Secondly,_ the nature of its progressive disclosure. - -_Thirdly_, the external aspect of its verse-measure and general -exhibition. - -(_α_) The importance, which the Epos possesses for art lies, as already -observed, and pre-eminently so, in the case of the primitive Epopaea, -in the consummate elaboration of the perfected artistic form, which as -from the repository of the full embrace of the national spirit, places -before our vision one and the same composition in all the wealth of a -completely evolved content. - -(_αα_) The true lyric work of art will not undertake to present thus -before us a synthesized whole of such extension. The principle of -personality can no doubt proceed to a comprehension of subject-matter -of universal pretensions. To be able truly to enforce itself, however, -in its individual independence, it necessarily implies the collateral -principle of disintegration and isolation. At the same time a variety -of truth, phenomenal or ideal, derived from natural environment, -the memory of one's own or another's experience, from mythical and -historical events, and the like, is not therefore excluded: but such -an extension of view must not be permitted, as with the Epos, on the -ground that it belongs to the unified _complexus_ of a given sphere -of reality, but is rather solely justifiable for the reason that it -springs to renewed life in the memory of the poet, and in his impulse -and gift of vivid association. - -(_ββ_) We must consequently regard the intimate personal life as the -true integrating principle of the lyric poem. This inward life, taken -simply, is in part the wholly formal unity of the self-conscious -self; in part also it is split up and dispersed in the most varied -particularity, and the most diverse content of ideas, feelings, -impressions, and perceptions, whose power of combination is solely due -to the fact that it is one and the selfsame personal identity which -serves essentially as their vehicle. In order therefore that this -selfidentical subject may form the focal centre of the work of art, -it must, on the one hand, have reached the point where the mood or -situation is _defined_ in its _concreteness_, and on the other it must -_affiliate_ itself with this isolation of its own possessions as with -itself to the extent that it feels and pictures itself in the same. -It is only by this means that it becomes an essentially defined whole -of such a personal character, and exclusively expresses that which is -emphasized by reason of such definition, and is yet coalescent with it. - -(_γγ_) Lyrical in the most pertinent sense is in this connection the -emotional mood or colour as concentrated in a concrete condition, -inasmuch as the sensitive heart is that which is the most vital and -personal factor of the subjective lips. Reflection and a contemplation -which is mainly absorbed in generalization very readily tend to the -didactic, or are likely to assert what is substantive and positive in -the content under an epic mode. - -(_β_) With respect to our _second_ point, viz., the progressive -disclosure of the lyric subject-matter, speaking generally, exact -definition is here too out of the question. I shall, therefore, -restrict myself to a few searching observations. - -(_αα_) The progressive exposition of the Epos is of a dilatory -description, and it expands throughout in the display of an actual -world of diversified character. In the Epos the poet projects himself -into the _objective_ world, which is set before us in the independent -form and movement of its own reality. In contrast thereto it is the -emotions and reflection which in the lyric composition absorb the -given world into themselves, animate the same within this ideal -element, and, only after it is itself converted into a constituent -of this personal life, give form and expression to it in language. In -contrast to the epic principle of extension we have therefore in the -Lyric that of _assimilation_,[11] and have above all to seek for our -effect by means of the implied ideal depth of expression rather than -the diffuseness of descriptive or explanatory detail. None the less, -however, between the extremes of an almost speechless conciseness and -the idea worked out into absolute lucidity of speech every conceivable -sort of nuance and degree of clarity is still possible. To as little -extent is it necessary that a ban be placed on all reflection of -external objects. On the contrary genuinely concrete lyric compositions -disclose the individual in his external conditions; they accept, -therefore, as an essential feature of their content, natural and -local environment. In fact there are poems entirely limited to such -descriptions. In such cases, however, it is not so much the reality -in its objective presence and its plastic presentment, as the accord -with which such objects affect the soul, the mood excited by them, -the feelings of the heart under such positive conditions, which are, -in fact, the lyric result. It is in short not this or that object as -presented to our eyes, in its several features, which ought mainly -to impress our inward vision, but the emotional forces which are -made vital in the same, and which have for their aim a similar state -of feeling and contemplation in ourselves. Romances and ballads are -perhaps the most obvious illustration of this, which, as I have -previously maintained, approach the lyrical type in proportion as they -exclusively emphasize those characteristics of a given event which are -consistent with the state of the inner life, in which the poet writes, -and disclose the course of his narrative in such a way, that we receive -a distinct and life-like echo back again of this personal temper. -For such reasons all out and out reproduction of material objects, -even though stamped with considerable emotion, nay, even the diffuse -characterization of emotional states, can only be of subordinate effect -in lyrical effort, if compared with concise concentration of effect and -the vivid and significant expression. - -(_ββ_) We may add that _episodes_ are permissible as well to the lyric -poet; but he ought to employ them on other grounds than those which -justify their epic use. In the latter case they are implied in the -notion of the externally independent collocation of the different -aspects contained; and, in respect to the advance of the epic action, -they also are significant as points of retardation and hindrance. -Their lyrical justification is rather subjective in its character. The -living personality in short surveys his private world more rapidly; -his memory recurs to the most varied subjects on equally various -occasions; he combines material of the most divergent nature; and, -without departing from his true and fundamental emotional state, or the -object of his thought, gives free play on all sides to his imagination -and contemplation. An animating spirit of the same kind pervades the -inner poetical life, although for the most part it is impossible to say -whether this or that feature in a lyric poem is to be understood as -episodical or not. As a general rule, however, digressions, so long as -they do not violate the unity, and above all unexpected changes, witty -combinations and sudden, or even violent transitions are peculiarly -appropriate to the Lyric. - -(_γγ_) On account of this the nature of the forward movement and bond -of connection in this domain of poetry may be various, and in some -measure marked by excessive contrast. Generally no doubt the Lyric, -quite as little as the Epos, adopts the caprices of ordinary conscious -life, or the purely scientific consequences, or the speculative process -of philosophical thought in its necessary development. It requires -indeed a freedom and self-subsistency in its single features. But -whereas, in the case of the Epos, this relative isolation is referable -to the form of the phenomenal reality, in the type of which its -realization is centered, the lyric poet, on the contrary, communicates -to the particular emotions and ideas, in which he is himself expressed, -the character of a free self-assertion. Each and all, although equally -distrained from similar modes of feeling and observation, nevertheless, -as viewed separately, absorb his spirit, which remains concentrated -upon each severally, until it is diverted to other points of view or -other emotional states. The movement of the whole may therefore have -little to arrest its tranquil flow, but with equal right we may find it -pass without any mediation, and in one bound to material of a totally -different character. The poet, instead of following the logical -current of his thought, becomes, it would seem, in this sudden flight -of ecstatic intoxication mastered by a force, the pathos of which rules -and carries him away in spite of himself. The impulse and conflict of -such passionate intensity is so characteristic a feature of certain -forms of lyric composition, that, for example, Horace in many of his -poems is at pains to harmonize with deliberate artistic means such -apparently dislocating breaks in the poem's connection. For the rest I -must entirely pass over the various intermediate phases of treatment, -which fall between the extremes of the most lucid connection and most -even flow on the one side, and that of the unrestrained impetuosity of -passion and enthusiasm on the other. - -(_γ_) _Finally_, of our above three divisions of the immediate subject, -we have left us to discuss the _external form_ and actual presentment -of the lyric composition. Above all we shall have to deal with _metre_ -and the _musical accompaniment._ - -(_αα_) It is obvious enough that the hexameter in its even, sustained -and none the less life-like forward movement is most exceptionally -fitted as the measure of the Epic. The demand of the Lyric is rather -for an extreme _variety_ of metres with every kind of co-ordination -in their form. The material of the lyric poem in short is not the -object in the form wherein it unveils itself in Nature, but the -movement of the poet's own soul, the regularity or change of which, its -perturbation or repose, its peaceful flow or tumultuous wave and leap, -must find expression in the time-movement of the word-length, in which -such inward life is asserted. The nature of the prevailing mood and the -mode of imaginative conception throughout ought to meet with an echo in -the verse-measure itself. The lyric effusion indeed is placed in a far -more intimate relation to time, regarded as the external medium of its -communication, than the epic narrative, which consigns its phenomenal -facts to the past, and associates or interweaves them under a mode of -extension more analogous to that of spatial condition. The Lyric, in -contrast to this, displays the momentary emergence of emotion and idea -in the temporal juxta-position of their origin and elaboration. It -has therefore to clothe in artistic form the varied temporal movement -itself. To this distinctive character belongs, in the _first_ place, -the more diverse sequence of long and short syllables in a more -strongly emphasized inequality of rhythmical feet; and, _secondly_, the -more varied use of the caesura verse--and _thirdly_ the rounding off of -the strophes, which not only admit of abundant alternation in respect -to the comparative length of particular lines, but also relatively to -the rhythmic configuration of these on their own account and in their -immediate sequence to each other. - -(_ββ_) Yet more lyrical in its effect--a second feature this--is -the musical sound of words and syllables simply. The most important -examples of this are alliteration, rhyme and assonance. In the system -of versification under discussion what is predominant, as I have -already explained in a previous passage, is, on the one hand, the -ideal significance of syllables, the accent of the meaning, which -disjoins itself from the purely natural element, as taken by itself, -of their assured quantity, and then defines under the direction of -the mind their duration, emphasis and subordination; which, from a -further point of view, asserts itself in isolation as the expressly -concentrated sound of definite letters, syllables, and words. The Lyric -is pre-eminently associated with this spiritualizing process effected -by ideal significance, no less than this emphatic insistence of sound. -It in fact not merely restricts its acceptance and expression of all -that positively is or appears to the meaning which such possesses for -the inward life, but also lays hold of sound and musical tone as the -significant medium of its communication. No doubt in this sphere, too, -the element of rhythm may associate with rhyme; but even here this -is effected in a manner which is closely related to the time-beat of -music. Strictly speaking, therefore, the poetic use of assonance, -alliteration and rhyme is limited to the province of the Lyric. For -although the Epos of the Middle Ages is, in accordance with the nature -of more modern languages, unable to keep itself aloof from these forms, -this is mainly permitted for the reason that here, too, the lyrical -element is throughout more insistently active within the domain of -epic poetry itself, and effects a more forceful entrance where the -subject-matter consists of heroic songs, romances, ballads, tales, -and the like. And we find the same thing in dramatic poetry. What, -however, is the peculiar possession of the Lyric, is the diversified -configuration of rhyme, which is elaborated and perfected by means of -the recurrence of similar or the alternation of different letters, -syllables and verbal quantity in variously organized and alternated -strophes of rhyme. Such differentiation is also of undoubted service -both to epic and dramatic poetry, but only on the same ground that -rhyme itself is not excluded altogether. The Spaniards, for instance, -in the most cultured epoch of their dramatic development, gave the -freest play to such craft in the expression of passion by no means -appropriate to the genuine drama, interweaving octave rhymes, sonnets -and the like with more usual verse-measures. By so doing they at -least testify, in the continuity of such assonances and rhymes, their -predilection for the musical element in language. - -(_γγ_) _Finally_, lyric poetry, to a far more considerable extent -than is possible with the unassisted aid of rhyme, avails itself of -_music_, by means of which the uttered word becomes veritable melody -and song. Such a leaning may, moreover, be completely justified. Or, -in other words, the less lyric subject-matter and content possess on -their own account independence and objective stability, but are rather, -above all, of an ideal character, rooted exclusively in the personal -life, while at the same time an external medium of articulate arrest -is essential, to that extent is the demand for a decisive medium of -communication more insistent. Precisely for the reason that it remains -of ideal intention, the means it employs as a stimulus to others must -be the more effective. Such an excitant of our emotional life can only -be music. - -We find consequently, even in respect to external execution, that lyric -poetry is almost invariably associated with musical accompaniment. At -the same time we should note an essential gradation in this power of -combination. The romantic and above all the modern lyric, no doubt more -exceptionally so in such songs, in which the temper, the emotional mood -is predominant, and the function of music is to emphasize and expand -this inner beat of soul-life in actual melody--are no doubt most -readily adapted to such melodic fusion. The folk-song is an obvious -example which both delights in and demands a musical accompaniment. We -shall find in modern times more rarely a composer for the canzonet, -elegy, epistle, or even the sonnet. The reason of this is that in -cases where idea, reflection, nay, even emotion are made completely -explicit in the poetry, and increasingly liberated from the bare point -of spiritual selfconcentration, and, further, from the sensuous medium -of the art, the Lyric already secures, in its deliverance as speech, -a greater self-stability, and lends itself less simply to a free -association with the vague definition of music. On the other hand in -proportion as the inner life expressed is not made explicit to that -extent the aid of melody is required. How it came about, however, that -the ancients, despite the pellucid clarity of their diction, availed -themselves of music in its actual delivery, and the measure in which -they did thus make use of it, I shall have occasion to deal with -subsequently. - -(_c_) _Types of the Genuine Lyric_ - -With regard to specific types, in which we may classify lyrical -composition, I have already referred with more detail to some which -form the transition step from the narrative form of the Epos to the -more subjective mode of exposition. From a contrary point of view it -might seem desirable in the same way to demonstrate the beginnings of -the dramatic. This inclination, however, of passage to the animation -of the drama is exclusively and in essentials restricted to the -circumstance that the lyric poem too as conversation, without, however, -carrying the movement of action to the point of actual conflict, may -itself accept the external form of dialogue. We shall nevertheless omit -further allusion to these intermediate and hybrid stages, and restrict -our cursory examination to those forms in which the real principle of -the Lyric fully asserts itself. The main cause of this distinction is -to be found in the attitude, which the artistic consciousness assumes -relatively to its object. - -(_α_) To be more definite the poet--this at least is one -direction--annuls the particularity of his emotion and idea, and is -absorbed in the general contemplation of God or gods, whose greatness -and might permeates the whole of the personal life, and causes the poet -as an individual person to vanish. Hymns, dithyrambs, paeans, psalms, -all belong to this class, which are moreover quite differently treated -by different peoples. I propose merely to draw general attention to the -following characteristic of such poetry. - -(_αα_) The poet, who is raised above the narrow limitation of his own -purely personal life and external conditions, or the ideas which are -therewith associated, replacing these with that which appears to him -and his people as absolute and divine, may, in the _first_ instance, -completely depict the divine in an objective presentment, and set -forth this, as thus projected and executed for the spiritual vision of -others, to the honour and power of the glorified god. The hymns which -are ascribed to Homer are of this character. They contain above all -mythological situations and histories of the divine Being, in whose -celebration they are composed, which are not merely conceived in the -ideas of symbolism, but are clothed in the downright objectivity of the -Epos. - -(_ββ_) In contrast to this, _secondly_, the dithyrambic impulse, in -its more _personal_ aspect of an exalted divine service--overwhelmed, -as it is, by the power of its object, shattered and stunned to its -soul-foundations--cannot, by reason of the general diffusion of its -emotional state, go so far as to present an objective image and form. -It is more akin to the lyrical absorbtion. We have here simply ecstatic -rapture of soul. The singer breaks out and forth from himself; he is -so exalted directly into the Absolute, steeped in the being and might -of whom he exultantly sings his praise of the Infinite, into the depth -whereof he plunges, or that of the natural world, in whose splendour -the profound wealth of the Godhead is declared. - -The Greeks, in the solemnities of their worship, have not limited -themselves for long to such mere outcries and appeals. They have -sought to intermingle with such ecstasies the narrative of, definite -mythical situations and actions. Such expositions interposed between -the effusion of lyric poetry, became gradually of most importance, and -created the drama, such narratives being asserted as action in its -lifelike form, and independently on its own account, a drama, which -again in its turn received as a constituent feature the lyrics of its -choruses. - -Even more searching in its utterance is this impulse of exultation, -this adoration, jubel and outcry of soul to the One, wherein the -individual discovers the end of conscious life and the true object of -all might and truth, no less than glory and praise, as we meet it in -many of the sublime psalms of the Old Testament. Take the words of the -thirty-third psalm, for example: - - - "Rejoice in the Lord, O ye righteous, for praise is comely - for the upright. - - "Praise the Lord with harp: sing unto him with psaltery and - an instrument of ten strings. - - "Sing unto him a new song; play skilfully with a loud noise. - - "For the word of the Lord is right; and all his works are - done in truth. - - "He loveth righteousness and judgment: the earth is full of - the goodness of the Lord. - - "By the word of the Lord were the heavens made; and all the - host of them by the breath of his mouth."[12] - - Or take the twenty-ninth psalm: "Give unto the Lord, O ye - mighty, give unto the Lord glory and strength. - - "Give unto the Lord the honour due unto his name: worship - the Lord in the beauty of holiness. - - "The voice of the Lord is upon the waters: the God of glory - thundereth: the Lord is upon great waters. - - "The voice of the Lord is powerful, the voice of the Lord is - full of majesty. - - "The voice of the Lord breaketh the cedars; yea, the Lord - breaketh the cedars of Lebanon. - - "He maketh them to skip like a calf; Lebanon and Sirion like - a young unicorn. - - "The voice of the Lord divideth the flames of fire. - - "The voice of the Lord shaketh the wilderness; the Lord - shaketh the wilderness of Kadesh," etc. - - -An exaltation and lyric sublimity such as the above contain a power -of personal detachment,[13] and is consequently less adapted to -self-absorbtion in the concrete content, wherein the imagination can -lay hold of the fact in tranquil satisfaction. It is rather inclined -to soar up in an indefinite enthusiasm, which strains to make present -to feeling and perception what is unutterable for the intelligence. -In this atmosphere of indeterminacy the individual soul is unable to -envisage its unreachable object in quiescent beauty, or enjoy its -self-expression in a work of art. Instead of a tranquil picture the -imagination sets forth external phenomena without co-ordination and in -fragments; and, inasmuch as it does not succeed with emotional effort -in any consistent articulation of its separate ideas, in its positive -artistic form, too, it employs a somewhat arbitrary and insurgent -rhythm. - -The _prophets_, who oppose the mass of the community, partly in the -fundamental tones of grief and lamentation over the condition of their -people, partly, too, in this feeling of alienation and decadence, carry -to yet a further extreme this type of paranetic lyric in the sublime -flame of their emotion and political indignation. - -In a more modern age of imitation this sublime passion, however, is -exchanged for a more artificial warmth, which easily cools and becomes -abstract. Thus, for example, we have much hymn and psalm-writing of -Klopstock, which possesses neither depth of thought, nor the tranquil -development of any religious content whatever. What is expressed -is, above all, an effort of this exaltation to the Infinite, which, -agreeably with modern scientific ideas, merely discloses the empty -incommeasurability and inconceivable might, greatness, and splendour of -God, in its contrast to the very intelligible impotence and finitude of -the poet. - -(_β_) From a second point of view, we have those types of lyric poetry -which may be described generally as odes, in the more modern meaning of -the term. In these, as distinguished from the type above described, it -is the _personal life_ of the poet, in its independence, which asserts -itself as a fundamental feature. It is, indeed, the culmination, which -may be enforced in a twofold manner. - -(_αα_) From one point of view the poet may, within this new mode of -expression, select, as he previously did, a subjective matter itself -of essential importance, such as the glory and celebration of gods, -heroes, princes, love, beauty, art, friendship, and the like, while he -displays his inner life as so completely steeped and carried away by -this content and its concreteness, that it appears as though, in this -impulse of enthusiasm, the subject has wholly mastered his soul, and is -present in it now, as the one predominant power. If this was entirely -so the facts which master him might secure, in their independence, the -plastic form, motion, and stability of an epic sculpturesque image. - -Or, as a converse case, it is just the personal life of the poet -himself and its greatness which he seeks to express and make real on -its own account. As for the object itself, it is that whereof he makes -himself master; he assimilates this in his own life, expresses himself -in and through this. By so doing he freely and without reserve breaks -up the more positive course of his subject with his own emotion or -reflection; he illuminates it from within; he changes it; and the final -result is that it is not so much the subject, but rather the _personal -enthusiasm_ in which it has steeped him, which is most effective. In -this connection, however, we have two distinct aspects to consider. -First, there is the compelling force of the subject-matter; secondly, -we have that independent freedom of the poet which flashes into view -in its conflict with that which would otherwise master it. It is above -all the stress of this opposition, which renders inevitable the swing -and the boldness of utterance and image, the apparent absence of order -in the ideal construction and course of the poem, its digressions, -_lacunae_, and sudden transitions, and which preserves the ideal -elevation of the poet, by means of the mastery with which he is -enabled, through the artistic perfection of his work, to overcome this -disunion, and to produce an' essentially harmonious whole, which places -him, as _his_ work, in relief above the greatness of his subject. - -It is to such a type of lyric enthusiasm that many of the Pindaric odes -are referable, whose triumphant, albeit personal glory is disclosed -in a mode of rhythm equally conspicuous for its varied movement, -and yet for all that stringently regulated measure. Horace, on the -contrary, more especially where he aims most at self-assertion, is -rather lacking in warmth and insipid. We detect here an imitative -artificiality, which vainly endeavours to conceal the purely technical -preciosity of his composition. The enthusiasm of Klopstock in the same -way is never entirely genuine. It too frequently gives the impression -of laboured artifice, despite the fact that many of his odes are rich -in true and genuine emotion, and stamped with an engaging masculine -worth and force of expression. - -(_ββ_) From another point of view, however, it is not at all necessary -that the content itself should be substantial or important. The poet -is himself, in his own personality, of such weight that he can attach -to even the more trifling objects worth, nobility, or at least in a -general way a more exalted interest owing to the fact that they are -embodied in his poetic work. Many of the Odes of Horace are of this -type. Klopstock, too, with many another, may be included in such a -category. In such cases it is not the importance of the material -itself, which engages the poet's effort, but on the contrary that of -the process in virtue of which he exalts what is on its own account -insignificant, either in external facts or petty occurrences, to the -height of the emotion and idea they excite in himself. - -(_γ_) In conclusion, the entire infinite multiplicity of lyrical -mood and reflection reaches its fullest compass in the sphere of the -_song_, in which consequently differences of national custom and -creative individuality have their freest play. Characteristics of every -extreme of diversity meet together here, and the task of adequate -classification is beset with difficulty. We will restrict ourselves to -pointing out a few of the most general character. - -(_αα_) We have, then, _first_, the _genuine song_ intended for singing -or purely musical practice,[14] whether in private or before others. -Much intelligible content, ideal greatness and loftiness is not -necessary. On the contrary, worth, nobility, weight of thought can only -prove an obstacle to the desire of direct self-expression. Imposing -ideas or reflections, or sublime emotions compel the artist to detach -himself from his immediate personality and its interests. And yet it -is precisely this immediacy of joy and sorrow, what we may call the -unrestricted and momentary personal experience, which ought to find its -expression in the song. And it is on this account that every folk is in -a peculiar way at home and at ease in its songs. Despite the unlimited -variety of content and of melodic exposition that offers itself -here, every song is without exception distinct from types previously -considered by virtue of the simplicity of its subject-matter, movement, -metre, verbal expression, and images. The point of departure is direct -from the soul; the movement of inspiration is not so much from one -object to another, but is, generally speaking, centered exclusively in -one and the same content, whether it be a single emotional state, or -any definite expression of delight or sorrow, that mood, in short, the -effect of which carries the heart with it. In this emotion or temper -the song persists with no interruption in its flight and impression, -quietly and simply abiding therein without any strikingly bold contrast -or transitions of idea; and it creates thereby in the even flow of its -images this one perfected whole, sometimes without any interruption -or disunion, at others in a more expansive and consequential survey, -employing therewith rhythms adapted to song or the recurrence of rhymes -easily intelligible and without any considerable complexity. Inasmuch, -however, as it possesses for the most part as its content what is -essentially transitory we are not to suppose that a nation is likely to -sing the same songs over and over again, for a hundred or a thousand -years. A people which can at all claim progressive development is -neither so poor nor so so barren as only to possess poets of the song -at one period of its life. It is just the poetry of the song, which, in -contrast to the Epopaea, does not so much die as it is forever being -awakened anew. This field of blossom starts up afresh every spring; and -it is only in the case of oppressed peoples, peoples precluded from -every advance, which are unable to experience the ever requickened -delight in poetic composition, that the old and the oldest songs are -retained. The particular song, just like the particular mood, arises, -and then passes; it animates, delights, and is forgotten. Whoever knows -or sings, for example, the songs which fifty years ago were everywhere -known and beloved? Every century strikes its own particular keynote; -the previous one sounds out of tune, until it stops altogether. None -the less, however, must every song possess not so much a revelation -of the personality of the singer as a certain community of sentiment, -which meets with response from all sides; which excites in others a -like emotion and so, too, passes from mouth to mouth. Songs which are -not generally current as such in their time are seldom of the genuine -stamp. As an essential distinction in the composition of song I will -merely emphasize two main aspects which I have already referred to. -On the one hand the poet may express his inner life in its emotions -quite openly and without reserve, more especially the feelings and -state of joyfulness, and so that he communicates completely all that -he experiences. On the other hand, and in extreme contrast to this, -he may only suffer us to surmise through his very speechlessness, -what is brought to a focus in the unopened chamber of his heart. The -first type belongs mainly to the East, and more especially to the -careless hilarity and contented expansiveness of Mohammedan poetry, -the splendid outlook of which loves to dilate itself hither and -thither in all the breadth of sensuous perception and witty conceit. -The second type, on the contrary, applies with more force to our -Northern self-concentration and intimacy of soul-life, which in its -compressed tranquillity is often only able to seize hold of objects -which are wholly external and to put suggestions in _them,_ while the -essentially suppressed spirit is unable to express itself or find a -bent, but rather, like the child with whom that father in the Erl King -rides through the night and the wind, dies away with its glow on the -wick. The distinction above noticed applies also in a broader sense -to other forms of lyrical composition such as the folk-song and more -elaborate poetry; it recurs again in the simple song with many shades -and intermediate links in its variety. With regard to particular forms -applicable to this class of composition I will restrict myself to the -following examples. - -We may mention, to start with, the _folk-song_, which, on account -of its direct appeal, is mainly of the nature of the simple song, -being also generally adapted to singing, or, rather, requiring the -musical accompaniment. Its subject-matter is in part national exploit -and event, in which the nation is emotionally made aware of and -recalls again its most essential life; in part, too, feelings and -situations are directly expressed which relate to particular classes. -It associates, in short, civic life with its natural condition and its -closest human relations, and it does so with every variety of note, -whether of exultation or sorrow, which may duly harmonize with such. -In contrast to the above, we have, secondly, songs of a more various -and enriched culture, a culture which finds its entertainment in the -companionable amusement of all kinds of pleasantry, graceful turns -of phrase, casual occurrences, or polite modes of address, or, with -more intensity of feeling, recurs to the pathos or necessities of less -favoured conditions of life, describing therein both the facts and the -consequent feelings they excite, the poet always making his appeal -from his own breast and the facts of his own sympathetic experience. -If such songs go no further than the bare narrative, more particularly -of natural phenomena, the result is likely to be trivial and to betray -the lack of imaginative resources. The bare description of emotional -states, moreover, not unfrequently fares little better. The truth is -that our poet in such descriptions, whether of objective facts or -emotions, must not restrict his survey to the narrow outlook of direct -wishes and desires, but must already in the freedom of his intelligence -have raised himself into a more serene atmosphere wherein the main -thing of importance to himself is the satisfaction which the exercise -of his imagination has afforded. An undisturbed sense of freedom such -as this, through expansion of heart and delight in conceptive idea on -its own account, confers on many songs of Anacreon, as also certain -poems of Hafis and the Westöstliche Divan of Goethe the rarest charm of -an unfettered creative gift. - -There is a yet further type of composition of this general class, -to which we must concede a more exalted or, at least, a more widely -embracing content. The large majority of Protestant hymns composed for -spiritual edification are essentially songs. They express the yearning -after God, the plea for His grace, repentance, hope, trust, doubts, -faith, and the like of the religious heart; no doubt, in the first -instance, to meet the importunity of the individual soul, but at the -same time in a manner of general significance, wherein such feelings -and states of soul may or ought to apply, to a greater or less extent, -to every member of the Christian Church. - -(_ββ_) We may further return to another division of this class, the -_sonnet, sestine, elegy, epistle_, and a few other such modes. These -latter assert themselves as distinct from the ordinary sphere of -song previously discussed. The immediacy of feeling and expression -is emphasized in this class as a mediating bond with reflection, -and a contemplation which, while remaining alert to many features -of its subject, conceives the particular detail of perception and -soul-experience under more general points of view. Science, learning, -and, in short, a wide culture may be here effective; and if also in all -the relations thus established the personal life, which connects and -mediates in itself the particular fact with the general concept, is -and remains the insistent and predominant factor, yet the standpoint -presupposed is of a wider and more universal import than that of the -ordinary song. The Italians in particular have given us splendid -examples of a highly sensitive type of feeling and reflection in -their sonnets and sestines. Such not only directly expresses in a -given situation states of yearning, grief, longing, and the like, -or the counterfeit of external objects, with a peculiarly intimate -concentration, but includes many a diversion, many a shrewd glance -into mythology and history, whether past or present, while remaining -throughout able to return upon itself, true to the fundamental demand -of selfrestriction and concentration. The simplicity of the song is -incompatible with a culture of this kind. The exalted character of -the ode is equally disallowed. As a primary consequence of this the -possibility of actual musical delivery vanishes; but, on the other -hand, as some set-off to the absence of musical accompaniment, the -verbal expression itself, in its sound and composed rhymes, becomes a -melodic flow of speech. The Elegy, moreover, may, in the measure of its -syllables, its meditation, its comments, and the descriptive display of -emotional life, assume the form of the Epic. - -(_γγ_) The _third_ type of composition in this class is characterized -by a mode of treatment which in recent times is most clearly -represented among us Germans in the work of Schiller. The majority of -his lyrical poems, such as those named by him Resignation, the Ideals, -the realm of Shades, Artists, the Ideal and Life, are just as little -songs in the true sense as they are odes or hymns, epistles, or elegies -in the classic sense. Their position, on the contrary, is distinct -from all these types. Their significance consists above all in the -imposing fundamental thought of their content by the force of which, -however, the poet neither appears to be carried away as a dithyrambic -poet might be, nor in the press of his enthusiasm is there any -appearance of conflict with the greatness of his subject. He remains -rather throughout completely master of the same, and unfolds all -that is therein implied from every point of view with his own poetic -reflection. And he does this in the full impulse of genuine feeling, -no less than with the comprehensive breadth of his intelligence, -expressed with a compelling force in the most admirable and full-toned -utterance and image, and yet, withal, for the most part in quite -simple, if really arresting rhythms and rhymes. These great thoughts -and fundamental interests, to which his entire life was dedicate, -appear consequently as the most intimate possession of his spirit. But -he does not sing so much as one tranquilly self-absorbed,[15] or to a -circle of companions, as the rich-songed mouth of Goethe was wont to -do, but as a singer who delivers himself of what is on its own account -intrinsically of worth in a storehouse of all that is most excellent -and distinguished. His songs ring out, in fact, much as he says of his -bell: - - - Hoch über'm niedern Erdenleben - Soll sie im blauen Himmelszelt, - Die Nachbarin des Donners, schweben - Und grenzen an die Sternen weit, - Soll eine Stimme seyn von oben, - Wie der Gestirne helle Schaar, - Die ihren Schöpfer wandelnd toben - Und führen das bekränzte Jahr. - Nur ewigen und ernsten Dingen - Sei ihr metall'ner Mund geweiht, - Und stündlich mit den schnellen Schwingen - Berühr' im Fluge sie die Zeit.[16] - - - - - -3. HISTORICAL EVOLUTION OF THE LYRIC. - - -It will already have sufficiently appeared from what I have pointed -out in relation to the general character, as also the more detailed -features discussed with reference to the poet, the lyrical composition -and the several types of the art that to a singular degree in this -province of poetry a concrete treatment is only possible which accepts -the historical narrative as a constituent feature. The universal, which -can be set forth in its independence, does not merely remain restricted -in its compass, but is also abstract in its valid worth. And this is -so because in no other art to the like extent does the particularity -of the time, condition, and nationality, no less than the specific -idiosyncracy of individual genius, supply the determinating factor of -the content and form of the artistic product. But in proportion as the -strength of the demand forces itself on our attention that such an -historical exposition should be avoided, I feel myself obliged, in the -interests of the very variety of material comprised in the embrace of -lyric composition, to limit myself exclusively to a very partial survey -of all that I am acquainted of in this particular class of work, and in -which my lively interest could have been extended. - -As the basis of our general classification of the varied national and -more personal lyric compositions, as in the case of epic poetry, we -cannot do better than follow the order of those radical types under -which artistic creation generally is unfolded, and which we now know as -symbolic, classic, and romantic art. As the main division, therefore, -of our present subject-matter, we may, in other words, adopt a similar -sequence from Oriental compositions to the Lyric of the Greeks and -Romans, and then from this to the Slavonic, Romance, and German peoples. - -(_a_) Taking, then, the Oriental lyric first, we may observe that it -differs essentially from the lyrical composition of the West through -its inability to attach to it the independent personality and free -spirit of the poet, or that unity which characterizes every content -of romantic art, its essential infinity, reflecting, in fact, the -potential depth of the romantic soul. Such a distinction is only in -keeping with the universal principle of the East. The individual -conscious life is here, referably to its content, directly absorbed -in the detail of external fact, expressing itself under the condition -and specific relations of this inseparable unity. And, from a further -point of view, it asserts itself, without being able to secure a -firm ground of stability in itself, as opposed to what it conceives -to be of potency and substance in Nature and the conditions of human -existence, which it wrestles to reach whether through emotion or -imagination, at one time situated towards it rather in the relation -of pure opposition, at another with more freedom, but in either case -with ultimate failure. What we find here, therefore, if we confine -our attention to _form_, is not so much the poetic expression of -independent ideas over objects or their connections, as it is the bare -mirror of this unreflecting absorption,[17] wherein the individual -consciousness does not disclose itself in its own self-concentration -as free personality,[18] but rather in its self-annulment[19] before -the external object or condition. Thus regarded, the Oriental lyric -frequently, particularly in its contrast to the romantic, assumes a -more objective tone. Here we shall often enough find that the poet does -not so much express facts and conditions as they affect him, but rather -as they are in themselves, a disclosure which frequently bestows on -them an independent soul of vitality of their own. For illustration we -may take that exclamation of Hafis: - -"Come, O come! The nightingale passeth from the soul of Hafis once -again over the scent of the roses of delight." - -Regarded in another light, the tendency of this lyrical poetry, by -freeing the poet from the limitations of his private individuality, -is to replace this with a kind of primitive expansion of soul, which, -however, very easily loses itself in mere boundlessness, or is merged -in a deliberate effort to express that which it accepts as object but -cannot fully penetrate, because this content is itself the formless -substance. For this reason, speaking generally, the lyric of the East, -more especially among the Hebrews, Arabs, and Persians, possesses the -character of hymns of exaltation. With spendthrift prodigality all -greatness, might, and glory are lavished upon the creature, in order -to make all such transitory splendour vanish before the unspeakable -majesty of God; or, at least, it never is tired of stringing together -in some precious chain everything that is lovable or fair, in order to -present the same as a thankoffering to the object, be it Sultan, the -beloved, or the wine-shop, which the poet has set himself above all -things to celebrate. - -In conclusion, if we look more closely at form of expression in this -type of poetry, we shall find that it is mainly the _metaphor_, the -_image_, and the _simile_ which are favoured. For, in the first -place, on account of the fact that he is not himself wholly free to -express his own personal life, the poet can only disclose himself in -something else, something external to himself, with the aid of life -that can compare with himself. And also we may observe that what is -here universal and substantive remains abstract; that is to say, it is -unable to merge itself in the definite form of a free individuality, so -that now, even on its own account, it is only in comparisons with the -varied phenomena of the world that it is able to envisage itself; and -we may add that both these cases, in the last instance, only possess -the worth of being able to assist some comparable approach to that One -which alone possesses significance, and is worthy of honour and praise. -These metaphors, images, and similes, however, in which the individual -soul, as it asserts itself, is exclusively identified almost to the -point of visibility, are not the actual feeling and spiritual state -itself, but rather a mode of expression which is wholly personal and -of the poet's composition. What, therefore, the lyrical artist here -loses in the concreteness of his spiritual freedom, this we find is -replaced by the freedom of his expression, which moves forward through -all the most manifold phases; that is, from the naïve simplicity of -its images and similes to every conceivable audacity and the acutest -ingenuity of novel and surprising combinations. As regards particular -nations in which we find this Oriental type of lyric represented, we -may mention, first, the Chinese; secondly, the Hindoos; thirdly, and -to a pre-eminent degree, the Hebrews, Arabs, and Persians. I cannot, -however, enter into any closer description of these. - -(_b_) In the case of the second principal division of our present -poetic type, that is in the Lyric of the Greeks and Romans, it is the -principle of _classic_ individuality which, above all, distinguishes -its character. In accordance with this principle, the artistic -consciousness, which seeks for lyrical expression, neither loses itself -in the facts of the natural world, nor exalts itself over itself to -the height of that Sublime outcry to all creation: "Let all that hath -breath praise the Lord!" Nor is it absorbed, after divesting itself -joyfully from all the bonds of finite existence, in that One Being in -which all live and move. Rather the poet here is freely merged in the -Universal, regarded as the very substance of his own spirit; and in -this personal union within himself attains his self-conscious poetic -activity. - -And just as the Lyric of the Greeks and Romans is distinct from that -of the _Orientals_, so too, from another point of view, it differs -from the _romantic._ In other words, instead of unveiling its depths -in the intimacy of particular moods and states of feeling, it rather -elaborates, to the point of the most explicit definition, this inward -life of its individual passion and meditation. And by doing so it even -retains, even as the expression of this inward spirit, so far as this -is permitted to the Lyric, the plastic type of classic art. All that -it communicates, in short, of the views and maxims of life and wisdom, -despite all the penetration of its general principle, nevertheless -does not dispense with the free individuality of independent thought -and conception. It expresses itself less in the wealth of image and -metaphor, than directly and categorically. At the same time, also, the -personal feeling, at one time in more general relations, at another -in the form of vision itself, is on its own account objective. In the -same mode of individuality the particular types may be classified -as distinct from each other in conception, expression, phraseology, -and verse-measure, until they reach the culminating point of their -independent elaboration. And as we have found it true of the soul -itself and its ideas, so, too, the external presentment is of more -plastic type. In other words, from a musical point or view, it -emphasizes less the ideal soul-melody of emotion than the sensuous -verbal quantity in the rhythmical measure of its movement, to which it -may further attach the complex mazes of the dance. - -(_α_) With the richest originality this artistic form of Greek lyric -poetry is perfected. In the first instance we may trace it in those -_hymns_ possessing a content as yet more akin to the epic mode, which -do not so much express in their epic metre a personal enthusiasm as -they set before us a plastic image of gods in deliberately objective -outlines. The next step, so far as metre is concerned, we mark in the -_elegiac_ syllabic measure, which associates the pentameter with the -hexameter, which, in the regular recurrence of its ending after the -hexameter, and with its two equally divided sections, opens the way -to the complete singularity of the verse strophe. The elegy is also -throughout in its tone of the lyric type. This is so in the case of -the political elegy no less than the erotic, although, particularly -as gnomic elegy, it still closely approaches the epic insistence upon -and expression of the substantive as such, and for this reason almost -exclusively belongs to the Ionians, with whom the objective point -of view was generally predominant. In respect also to its musical -side, it is primarily the aspect of rhythm which is here successfully -worked out. And, on parallel lines with it, we may observe, thirdly, -the development of the _Iambic_ poem in a novel verse-measure. This, -however, is, by reason of the keenness of its invectives, from the -first of a more subjective or personal tendency. The genuine mode of -lyrical reflection and passion, however, receives for the first time -its full development in the so-called _Melisian_[20] lyric. The metres -are more varied, more capable of change; the strophes are more rich; -the suggestions of musical accompaniment are more complete in virtue -of the nature of the accepted modulation. Each poet creates a syllabic -measure which corresponds with his or her lyrical nature. Thus Sappho -adapts one to a type of composition which is sensuous, inspired with -the glow of passion and expressed with an effect which works up to a -supreme crisis. Alcaeus moulds one in harmony with his masculine and -bolder odes. To an exceptional degree, too, the Scoliasts supply many -indications of the finer nuances of diction and metre by reason of the -variety of their content and melodic utterance. - -Last of all, the lyric of the _chorus_ is richest of all in the -wealth of what it unfolds, and not merely so in what concerns idea -and thought, boldness of transition and connection or the like, but -also relatively to its external presentment. The choral song may be -interchanged for the single voice, and the ideal movement is not -merely satisfied with the bare rhythm of speech and the modulations -of music, but summons as its associate the plastic pose and movement -of the dance. The ideal aspect of the Lyric is consequently balanced -to perfection with the sensuous character of its delivery. The -subject-matter of this type of inspired verse is the most substantive -and weighty. Such poems celebrate the power and glory of the gods, -or that of victors in the games. Greeks, who not unfrequently were -divided in their political relations, found in them the positive vision -of their national unity. And, partly for this reason, aspects of -their ideal construction are not wanting which approach the objective -standpoint of the Epic. Pindar, for example, who reaches the highest -point of attainment in this type of composition, moves with ease, as I -have already pointed out, from the external motives of his compositions -to profound observations upon the general nature of ethical principle -and divine matters, or it may be upon heroes, heroic exploit, the -foundations of States, and the like. His creative gift possesses, in -short, the plastic sense of realization quite as much as the individual -sweep of imaginative energy. On this very account, however, it is not -so much the facts which follow their independent course in the epic -manner, as the personal enthusiasm, carried away by its object so -completely that the latter appears to be the burden and product of the -soul. - -Later lyric verse of the Alexandrines is less an independent -development and more a mere scholastic imitation and affectation of -elegance and correctness of expression, until finally it dissipates -itself in trifling graces and pleasantries, or seeks to bind up afresh -flowers of art and life already to hand in a garland of tender feeling -and conceit, and the witty experiment of eulogy or satire. - -(_β_) Among the Romans lyric poetry finds a soil no doubt fashioned -for it in various ways, but of less original productive qualities. The -period of its splendour is limited mainly to the age of Augustus, in -which it is cultivated as the elaborate expression and relaxation of -cultured society; or indeed, to a considerable degree, it is rather -an affair of the clever translator or copyist, and the fruit of taste -and research, than that of spontaneous feeling and really original -conception. At the same time it must be admitted that, despite the -learning and an alien mythology, to say nothing of the preferred -imitation of Alexandrine models, where the warmth of life is least -apparent, yet as a rule the characteristics of Roman personality no -less than the individual genius of particular poets, do assert an -independent position, and, so long as we put entirely on one side -the most intimate soul and expression of the art of poetry, have -accomplished sterling and consummate results, not merely in the -province of the ode, but also in that of epistles, satires, and elegy. -On the other hand, the later type of satire, which follows as a kind of -supplement, in its bitterness toward the decadence of the times, its -goaded indignation and virtuous declamation, fails to represent the -genuine sphere of an unperturbed poetical vision just in the degree -that it possesses nothing whatever to oppose to its picture of a -demoralized present save this very indignation and abstract rhetoric of -virtuous excitement. - -(_c_) For this reason, consequently, it is only after more modern -nationalities have appeared that a really original content and spirit -are communicated to lyrical composition, as we have previously seen, -was the case, too, with the Epic. This is due to the German, Romance, -and Slavonic peoples, which already, in their previous pagan days, -but principally after their conversion to Christianity, both in the -Middle Ages and in more recent times, have brought into being, and -continuously elaborated in various ways, a _third_ fundamental revival -of lyrical creation in what we may generally characterize as the -_romantic_ art-type. - -In this third branch of its activity, lyric poetry is of so -overwhelming an importance that its principle is enforced, more ---especially in the first instance, relatively to the Epos, but -consequently in its more modern development and relatively to the -drama, with a far profounder significance than was possible with -either Greek or Roman. Indeed, among certain nations, even genuine -epic materials are treated exclusively under the type of the lyric -narrative; in this way we have compositions as to which we may find -real difficulty in deciding the class to which they more truly belong. -The cause of this conspicuous tendency towards lyric composition is -mainly due to the fact that the entire evolution of the life of these -nations is based on this very principle of subjectivity, which is -constrained to assert and clothe what is substantive and objective as -its own from its own resources, and grows more and more self-conscious -of this penetration into its own personal wealth. Such a principle -declares its vigour in its least perturbed and most complete character -among the German peoples. The Slavonic races have, on the contrary, -first to wrestle forth from the Oriental absorption in the substantive -One and Universal. Between the two we may place the Romance stock, -which are confronted, in the conquered provinces of the Roman Empire, -not merely with the residue of Roman science and culture, but a social -system more elaborate from every point of view. In the process of -self-fusion with such conditions, they inevitably lose a part of their -original character. As for the subject-matter of this poetry, we may -describe it as dealing with pretty nearly every phase of national or -individual development, capable of expressing either the religious or -secular life of these nations as it expands in ever widening range, -and through the process of the centuries reflects in varied condition -and emotional state the heart of its spiritual substance. And the -fundamental type of it is either the expression of an emotional -state, concentrated to the most intimate self-possession, whether the -immediate object of attraction be national and other events, Nature -and external environment, or simply and solely itself, or whether it -be of the nature of reflection, both searching and self-introspective, -upon all that is implied for itself in such an extension of culture. -Regarded on its formal side, the plastic character of rhythmical -versification is exchanged for the music of alliteration, assonance, -and manifold alternations of rhyme. These novel elements it makes -use of sometimes in a quite simple and unassuming manner; in other -connections with much art and invention of modes of versification -wholly distinct in character. At the same time the external delivery -becomes increasingly more elaborate in its powers of adaptation to the -accompaniment of vocal and instrumental music. - -In our classification of the extensive compass of this group, we cannot -do better than follow that we accepted in the case of epic poetry. - -_First,_ we have the lyric composition of these modern nations while -still in the state of primitive paganism. - -_Secondly_, there is the richer development of this type in the -Christian Middle Ages. - -_Thirdly_, there is that lyric art based in some measure on the -reawakened study of ancient art, and in part on the fundamental -principle of modern Protestantism, a principle essential to its final -elaboration. - -In the present work, however, I shall be unable to discuss with more -detail the characteristics of the above development. I will, by way of -conclusion, merely draw attention to one German poet, whose influence -has given in modern times a quite extraordinary impetus to the lyric -poetry of our own fatherland, and whose services in this respect are -by no means appreciated by contemporary criticism as they deserve -to be. I refer to the poet of the Messias. Klopstock is among the -great Germans, who have inaugurated the new artistic epoch of their -people. He is a great figure, who, by means of courageous enthusiasm -and superb self-respect, wrested our poetry from the stupendous -insignificance of the Gottsched[21] period, which with its blockish -superficiality had completely destroyed the life of all that is noble -and of worth in the genius of our race; who has, in short, given us -poems fully awake to the highest demand of the poet's vocation, in a -form of thorough artistic excellence, if also somewhat austere, the -majority of which are stamped with the permanency of a classic. Some -of the odes of his youth are dedicated to a generous _friendship_, -which was to him at once symbolic of nobility, staunchness, honour, -the pride of his soul, a temple of his spirit. Others have reference -to a _personal_ attachment of real emotional depth, although it is -precisely in this field that we meet with many compositions which a -critical sense can only regard as so much prose. "Selmar and Selma" -is a poem of this class, a gloomy and tedious altercation between -lovers, which, not without many tears, woe, empty yearning, and useless -feats of melancholy emotion, revolves round the one mouldy and musty -question, which of the two, Selmar or Selma, is first to die. But in -Klopstock we find at least a genuine impulse of patriotism alive in -every pore. As a good Protestant the Christian mythology, with its -sacred legends and so forth--we must except the angels, for whom he -retained as a poet a profound respect, although they can only appear -abstract and lifeless in a type of poetry such as his, which claimed -the realism of life--neither satisfied his sense of the ethical -seriousness of art, nor yet the vigour of life and an intelligence, -which aspired to something more than blind wailing and self-abasement, -was, in short, both self-respecting and actively religious. The need -of some mythology, however, and one connected with Germany impressed -him strongly as a poet, in order that he might have definite names and -characters ready to hand as a stable basis of his imaginative creation. -It is impossible to associate such patriotic sentiments with the gods -of Greece. Consequently Klopstock attempted, we may justly say from -genuine national pride, to give a renewed life to the old mythology -of Wodan, Hertha and the rest. He was unfortunately as little able -to carry his aim to the point of objective effect and sufficiency by -this adoption of names of gods, which are no longer really Germanic, -however much they may have been so, as, let us say, the imperial museum -in Regensburg is qualified to stand for the ideal of our present -political life. However strongly, then, he may have felt the need to -be able to realize in poetry and as fact in a national form a general -folk-mythology, the truth of Nature and conscious life, these twilight -gods remain entirely devoid of essential truth; we may add there is a -kind of childish self-flattery in the belief that either reasonable -people or the national faith could take such an attempt seriously. -Apart from this, as objects of interest to the imagination, the -figures of Greek mythology are elaborated in ways with incomparably -more variety, infinitely stronger appeal to our aesthetic taste, our -sense of delight and freedom. In lyric poetry, however, it is the -self-revelation of the poet that is all-important. We ought at least -to honour in our patriotic poet this his solicitude and effort, an -effort which was sufficiently effective to bear subsequent fruit, and, -even in the field of poetry, to stimulate by its suggestion composition -on similar subjects. We have, however, to conclude our review, no word -to say against the purity, excellence, and admirable influence of this -patriotic sentiment of Klopstock as expressed in his enthusiasm for the -honour and value of our German speech, and certain characters of our -former history, that of Herrmann, for example, and above all particular -German Kaisers, who in some instances have even been self-celebrated in -song. Vital in him throughout is his justifiable pride in the German -muse, and his faith in her increasing courage to contend on equal -terms and in high-spirited self-reliance with that of the Greek, the -Roman, and the Englishman. And no less a genuine reflection of his -patriotism is the nature of his survey of the royal princes of Germany, -the expectations which their character have or had it in their power -to arouse on all that generally concerns honour, art, and science, -questions of public import and spiritual objects of essential value. On -the one hand we find him expressing his contempt of our princes, who, -as he tells us, remain on their comfortable chairs, surrounded with the -tobacco smoke of courtiers, buried in present obscurity and yet deeper -to be buried in the future. Or he may express his feelings in the -lament that even Frederick II - - - Nicht sah, dass Deutschland's Dichtkunst sich schnell erhob, - Aus fester Wurzel daurendem Stamm, und weit, - Der Æste Schalten wurf![22] - - -With pain of a like quality those vain hopes, too, return back to him, -in which he saw in Kaiser Joseph the uprise of a new world of spiritual -effort and poetry. And, finally, it is an honour to the heart of the -old veteran at least as great that he sympathizes with the present fact -that a people had shattered its fetters of every kind, had trodden -under foot the injustice of a thousand years, and for the first time -sought to found its political life on reason and right. - -He greets this new - - - Labende, selbst nicht geträumte Sonne. - Geseegnet sei mir du, das mein Haupt bedeckt, - Mein graues Haar, die Kraft, die nach sechzigen - Fortdauert; denn sie war's, so weithin - Brachte sie mich, dass diess Erlebte![23] - - -Nay, he will even express his gratitude to France:[24] - - - Verzeiht, O Franken (Namen der Bruder ist - Der edle Name) dass ich den Deutschen einst - Zurufte, das zu fliehen, warum ich - Ihnen jetzt flehe, euch nachzuahmen. - - -And, naturally, the acerbation of the poet was all the more bitter, -when this fair dawn of freedom changed to a day that was steeped in -horror and blood, one that murdered liberty. Klopstock, however, was -unable to give poetical expression to such painful feelings. What he -did find the opportunity to say was all the more prosaic, without -definite structure and logical consequence on account of the fact that -he had no higher purpose,[25] veiled in such facts, to set off against -his disappointed hope. His genius was in short entirely blind to any -more profound demand of reason in the facts of such a revolution. - -The greatness of Klopstock consists then essentially in his national -sympathies, his keen sense of freedom, friendship, love, and his -staunch Protestantism. We may justly honour him for his noble character -and his noble art, for his effort and achievement. And if, too, in many -directions he shares the limitations of his own times, and in truth is -responsible for many odes that are solely of interest to the critic, -the grammarian, the metrist, odes deficient in all poetic vitality, we -may affirm, nevertheless, that with the single exception of Schiller, -we shall find in our subsequent literature no more noble figure, no -disposition of such serious and masculine independence. - -We have, indeed, to compare with him Schiller and Goethe, who are not -merely the poetic exponents of their own times in a spirit resembling -his own, but in their experience as poets are of course far more -comprehensive. And, above all, in the songs of Goethe we Germans -unquestionably possess the most consummate, profound, and influential -poetic compositions of modern times. If they are wholly an expression -of the poet they are equally the treasure of his people; and, in fact, -as the genuine growth of his native soil, are completely in accord with -the fundamental tones of our national life and genius. - - -[Footnote 1: _Subjectivität._ Individual self-conscious life.] - -[Footnote 2: _Das Subject_, here the individual consciousness which -composes.] - -[Footnote 3: _Ergusses,_ the pouring out into a mould.] - -[Footnote 4: Vol. IV, pp. 169-172.] - -[Footnote 5: This appears to be the meaning of the words _die letzte -Music eines nationalen Inneren._] - -[Footnote 6: I presume by _Nachhülfe_ Hegel practically means imitation -rather than translation. It may be very much doubted whether any -composition, involving a change of language, can give anything but the -faintest knowledge of the original folk-song. Goethe's genius could -produce poetry out of strange materials, but he could not reproduce the -music of another medium.] - -[Footnote 7: _Subjektiver Art_.] - -[Footnote 8: Or as the text runs, "and as everybody's poet."] - -[Footnote 9: Pausanias, I, c. 8.] - -[Footnote 10: Æschines, ep. 4.] - -[Footnote 11: _Zusammengezogenheit._ The idea of concentration is also -present.] - -[Footnote 12: I have taken the revised translation.] - -[Footnote 13: _Äussersichseyn._ The being beside or aloof from oneself, -not so much in the sense of infatuation as ecstasy.] - -[Footnote 14: I presume Hegel means this by the words _nur zum -Trällern_; it might mean "merely to be hummed."] - -[Footnote 15: _Still in sich_.] - -[Footnote 16: High above the life of earth beneath it shall wave in the -blue band of heaven, neighbour to the thunder, on the boundary of the -starry world. It shall be a voice from above, ay, as the bright choir -of the stars, who praise their Creator in their motion and conduct the -garlanded year. Its voice of bronze is dedicate to eternal and earnest -matters alone, and, hour by hour, as it swiftly swings backwards and -forwards, it is one with Time in its flight.] - -[Footnote 17: _Einlebung._ This vital fusion with the object.] - -[Footnote 18: _In seiner in sich Zurückgenommenen Innerlichkeit_.] - -[Footnote 19: _In seinem Aufgehohenseyn._] - -[Footnote 20: That is, of the isle of Melos, Sappho's birthplace.] - -[Footnote 21: Readers of the Xenien of Goethe and Schiller will recall -the unsparing attacks which were directed against this formalist and -pedant.] - -[Footnote 22: Even Frederick II "did not see that the art of German -poesy was raising itself swift on high from the enduring stock of a -stable root, and spread the shade of its branches far abroad."] - -[Footnote 23: He greets this new "reawakened sun, no mere dream at -least of mine. Verily I bless thee, who sweepest over my head, my grey -hairs, the strength of me that still endures after its sixty years. Ay, -for was it not this strength which has carried me so far to see this -very vision!"] - -[Footnote 24: "Forgive me, brother of France, and brotherhood is the -noblest tie after all, that I once cried to my Germans to flee from -that, which I now implore them to follow--imitation of you." The -reference is of course to the French Revolution.] - -[Footnote 25: Hegel may mean that Klopstock was unable to see the real -benefits which would result from the French Revolution despite its -apparent failure. The sentence which follows would, however, suggest an -alternative interpretation that the poet was unable to see the higher -demand which the facts of Revolution made upon the French people, -and which from the first, that is, even when Klopstock admired them, -they did not either frankly face or successfully respond to. I think, -indeed, this latter is most probable.] - - - - -C. DRAMATIC POETRY - - -The reason that dramatic poetry must be regarded as the highest phase -of the art of poetry, and, indeed, of every kind of art, is due to -the fact that it is elaborated, both in form and substance, in a -whole--that is the most complete. For in contrast to every other sort -of sensuous _materia_, whether it be stone, wood, colour, or tone, that -of human speech is the only medium fully adequate to the presentation -of spiritual life; and further, among the particular types of the art -of articulate speech, dramatic poetry is the one, in which we find the -objective character of the Epos essentially united to the subjective -principle of the Lyric. In other words it presents directly before -our vision an essentially independent action as a definite fact, -which does not merely originate from the personal life of character -under the process of self-realization, but receives its determinate -form as the result of the substantive interaction in concrete life of -ideal intention, many individuals and collisions. This mediated form -of epic art by means of the intimate personal life of an individual -viewed in the very presence of his activity does not, however, -permit the drama to describe the external aspects of local condition -and environment, nor yet the action and event itself in the way that -they are so described in the epic. Consequently, in order that the -entire art-product may receive the full animation of life, we require -its complete scenic representation. And, finally, the action itself, -regarded in the full complexus of its ideal and external reality, is -adapted to two distinct types of composition of the most opposite -character, the predominant principles of which, regarded severally -as the tragic and comic type, create in their turn also a further -fundamental and specific point of view in our attitude to the dramatic -art. - -Starting then from the vantage of these general observations we may -indicate the course of our inquiry as follows: - -_Firsts_ we propose to consider the dramatic composition, both in its -general and more detailed features, in the contrast it presents to epic -and lyrical poetry. - -_Secondly_, our attention will be directed to its scenic presentation -and the conditions of this necessity. - -_Thirdly_, we shall pass under review the different types of dramatic -poetry as we find them realized in the concrete facts of past history. - - - - -I. THE DRAMA AS A POETICAL ART-PRODUCT - - -What we have, in the first instance, to define more emphatically is the -poetic aspect of the dramatic composition as such, that is to say in -its independence of the fact that the same is necessarily presented to -our direct vision on the stage. Our investigation of this will do well -to concentrate itself on the following points: - -_Firsts_ there is the general principle of dramatic poetry. - -_Secondly_, we have the several specific types of dramatic composition. - -_Thirdly_, there is the relation which obtains between these and the -public audience. - - -(_a_) _The Principle of Dramatic Poetry_ - -The demand of the drama, in the widest sense, is the presentation of -human actions and relations in their actually visible form to the -imaginative consciousness, that is to say, in the uttered speech of -living persons, who in this way give expression to their action. -Dramatic action, however, is not confined to the simple and undisturbed -execution of a definite purpose, but depends throughout on conditions -of collision, human passion and characters, and leads therefore to -actions and reactions, which in their turn call for some further -resolution of conflict and disruption. What we have consequently -before us are definite ends individualized in living personalities and -situations pregnant with conflict; we see these as they are asserted -and maintained, as they work in co-operation or opposition--all in a -momentary and kaleidoscopic interchange of expression--and along with -this, too, the final result presupposed and issuing from the entirety -of this interthreading and conflicting skein of human life, movement, -and accomplishment, which has none the less to work out its tranquil -resolution. The mode of poetical composition adapted to this novel type -of content can be, as already suggested, no other than a mediating -union of the principles of epic and lyrical art respectively. - -(_α_) The _first_ point of importance we have to settle to our -satisfaction is that of the _time_ at which dramatic poetry is able -to assert itself in all its predominance. Drama is the product of an -already essentially cultured condition of national life. It already -presupposes as essentially a feature of past history not only the -primitive poetic period of the genuine Epos, but also the independent -personal excogitation of lyrical rapture. The bare fact that, while -combining these two points of view, it is satisfied with neither -sphere in its separation proves that this is so. And in order that -we may have this poetic combination the free self-consciousness of -human aims, developments and destinies must be already fully alert -and awake, must have attained, in short, a degree of culture such as -is only possible in the intermediate and later epochs of a nation's -development. For this reason, too, the greatest exploits and events -of a nation's primitive history are rather of an epic than a dramatic -type. Such are features of the national existence for the most part -related to communities outside it, such as the Trojan war, or the wave -of popular migration, as illustrated in the Crusades, or the national -resistance to a common enemy, as was the case in the war of Greece -against Persia. It is only at a later stage that we meet with the more -stable independence of single heroes, who create for themselves and out -of themselves in their isolation definite ends, and carry through the -undertakings they imply. - -(_β_) We may add the following remarks upon the nature of this -_mediation_ between the opposed principles of _epic_ and _lyric poetry._ - -The Epos already makes an action visible to our imaginative sense. It -is, however, here presented as the substantive entirety of a national -spirit under the form of definite events and exploits of external life, -in which personal volition, the individual aim and the externality of -vital conditions, together with the obstructions which such external -facts present, are retained in an equal balance. In the Lyric, on the -contrary, it is the individual person, which is emphasized in the -independence of his subjective life and as such expressed. - -(_αα_) In combining these two points of view drama has in the _first_ -place, following in this respect the Epos, to bring before our vision -an event, action, or practical affair. But above all in everything that -is thus presented the factor of bare externality must be obliterated, -and in, its place the self-conscious and active personality is posited -as the paramount ground and vital force. The drama, in short, does -not take exclusive refuge in-the lyric presence of soul-life, as such -stands in contrast to an external world, but propounds such a life -in and through _its_ external realization. And in virtue of this -the event does not appear to proceed from external conditions, but -rather from personal volition and character; it receives in fact its -dramatic significance exclusively in its relation to subjective aims -and passions. At the same time the individual is not left exclusively -rooted in his self-exclusive independence; he comes to his own through -the peculiar nature of the conditions in which he is placed, and -subject to which his character and purpose become the content of his -volitional faculty, quite as much so in fact as in virtue of the -nature of the particular purpose itself in its opposition to and -conflict with other ends. Consequently the dramatic action in question -must submit to a process of development and collision with other -forces, which themselves, on their own account, and even in a contrary -direction to that willed and intended by the active personality, effect -the ultimate course of the events through which the personal factor, -in its essential, characteristics of human purpose, personality, and -spiritual conflict, is asserted. This substantive or objective aspect, -which is enforced along with the individual character, in other -respects acting independently from its own ideal resources, is no other -than the very point of view which we find effective and vital in the -principle of dramatic poetry, when it coincides with that of the epic -composition. - -(_ββ_) However much, therefore, we may have as a centre of attraction -the intimate soul-life of particular men and women, nevertheless -dramatic composition cannot rest content with the purely lyrical -conditions of the emotional life; nor can the poet of such merely limit -his sympathy to the dusty record of exploits that are already complete, -or, speaking generally, merely describe the experience of enjoyment -or other states of emotional or contemplative life. The drama, on the -contrary, has to exhibit situations and the spiritual atmosphere that -belongs to them as definitely motived by the individual character, -which is charged with specific aims, and which makes these an effective -part of the practical content of its volitional self-identity. The -definition of soul-life, therefore, in the drama passes into the -sphere of impulse, the realization of personality by means of active -volition, in a word, effective action; it passes out of the sphere -of pure ideality, it makes itself an object of the outer world, and -inclines itself to the concrete facts of the epic world. The external -phenomenon, however, instead of attaining existence in the bare fact of -an event, is here, in the view of the acting character himself, charged -with the opinions and aims he forms on his own account. Action is here -the executed will, which as such is at the same time _recognized_, -recognized, that is, not merely in its origin and point of departure -from the soul-life, but also in respect to its ultimate purpose. In -other words, all that issues from the action, issues, so far as the -personality in question is concerned, from himself, and reacts thereby -on his personal character and its circumstances. This constant -relation of the entire complexus of external condition to the soul-life -itself of the self-realized and self-realizing individuality, who is -at once the basis and assimilating force of the entire process, marks -the point where dramatic poetry falls in line with the truly lyrical -principle. - -(_γγ_) It is only when thus regarded that human action asserts itself -as _action_ in the supreme sense, that is, as actual execution of -ideal intentions and aims with the realization of which the individual -agent associates himself as with himself, discovers himself and his -satisfaction therein, and thereupon further takes his stand with his -entire being in all that proceeds from it as a constituent of the -objective world. A character which is dramatic plucks for himself the -fruit of his own deeds. - -Inasmuch, however, as the interest, in a dramatic sense, restricts -itself to the personal aim, whose hero the active personality is, and -it is only necessary in the artistic work to borrow from the external -world so much as is bound in an essential relation to this purpose, -which originates in self-conscious life, for this reason the drama is -_primarily_ of a more abstract nature than the epic poem. For on the -one hand the action, in so far as it reposes in the self-determination -of character, and is deducible from this vital source and centre, does -not presuppose the epic background of an entire world through all the -varied aspects and ramifications of its positive realization, but is -concentrated in the simpler definition of circumstance subject to which -the individual man is absorbed in his immediate purpose and carries -the same to accomplishment. And from a further point of view we have -not here the type of personality which asserts its development to our -vision in the _entire complexity_ of national qualities as such are -displayed by the epic, but rather character viewed in _direct_ relation -to its action, character which possesses a _definite_ end directed to -spirit life in its universality. This end or purpose, this eventual -fact on which it depends, is placed in a more exalted position than -is possible to the extension of the purely individual life, which -appears inclusively as living organ and animating vehicle of the same. -A more widely extended unveiling of character under the most varied -aspects which are present either in no connection at all or only in -a more remote one to its action, as we find it concentrated on _one_ -single point of interest would be a superfluity; consequently in this -respect, too, that is, in its relation to the active personality, -dramatic poetry ought to be more simply concentrated than epic poetry. -The same generalization is applicable to the number and variety of -the characters represented. For in virtue of the fact, as previously -insisted, that the movement of the drama is not thrown upon the -background of a national existence essentially complete in its -envisagement of every conceivable variety of class, age, sex, activity, -and so forth, but on the contrary, rivets our attention throughout -on _one_ fundamental purpose and its achievement, a realization of -objective fact so extended and intricate as this would not merely be -ineffective, but would actually impair the result proposed. At the -same time, however, and _secondly_, the end and content of an action -is only dramatic by reason of the fact that on account of its defined -character, in the distinctive qualities of which the particular -personality itself can alone lay hold of it under equally definite -conditions, it calls into being in other individuals other objects -and passions opposed to it, This pathetic excitant[1] may, no doubt, -in each separate active agent, assume the form of spiritual, ethical, -and divine forces, such as duty, love to fatherland, parents, wife, -relations, and the like. If, however, this essential content of human -feeling and activity is to assert itself as dramatic it must in its -specialization _confront_ us as distinct ends, so that in every case -the action will inevitably meet with obstruction in its relation -to other active individuals, and fall into subjection to changing -conditions and contradictions, which alternately prejudice the success -of their own particular fulfilment. The genuine content, the essential -operative energy throughout may therefore very well be the eternal -forces, the essentially explicit ethical State, the gods of vital -reality, in a word the divine and the true, but it is not these in the -might of their tranquillity, in that condition, so to speak, wherein -the unmoved gods abide, saved from all action, as some serene figures -of sculpture self-absorbed in a state of blessedness. What we have here -is the divine in its community, as content, that is, and object of -human personality, as concrete existence in its realization,[2] invited -to act and charged with movement. - -If, however, as above described, the godlike presence constitutes -the most vital objective truth in the external precipitate[3] of -human action, then, _thirdly_, the deciding factor in the course and -original departure of such an evolution and conflict cannot reside with -particular individuals, which are placed in a relation of opposition -to one another; it must be referred to the divine presence itself, -regarded as essential totality: and for this reason, the drama, it -matters not in what form it may be shaped, will have to propound to -us the vital energy of a principle of Necessity which is essentially -self-supporting, and capable of resolving every conflict and -contradiction. - -(_γ_) Consequently, we have before everything else the demand made -on the dramatic _poet_ in his creative capacity, that to the fullest -extent his intelligence is awake to that ideal and universal substance -which is at the root of human ends, conflicts, and destinies. He must -fully acquaint himself with all the contradictions and developments -which the particular action will, under the proposed conditions, -necessarily involve and display. He must not merely be aware of them -in so far as they originate in personal passion and the specific -characterization of particular individuals, or as he finds such -related to the actual content of human designs and resolves; but also -in so far as they are simply referable to the external relations -and circumstances of concrete life. And, along with this, it should -be within his powers to recognize what the real nature of these -paramount forces are, which apportion to man the just guerdon of his -achievements. The rightful claim, no less than the wrongful misuse -of the passions, which storm through the human heart, and excite to -action, must lie disclosed to him with equal clarity, in order that -precisely in those cases where the ordinary vision can only discover -the ascendancy of obscurity, chance, and confusion, he, at least, will -find revealed the actual selfaccomplishment of what is the essence of -reason and truth itself. It follows, therefore, that the dramatic poet -ought as little to confine his efforts to the indefinite exploration -of the depths of emotional life, as the one-sided retention of any -single exclusive mood of soul-life, or any limited partiality in -the type of his sense-perception and spiritual outlook generally. -He ought, rather, to exclude nothing from his vision that may be -embraced by the widest expansion of Spirit conceivable. And this is -so because the spiritual powers which are exclusively distinct in the -mythological Epos, and which, by virtue of the many-sided aspects of -_actual individualization_[4]tend to lose the _clear definition_ of -their significance, assert themselves in dramatic poetry in consonance -with their simple substantive content as pathos altogether, and as -apart from individual characters. The drama is, in fact, the resolution -of the one-sided aspect of these powers, which discover their -self-stability in the dramatic character. And this is so whether, as -in tragedy, they are opposed to such in hostility, or, as in comedy, -they are displayed within these characters themselves, without further -mediation, in a condition of resolution. - -(_b_) _Dramatic Composition_ - -In discussing the drama as a concrete work of art, I propose to -emphasize, briefly, the following fundamental points: - -_First_ there is the unity of the same viewed in contrast to that of -the Epos and the lyric poem. - -_Secondly_, we have to consider the articulation of its parts, of its -separate parts and their development. - -_Thirdly_, there is the external aspect of diction, dialogue, and -verse-measure. - -(_α_) What we have in the first instance to observe and, from the -broadest point of view, to establish with regard to the unity of the -drama, is connected with a remark made in a previous passage to the -effect that dramatic poetry, in contradistinction to the Epos, must -be more strenuously self-concentrated. For, although the Epic makes -a specific event its centre of unity, this is none the less expanded -over a wide and manifold field of the national existence, and may -break up into very various episodes and the independent presentation -which belongs to each as parts of the entire panorama. An analogous -appearance of merely general connection, on grounds which are converse -to the above, is permissible to certain types of lyrical poetry. -Inasmuch, however, as in dramatic poetry, from one point of view, -that epic foundation, as we have seen, falls away--and as, otherwise -regarded, the individual characters do not find their expression -under the insulation proper to lyric expression, but rather assert -in such a way their mutual relations to one another, by means of the -opposed features of their characterization and aims, that it is just -this personal relation which constitutes the ground of their dramatic -realization--it follows, as by a law of necessity, that the synthetic -unity of the entire composition is of a more stringent character. Now -this more restricted homogeneity is quite as much objective as it is -ideal in its nature. It is objective relatively to the features of the -practical content of the objects, which the different characters carry -out in a condition of conflict. It is ideal or subjective in virtue of -the fact that this essentially substantive content appears in dramatic -work as the passion of particular characters, so that the ill-success -or achievement, fortune or misfortune, victory or defeat, essentially -affect the individuals, whom such concern, in their actual intention.[5] - -The more obvious laws of dramatic composition may be summarized in the -time-honoured prescription of the so-called unities of place, time, and -action. - -(_αα_) The inalterability of one exclusive _locale_ of the action -proposed belongs to the type of those rigid rules, which the French -in particular have deduced from classic tragedy and the critique of -Aristotle thereupon. As a matter of fact, Aristotle merely says[6] -that the duration of the tragic action should not exceed at the most -the length of a day. He does not mention the unity of place at all; -moreover, the ancient tragedians have not followed such a principle -in the strict sense adopted by the French. As examples of such a -deviation, we have a change of scene both in the Eumenides of Æschylus -and the Ajax of Sophocles. To a still less extent can our more modern -dramatic writing, in its effort to portray a more extensive field of -collision, _dramatis personae_ of whatever kind and incidental event, -and, in a word, an action the ideal explication of which requires, -too, an external environment of greater breadth, subject itself to -the yoke of a rigid identity of scene. Modern poetry, in so far, that -is, as its creations are in harmony with the romantic type, which as -a rule displays more variety and caprice in its attitude to external -condition, has consequently freed itself from any such demand. If, -however, the action is in truth concentrated in a few great motives, so -that it can avoid complexity of external exposition, there will be no -necessity for considerable alternation of scene. Indeed, the reverse -will be a real advantage. In other words, however false such a rule -may be in its purely conventional application, it contains at least -the just conception that the constant transition of scene, without -any particular reason why we should have one more than another, is -obviously quite inadmissible. The dramatic concentration of the action -ought necessarily to assert itself also in this external aspect, and -thus present a contrast to the Epos, which is permitted in the most -varied way to adapt itself to the fresh expatiation in the form of -the spatial condition and its changes. Moreover, from a further point -of view, the drama is not, as the Epos, composed exclusively for the -imaginative sense, but for the direct vision of our senses. In the -sphere of the pure imagination we can readily pass from one scene to -another. In a theatrical representation, however, we must not put -too great a strain on the imaginative faculty beyond the point which -contradicts the ordinary vision of life. Shakespeare, for example, -in whose tragedies and comedies there is a very frequent change of -scene, had posts put up with notices attached to them indicating -the particular scene on view. A device of this kind is a poor sort -of affair, and can only impair the dramatic effect. For this reason -the unity of place is at least commendable to the extent that its -intelligibility and convenience are _primâ facie_ assured, in so far, -that is, that all confusion is thus avoided. But after all, no doubt, -much may still be trusted to the imagination, which would conflict with -our ordinary perception and notion of probability. The most convenient -course in this, as in other matters, is a happy mean; in other words, -while not wholly excluding the claim of purely natural fact and -perception, we may still permit ourselves considerable license in our -attitude to both. - -(_ββ_) The unity of _time_ is a precisely similar case. In the pure -realm of imaginative idea we may no doubt, with no difficulty, combine -vast periods of time; in the direct vision of perception we cannot -so readily pass over a few years. If the action is, therefore, of a -simple character, viewed in its entire content and conflict, we shall -do best to concentrate the time of such a conflict, from its origin -to its resolution, in a restricted period. If, on the contrary, it -demands character richly diversified, whose development necessitates -many situations which, in the matter of time, lie widely apart from -one another, then the formal unity of a purely relative and entirely -conventional duration of time will be essentially impossible. To -attempt to remove such a representation from the domain of dramatic -poetry, on the _primâ facie_ ground that it is inconsistent with the -strict rule of time-unity would simply amount to making the prose of -ordinary facts the final court of appeal, as against the truth of -poetic creation. Least of all need we waste time in discussing the -purely empirical probability that as audience we could, in the course -of a few hours, witness also, directly through our sense, merely the -passage of a short space of time. For it is precisely in the case -where the poet is most at pains to illustrate this conclusion that, -from other points of view, he well-nigh invariably perpetrates the most -glaring improbabilities. - -(_γγ_) In contrast to the above examples of unity, that of _action_ is -the one truly inviolable rule. The true nature, however, of this unity -may be a matter of considerable dispute. I will therefore develop my -own views of its significance at greater length. - -Every action must without exception have a _distinct_ object which it -seeks to achieve. It is through his action that man enters actively -into the concrete actual world, in which also the most universal -subject-matter is in its turn accepted in the poetic work and -defined under more specific manifestation. From this point of view, -therefore, the unity will have to be sought for in the realization of -an end itself essentially definite, and carried under the particular -conditions and relations of concrete life to its consummation. The -circumstances adapted to dramatic action are, however, as we have -seen, of a kind that the individual end meets with obstructions at -the hands of other personal agents, and this for the reason that -a contradictory end stands in its path, which in its turn equally -strives after fulfilment, so that it is invariably attached to the -reciprocal relation of conflicts and their devolution. Dramatic action -in consequence rests essentially upon an action that is involved with -_resistance_;[7] and the genuine unity can only find its _rationale_ -in the entire movement which consists in the assertion of this -collision relatively to the definition of the particular circumstances, -characters, and ends proposed, not merely under a mode consonant -to such ends and characters, but in such a way as to resolve the -opposition implied. Such a resolution has, precisely as the action -itself has, an external and an inside point of view. In other words, on -the one side, the conflict of the opposed _ends_ is finally composed; -and on the other the particular _characters_, to a greater or less -extent, have committed their entire volitional energy and being to -the undertaking they strive to accomplish. Consequently the success -or misadventure of the same, to complete or partial execution, the -inevitable disaster or the secure union effected with intentions that -are apparently opposed to their extent, also determine the destiny -of the character in question, that it is inextricably involved with -that which it was impelled to commit to such activity. A true end is -therefore only then consummated, where the object and interest of the -action, around which all revolves, are identified with the individuals -concerned, and absolutely united to them. And whether the difference -and opposition of the dramatic character assumes a simple form or -branches out in various accessory episodes and individuals, the unity -in either case may be of a more severe or less stringent nature. -Comedy, for instance, in the many-sided features of its worked-out -intrigue does not require such deliberate self-concentration as tragedy -does, which is as a rule motived on grandiose and simple lines. -Romantic tragedy, however, is also in this respect more varied and -less consistent in its unity than is classic tragedy. And even where -there is more licence the relation of the episodes and supplementary -characters must be throughout recognizable; and the entirety of the -piece should also naturally and without strain fit in with and help to -complete the conclusion. So, for example, in "Romeo and Juliet," the -discord between the families, which lies outside the lovers and their -object and destiny, is no doubt the base on which the action is shaped, -though not the actual matter on which all actually depends. Shakespeare -consequently devotes the necessary, if also wholly subordinate -attention to the final issue of this conflict in his conclusion. In -the same way in "Hamlet" the fortunes of Denmark remain a subsidiary -interest, though with the entrance of Fortinbras they are apparently -considered, and are settled at last satisfactorily. - -No doubt in the particular end, which resolves the colliding factors, -the possibility of fresh interests and conflicts may be presented; it -is, however, the _one_ collision with which the action is concerned, -which has to discover its final adjustment in the essentially -independent composition. Of this type are the three tragedies of -Sophocles borrowed from the Theban cycle of myths. The first contains -the discovery by Œdipus of the murderer of Laius; the second his -peaceful death in the home of the Eumenides; the third the fate of -Antigone. And, despite of this connection, every one of the three is -equally an intrinsically complete whole independent of the other two. - -(_β_) With regard to our _second_ point, namely, that of the mode of -denouement in a dramatic composition, we have three main features of -distinction to consider between it and epic composition or the song, -namely, the size of its extension, the nature of its progression and -its division into scenes and acts. - -(_αα_) We have already seen that the embrace of a drama--is not -so extensive as the demand of the epos implies. I propose, -therefore--over and above the two features already discussed of -that world-condition, which is necessarily implied in the complete -picture of the epic, and the more simple collision which is an equally -essential constituent of the content of drama--merely to advert to -the further ground, that in the drama the greater part of everything -that the muse of the epic poet has to describe and linger over as -servant of our imaginative vision, is omitted altogether from the -scenic reproduction. And, further, in the case of drama it is not -actual exploit, but the exposition of personal passions which is -here the main thing. This personal life, however, in contrast to the -expanse of the phenomenal world, is concentrated in simple emotions, -sentences, decisions, and the like; and here, too, as distinct from -the collateral display of epic narration and its historical part, it -gives effect to the principle of lyric absorption and the origination -and expression in present time of passion and idea. Dramatic poetry is, -however, not satisfied with merely _one_ situation;[8] it presents the -ideal world of emotional life or intelligence in active self-assertion -as a totality of circumstances and ends of very various character, -which expresses taken together, all that, if viewed relatively to -its activity, passes in such an inward world. In comparison with the -lyrical poem, the drama reaches out to and is completed in a far more -extensive embrace of subject-matter. To summarize this comparative -relation we may say, perhaps, that dramatic poetry stands as a -mean between the wide embrace of the Epopaea and the concentrated -compression of the Lyric. - -(_ββ_) Yet more important than this aspect of external extension is -the nature of the _dramatic progression_ as opposed to the mode of the -epic's devolution The form of the epic objectivity demands throughout, -as we have seen, a lingering style of description, which may along -with this become more intense and pointed in its display of active -obstruction. It is possible that we may at first blush incline to the -view that, inasmuch as other ends and characters resist the main end -and principal character in dramatic exposition, dramatic poetry is -entitled to accept this sort of pause and obstacle as an essential -feature of its principle. As a matter of fact just the reverse is -the case. The true dramatic progression is a _continuous_ movement -_onwards_ to the final catastrophe. This is clear from the simple fact -that it is in _collision_ that we find the emphatic turning point. In -consequence of this we have the twofold view of, in the first place, a -general strain towards the outbreak of this conflict, and, secondly, -the necessity implied in this discord and contradiction of views, ends, -and activities, that they should find some resolution to which they are -driven forwards. By this we by no means assert that mere celerity of -forward movement is simply in itself beautiful in the dramatic sense. -On the contrary, the dramatic poet should have himself room to supply -every situation on its own account with all the motives which it truly -implies. Episodical scenes, however, which only impede the action are -contrary to the nature of the drama. - -(_γγ_) As a final point, we may divide the course of the dramatic work -most naturally by simply following the stages implied in the notion -of dramatic movement itself. In this connection Aristotle[9] long ago -remarks that a whole is that which possesses a beginning, a middle, -and a conclusion. He further defines a beginning 'as that which, of -itself necessary, does not issue from something else, and out of -which something other than itself issues and proceeds. The end is the -reverse of this, namely, that which originates from something else, -either of necessity, or mainly so at least, but which does not itself -lead to further consequence. The middle is that which both issues from -something else, and also is that from which something else proceeds. - -Now no doubt in the reality of our experience every action includes -many presuppositions which make it a difficult matter to decide the -exact point where we may find the true commencement. In so far, -however, as dramatic action rests essentially on a definite state of -collision, the right point of departure will lie in the situation, -out of which the future devolution of that conflict, despite the fact -that it has not as yet broken out, will none the less in its further -course issue. The end, on the contrary, will then be attained, when -the resolution of the discord and its development is secured in every -possible respect. In the midway condition between origination and end -we have the conflict of ends, and the struggle of individual persons -in collision. These different section's are in dramatic composition, -so to speak, the phases or moments of the action of what are also -actions, and the definition of this is admirably indicated by the -_acts_ of the piece. They are now of course more or less equivalent -to pauses of time, and a prince on one occasion, who was either in a -hurry, or wished the action to proceed without interruption, blamed -his chamberlain openly that such a pause occurred. With regard to -their _number three_ such acts for every kind of drama is the number -that will adapt itself most readily to intelligible theory. Of -these the _first_ discloses the appearance of the collision, which -is thereupon emphasized in the _second_ with all the animation of -conflicting interests as the positive difference of such discord and -its progression, until, _finally_, driven as it were upon the very -apex of its contradiction, it is necessarily resolved. We may cite--as -some kind of illustration of this division which the nature of such an -action suggests--from ancient drama, in which no doubt the dramatic -articulation is as a rule less distinct, the trilogies of Æschylus, -in which each single play combines with the others to form a single -and completely exclusive whole.[10] In modern poetry the Spaniards -mainly follow such a division into three acts. The English, French, -and Germans, on the contrary, for the most part divide the entire -play into _five_ acts, in which the initial exposition is assigned to -the first, the three next are occupied with the various aggressions -and reactionary effects, the complex intentions and conflicts of the -opposed parties; and it is not until the fifth that we reach the entire -resolution of such contending forces. - -(_γ_) The third and final important aspect we have to investigate in -our present connection is the nature of the _external means_, in so far -as the employment of the same by dramatic art can be held distinct from -and independent of the actual scenic representation that is otherwise -essential to its complete display. An account of the specific nature -of diction which is frequently dramatic generally, secondly, of the -distinguishing features of the monologue, dialogue, and the like, and, -lastly, of verse measure, will be all that is necessary here. As we -have more than once insisted in the drama the fact of the action is -not the external aspect to which we refer, but the exposition of the -ideal spirit of the action, not merely in respect to the _dramatis -personae_ and their passion, pathos, resolve, interaction, and -mediation, but also relatively to the universal essence of the action -in its conflict and destiny. It is this ideally pregnant spirit, -in so far as poetry gives embodiment to it in poetic form, which -pre-eminently discovers an appropriate expression in the language -of poetry, viewing this, as we should, as the most spiritual way of -expressing emotions and ideas. - -(_αα_) But, moreover, just as the drama combines the principles of -the Epos and the Lyric, dramatic diction, too, is compelled both to -carry and assert within itself elements that are lyrical and those -that are epic. The _lyrical_ approach is rather a special feature of -modern drama, and as a rule in those cases where the personal life is -or tends to be self-absorbed, and seeks in its decision and action -throughout to retain the self-consciousness of its inward resources. -But none the less this unveiling of the individual heart-life, if it is -to remain dramatic, ought not merely to be the exploitation of a vague -and variable cloud of emotions, memories, and visions; it should keep -its relation to the action constant throughout, should make its result -identical with that of the different phases of the same. - -In contrast to this subjective pathos the epic character of the -diction, which we may define as the _objective_ pathos, is mainly -concerned with the unfolding of what is substantive in dramatic -relations, ends, and persons on lines rather directed to the vision of -the audience. Such a point of view can also in part assume a lyrical -tone, remaining when it does so dramatic only in so far as it does not -more entirely in its independent force form the progress of the action -and its asserted relation to the same. And over and above this, as a -second residue, so to speak, of epic poetry, we may have the records of -narrative, descriptions of battles and the like thrown in. But these -also, in genuine dramatic composition, ought to be marked with greater -compression and animated movement, and, relatively to their presentment -as narrative, a necessary connection with the progress of the action -should be evident. - -In conclusion, genuine dramatic art consists in the expression of -individuals in the conflict of their interests and the discord roused -between their characters and their transitory passions. It is here that -the twofold aspect of lyric and epic poetry[11] will assert its power -in true dramatic union: and we have then attached to this the aspect of -positive external fact expressed likewise in the medium of language, as -where we have, for instance, the departure and entrance of _dramatis -personae_ as a rule announced beforehand; not unfrequently also their -external habit or demeanour is indicated by other persons. - -A fundamental distinction over the entire field now under review is the -so-called realistic mode of expression, as opposed to a conventional -speech of the theatre and its rhetoric. Diderot, Lessing, Goethe, and -Schiller also in their youth addressed themselves in modern times -above all to this attitude of direct and natural expression. Lessing -did so with the powers of a trained and sensitive observation Schiller -and Goethe did so with their predilection for the direct animation -of unembellished robustness and force. That men should converse with -one another as in the Greek, or with more insistance--and in this -latter respect the criticism has a reasonable basis--as in French -comedy and tragedy was scouted as contrary to Nature. This type of -naturalism, however, may very readily, with its superfluity of merely -realistic traits, fall into the other extreme of dryness and prose, in -so far, that is, as the characters are not developed in the essential -qualities of their emotional life and action, but only as they happen -to express themselves in the literal accuracy of their individual life, -without indicating therein any more significant self-consciousness -or any further sense of their essential position. The more natural -the characterization is allowed to remain in this sense the more -prosaic it becomes. In actual life men converse and strive with one -another before everything else on the mere basis of their _distinct -singularity._ If our object is to depict them simply as such it -is impossible that they should also be represented in their truly -substantive significance.[12] And, if we look at the essence of the -matter, this question of crudeness and urbanity can only be in the last -instance treated subject to the above considerations. In other words -while, on the one hand, such crudeness or coarseness is made to issue -from the particular personality, which is exclusively committed to the -unmediated dictation of an imaginative type of outlook and feeling, in -the converse treatment an urbanity is the outcome of a purely abstract -and formal generalization of consideration for others, recognition -of the claims of personality, love, honour, and the like, in which -nothing that is suggestive of a rich and objective content can be -expressed.[13] Between these two extremes of a purely formal generality -and this natural expression of unpolished peculiarities we have the -true universal, which is throughout neither formal nor destitute of -individuality, but finds its concrete realization in a twofold way from -the defined content of character and the objective presence of opinions -and aims. Genuine poetry will therefore consist in the assertion -of what belongs to immediate and actual life as characteristic and -individual in the purifying medium of universality,[14] both aspects -being permitted to mediate each other. In this case we are conscious, -even in respect to diction, that without being wholly banished from the -basis of reality and its actual traits of truth, we are nevertheless -carried into another sphere, that is to say the ideal realm of art. -Of this latter character is the diction of Greek dramatic poetry, the -later diction of Goethe, and in part, too, that of Schiller, and in -his own way Shakespeare's also, although the Englishman, owing to the -peculiar conditions of the contemporary stage, is forced in part now -and again to accommodate his verbal language to the actual ability of -the actor.[15] - -(_ββ_) We may _further_ classify the mode of dramatic expression as -that of choral interlude, monologue, and dialogue. It is the ancient -drama which has pre-eminently elaborated the distinction between -chorus and dialogue. In our modern drama this falls away. What, in -the classical composition, was presented by the _chorus_, is now -rather placed in the mouths of the leading characters. The choric song -expresses, among the ancients, by way of contrast to the particular -characters and their more personal or more reciprocal conflict, the -general or more impersonal view of the situation, and the emotions it -excites, in a manner which at one time inclines to the objective style -of epic narrative, at another to the impulsive movement of the Lyric. -In the _monologue_, on the other hand, it is the isolated individual -who, in a given situation of the action, becomes objective on his -own account. Monologues are, therefore, dramatically in their right -place at those moments chiefly when the emotional life is entirely -self-concentrated as the result of previous events; when it sums up, -as it were, the nature of the cleft between itself and others, or its -own spiritual division; or when it arrives at some sudden decision, or -comes to the final point of resolve on matters already long debated. - -The _third_ and complete form of the drama, however, is the _dialogue_. -For in this the _dramatis personae_ are mutually able to express their -character and aims, not merely relatively to their personal attitude -to each other, but also to the substantive character of the pathos -disclosed; they engage in conflict, and thereby actually advance the -movement of the action. We may further distinguish in the dialogue -between the expression of a pathos that is _subjective_ and one that -is _objective._ The first rather appertains to a given passion of more -accidental a nature, whether it be the case in which it is retained -essentially in suppression, and is only expressed aphoristically, or -that in which it finds a vent in the most complete and exhaustive -explosion. Poets, who endeavour to arouse the full movement of personal -emotion by means of poignant scenes, are exceptionally partial to this -type of pathos. Nevertheless, despite all their endeavour to depict -personal suffering and unrestrained passion, or the unreconciled inward -dissension of soul-life, it remains the fact that the human soul, -in its depth, is less effected thereby than it is through a pathos, -wherein at the same time a genuine objective content is evolved. -For this reason the earlier plays of Goethe, despite all the real -penetration of their subject-matter and the natural force of their -dialogue, make on the whole a weaker impression. And, in the same way, -outbreaks of unrelieved distraction and unrestrained fury, effect a -truly healthy sense only in subordinate degree; and, above all, what -is wholly frightful rather chills us than makes the blood flow. The -poet may describe passion with all the overwhelming power possible. -It is ineffective; the heart is merely rent in pieces,[16] and turns -aside from it. What we fail to find here is that which art can least -dispense with, the positive aspect of reconciliation. The ancient -tragedians, therefore, mainly sought for their effect by means of the -objective type of pathos; nor is there wanting here genuine human -individuality, so far as this was compatible with their art. The plays, -also, of Schiller possess this pathos of a great spiritual force,[17] a -pathos which is penetrative throughout, and is manifested and expressed -everywhere as fundamental to the action. It is, above all, to this -circumstance that we may ascribe the lasting effect which the tragedies -of Schiller produce even in our own day; I refer in particular to -their scenic reproduction. For that which produces a profound dramatic -effect of universal and enduring appeal can be only the substantive in -action--by which I mean, viewing it as definite content, the ethical -substance therein, or, in its more formal aspect, the grandeur of ideal -reach and character, in which respect, again, Shakespeare is supreme. - -(_γγ_) I will, in conclusion, add merely a word or two on the point of -_verse-measure._ Dramatic metre is best when it lies midway between -the tranquil, uniform flow of the hexameter and the more interrupted -and split-up syllabic metres congenial to the Lyric. In this respect -the iambic metre is above all others commendable. For the iambus, with -the rhythm of its onward movement, which may be either accelerated by -anapaests, or be made more solemn and weighty with the spondee, forms a -most fitting accompaniment to the march of the action; and in quite a -peculiar way the senarius possesses a real tone of noble and restrained -emotional force. Among modern authors the Spaniards, with an artistic -purpose the reverse of this, adopt trochaeic tetrameters, the effect of -which is one of tranquil retardation; a measure which, with its variety -of interwoven rhymes and assonances, in part, too, with its alternative -absence of rhyme, is admirably adapted to the imaginative exuberance -of phantasy, and to the fine-drawn argumentative antitheses, which -characterize this poetry and impede rather than advance the action. -In a contrast of a similar kind, the French Alexandrine is harmonious -with the formal carriage and the declamatory rhetoric of passions, -sometimes held in restraint and at others expressed at full heat, the -conventional expression of which the art of French drama has tasked -itself to elaborate. The more realistic Englishman, whom we Germans too -have followed in more recent times, has, on the contrary, retained the -iambic metre, which Aristotle long ago defined as τὀ μάλιστα λεκτικὸν -τῶν μἐτρων[18] He has, however, not accepted the same in identical form -with the Greek trimeter, but substituted a measure of less pathetic -character, if capable of the greatest freedom of treatment. - -(_c_) _The Relation of the Dramatic Composition to the General Public._ - -Although the advantages or defects of diction and metre are important, -also, in epic and lyrical poetry, we must nevertheless ascribe a -more emphatic effect to them in dramatic compositions, in virtue of -the circumstance that we are in this case dealing with opinions, -characters, and actions which have to appear before us in all the -reality of life itself. A comedy of Calderon, for example, with all -the interplay of fantastic wit we may assume, embodied, however, in -the kind of diction we associate with this poet, with its logical -niceties and its bombast--subject, also, to all the variations of his -lyrical metres--would not, we may presume, on the simple ground of this -manner of expression, be likely to arouse any general sympathy. It is -on account of this visual presence and nearness of approach that the -other aspects of the content, apart from that of purely dramatic form, -are brought into a far more direct relation to the public before whom -they are reproduced. We should like shortly to explain the nature of -this. - -Scientific compositions and lyrical or epic poems either possess a -distinct public, whose interest in such works is associated with their -profession, or it is a matter of chance into what hands compositions -of this character may fall. If a book does not please anyone it can be -neglected, just as a man passes by the picture or statue that he does -not like; such works may, in fact, be held to carry to some extent -with them the author's admission that his book is not written for -such. The case is somewhat otherwise with dramatic works. Here we have -a distinct public for which the author has to cater, and he is under -certain obligations towards it. Such a public possesses the right of -applause no less than expressed displeasure; inasmuch as a work is -represented before it in its entirety, and the appeal is made that it -should be enjoyed, with sympathy in a given place and at a stated time. -A public of this sort, as in the case of any--other public jury, is -of a very varied character; it differs in its education, interests, -accustomed tastes, and hobbies, so that to secure complete success in -certain distinct respects a talent in the display of vulgar effect, or -at least a relative shame-facedness in regard to the finest demand of -genuine art, may be necessary. No doubt the dramatic poet has always -the alternative left him to despise his public. But in that case he -obviously fails to secure the very object for which dramatic writing -exists. With us Germans, to an exceptional extent, it has become the -fashion since the times of Tieck thus to scorn the public. Our German -play-writer will express his own particular individuality, but takes -no trouble to commend the result to his audience. The ideal of our -German egotism is quite the reverse, namely, that every man must turn -out something different to that of other people, in order that he -may prove his originality. It was owing, in part, to this that Tieck -and the brothers Schlegel, men who, from the very nature of their -sentimental irony, were quite unable to master the emotional forces -and intelligence of their nation and time, fell foul of Schiller, -and tried to blacken his poetical reputation on the ground that he -did among us Germans manage to strike the right key, and obtain a -popularity unsurpassed. With our neighbours, the French, we find the -opposite. Their authors write with the present effect on the public -always in view, which further, on its own account, is capable of being -a keener and less indulgent critic of the author, owing to the fact -that a more definite artistic taste is already fixed in France: with us -anarchy prevails, and everyone expresses his critical views, applauds -or condemns just as he likes, or as his opinions, emotion, and mood may -chance to dictate. - -Inasmuch, however, as it is an essential part of the definition of -the dramatic composition that it should possess the vitality able -to command a favourable popular reception, the dramatic poet should -submit to the conditions--quite apart, that is, from the accidental -circumstances or tendencies of the time--which are likely to secure -this result in an artistic form. What these are I will attempt to -explain, at least in their more general features. - -(_a_) Now, in the _first_ place, the ends, which in a dramatic work -come into conflict and are resolved out of such conflict, either -possess a general human interest, or at least have at bottom a pathos, -which is of a valid and substantive character for the people for whom -the poet creates his work. In such a case, however, the universal human -quality and what is more definitely national, in so far as either are -connected with the substance of dramatic collisions, may lie very -widely apart. Compositions, which stand in the national life, at the -very summit of their dramatic art and development, may consequently -quite fail to be appreciated by another age and nation. We find, for -example, in Hindoo lyrical poetry, even in our own time, much that -carries with it a real charm, tenderness, and fascinating sweetness. -The particular collision, however, around which the action in the -"Sakontala" revolves, in other words, the furious curse upon Sakontala -of the Brahman, because she does not see him, and omits to make her -obeisance, can only strike us as absurd, so much so in fact that, -despite all other excellences in this quite exceptionally beautiful -poem, we fail to discover any interest in the very culminating crisis -of the action. We may affirm very much the same thing of the way -in which the Spaniards treat the motive of personal honour with the -abstract severity of a logic, the brutality of which outrages most -deeply all our ideas and feelings. Let me recall, for example, the -attempt made by our own theatrical management to bring upon the stage -one of the less famous plays of Calderon entitled "Clandestine Revenge -for Clandestine Insult," an attempt condemned to failure from the first -on this ground. Another tragedy, which on similar lines portrays a -more profound human conflict, "The Physician of his own Honour," under -the changed title of "The Intrepid Prince," has after some revision -secured more leeway; but this, too, is handicapped by its abstract -and unyielding Catholic principle. Conversely, and in an opposite -direction, the Shakespearian tragedies and comedies are appreciated -by a public that is constantly increasing. We find here that, despite -all their nationality, the universal human interest is incomparably -greater. Shakespeare has only failed to secure an entrance where the -national conventions of art are so narrow and specific that they either -wholly exclude or materially weaken works of the Shakespearian type. A -similar position of advantage, such as that we allow to Shakespeare, -would be attributable to the tragedies of the ancients, if we did not, -apart from our changed habits in respect to scenic reproduction and -certain aspects of the national consciousness, make the further demand -of a profounder psychological penetration and a greater breadth of -particular characterization. So far, however, as the _subject-matter_ -of ancient tragedy is concerned, it could never at any time fail in -its effect. We may, therefore, broadly affirm that, in proportion as -a dramatic work accepts for its content wholly specific rather than -typical characters and passions, conditioned, that is, exclusively -by definite tendencies of a particular epoch of history, instead of -mainly concerning itself with human interests substantive in all times, -to that extent, despite of all its other advantages, it will be more -transitory. - -(_β_) And, _further_, it is necessary that universal human ends and -actions of this kind should emphasize their poetic individualization to -the point of animated life itself. Dramatic composition does not merely -address itself to our sense of vitality, a sense which even the public -certainly ought to possess, but it must itself, in all essentials, -offer a living actual presence of situations, conditions, characters, -and actions. - -(_αα_) I have already, in a previous passage of this work,[19] -entered into some detail relatively to the aspect of local -environment, customs, usages and other matters which affect the visual -representation of action. In this respect dramatic individualization -ought to be either so thoroughly poetical, vital, and rich with -interest that we can discount what is alien to our sense, and feel -ourselves attracted to the performance by this vital claim on our -attention, or it should not pretend to do more than present such -characteristics as external form, which is entirely outshone by the -spiritual and ideal characteristics which underlie it. - -(_ββ_) More important than this external aspect is the vitality of the -_dramatis personae._ Such ought not to be merely specific interests -personified, which is only too frequently the case at the hands -of modern dramatists. Such abstract impersonations of particular -passions and aims are wholly destitute of dramatic effect. A purely -superficial individualization is equally insufficient. Content and form -in such cases, as in the analogous type of allegorical figures, fail -to coalesce. Profound emotions and reflections, imposing ideas and -language offer no real compensation. Dramatic personality ought to be, -on the contrary, vital and self-identical throughout, a complete whole -in short, the opinions and characterization of which are consonant with -its aims and action. It is not the breadth of particular traits which -is here of first importance, but the permeating individuality, which -synthetically binds all in the central unity, which it in truth is, and -displays a given personality in speech and action as issuing from one -and the same living source, from which every characteristic, whether -it be of idea, deed or manner of behaviour, comes into being. That -which is merely an aggregate of different qualities and activities, -even though such be strung together in one string, will not give us -the vital character we require. This presupposes from the point of -view of the poet himself a creative activity which is instinct with -life and imagination. It is to the latter type, for instance, that -the characters of the Sophoclean tragedies belong, despite the fact -that they do not possess the variety of particular characteristics -which distinguish the epic heroes of Homer. Among later writers -Shakespeare and Goethe are pre-eminently famous for the vitality of -their characterization. The French, on the contrary, particularly -in their earlier dramatic compositions, appear to have been rather -content to excogitate characters that are little more than the formal -impersonations of general types and passions, than to have aimed at -giving us true and living persons. - -(_γγ_) But, _thirdly_, the task of dramatic creation is not completed -with the presentment of vital characterization. Goethe's Iphigeneia -and Tasso throughout are good enough examples of this poetic -excellence--and yet they are not, if we look at them more strictly, -by any means perfect examples of dramatic vitality and movement. It -is for this reason that Schiller long ago remarked of the Iphigeneia, -that in it is the ethical content, the heart experience, the personal -opinion which is made the object of the action, and is as such visually -reproduced. And unquestionably the display and expression of the -personal experience of different characters in definite situations -is not by itself sufficient; we must also have real emphasis laid -on the collision of the _ultimate ends_ involved, and the forward -and conflicting movement which such imply. Schiller is consequently -of the view that the movement of the Iphigeneia is not sufficiently -disturbed; we are permitted to linger within it too long and easily. He -even maintains that it without question inclines to the sphere of epic -composition, if we contrast it at least with any strict conception of -tragedy. In other words, dramatic effect is action simply as action; it -is not the exposition of personality alone, or practically independent -of the express purpose and its final achievement. In the Epos play -may be permitted to the breadth and variety of character, external -conditions, occurrences and events; in the drama, on the contrary, the -self-concentration of its principle is most asserted relatively to the -particular collision and its conflict. It is thus that we recognize -the truth of Aristotle's dictum,[20] that tragic action possesses two -sources (αἴτια δὐo), opinion and character (διάνoια καὶ ἦδoς), but what -is most important is the end (τέλoς), and individuals do not act in -order to display diverse characters, but these latter are united with a -common bond of imaginative conception to the former in the interest of -the action. - -(_γ_) As a matter for our _final_ consideration in this place there is -the relation in which the _poet_ is placed to the general public. Epic -poetry in its truly primitive state requires that the poet place wholly -on one side his distinctive personality in its contrast to his actually -objective work. He offers us the content of that and only that. The -lyric poet, on the contrary, deliberately expresses his own emotional -life and his personal views of the world. - -(_αα_) We might imagine that the poet must perforce withdraw himself -in the drama by reason of the very fact that he brings action before -us in its sensuous presence, and makes the characters speak and active -in their own names, to a greater extent than in the Epos, in which he -appears at any rate as narrator of the events. Such an impression is -only, however, very partially valid. For, as I have already contended, -the drama is exclusively referable in its origin to those epochs, in -which the personal self-consciousness, both relatively to the general -outlook on life and artistic culture, has already reached a high degree -of development. A dramatic composition therefore should not, as an -epic one does, present the appearance as though it originated from the -popular consciousness simply, for the display of which content the poet -is merely an instrument of expression which possesses no reference -to the poet's personal life; rather what we seek to recognize in the -complete work is quite as much the product of the self-aware and -original creative force, and by reason of this the art and virtuosity -of a genuine poetic personality. It is only thereby that dramatic -productions attain to the genuine excellence of their artistic vitality -and definition, as contrasted with the actions and events of natural -life. It is on this account that where the authorship of dramatic works -is a subject of controversy we find such to be nowhere more frequent -than where it concerns the primitive Epopaea. - -(_ββ_) From the opposite point of view the general public too, if it -has itself preserved a true sense of meaning of art, will not submit -to have placed before it in a drama the more accidental moods and -opinions, the peculiar tendencies and the one-sided outlook of this -or that individual, the expression of which is more appropriate to -the lyric poet. It has a right to demand that in the course and final -issue of the dramatic action, whether of tragedy or comedy, what is -fundamentally reasonable and true should be vindicated. Being myself -convinced of this I have in a previous passage given a place of first -importance to the demand that the dramatic poet must in the profoundest -sense make himself master of the essential significance of human -action and the divine order of the world, and along with this of a -power to unfold this eternal and essential foundation of all human -characters, passions and destinies in its clarity as also in its vital -truth. It is no doubt quite possible that a poet, in rising equal to -this demand upon his powers of penetration and artistic achievement, -may under particular circumstances find himself in conflict with -the restricted and uncultured ideas of his age and nation. In such -a case the responsibility for such a disunion does not rest with -himself, but is a burden the public ought to carry. He has the single -obligation to follow the lead of truth and his own compelling genius, -the ultimate victory of which, provided it is of the right quality, -is no less assured than that of ultimate truth itself universally. It -is impossible to define closely the limits within which a dramatic -poet is entitled to bring his actual personality before the public. I -will therefore merely recall attention to the fact in a general way -that in many periods of history dramatic poetry, no less than other -kinds, is induced to disseminate with a vital impulse novel ideas -upon politics, morals, poetry, religion, and the like. So early as -Aristophanes we have polemics in those comedies of his youth against -the domestic condition of Athens and the Peloponnesian war. Voltaire -again frequently endeavours in his dramatic works to popularize his -free thought principles. But above all worthy of notice is the effort -of our Lessing in his "Nathan" to vindicate his ethical faith against -the strait waistcoat of a blockish orthodoxy. In still more recent -times too Goethe has in his earliest works challenged the prose of our -German life and its defective views of art. Tieck has to some extent -followed his lead in this respect. Where personal views of the above -type are not only of superior worth, but are further not expressed in -such deliberate separation from the action of the drama as to make -the latter appear as a mere means for their exploitation, the claims -of true art are not likely to suffer injury. If, however, the freedom -of the composition is thereby impaired, though no doubt the poet may -possibly produce no inconsiderable impression on the public by his -introduction of his own predilections into his work; yet, however true -they may be, if they are at the same time unable to coalesce with the -work as an artistic whole the interest thereby aroused can only be -limited to the matters thus handled; it is in fact no true artistic -interest at all. The worst case of all is that, however, where a poet -with similar deliberation seeks, out of pure flattery and in order to -please, to give prominence to some popular prejudice which is entirely -false. His sins of commission are in that case twofold, not merely -against art, but truth no less. - -(_ββ_) One further remark may be perhaps admitted in this connection -to the effect that among the particular types of dramatic art a more -limited measure of indulgence is permitted to tragedy than to comedy -in this more free expatiation of the personality of the poet. In the -latter type the contingency and caprice of individual self-expression -is from the first agreeable to its main principle. Thus we find that -Aristophanes frequently makes matters of immediate interest to his -Athenian public the subject of his parabases. In portions of these -he gives free utterance to his own views upon contemporary events -and circumstances, and withal shrewd advice to his fellow citizens. -He is at other times concerned to defend himself from the attacks of -political opponents and his artistic rivals. Indeed there are passages -in which he deliberately eulogizes himself and his peculiarities. - - - - -2. THE EXTERNAL TECHNIQUE OF A DRAMATIC COMPOSITION - - -Poetry, alone among the arts, completely dispenses with the sensuous -medium of the objective world of phenomena. Inasmuch moreover as the -drama does not interpret to the imaginative vision the exploits of -the past, or express an ideal personal experience to mind and soul, -but rather is concerned to depict an action in all the reality of its -actual presence, it would fall into contradiction with itself if it -were forced to remain limited to the means, which poetry, simply as -such, is in a position to offer. The present action no doubt belongs -entirely to the personal self, and from this point of view complete -expression is possible through the medium of language. From an opposite -one, however, the movement of action is towards objective reality, and -it requires the complete man to express its movement in his corporeal -existence, deed and demeanour, as well as the physiognomical expression -of emotions and passions, and not only these on their own account, -but in their effect on other men, and the reactions which are thereby -brought into being. Moreover, in the display of individuality in its -actual presence, we require further an external environment, a specific -_locale_, in which such movement and action is achieved. Consequently -dramatic poetry, by virtue of the fact that no one of these aspects can -be permitted to remain in their immediate condition of contingency, -but have all to be reclothed in an artistic form as phases of fine -art itself, is compelled to avail itself of the assistance of pretty -well all the other arts. The surrounding scene is to some extent, -just as the temple is, an architectonic environment, and in part also -external Nature, both aspects being conceived and executed in pictorial -fashion. In this _locale_ the sculpturesque figures are presented with -the animation of life, and their volition and emotional states are -artistically elaborated, not merely by means of expressive recitation, -but also through a picturesque display of gesture and of posture and -movement, which, in its objective form, is inspired by the inward -soul-life. In this respect we may have brought home to us a distinction -which recalls a feature I have at an earlier stage indicated in the -sphere of music as the opposition implied in the arts of declamation -and melody. In other words, just as in declamatory music language in -its spiritual signification is the aspect of most importance, to the -characteristic expression of which the musical aspect is entirely -subordinate, whereas the movement of melody is unfolded freely on its -own account in its own specific medium, although it too is able to -assimilate the content of language--so also dramatic poetry, on the one -hand, avails itself of those sister arts merely as instrumental to a -material basis and environment, out of which the language of poetry is -in its free domination asserted as the commanding central focus, upon -and around which all else really revolves. From the further point of -view, however, that which in the first instance had merely the force of -an assistant and accompaniment, becomes an object on its own account, -and receives the appearance in its own domain of an essentially -independent beauty. Declamation passes into song, action into the mimic -of the dance, and scenery in its splendour and pictorial fascination -itself puts forward a claim to artistic perfection. - -In contrasting, then, a contrast frequently insisted upon, and more -particularly in recent times, poetry in its simplicity with the -external dramatic execution such as we have above described, we -may continue the course of our review under the following heads of -discussion. - -_First,_ there is the dramatic poetry, whose object is to restrict -itself to the ordinary ground of poetry, and consequently does not -contemplate the theatrical representation of its productions. - -_Secondly_, we have the genuine art of the theatre, to the extent that -is in which it is limited to recitation, play of pose and action, under -the modes in which the language of the poet is able throughout to -remain the definitive and decisive factor. - -_Lastly_, there is that type of reproduction, which admits the -employment of every means of scenery, music and dance, and suffers the -same to assert an independent position as against the dramatic language. - -(_a_) _The Reading and Recitation of Dramatical Compositions._ - -The true sensuous medium or instrument of dramatic poetry is, as we -have seen, not only the human voice and the spoken word, but the entire -man, who not merely expresses emotions, ideas, and thoughts, but, as -vitally absorbed in a concrete action, in virtue of all that he is -influences the ideas, designs, the action and behaviour of others, -experiences similar effects on himself, or maintains his independent -opposition to them. - -(_α_) In contrast to such a definite view, which is based upon the -essential character of dramatic poetry itself, it is a feature of -modern notions on the subject, particularly so among ourselves, -to regard the organization of drama with a view to its theatrical -reproduction as unessential and subsidiary, although as a fact all -dramatic authors, even when they adopt this attitude of indifference -and contempt, entertain the wish and hope to see their compositions -on the stage. The result is that the greater number of more recent -dramas are unable ever to find a stage, and the simple reason of this -is that they are undramatical. We are not of course, therefore, in a -position to deny that a dramatic composition may satisfy the conditions -of genuine poetry in virtue of its intrinsic worth. What we affirm is -that it is only to an action, the dramatic course of which is admirably -adapted to theatrical representation, that we are to attribute such -intrinsic dramatic worth. The best authority for such a statement is -supplied by the Greek tragedies. It is true that we no longer see these -on the contemporary stage, but they do nevertheless, if we regard the -facts more closely, completely satisfy us to a real extent precisely on -this ground that they were written without reserve for the theatre of -their day. What has banished them from the theatre of today is not so -much the character of their dramatic organization, which differs mainly -from that of to-day in its employment of the chorus, as in the nature -of national predilections and conditions, upon which for the most part, -if we consider their content, they are based, and in which owing to the -distance in which they are placed relatively to our own contemporary -life we are unable now to feel ourselves at home. The malady of -Philoctetes, for instance, the loathsome ulcer on his foot, his -ejaculations and outcries, are as little likely to awaken the genuine -interest of a modern audience as the arrows of Hercules, about which -the main course of that drama revolves. In a similar way, though we may -admit the barbaric cruelty of the human sacrifice in the Iphigeneia -in Aulis and Tauris in an opera, we find it absolutely necessary in -tragedy at any rate that this aspect should be wholly revised as Goethe -has in fact done. - -(_β_) The difference, however, thus indicated between ancient and -modern customs, which effects the mere perusal of such works, no -less than the complete and vital reproduction of them as a whole, has -had the further effect of pointing out to us another by-way, in which -poets to some extent deliberately fashion their work exclusively for -the reader's perusal, and in a manner by which the difficulty above -indicated no longer affects the character of such compositions. There -are no doubt in this connection isolated points of view, which merely -refer to features of external form, which are implied in the so-called -knowledge of the stage, and an indifference as to which does not lessen -the poetical worth of a dramatical production. To these belong, for -example, the careful regulation of the scenic arrangements, that one -scene can follow without difficulty after another, though it requires -great alterations in the scenery, or that the actor is given sufficient -time to make the necessary change of costume, or to recover from his -previous exertions. A knowledge and aptitude of this nature is neither -indicative of any poetical superiority or the reverse; they rather -depend upon the naturally varying and conventional arrangements of -the theatre. There are, however, other features relatively to which -the poet, in order to be truly dramatical, must have the animated -reproduction visibly present in its substance, must make his _dramatis -personae_ speak and act conformably thereto, that is, in complete -congruity with an actually present realization. Viewed in this light -theatrical reproduction is a real test. For in the presence of the -supreme court of appeal of a sound and artistic public the mere -speeches and tirades of our so-called exquisite diction, if dramatic -truth is not thereby asserted, will not hold water. There are periods, -no doubt, in which the public also is corrupted by the culture it is -the fashion so highly to praise, I mean by heads generally overstocked -with the current opinions and fancies of the connoisseur and critic. -Let it however only retain its own essentially sterling commonsense, -and it will only be satisfied in those cases where characters express -themselves and act precisely as the reality of life no less than -art demands and necessitates. If the poet, on the contrary, writes -exclusively for the single reader he very readily gets no further -than making his characters speak and behave much as they might do in -an epistolary correspondence. If any one thus gives us the reasons -for his aims and what he does, or unbares his heart in any other -respect, instead of that which we should at once remark thereupon we -get between the receipt of the letter and our immediate reply time -for all kinds of reflection and idea. The imagination opens in this -case a wide field of possibilities. In the _actually present_ speech -and rejoinder we have to presuppose that as between man and man the -volition and heart, the movement of feeling and decision are more -direct, that in short the dialogue passes on without any such recourse -to considerable reflection, but at once from soul to soul, as eye to -eye, mouth to mouth, and ear to ear. Only in such a case the actions -and speeches are expressed with life from the actual personality, who -has no time left him to make a careful selection from one out of many -possibilities. Under this view of the case it is not unimportant for -the poet throughout his composition to keep his eye on the stage, which -renders such a direct type of animation necessary. Nay, for myself -I go to the length of maintaining that no dramatic work ought to be -printed, but rather, as no doubt with the ancients, it should belong to -the stage repertory in manuscript form,[21] and only receive quite an -insignificant circulation. We should at least in that case limit very -considerably the present superabundance of dramas, which it is possible -possess the speech of culture, fine sentiments, excellent reflections, -and profound thoughts, but which are defective in the very direction -which makes a drama dramatical, that is, in the display of action, and -the vital movement which belongs to it. - -(_γ_) In the mere _perusal_ and _reading aloud_ of dramatic -compositions we find a difficulty in deciding whether they are of -a type which would produce the due effect from the stage. Even -Goethe, whose experience of stage management in his later years was -exceptional, was far from being dependable on this head, a result no -doubt mainly due to the extraordinary confusion of our public taste, -which is able to accept with approval almost anything and everything. -If the character and object of the _dramatis personae_ are on their -own account great and substantive the manner of composition no doubt -presents less difficulty. But as regards the motive force of interests, -the various phases in the progress of the action, the suspended -interest and development of situations, the just degree in which -characters assert their effect on each other, the appropriate force -and truth of their demeanour and speech--in all such respects the mere -perusal unassisted by a theatrical performance can only in the rarest -cases arrive at a reliable decision. Reading a work aloud is only under -great qualification a further assistance. Speech in drama requires -the presence of separate individuals. The delivery of _one voice_, -however artistically it may adapt itself to different shades of tone -in alternate or varying change is insufficient. Add to this the fact -that in reading aloud we are throughout confronted with the difficulty -whether on every occasion the persons speaking should be mentioned or -not. Both alternations are equally open to objection. If the delivery -is that of one voice the statement of the names of the characters -speaking becomes an indispensable condition of intelligibility, but by -doing so the expression of pathos throughout suffers violence. If, on -the other hand, the delivery is vitally dramatic, and we are carried -thereby into the actual situation, a further kind of contradiction -can hardly fail to appear. For with the satisfaction of our sense of -hearing that of sight puts forward a certain claim of its own. For -when we listen to an action we desire to see the acting persons, their -demeanour and surroundings; the eye craves for a completed vision, and -finds instead before it merely a reciter, who sits or stands peacefully -in a private house with company. Reading aloud or recitation is -consequently always an unsatisfying compromise between the unambitious -pretensions of private perusal, in which the aspect of realization is -absent entirely and all is left to the imagination, and the complete -theatrical presentation. - -(_b_) _The Art of the Actor_ - -In conjunction with actual dramatic reproduction there is along with -music a second practical art, namely, that of _acting_, the complete -development of which belongs entirely to more recent times. Its -principle consists in this, that while it summons to its assistance -dramatic posture, action, declamation, music, dance, and scenery, -it accepts as the predominant mark of its effort human speech and -its poetical expression. And this is for poetry in its simplest -significance the exclusively just relation. For if mere mimicry or song -or dance once begin to assume an independent position of their own, -poetry viewed as a fine and creative art is degraded to the position -of an instrument, and loses its ascendancy over the in other respects -accompanying arts. We will venture to point out a few characteristic -distinctions in this connection. - -(_α_) The primary phase of the art of acting is to be found among -the Greeks. Here, as one aspect of the matter, the art of speech is -affiliated with that of sculpture. The acting _dramatis personae_ -stands before us as an objective figure in his entire bodily -realization. In so far as here this statuesque figure is animated, -assimilates and expresses the content of the poetry, enters into every -movement of personal passion and at the same time asserts it through -word and voice, this presentation is more animated and more spiritually -transparent than any statue or picture. - -As to this quality of living animation we may draw a distinction -between two distinct ways of regarding it. - -(_αα_) _First_, there is declamation in the sense of artistic speech. -Declamation was not carried far among the Greeks; intelligibility is -here what is of most importance. We desire to recognize in the tone of -the voice and in the quality of the recitations the characterization -of soul-life in its finest shades and transitions, as also in its -oppositions and contrasts, in short, in its entire concreteness. -The ancients, on the contrary, added a musical accompaniment to -declamation, partly to emphasize rhythm, and in part to increase -the modulation of the verbal expression. At the same time it is -probable that the dialogue was either not at all or only very lightly -accompanied. To the reproduction of the choruses, however, the lyric -association of music was essential. It is highly probable that -singing, by means of its more definite accentuation of the meaning of -the language used in the choice strophes and antistrophes, made the -same more intelligible; only under such an assumption can I myself -understand how it was possible for a Greek audience to follow the -choruses of either Æschylus or Sophocles. I admit that such choruses -might not necessarily present to a Greek all the difficulties _we_ -ourselves experience; at the same time I confess that, though I know -the German language well and am not wholly destitute of imagination, -German lyrics written in the same style, if declaimed from the stage, -even with the full accompaniment of song, would still be far from -wholly intelligible. - -(_ββ_) A _further_ means of interpretation is supplied by the pose and -movement of the body. In this respect it is worth noticing that with -the Greeks the play of facial expression is entirely absent, by reason -of the fact that their actors wore masks. The facial contour returned -an unalterable sculpturesque image, the plastic outlines of which were -as unable to assimilate the varied expression of particular states -of soul, as to reproduce the acting characters, which fought through -a pathos securely fixed and universal in the nature of its dramatic -conflict, and neither deepened the substance of this pathos to the -ideal intensity of our modern emotional life, nor suffered it to expand -into all the particularization of the world of dramatic individualities -now in vogue. The action was equally simple, for which reason we do -not possess any tradition of famous Greek mimes. Sometimes the poet -himself was actor; both Sophocles and Aristophanes are examples. To -some extent the mere citizen, who was not strictly a professional actor -at all, took a part in tragedy. As a set-off to such difficulties the -choric songs were accompanied with the dance, a procedure which can -only appear frivolous to us Germans in the view we generally take of -the dance. With the Greeks it belonged as an essential feature to their -theatrical performances. - -(_γγ_) To summarize, then, we find that among the ancients not only -was the poetical claim of language, and the intelligible expression -of general emotional states, freely admitted, but also the external -realization received the most complete elaboration by means of musical -accompaniment and the dance. A concrete unity of this kind gives to -the entire presentation a plastic character. What is spiritual is not -on its own account idealized as part of a personal soul-life, nor is -it expressed under such a mode of particularization; the main effect -is to bring about its complete affiliation and reconciliation with the -external aspect of sensuous appearance whose correspondent claim is -equally recognized. - -(_β_) In rivalry with music and the dance speech suffers injury, in so -far as it ought to remain the _spiritual_ expression of spirit. Our -modern art of the theatre has consequently succeeded in liberating -itself from such features. The poet is by this means exclusively placed -in a relation to the actor simply, who, by his declamation, play of -facial expression, and posture, has to represent to vision the poetical -work. This relation of the author to the external material is, however, -in its contrast to other arts, quite unique. In painting and sculpture -it is the artist himself, who executes his conceptions in colour, -bronze, or marble; and although musical execution is dependent upon -the hands and voices of others, yet the feature thus added, albeit, of -course, the element of soul in the delivery ought not to be absent, -is none the less, to a more or less degree, overwhelmingly mechanical -technique and virtuosity.[22] The actor, on the contrary, appears -before us in the entire personality which combines his bodily presence, -physiognomy, voice, and so forth, and it is his function to coalesce -absolutely with the character he portrays. - -(_αα_) In this respect the poet has the right to demand of the actor -that he enters with all his faculties into the part he receives, -without adding thereto anything peculiar to himself, that, in short, he -acts in complete consonance with the creative conception and means of -its display supplied by the poet. The actor ought, in fact, to be the -instrument upon which the author plays, an artist's brush which absorbs -all colours and returns the same unchanged. Among the ancients this was -more easily achieved for the reason that declamation, as above stated, -was mainly restricted to clarity of meaning, and music looked after -the aspect of rhythm, while masks concealed the faces, and, moreover, -not much scope was left to the action. Consequently, the actor could -without real difficulty conform in his delivery to a universal tragic -pathos; and although too, in comedy, portraits of living people such -as Socrates, Nicias, Creon, and so forth, had to be represented, in a -real measure the masks reproduced characteristic traits with sufficient -force, and further we should note that a detailed individualization -was less necessary, inasmuch as the comic poets, as a rule, merely -introduced such characters in order to represent general tendencies of -the time. - -(_ββ_) The position is different in the modern theatre. Here, to start -with, we have no masks or musical accompaniment, but have instead of -these the play of facial expression, the variety of pose, and a richly -modulated style of declamation. For, on the one hand, human passions, -even when they are expressed by the poet in a more general and typical -characterization, have none the less to be asserted as part of an inner -and personal life; and for the rest our modern characters receive, -for the most part, a far more extended compass of particularization, -the distinctively appropriate expression of which has in the same way -to be placed before us with all the animation of present life. The -characters of Shakespeare are, above all, entire men, standing before -us in distinctively unique personality, so that we require of our -actors that they, for their part, give us back the entire impression of -such complete creations. There is no specific rôle here that does not -require a definite kind of expression fitted to it, and which covers -in fact every feature of its display, whether we regard that which we -cannot see or that which we do, whether it be in the tone of the voice, -the mode of delivery, gesticulation, or facial expression. For this -reason, apart from the nature of the dialogue, the varied character -of the pose and gesture, through every possible shade, receives an -entirely new significance. In fact, the modern poet leaves to the actor -self-expression here much that the ancients would have expressed in -words. Take the example of the final scene of Wallenstein. The old -Octavio has assisted materially in the downfall of Wallenstein. He -finds him treacherously murdered by the machinations of Buttler, and at -the very moment when the Countess Terzky makes the announcement that -she has taken poison, an imperial letter arrives. Gordon, after reading -the same, hands it to Octavio with a glance of reproach, adding the -words, "To the Lord Piccolomini." Octavio is confounded, and, pained -to the heart, glances heavenwards. That which Octavio experiences in -this reward for a service, for the bloody issue of which he himself is -mainly responsible, is in this passage not expressed in so many words, -but is left solely to the gesture of the actor. - -(_γγ_) Owing to demands of this kind made by our modern art of -acting, poetry may, relatively to the material of its presentation, -not unfrequently opens up difficulties unknown to the ancients. In -other words, the actor, being the man he is, possesses, in respect -to voice, figure, physiognomical expression, as everybody else, his -native peculiarities, which he is compelled to set on one side, either -owing to their incompatibility with a pathos of universal import and a -really typical characterization, or to bring them into harmony with the -more complete personalities of a type of poetry rich in its power of -individualization. - -Actors claim the title of artists, and receive all the honours of an -artistic profession. According to our modern ideas, no taint of any -sort, whether ethical or social, is implied in the fact of being a -dramatic actor. This view is the right one. The profession demands -conspicuous talent, intelligence, perseverance, energy, practice, -knowledge, and, indeed, its highest attainment is impossible without -the rare qualities of genius. The actor has not only to assimilate -profoundly the spirit of the poet and the part he accepts, and to make -his own individuality conform entirely to the same, both inwardly and -outwardly; he has, over and above this, in many respects to supplement -the part with his own creative insight, to fill in gaps, to discover -modes of transition, and generally, by his performance, to interpret -the poet by making visibly and vitally present and intelligible -meanings which lie beneath the surface, or the less obvious touches of -a master's hand. - -(_c_) _The Theatrical Art which is more Independent of Poetical -Composition_ - -Finally, we shall have that further, or _third_ aspect of the art in -its actual employment, where it liberates itself from the exclusive -precedency of articulate poetry, and accepts as an independent end -what was previously, to a more or less extent, a mere accompaniment -or instrument, and elaborates the same on its own account. To carry -out this emancipation, music and the dance are quite as much essential -features of the dramatic development as the art of the actor simply. - -(_α_) In respect to this change in the art, there are broadly speaking -two systems. The first, according to which the performer tends to -be simply in spirit and body the living instrument of the poet, we -have already referred to. The French, who make much of professional -rôles[23] and schools, and are, as a rule, more typical in their -theatrical representations, have shown an exceptional fidelity to this -system in their tragedy and _haute comédie_. What we may define here -as the position of the art of acting reversed consists in this, that -the entire creation of the poet now tends to be purely an appendage -or frame to and for the natural endowment, technical ability, and -art of the actor. It is by no means uncommon to hear actors make the -demand that poets should write expressly for them. The soul function -of poetical composition is, in this view, to give the artist an -opportunity to display and unfold in all its brilliance his emotional -powers and art, to let us see the final outcome of his particular -individuality. Among the Italians, the _commedia dell' arte_ belongs -to this type. Here, no doubt, we have certain definite types of -character such as those of the _arlecchino_, _dottore_, and the like, -with appropriate situations and series of scenes; the more detailed -execution is, however, almost entirely left to the discretion of the -actors. Among ourselves, the dramatic pieces of Iffland and Kotzebue, -and many others besides, though in large measure regarded as poetry, -unimportant or even bad compositions, nevertheless offer such an -opportunity for the creative powers of the actor, who is compelled to -initiate and shape something from such generally sketchy and artificial -productions, which on account of a vital and independent performance -of this kind receives a unique interest exclusively united to one and -no other artist. It is here, more especially, that we find our much -belauded realistic effects are displayed, a style carried to such -lengths that a mere mumble and whisper of articulate speech, quite -impossible to follow, will pass as an admirable performance. In protest -to such a style, Goethe translated Voltaire's "Tancred" and "Mahomet" -for the Weimar stage, in order to compel its actors to drop this -vulgar naturalism, and accustom themselves to a more noble exposition. -And this is invariably the case with the French, who, even in all -the animation of the farce, always keep the audience in view, and -throughout address themselves to it. As a matter of fact, mere realism -and imitation of our everyday expression is as little exhaustive of -the real problem as the mere intelligibility and clever use made of -characterization. If an actor seeks to produce a really artistic effect -in such cases, he will have to extend his powers to a genial virtuosity -similar to that I have described already in a previous passage when -referring to musical execution.[24] - -(_β_) A _second_ province belonging to the type under consideration -is that of the modern _opera_, in the direction, at least, which -it more and more is inclined to take. In other words, although in -opera, generally speaking, the music is of most importance, which of -course possesses a content in partnership with the poetry and the -libretto, albeit it treats and executes the same freely as it thinks -best, yet in more recent times, and particularly among ourselves, -it has become increasingly an affair of luxurious display. It has -carried its _accessoires_, in the splendour of its decorations, the -pomp of its costumes, the completeness of its choruses and their -grouping, to a degree of independence that throws all else into the -shade. It was a magnificence of this kind, sufficiently criticized -among ourselves, which Cicero long ago complains of when referring -to Roman tragedy. In tragedy, where the poetry is always the most -essential thing, such a lavish display of the sensuous side of things -is no doubt not in its right place, although Schiller, in his "Maid -of Orleans," shows a tendency here to run astray. In the opera, on -the contrary, with its sensuous exuberance of song and the melodic, -thundering chorus of voices and instruments, we may with more reason -admit such an emphasized charm of external embellishment and display. -If the decorations are splendid, then the groups and processions, to -give point to them, must be equally gorgeous, and everything else must -be adapted to the same scale. The subject most suited to a sensuous -luxuriance of this kind, which, no doubt, is always some indication -of the decline of genuine art, is that part of the entire performance -which inclines to the wonderful, fantastic, or fairy tale. Mozart, in -his "Magic Flute," has supplied us with an example which is not too -extravagant, and is worked out on completely artistic lines. At the -same time, we may entirely exhaust all the arts of scenic display, -costume, instrumentation and the rest, but the fact remains that, if we -are not really in earnest with that part of the content which concerns -real dramatic action, the impression upon us can be at the strongest -merely that of a perusal of the fairy-tale of "The Thousand and One -Nights." - -(_γ_) The same observations apply to the modern _Ballet_, which above -all is most suited to fairy-land and miracle of all kinds. Here, too, -we note as one supreme feature, quite apart from the picturesque -beauty of the grouping and tableaux, the kaleidoscopic splendour and -fascination of the decorations, costumes, and lighting, to an extent -that ordinary persons find themselves transported into a world in -which common sense and the laws and pressure of our daily life vanish -altogether. As a further aspect of these performances, connoisseurs -in such subjects will go into ecstacies over the elaborately trained -dexterity and virtuosity of legs, which is nowadays an essential -feature of the dance. If, however, any more spiritual significance is -to flash athwart such mere physical agility, which we have reduced -to the final ultimatum of senselessness and ideal poverty, we ought -to have associated with the complete command over all the executive -difficulties implied a real measure and euphony of movement, a freedom -and grace such as finds a response in the soul; and it is only very -rarely that we do so. As a further element in association with the -dance here, which stands in the place of the choruses and solos of -the opera, we find as real expression of action the Pantomime. This, -however, in proportion as our modern dance has advanced in technical -dexterity, has fallen from the rank which it once possessed, and, -indeed, has so deteriorated that the very thing tends once more to drop -out of the modern ballet altogether, which is alone able to lift the -same into the free domain of art. - - -3. THE TYPES OF DRAMATIC POETRY AND THE PRINCIPAL PHASES OF THEIR -HISTORICAL DEVELOPMENT. - - -Viewing for a moment the course of our present inquiry in retrospect, -it will be seen that we have, _first,_ established the principle of -dramatic poetry in its widest and more specific characteristics, -and, further, in its relation to the general public. _Secondly_, we -deduced from the fact of the drama's presenting an action distinct and -independent in its actually visible development the conclusion that a -fully complete sensuous reproduction is also essential, such as is for -the first time possible under artistic conditions in the theatrical -performance. In order that the action, however, may adapt itself to an -external realization of this kind, it is necessary that both in poetic -conception and detailed execution it should be absolutely definite -and complete. This is only effected, our _third_ point, by resolving -dramatic poetry into _particular types_, receiving their typical -character, which is in part one of opposition and also one of mediatory -relation to such opposition, from the distinction, in which not only -the end but also the characters, as also the conflict and entire result -of the action, are manifested. The most important aspects emphasized -by such distinction and subject to an historical development are those -peculiar to tragedy and comedy respectively, as also the comparative -value of either mode of composition. This inquiry in dramatic poetry is -for the first time so essentially important that it forms the basis of -classification for the different types. - -In considering more closely the nature of these distinctions we shall -do well to discuss their subject-matter in the following order. - -_First_, we must define the general principle of tragedy, comedy, and -the so-called drama. - -_Secondly_, we must indicate the character of ancient and modern -dramatic poetry, to the contrast between which the distinctive relation -of the above-named types is referable in their historical development. - -_Thirdly_, we will attempt, in conclusion, to examine the concrete -modes, which these types, though mainly comedy and tragedy, are able to -exhibit within the boundary of this opposition. - -(_a_) _The Principle of Tragedy, Comedy, and the Drama, or Social Play_ - -The essential basis of differentiation among the types of epic poetry -is to be found in the distinction whether the essentially substantive -displayed in the epic manner is expressed in its universality, or -is communicated in the form of objective characters, exploits, and -events. In contrast to this, the classification of lyric poetry, in -its series of varied modes of expression, is dependent upon the degree -and specific form in which the content is assimilated in more or -less stable consistency with the soul experience, according as such -content asserts this intimate life. And, finally, dramatic poetry, -which accepts as its centre of significance the collision of aims and -characters, as also the necessary resolution of such a conflict, cannot -do otherwise than deduce the principle of its separate types from the -relation in which _individual persons_ are placed relatively to their -purpose and its content. The definition of this relation is, in short, -the decisive factor in the determination of the particular mode of -dramatic schism and the issue therefrom, and consequently presents -the essential type of the entire process in its animated and artistic -display. The fundamental points we have to examine in this connection -are, speaking broadly, those phases or features in the process, the -mediation of which constitutes the essential purport of every true -action. Such are from one point of view the substantively sound and -great, the fundamental stratum of the realized divine nature in the -world, regarded here as the genuine and essentially eternal content -of individual character and end. And, on its other side, we have the -_personal conscious life_ simply as such in its unhampered power of -self-determination and freedom. Without doubt, essential and explicit -truth is asserted in dramatic poetry; it matters not in what form it -may be manifested from time to time in human action. The specific type, -however, within which this activity is made visible receives a distinct -or, rather, actually opposed configuration, according as the aspect -of substantive worth or in its opposition thereto, that of individual -caprice, folly, and perversity is retained as the distinctive _modus_ -of operation either in individuals, actions, or conflicts. - -We have therefore to consider the principle in its distinctive relation -to the following types: - -_First_, as associated with tragedy in its substantive and primitive -form. - -_Secondly_, in its relation to comedy, in which the life of the -individual soul as such in volition and action, as well as the external -factor of contingency, are predominant over all relations and ends. - -_Thirdly_, in that to the drama, the theatrical piece in the more -restricted use of the term, regarding such as the middle term between -the two first-mentioned types. - -(_α_) With respect to _tragedy_, I will here confine myself to a -consideration of only the most general and essential characteristics, -the more concrete differentiation of which can only be made clear by -a review of the distinctive features implied in the stages of its -historical process. - -(_αα_) The genuine content of tragic action subject to the _aims_ which -arrest tragic characters is supplied by the world of those forces -which carry in themselves their own justification, and are realized -substantively in the volitional activity of mankind. Such are the love -of husband and wife, of parents, children, and kinsfolk. Such are, -further, the life of communities, the patriotism of citizens, the will -of those in supreme power. Such are the life of churches, not, however, -if regarded as a piety which submits to act with resignation, or as a -divine judicial declaration in the heart of mankind over what is good -or the reverse in action; but, on the contrary, conceived as the active -engagement with and demand for veritable interests and relations. -It is of a soundness and thoroughness consonant with these that the -really tragical _characters_ consist. They are throughout that which -the essential notion of their character enables them and compels them -to be. They are not merely a varied totality laid out in the series -of views of it proper to the epic manner; they are, while no doubt -remaining also essentially vital and individual, still only the one -power of the particular character in question, the force in which such -a character, in virtue of its essential personality, has made itself -inseparably coalesce with some particular aspect of the capital and -substantive life-content we have indicated above, and deliberately -commits himself to that. It is at some such elevation, where the mere -accidents of unmediated[25] individuality vanish altogether, that we -find the tragic heroes of dramatic art, whether they be the living -representatives of such spheres of concrete life or in any other way -already so derive their greatness and stability from their own free -self-reliance that they stand forth as works of sculpture, and as such -interpret, too, under this aspect the essentially more abstract statues -and figures of gods, as also the lofty tragic characters of the Greeks -more completely than is possible for any other kind of elucidation or -commentary. - -Broadly speaking, we may, therefore, affirm that the true theme of -primitive tragedy is the godlike.[26] But by godlike we do not mean -the Divine, as implied in the content of the religious consciousness -simply as such, but rather as it enters into the world, into -individual action, and enters in such a way that it does not forfeit -its substantive character under this mode of realization, nor find -itself converted into the contradiction of its own substance.[27] In -this form the spiritual substance of volition and accomplishment is -ethical life.[28] For what is ethical, if we grasp it, in its direct -consistency--that is to say, not exclusively from the standpoint of -personal reflection as formal morality--is the divine in its secular or -world realization, the substantive as such, the particular no less than -the essential features of which supply the changing content of truly -human actions, and in such action itself render this their essence -explicit and actual. - -(_ββ_) These ethical forces, as also the characters of the action, -are _distinctively defined_ in respect to their content and their -individual personality, in virtue of the principle of differentiation -to which everything is subject, which forms part of the objective world -of things. If, then, these particular forces, in the way presupposed -by dramatic poetry, are attached to the external expression of human -activity, and are realized as the determinate aim of a human pathos -which passes into action, their concordancy is cancelled, and they are -asserted _in contrast_ to each other in interchangeable succession. -Individual action will then, under given conditions, realize an object -or character, which, under such a presupposed state, inevitably -stimulates the presence of a pathos[29] opposed to itself, because it -occupies a position of unique isolation in virtue of its independently -fixed definition, and, by doing so, brings in its train unavoidable -conflicts. Primitive tragedy, then, consists in this, that within a -collision of this kind both sides of the contradiction, if taken by -themselves, are _justified_; yet, from a further point of view, they -tend to carry into effect the true and positive content of their end -and specific characterization merely as the negation and _violation_ of -the other equally legitimate power, and consequently in their ethical -purport and relatively to this so far fall under _condemnation._ - -I have already adverted to the general ground of the necessity of -this conflict. The substance of ethical condition is, when viewed -as concrete unity, a totality of _different_ relations and forces, -which, however, only under the inactive condition of the gods in -their blessedness achieve the works of the Spirit in enjoyment of -an undisturbed life. In contrast to this, however, there is no less -certainly implied in the notion of this totality itself an impulse -to move from its, in the first instance, still abstract ideality, -and transplant itself in the real actuality of the phenomenal world. -On account of the nature of this primitive obsession,[30] it comes -about that mere difference, if conceived on the basis of definite -conditions of individual personalities, must inevitably associate with -contradiction and collision. Only such a view can pretend to deal -seriously with those gods which, though they endure in their tranquil -repose and unity in the Olympus and heaven of imagination and religious -conception, yet, in so far as they are actual,[31] viewed at least as -the energic in the definite pathos of a human personality, participate -in concrete life, all other claims notwithstanding, and, in virtue of -their specific singularity and their mutual opposition, render both -blame and wrong inevitable. - -(_γγ_) As a result of this, however, an unmediated contradiction is -posited, which no doubt may assert itself in the Real, but, for all -that, is unable to maintain itself as that which is wholly substantive -and verily real therein; which rather discovers, and only discovers, -its essential justification in the fact that it is able to _annul_ -itself as such contradiction. In other words, whatever may be the -claim of the tragic final purpose and personality, whatever may be -the necessity of the tragic collision, it is, as a consequence of our -present view, no less a claim that is asserted--this is our _third_ -and last point--by the tragic resolution of this division. It is -through _this_ latter result that Eternal Justice is operative in such -aims and individuals under a mode whereby it restores the ethical -substance and unity in and along with the downfall of the individuality -which disturbs its repose. For, despite the fact that individual -characters propose that which is itself essentially valid, yet they -are only able to carry it out under the tragic demand in a manner that -implies contradiction and with a onesidedness which is injurious. -What, however, is substantive in truth, and the function of which -is to secure realization, is not the battle of particular unities, -however much such a conflict is essentially involved in the notion -of a real world and human action; rather it is the reconciliation in -which definite ends and individuals unite in harmonious action without -mutual violation and contradiction. That which is abrogated in the -tragic issue is merely the _one-sided_ particularity which was unable -to accommodate itself to this harmony, and consequently in the tragic -course of its action, through inability to disengage itself from -itself and its designs, either is committed in its entire totality -to destruction or at least finds itself compelled to fall back upon -a state of resignation in the execution of its aim in so far as it -can carry this out. We are reminded of the famous dictum of Aristotle -that the true effect of tragedy is to excite and purify _fear_ and -_pity._ By this statement Aristotle did not mean merely the concordant -or discordant feeling with anybody's private experience, a feeling -simply of pleasure or the reverse, an attraction or a repulsion, that -most superficial of all psychological states, which only in recent -times theorists have sought to identify with the principle of assent -or dissent as ordinarily expressed. For in a work of art the matter of -exclusive importance should be the display of that which is conformable -with the reason and truth of Spirit; and to discover the principle -of this we have to direct our attention to wholly different points -of view. And consequently we are not justified in restricting the -application of this dictum of Aristotle merely to the emotion of fear -and pity, but should relate it to the principle of the _content_ the -appropriately artistic display of which ought to purify such feelings. -Man may, on the one hand, entertain fear when confronted with that -which is outside him and finite; but he may likewise shrink before the -power of that which is the essential and absolute subsistency of social -phenomena.[32] That which mankind has therefore in truth to fear is -not the external power and its oppression, but the ethical might which -is self-defined in its own free rationality, and partakes further of -the eternal and inviolable, the power a man summons against his own -being when he turns his back upon it. And just as fear may have two -objectives, so also too compassion. The first is just the ordinary -sensibility--in other words, a sympathy with the misfortunes and -sufferings of another, and one which is experienced as something finite -and negative. Your countrified cousin is ready enough with compassion -of this order. The man of nobility and greatness, however, has no wish -to be smothered with this sort of pity. For just to the extent that -it is merely the nugatory aspect, the negative of misfortune which is -asserted, a real depreciation of misfortune is implied. True sympathy, -on the contrary, is an accordant feeling with the ethical claim at -the same time associated with the sufferer--that is, with what is -necessarily implied in his condition as affirmative and substantive. -Such a pity as this is not, of course, excited by ragamuffins and -vagabonds. If the tragic character, therefore, just as he aroused our -fear when contemplating the might of violated morality, is to awake a -tragic sympathy in his misfortune, he must himself essentially possess -real capacity and downright character. It is only that which has a -genuine content which strikes the heart of a man of noble feeling, and -rings through its depths. Consequently we ought by no means to identify -our interest in the tragic _dénouement_ with the simple satisfaction -that a sad story, a misfortune merely as misfortune, should have a -claim upon our sympathy. Feelings of lament of this type may well -enough assail men on occasions of wholly external contingency and -related circumstance, to which the individual does not contribute, nor -for which he is responsible, such cases as illness, loss of property, -death, and the like. The only real and absorbing interest in such -cases ought to be an eager desire to afford immediate assistance. If -this is impossible, such pictures of lamentation and misery merely -rack the feelings. A veritable tragic suffering, on the contrary, is -suspended over active characters entirely as the consequence of their -own act, which as such not only asserts its claim upon us, but becomes -subject to blame through the collision it involves, and in which such -individuals identify themselves heart and soul. - -Over and above mere fear and tragic sympathy we have therefore the -feeling of _reconciliation_, which tragedy is vouched for in virtue of -its vision of eternal justice, a justice which exercises a paramount -force of absolute constringency on account of the relative claim of all -merely contracted aims and passions; and it can do this for the reason -that it is unable to tolerate the victorious issue and continuance in -the truth of the objective world of such a conflict with and opposition -to those ethical powers which are fundamentally and essentially -concordant.[33] Inasmuch as then, in conformity with this principle, -all that pertains to tragedy pre-eminently rests upon the contemplation -of such a conflict and its resolution, dramatic poetry is--and its -entire mode of presentation offers a proof of the fact--alone able to -make and completely adapt its form throughout its entire course and -compass to the principle of the art product. And this is the reason -why I have only now found occasion to discuss the tragic mode of -presentation, although it extends an effective force, if no doubt one -of subordinate degree, in many ways over the other arts. - -(_β_) In tragedy then that which is eternally substantive is -triumphantly vindicated under the mode of reconciliation. It simply -removes from the contentions of personality the false one-sidedness, -and exhibits instead that which is the object of its volition, namely, -positive reality, no longer under an asserted mediation of opposed -factors, but as the real support of consistency.[34] And in contrast to -this in _comedy_ it is the purely _personal experience_, which retains -the mastery in its character of infinite self-assuredness.[35] And it -is only these two fundamental aspects of human action which occupy a -position of contrast in the classification of dramatic poetry into its -several types. In tragedy individuals are thrown into confusion in -virtue of the abstract nature of their sterling volition and character, -or they are forced to accept that with resignation, to which they have -been themselves essentially opposed. In comedy we have a vision of the -victory of the intrinsically assured stability of the wholly personal -soul-life, the laughter of which resolves everything through the medium -and into the medium of such life. - -(_αα_) The general basis of comedy is therefore a world in which -man has made himself, in his conscious activity, complete master of -all that otherwise passes as the essential content of his knowledge -and achievement; a world whose ends are consequently thrown awry on -of their own lack of substance. A democratic folk, with egotistic -citizens, litigious, frivolous, conceited, without faith or knowledge, -always intent on gossip, boasting and vanity--such a folk is past -praying for; it can only dissolve in its folly. But it would be a -mistake to think that any action that is without genuine content is -therefore comic because it is void of substance. People only too -often in this respect confound the merely _ridiculous_ with the true -comic. Every contrast between what is essential and its appearance, -the object and its instrument, may be ridiculous, a contradiction in -virtue of which the appearance is absolutely cancelled, and the end is -stultified in its realization. A profounder significance is, however, -implied in the comic. There is, for instance, nothing comic in human -crime. The satire affords a proof of this, to the point of extreme -aridity, no matter how emphatic may be the colours in which it depicts -the condition of the actual world in its contrast to all that the man -of virtue ought to be. There is nothing in mere folly, stupidity, or -nonsense, which in itself necessarily partakes of the comic, though -we all of us are ready enough to laugh at it. And as a rule it is -extraordinary what a variety of wholly different things excite human -laughter. Matters of the dullest description and in the worst possible -taste will move men in this way; and their laughter may be excited -quite as much by things of the profoundest importance, if only they -happen to notice some entirely unimportant feature, which may conflict -with habit and ordinary experience. Laughter is consequently little -more than an expression of self-satisfied shrewdness; a sign that they -have sufficient wit to recognize such a contrast and are aware of -the fact. In the same way we have the laughter of the scoffer, the -scornful and desperation itself. What on the other hand is inseparable -from the comic is an infinite geniality and confidence[36] capable of -rising superior to its own contradiction, and experiencing therein no -taint of bitterness or sense of misfortune whatever. It is the happy -frame of mind, a hale condition of soul, which, fully aware of itself, -can suffer the dissolution of its aims and realization. The unexpansive -type of intelligence is on the contrary least master of itself where it -is in its behaviour most laughable to others. - -(_ββ_) In considering with more detail the kind of content which -characterizes and educes the object of comic action, I propose to limit -myself to the following points of general interest. - -On the _one_ hand there are human ends and characters essentially -devoid of substantive content and contradictory. They are therefore -unable to achieve the former or give effect to the latter. Avarice, -for example, not only in reference to its aim, but also in respect -to the petty means which it employs, is clearly from the first and -fundamentally a vain shadow. It accepts what is the dead abstraction -of wealth, money simply as such, as the _summum bonum_, the reality -beyond which it refuses to budge; and it endeavours to master this -frigid means of enjoyment by denying itself every other concrete -satisfaction, despite the fact too that, in the impotency of its -end no less than the means of its achievement, it is helpless when -confronted with cunning and treachery, and the like. In such a case -then, if anyone identifies _seriously_ his personal life with a content -so essentially false, to the extent of a man confining the embrace -of his soul-life to that exclusively, and in the result, if the same -is swept away as his foot-hold, the more he strives to retain that -former foot-hold, the more the life collapses in unhappiness--in such a -picture as this what is most vital to the comic situation fails, as it -does in every case where the predominant factors are simply on the one -side the painfulness of the actual conditions, and on the other scorn -and pleasure in such misfortune. There is therefore more of the true -comic in the case where, it is true, aims intrinsically mean and empty -would like to be achieved with an appearance of earnest solemnity and -every kind of preparation, but where the individual himself, when he -falls short of this, does not experience any real loss because he is -conscious that what he strove after was really of no great importance, -and is therefore able to rise superior with spontaneous amusement above -the failure. - -A situation which is the reverse of this occurs where people vaguely -grasp at aims and a personal impression of real substance, but in their -own individuality, as instruments to achieve this, are in absolute -conflict with such a result. In such a case what substance there is -only exists in the individual's imagination, becomes a mere appearance -to himself or others, which no doubt offers the show and virtue of -what is thus of material import, but for this very reason involves end -and personality, action and character in a contradiction, by reason -of which the attainment of the imaged end or characterization is -itself rendered impossible. An example of this is the "Ecclesiazusae" -of Aristophanes, where the women who seek to advise and found a new -political constitution, retain all the temperament and passions of -women as before. - -We may add to the above two divisions of classification, as a distinct -basis for yet _another_, the use made of external accident, by means of -the varied and extraordinary development of which situations are placed -before us in which the objects desired and their achievement, the -personal character and its external conditions are thrown into a comic -contrast, and lead to an equally comic resolution. - -(_γγ_) But inasmuch as the comic element wholly and from the first -depends upon contradictory contrasts, not only of ends themselves -on their own account, but also of their content as opposed to the -contingency of the personal life and external condition, the action -of comedy requires a _resolution_ with even more stringency than the -tragic drama. In other words, in the action of comedy the contradiction -between that which is essentially true and its specific realization is -more fundamentally asserted. - -That which, however, is abrogated in this resolution is not by any -means either the _substantive_ being or the _personal_ life as such. - -And the reason of this is that comedy too, viewed as genuine art, has -not the task set before it to display through its presentation what -is essentially rational as that which is intrinsically perverse and -comes to naught, but on the contrary as that which neither bestows -the victory, nor ultimately allows any standing ground to folly and -absurdity, that is to say the false contradictions and oppositions -which also form part of reality. The masculine art of Aristophanes, -for instance, does not turn into ridicule what is truly of ethical -significance in the social life of Athens, namely genuine philosophy, -true religious faith, but rather the spurious growth of the democracy, -in which the ancient faith and the former morality have disappeared, -such as the sophistry, the whining and querulousness of tragedy, the -inconstant gossip, the love of litigation and so forth; in other -words, it is those elements directly opposed to a genuine condition of -political life, religion and art, which he places before us in their -suicidal folly. Only in more modern times do we find in such a writer -as Kotzebue the baseness possible which throws over moral excellence, -and spares and strives to maintain that which only exists under a -condition of sufferance. To as little extent, however, ought the -individual's private life suffer substantial injury in comedy. Or to -put it otherwise, if it is merely the appearance and imagined presence -of what is substantive, or if it is the essentially perverse and petty -which is asserted, yet in the essential self stability of individual -character the more exalted principle remains, which in its freedom -reaches over and beyond the overthrow of all that such finite life -comprises, and continues itself in its character of self-security and -self-blessedness. This subjective life that we above all identify with -comic personality has thus become master of all the phenomenal presence -of the real. The mode of actual appearance adequate to what is, so to -speak, substantive, has vanished out of it; and, if what is essentially -without fundamental subsistence comes to naught with its mere pretence -of being that which it is not, the individual asserts himself as master -over such a dissolution, and remains at bottom unbroken and in good -heart to the end.[37] - -(_γ_) Midway between tragedy and comedy we have furthermore a _third_ -fundamental type of dramatic poetry, which is, however, of less -distinctive importance, despite the fact that in it the essential -difference between what is tragic and comic makes an effort to -construct a bridge of mediation, or at least to effect some coalescence -of both sides in a concrete whole without leaving either the one or the -other in opposed isolation. - -(_αα_) To this class we may, for example, refer the _Satyric_ drama of -the ancients, in which the principal action itself at least remains of -a serious if not wholly tragic type, while the chorus of its Satyrs is -in contrast to this treated in the comic manner. We may also include -in such a class the tragic-comedy. Plautus gives an example of this in -his "Amphitryo," and indeed in the prologue, through verses given to -Mercury, asserts this fact; the declamation runs as follows: - - - Quid contraxistis frontem? Quia Tragoediam - Dini futuram hanc? Deus sum: commutavero - Eamdem hanc, si voltis: faciam, ex Tragoedia - Comoedia ut sit, omnibus eisdem versibus. - Faciam ut conmista sit Tragicocomoedia. - - -He offers us as a reason for this intermixture the fact, that while -gods and kings are represented among the _dramatis personae_, we have -also in comic contrast to this the figure of the slave Sofia. With -yet more frequency in modern dramatic poetry we have the interplay of -tragic and comic situation; and this is naturally so, because in modern -compositions the principle of an intimate personal life has its place -too in tragedy, the principle which is asserted by comedy in all its -freedom, and from the first has been predominant, forcing as it does -into the background the substantive character of the content in which -the ethical forces, I have referred to previously, are paramount. - -(_ββ_) The profounder mediation, however, of tragic and comic -composition in a new whole does not consist in the juxtaposition or -alteration of these contradictory points of view, but in a mutual -accommodation, which blunts the force of such opposition. The element -of subjectivity, instead of being exercised with all the perversity -of the comic drama, is steeped in the seriousness of genuine social -conditions and substantial characters, while the tragic steadfastness -of volition and the depth of collisions is so far weakened and reduced -that it becomes compatible with a reconciliation of interests and a -harmonious union of ends and individuals. It is under such a mode of -conception that in particular the modern play and drama arise. The -profound aspect of this principle, in this view of the playwright, -consists in the fact that, despite the differences and conflicts -of interests, passions and characters, an essentially harmonious -reality none the less results from human action. Even the ancient -world possesses tragedies, which accept an issue of this character. -Individuals are not sacrificed, but maintained without serious -catastrophe. In the "Eumenides" of Æschylus, for example, both parties -there brought to judgment before the Areopagus, namely Apollo and -the avenging Furies, have their claims to honorable consideration -vindicated. Also in the "Philoctetes" the conflict between Neoptolemos -and Philoctetes is disposed of through the divine interposition of -Hercules and the advice he gives. They depart reconciled for Troy. In -this case, however, the accommodation is due to a _deus ex machinâ_ and -the actual source of such is not traceable to the personal attitude -of the parties themselves. In the modern play, however, it is the -individual characters alone who find themselves induced by the course -of their own action to such an abandonment of the strife, and to a -reciprocal reconciliation of their aims and personalities. From this -point of view the "Iphigeneia" of Goethe is a genuine model of a play -of this kind, and it is more so than his "Tasso," in which in the -first place the reconciliation with Antonio is rather an affair of -temperament and personal acknowledgment that Antonio possesses the -genuine knowledge of life, which is absent from the character of Tasso, -and along with this that the claim of ideal life, which Tasso had -rigidly adhered to in its conflict with actual conditions, adaptability -and grace of manners, retains its force throughout with an audience -merely in an ideal sense, and relatively to actual conditions at most -asserts itself as an excuse for the poet and a general sympathy for his -position. - -(_γγ_) As a rule, however, the boundary lines of their intermediate -type fluctuate more than is the case with tragedy or comedy. It is -also exposed to a further danger of breaking away from the true -dramatic type, or ceasing to be genuine poetry. In other words, owing -to the fact that the opposing factors, which have to secure a peaceful -conclusion from out of their own division, are from the start not -antithetical to one another with the emphasis asserted by tragedy; -the poet is for this reason compelled to devote the full strength -of his presentation to the psychological analysis of character, -and to make the course of the situations a mere instrument of such -characterization. Or, as an alternative, he admits a too extensive -field for the display of the material aspect of historical or ethical -conditions; and, under the pressure of such material, he tends to -restrict his effort to keep the attention alive to the interest of -the series of events evolved alone. To this class of composition we -may assign a host of our more recent theatrical pieces, which rather -aim at theatrical effect than claim to be poetry. They do not so -much seek to affect us as genuine poetical productions as to reach -our emotions generally as men and women; or they aim on the one hand -simply at recreation, and on the other at the moral education of public -taste; but while doing so they are almost equally concerned to provide -ample opportunity to the actor for the display of his trained art and -virtuosity in the most brilliant manner. - -(_b_) _The Difference between Ancient and Modern Dramatic Poetry_ - -The same principle which offered us a basis for the classification of -dramatic art into tragedy and comedy also will give us the essential -points of arrest in the history of their development. The progress we -find in this course of evolution can only appear after we have placed -such particular phases in the process side by side for comparison and -analysis. They subsist, in short, in the notion of dramatic action, -with the result that on the one hand the entire composition and its -theatrical execution emphasizes what is _substantive_ in the ends, -conflicts, and characters, and on the other that the _personal_ -factor of conscious and individual life constitutes the focal centre -throughout. - -(_α_) With regard to such an inquiry we may at once in the present -work, which does not attempt to include an exhaustive history of art, -leave out altogether those origins of dramatic art which we find -among Oriental peoples. Despite the considerable progress made by -Eastern poetry in the epic and certain types of lyrical composition -the entire world-outlook of such peoples nevertheless from the first -excludes an artistic development favourable to dramatic art. And the -reason is that to genuine _tragic_ action it is essential that the -principle of _individual_ freedom and independence, or at least that -of self-determination, the will to find in the self the free cause -and source of the personal act and its consequences, should already -have been aroused; and we may observe that to a still more emphatic -degree is this free claim of the personal life and its self-recognized -_imperium_ a necessary condition to the appearance of comedy. In the -East we find in neither case such a condition satisfied. In particular -remoteness from any and every attempt at real dramatic self-expression -is that imposing sublimity of Mohammedan poetry, although from a -certain point of view it is capable with real power of vindicating the -claim of individual independence. But it necessarily fails, because -it is an equally essential assumption of it that the One substantive -Power overrules every created being and determines his irreversible -destiny, and with all the more irresistible fatality in proportion as -such a spirit is asserted. The justification of a particular content -of individual action and of a personal life which explores its own -most intimate substance, in the sense that dramatic art presupposes, -is here impossible; indeed it is precisely in Mohammedanism that the -subjugation of the individual self to the will of God is the more -abstract in proportion as the One predominant Power, who rules the -universe, is more abstractly conceived in his universality, and in the -last instance will not tolerate one shred of particularity to remain. -We consequently only find origins of dramatic composition among the -Chinese and Hindoos. But here, too, so far as our present scanty -evidence carries us, these do not so much amount to the execution of -any free and individual action; they merely reflect the animated life -of events and emotions under the mode of definite situations, which are -displayed in their course as they actually happen. - -(_β_) The true beginning of dramatic poetry we have consequently to -seek among the Hellenes, with whom for the first time and in every -respect the principle of free individuality renders the perfect -elaboration of the classic type of art possible. Compatibly with -this type of art, however, and in its relation to human action, -individuality is only so far asserted as it directly demands the -free animation of the essential content of human aims. That which -pre-eminently is of valid force in ancient drama, therefore, whether -it be tragedy or comedy, is the universal and essential content of -the end, which individuals seek to achieve. In tragedy this is the -ethical claim of human consciousness in view of the particular action -in question, the vindication of the act on its own account. And in the -old comedy, too, it is in the same way at least the general public -interests which are emphasized, whether it be in statesmen and the -mode in which they direct the State, questions of peace or war, the -general public and its moral conditions, or the condition of philosophy -and its decline. And it is owing to this that here neither the varied -exposition of personal soul-life and exceptional character, nor the -equally exceptional plot and intrigue can obtain the fullest play, nor -does the main interest revolve so much around the fate of individuals. -In the place of this interest for such particular aspects of the -drama above all else sympathy is evoked and claimed for the simple -conflict and issue of the essential powers of life, and for the godlike -manifestations of the human heart,[38] as distinctive representatives -of which the heroes of tragedy are set before us in much the same -way as that in which the figures of comedy make visible the general -perversity of mankind, to the expression of which, in the reality of -the actual present, even the fundamental institutions of public life -have been corrupted. - -(_γ_) In _modern_ romantic poetry, on the contrary, it is the -individual passion, the satisfaction of which can only be relative to a -wholly personal end, generally speaking the destiny of some particular -person or character placed under exceptional circumstances, which forms -the subject-matter of all importance. - -From such a point of view the poetic interest consists in that -greatness of characters, which, in virtue of their imaginative power or -their disposition and talents, display a spiritual[39] elevation over -their situations and actions no less than over the entire wealth of -their soul-life, and show it as the real substance of political forces, -though often, too, these may be obstructed and, indeed, annihilated in -the stress of particular circumstances and the current of events; and -we may add that in the greatness of such natures it is not infrequent -to find that a power of recovery[40] is further contained. With regard -to the particular content of the action in this style of composition -it is not therefore the ethical vindication and necessity, but rather -the isolated individual and his conditions to which our interest is -directed. From a standpoint such as this, therefore, a fundamental -motive will arise in such qualities as love and ambition; indeed, crime -itself is not excluded. But in the latter case we may easily find -rocks ahead difficult indeed to clear. For an out and out criminal, -and irrevocably so when he is weak and a thoroughly mean scamp, as -is the hero in Milliner's drama, "Crime," is something more than a -sorry sight. What we require therefore above all in such cases is at -least the formal[41] greatness of character and power of the personal -life which is able to ride out everything that negates it, and which, -without denial of its acts or, indeed, without being materially -discomposed by them, is capable of accepting their consequences. -And on the other side we find that those substantive ends, such as -patriotism, family devotion, loyalty, and the rest, are by no means to -be excluded, although for the individual persons concerned the main -question of importance is not so much the substantive force as their -own individuality. But in such cases as a rule they rather form the -particular ground upon which such persons, viewed in the light of their -private character, take their stand and engage in conflict, rather than -have supplied what we may regard as the real and ultimate content of -their volition and action. - -And further, in conjunction with a personal self-assertion of this type -we may have presented the full extension of individual idiosyncrasy, -not merely in respect to the soul-life simply, but also in relation -to external circumstances and conditions, within which the action -proceeds. And it is owing to this that in distinctive form the simple -conflicts which characterize more classical dramatic composition, we -now meet with the variety and exuberance of the characters dramatized, -the unforeseen surprises of the ever new and complicated developments -of plot, the maze of intrigue, the contingency of events, and, in a -word, all those aspects of the modern drama which claim our attention, -and the unfettered appearance of which, as opposed to the overwhelming -emphasis attached to what is essentially most fundamental in the -content, accentuates the type of romantic art in its distinction from -the classic type. - -But again, even in the cases above indicated, and despite all this -apparently untrammelled particularity, the whole ought to continue to -be both dramatic and poetical. In other words, on the one hand, the -harshness of the collision, which has to be fought through, ought to -be visibly obliterated, and on the other, pre-eminently in tragedy, -the predominant presence of a more exalted order of the world, whether -we adopt the conception of Providence or Fatality, ought to plainly -discover itself in and through the course and issue of the action. - -(_c_) _The Concrete Development of Dramatic Poetry and its Types_ - -Within the essential distinctions of conception and poetical -achievement which we have just considered the different types of -dramatic art assert themselves, and, for the first time in such -association, and in so far as their development follows either one -or the other direction, attain a really genuine completeness. We -have, therefore, in concluding the present work, still to concentrate -our inquiry upon the concrete mode under which they receive such a -configuration. - -(_α_) Excluding as we shall do for the reasons already given from -our subject-matter the origins of such poetry in Oriental literature, -the material of first and fundamental importance which engages our -attention, as the most valuable phase of genuine tragedy no less than -comedy, is the dramatic poetry of the _Greeks._ In other words, in -it for the first time we find the human consciousness is illuminated -with that which in its general terms the tragic and comic situation -essentially is; and after that these opposed types of dramatic outlook -upon human action have been securely and beyond all confusion separated -from each other, we mark first in order tragedy, and after that comedy, -rise in organic development to the height of their achievement. Of -such a successful result the dramatic art of Rome merely returns a -considerably attenuated reflection, which does not indeed reach the -point secured by the similar effort of Roman literature in epic and -lyrical composition. In my examination of the material thus offered my -object will be merely to accentuate what is most important, and I shall -therefore limit my survey to the tragic point of view of Æschylus and -Sophocles, and to Aristophanes so far as comedy is concerned. - -(_αα_) Taking, then, tragedy first, I have already stated that the -fundamental type which determines its entire organization and structure -is to be sought for in the emphasis attached to the substantive -constitution of final ends and their content, as also of the -individuals dramatized and their conflict and destiny. - -In the tragic drama we are now considering, the general basis or -background for tragic action is supplied, as was also the case in the -Epos, by that world-condition which I have already indicated as the -_heroic_. For only in heroic times, when the universal ethical forces -have neither acquired the independent stability of definite political -legislation or moral commands and obligations, can they be presented -in their primitive jucundity as gods, who are either opposed to each -other in their personal activities, or themselves appear as the -animated content of a free and human individuality. If, however, what -is intrinsically ethical is to appear throughout as the substantive -foundation, the universal ground, shall we say, from which the growth -of personal action arrests our attention with equal force in its -disunion, and is no less brought back again from such divided movement -into unity, we shall find that there are two distinct modes under which -the ethical content of human action is asserted. - -_First,_ we have the simple consciousness, which, in so far as it -wills its substantive content[42] wholly as the unbroken identity of -its particular aspects, remains in undisturbed, uncriticized, and -neutral tranquillity on its own account and as related to others. -This undivided and, we may add, purely formal[43] state of mind in -its veneration, its faith, and its happiness, however, is incapable -of attaching itself to any definite action; it has a sort of dread -before the disunion which is implied in such, although it does, while -remaining itself incapable of action, esteem at the same time that -spiritual courage which asserts itself resolutely and actively in a -self-proposed object, as of nobler worth, yet is aware of its inability -to undertake such enterprize, and consequently considers that it can -do nothing further for such active personalities, whom it respects so -highly, than contrast with the energy of their decision and conflict -the object of its own wisdom, in other words, the substantive ideality -of the ethical Powers. - -The _second_ mode under which this ethical content is asserted is that -of the individual pathos,[44] which urges the active characters to -their moral self-vindication into the opposition they occupy relatively -to others, and brings them thereby into conflict. The individuals -subject to this pathos are neither what, in the modern use of the -term, we describe as characters, nor are they mere abstractions. They -are rather placed in the vital midway sphere between both, standing -there as figures of real stability, which are simply that which they -are, without aught of collision in themselves, without any fluctuating -recognition of some other pathos, and in so far--in this respect -a contrast to our modern irony--elevated, absolutely determinate -characters, whose definition, however, discovers its content and -basis in a particular ethical power. Forasmuch as, then, the tragic -situation first appears in the _antagonism_ of individuals who are -thus empowered to act, the same can only assert itself in the field -of actual human life. It results from the specific character of this -alone that a particular quality so affects the substantive content of -a given individual, that the latter identifies himself with his entire -interest and being in such a content, and penetrates it throughout with -the glow of passion. In the blessed gods, however, it is the divine -Nature, in its indifference, which is what is essential; in contrast -to which we have the contradiction, which in the last instance is not -treated seriously, rather is one which, as I have already noticed -when discussing the Homeric Epos, becomes eventually a self-resolving -irony. These two modes or aspects--of which the one is as important -for the whole as the other--namely, the unsevered consciousness of -the godlike, and the combating human action, asserted, however, in -godlike power and deed, which determines and executes the ethical -purpose--supply the two fundamental elements, the mediation of which is -displayed by Greek tragedy in its artistic compositions under the form -of _chorus_ and _heroic figures_ respectively. - -In modern times, considerable discussion has been raised over the -significance of the Greek chorus, and the question has been raised -incidentally whether it can or ought to be introduced into modern -tragedy. In fact, the need of some such substantial foundation has -been experienced; but critics have found it difficult to prescribe -the precise manner in which effect should be given to such a change, -because they failed to grasp with sufficient penetration the nature -of that in which true tragedy consists and the necessity of the -chorus as an essential constituent of all that Greek tragedy implies. -Critics have, no doubt, recognized the nature of the chorus to the -extent of maintaining that in it we find an attitude of tranquil -meditation over the whole, whereas the characters of the action remain -within the limits of their particular objects and situations, and, -in short, receive in the chorus and its observations a standard of -valuation of their characters and actions in much the same way as the -public discovers in it, and within the drama itself, an objective -representative of its own judgment upon all that is thus represented. -In this view we have to this extent the fact rightly conceived, that -the chorus is, in truth, there as a substantive and more enlightened -intelligence, which warns us from irrelevant oppositions, and reflects -upon the genuine issue. But, granting this to be so, it is by no -means a wholly disinterested person, at leisure to entertain such -thoughts and ethical judgments as it likes as are the spectators, -which, uninteresting and tedious on its own account, could only be -attached for the sake of such reflections. The chorus is the actual -substance of the heroic life and action itself: it is, as contrasted -with the particular heroes, the common folk regarded as the fruitful -heritage, out of which individuals, much as flowers and towering trees -from their native soil, grow and whereby they are conditioned in this -life. Consequently, the chorus is peculiarly fitted to a view of life -in which the obligations of State legislation and settled religious -dogmas do not, as yet, act as a restrictive force in ethical and -social development, but where morality only exists in its primitive -form of directly animated human life, and it is merely the equilibrium -of unmoved life which remains assured in its stability against the -fearful collisions which the antagonistic energies of individual action -produces. We are made aware of the fact that an assured asylum of -this kind is also a part of our actual existence by the presence of -the chorus. It does not, therefore, practically co-operate with the -action; it executes by its action no right as against the contending -heroes; it merely expresses its judgment as a matter of opinion; it -warns, commiserates, or appeals to the divine law, and the ideal forces -imminent in the soul, which the imagination grasps in external guise -as the sphere of the gods that rule. In this self-expression it is, as -we have already seen, lyrical; for it does not act and there are no -events for it to narrate in epical form. The content, however, retains -at the same time the epic character of substantive universality; and -its lyric movement is of such a nature that it can, and in this respect -in contrast to the form of the genuine ode, approach at times that of -the paean and the dithyramb. We must lay emphatic stress upon this -position of the chorus in Greek tragedy. Just as the theatre itself -possesses its external ground, its scene and environment, so, too, the -chorus, that is the general community, is the spiritual scene; and we -may compare it to the architectural temple which surrounds the image -of the god, which resembles the heroes in the action. Among ourselves, -statues are placed under the open sky without such a background, which -also modern tragedy does not require, for the reason that its actions -do not depend on this substantive basis, but on the personal volition -and personality, no less than the apparently external contingency of -events and circumstances. - -In this respect it is an entirely false view which regards the chorus -as an accidental piece of residuary baggage, a mere remnant from the -origins of Greek drama. Of course, it is incontestable that its source -is to be traced to the circumstance that, in the festivals of Bacchus, -so far as the artistic aspect is concerned, the choral song was of most -importance until the introduction and interruption of its course by -one reciter, whose relation finally was transformed into and exalted -by the real figures of dramatic action. In the blossoming season of -tragedy, however, the chorus was not by any means merely retained in -honour of this particular phase of the festival and ritual of the god -Bacchus; rather it became continuously more elaborate in its beauty and -harmonious measures by reason of the fact that its association with the -dramatic action is essential and, indeed, so indispensable to it that -the decline of tragedy is intimately connected with the degeneration of -the choruses, which no longer remain an integral member of the whole, -but are degraded to a mere embellishment. In contrast to this, in -romantic tragedy, the chorus is neither intrinsically appropriate nor -does it appear to have originated from choric songs. On the contrary, -the content is here of a type which defeats from the first any attempt -to introduce choruses as understood by Greek dramatists. For, even if -we go back to the most primitive of those so-called mysteries, morality -plays and farces of a similar character, from which the romantic drama -issued, we find that these present no action in that original Greek -sense of the term, no outbreak, that is, of opposing forces from the -undivided consciousness of life and the god-like. To as little extent -is the chorus adapted to the conditions of chivalry and the dominion -of kings, in so far as, in such cases, the attitude of the folk is one -of mere obedience, or it is itself a party, involved together with the -interest of its fortune or misfortune in the course of the action. And -in general the chorus entirely fails to secure its true position where -the main subject-matter consists of particular passions, ends, and -characters, or any considerable opportunity is admitted to intrigue. - -In contrast to the chorus, the _second_ fundamental feature of dramatic -composition is that of the _individuals_ who act in _conflict_ with -each other. In Greek tragedy it is not at all the bad will, crime, -worthlessness, or mere misfortune, stupidity, and the like, which act -as an incentive to such collisions, but rather, as I have frequently -urged, the ethical right to a definite course of action.[45] Abstract -evil neither possesses truth in itself, nor does it arouse interest. -At the same time, when we attribute ethical traits of characterization -to the individuals of the action, these ought not to appear merely -as a matter of opinion. It is rather implied in their right or claim -that they are actually there as essential on their own account. The -hazards of crime, such as are present in modern drama--the useless, or -quite as much the so-called noble criminal, with his empty talk about -fate, we meet with in the tragedy of ancient literature, rarely, if at -all, and for the good reason that the decision and deed depends on the -wholly personal aspect of interest and character, upon lust for power, -love, honour, or other similar passions, whose justification has its -roots exclusively in the particular inclination and individuality. A -resolve of this character, whose claim is based upon the content of its -object, which it carries into execution in one restricted direction of -particularization, violates, under certain circumstances, which are -already essentially implied in the actual possibility of conflicts, -a further and equally ethical sphere of human volition, which the -character thus confronted adheres to, and, by his thus stimulated -action, enforces, so that in this way the collision of powers and -individuals equally entitled to the ethical claim is completely set up -in its movement. - -The sphere of this content,[46] although capable of great variety of -detail, is not in its essential features very extensive. The principal -source of opposition, which Sophocles in particular, in this respect -following the lead of Æschylus, has accepted and worked out in the -finest way, is that of the _body politic_, the opposition, that is, -between ethical life in its social universality and the family as the -natural ground of moral relations. These are the purest forces of -tragic representation. It is, in short, the harmony of these spheres -and the concordant action within the bounds of their realized content, -which constitute the perfected reality of the moral life. In this -respect I need only recall to recollection the "Seven before Thebes" -of Æschylus and, as a yet stronger illustration, the "Antigone" of -Sophocles. Antigone reverences the ties of blood-relationship, the -gods of the nether world. Creon alone recognizes Zeus, the paramount -Power of public life and the commonwealth. We come across a similar -conflict in the "Iphigeneia in Aulis," as also in the "Agamemnon," the -"Choephorae," and "Eumenides" of Æschylus, and in the "Electra" of -Sophocles. Agamemnon, as king and leader of his army, sacrifices his -daughter in the interest of the Greek folk and the Trojan expedition. -He shatters thereby the bond of love as between himself and his -daughter and wife, which Clytemnestra retains in the depths of a -mother's heart, and in revenge prepares an ignominious death for her -husband on his return. Orestes, their son, respects his mother, but is -bound to represent the right of his father, the king, and strikes dead -the mother who bore him. - -A content of this type retains its force through all times, and its -presentation, despite all difference of nationality, vitally arrests -our human and artistic sympathies. - -Of a more formal type is that second kind of essential collision, -an illustration of which in the tragic story of Œdipus the Greek -tragedians especially favoured. Of this Sophocles has left us the -most complete example in his "Œdipus Rex," and "Œdipus in Colonos." -The problem here is concerned with the claim of alertness in our -intelligence, with the nature of the obligation[47] implied in that -which a man carries out with a volition fully aware of its acts as -contrasted with that which he has done in fact, but unconscious of -and with no intention of doing what he has done under the directing -providence of the gods. Œdipus slays his father, marries his mother, -begets children in this incestuous alliance, and nevertheless is -involved in these most terrible of crimes without active participation -either in will or knowledge. The point of view of our profounder modern -consciousness of right and wrong would be to recognize that crimes of -this description, inasmuch as they were neither referable to a personal -knowledge or volition, were not deeds for which the true personality of -the perpetrator was responsible. The plastic nature of the Greek on the -contrary adheres to the bare fact which an individual has achieved, and -refuses to face the division implied by the purely ideal attitude of -the soul in the self-conscious life on the one hand and the objective -significance of the fact accomplished on the other. - -For ourselves, to conclude this survey, other collisions, which either -in general are related to the universally accepted association of -personal action to the Greek conception of Destiny, or in some measure -to more exceptional conditions, are comparatively speaking less -important. - -In all these tragic conflicts, however, we must above all place on one -side the false notion of _guilt_ or _innocence_. The heroes of tragedy -are quite as much under one category as the other. If we accept the -idea as valid that a man is guilty only in the case that a choice -lay open to him, and he deliberately decided on the course of action -which he carried out, then these plastic figures of ancient drama -are guiltless. They act in accordance with a specific character, a -specific pathos, for the simple reason that they are this character, -this pathos. In such a case there is no lack of decision and no choice. -The strength of great characters consists precisely in this that they -do not choose, but are entirely and absolutely just that which they -will and achieve. They are simply themselves, and never anything else, -and their greatness consists in that fact. Weakness in action, in -other words, wholly consists in the division of the personal self as -such from its content, so that character, volition and final purpose -do not appear as absolutely one unified growth; and inasmuch as no -assured end lives in the soul as the very substance of the particular -personality, as the pathos and might of the individual's entire will, -he is still able to turn with indecision from this course to that, and -his final decision is that of caprice. A wavering attitude of this -description is alien to these plastic creations. The bond between the -psychological state of mind and the content of the will is for them -indissoluble. That which stirs them to action is just in this very -pathos which implies an ethical justification and which, even in the -pathetic aspects of the dialogue, is not enforced in and through the -merely personal rhetoric of the heart and the sophistry of passion, -but in the equally masculine and cultivated objective presence, in -the profound possibilities, the harmony and vitally plastic beauty of -which Sophocles was to a superlative degree master. At the same time, -however, such a pathos, with its potential resources of collision, -brings in its train deeds that are both injurious and wrongful. They -have no desire to avoid the blame that results therefrom. On the -contrary, it is their fame to have done what they have done. One can in -fact urge nothing more intolerable against a hero of this type than by -saying that he has acted innocently. It is a point of honour with such -great characters that they are guilty. They have no desire to excite -pity or our sensibilities. For it is not the substantive, but rather -the wholly personal deepening[48] of the individual character, which -stirs our individual pain. These securely strong characters, however, -coalesce entirely with their essential pathos, and this indivisible -accord inspires wonder, but does not excite heart emotions. The drama -of Euripides marks the transition to that. - -The final result, then, of the development of tragedy conducts us -to this issue and only this, namely, that the twofold vindication -of the mutually conflicting aspects are no doubt retained, but the -_onesided_ mode under which they were maintained is cancelled, and -the undisturbed ideal harmony brings back again that condition of -the chorus, which attributes without reserve equal honour to all -the gods. The true course of dramatic development consists in the -annulment of _contradictions_ viewed as such, in the reconciliation -of the forces of human action, which alternately strive to negate -each other in their conflict. Only so far is misfortune and suffering -not the final issue, but rather the satisfaction of spirit, as for -the first time, in virtue of such a conclusion, the necessity of all -that particular individuals experience, is able to appear in complete -accord with reason, and our emotional attitude is tranquillized on -a true ethical basis, rudely shaken by the calamitous result to the -heroes, but reconciled in the substantial facts. And it is only in so -far as we retain such a view securely that we shall be in a position to -understand ancient tragedy. We have to guard ourselves therefore from -concluding that a _dénouement_ of this type is merely a moral issue -conformably to which evil is punished and virtue rewarded, as indicated -by the proverb that "when crime turns to vomit, virtue sits down at -table." We have nothing to do here with this wholly personal aspect of -a self-reflecting personality and its conception of good and evil, but -are concerned with the appearance of the affirmative reconciliation and -with the equal validity of both the powers engaged in actual conflict, -when the collision actually took place. To as little extent is the -necessity of the issue a blind destiny, or in other words a purely -irrational, unintelligible fate, identified with the classical world -by many; rather it is the rationality of destiny, albeit it does not -as yet appear as self-conscious Providence, the divine final end of -which in conjunction with the world and individuals appears on its own -account and for others, depending as it does on just this fact that the -highest Power paramount over particular gods and mankind cannot suffer -this, namely, that the forces, which affirm their selfsubsistence -in modes that are abstract or incomplete, and thereby overstep the -boundary of their warrant, no less than the conflicts which result -from them, should retain their self-stability. Fate drives personality -back upon its limits, and shatters it, when it has grown overweening. -An irrational compulsion, however, an innocence of suffering would -rather only excite indignation in the soul of the spectator than -ethical tranquillity. From a further point of view, therefore, the -reconciliation of _tragedy_ is equally distinct from that of the -_Epos._ If we look at either Achilles or Odysseus in this respect we -observe that both attain their object, and it is right that they do -so; but it is not a continuous happiness with which they are favoured; -they have on the contrary to taste in its bitterness the feeling of -finite condition, and are forced to fight wearily through difficulties, -losses and sacrifices. It is in fact a universal demand of truth that -in the course of life and all that takes place in the objective world -the nugatory character of finite conditions should compel attention. So -no doubt the anger of Achilles is reconciled; he obtains from Agamemnon -that in respect of which he had suffered the sense of insult; he is -revenged upon Hector; the funeral rites of Patroclus are consummated, -and the character of Achilles is acknowledged in all its glory. But his -wrath and its reconciliation have for all that cost him his dearest -friend, the noble Patroclus; and, in order to avenge himself upon -Hector for this loss, he finds himself compelled to disengage himself -from his anger, to enter once more the battle against the Trojans, -and in the very moment when his glory is acknowledged receives the -prevision of his early death. In a similar way Odysseus reaches Ithaca -at last, the goal of his desire; but he does so alone and in his sleep, -having lost all his companions, all the war-booty from Ilium, after -long years of endurance and fatigue. In this way both heroes have paid -their toll to finite conditions and the claim of nemesis is evidenced -in the destruction of Troy and the misfortunes of the Greek heroes. -But this nemesis is simply justice as conceived of old, which merely -humiliates what is everywhere too exalted, in order to establish -once more the abstract balance of fortune by the instrumentality of -misfortune, and which merely touches and affects finite existence -without further ethical signification. And this is the justice of the -Epic in the field of objective fact, the universal reconciliation -of what is simply accommodation.[49] The higher conception of -reconciliation in tragedy is on the contrary related to the resolution -of specific ethical and substantive facts from their contradiction into -their true harmony. The way in which such an accord is established is -asserted under very different modes; I propose therefore merely to -direct attention to the fundamental features of the actual process -herein involved. - -_Firsts_ we have particularly to emphasize the fact, that if it is -the onesidedness of the pathos which constitutes the real basis of -collisions this merely amounts to the statement that it is asserted in -the action of life, and therewith has become the unique pathos of a -particular individual. If this one-sidedness is to be abrogated then it -is this individual which, to the extent that his action is exclusively -identified with this isolated pathos, must perforce be stripped and -sacrificed. For the individual here is merely this single life, and, -if this unity is not secured in its stability on its own account, the -individual is shattered. - -The most complete form of this development is possible when the -individuals engaged in conflict relatively to their concrete or -objective life appear in each case essentially involved in one whole, -so that they stand fundamentally under the power of that against which -they battle, and consequently infringe that, which, conformably to -their own essential life, they ought to respect. Antigone, for example, -lives under the political authority of Creon; she is herself the -daughter of a king and the affianced of Haemon, so that her obedience -to the royal prerogative is an obligation. But Creon also, who is -on his part father and husband, is under obligation to respect the -sacred ties of relationship, and only by breach of this can give an -order that is in conflict with such a sense. In consequence of this -we find immanent in the life of both that which each respectively -combats, and they are seized and broken by that very bond which is -rooted in the compass of their own social existence. Antigone is put -to death before she can enjoy what she looks forward to as bride, and -Creon too is punished in the fatal end of his son and wife, who commit -suicide, the former on account of Antigone's death, and the latter -owing to Haemon's. Among all the fine creations of the ancient and the -modern world--and I am acquainted with pretty nearly everything in -such a class, and one ought to know it, and it is quite possible--the -"Antigone" of Sophocles is from this point of view in my judgment the -most excellent and satisfying work of art. - -The tragic issue does not, however, require in every case as a means -of removing both over-emphasized aspects and the equal honour which -they respectively claim the downfall of the contestant parties. The -"Eumenides" does not end, as we all know, with the death of Orestes, -or the destruction of the Eumenides, these avenging spirits of -matricide and filial affection, these opponents of Apollo, who seeks -to protect unimpaired the worth of and reverence for the family chief -and king, the god who had prompted Orestes to slay Clytaemnestra, but -will have Orestes released from the punishment and honour bestowed -on both himself and the Furies. At the same time we cannot fail to -see in this adjusted conclusion the nature of the authority which -the Greeks attached to their gods when they presented them as mere -individuals contending with each other. They appear, in short, to -the Athenian of everyday life merely as definite aspects of ethical -experience which the principles of morality viewed in their complete -and harmonious coherence bind together. The votes of the Areopagus are -equal on either side. It is Athene, the goddess, the life of Athens, -that is, imagined in its essential unity, who adds the white pebble, -who frees Orestes, and at the same time promises altars and a cult -to the Eumenides no less than Apollo. As a contrast to this type of -objective reconciliation the settlement may be, _secondly_, of a more -personal character. In other words, the individual concerned in the -action may in the last instance surrender his onesided point of view. -In this betrayal by personality of its essential pathos, however, it -cannot fail to appear destitute of character; and this contradicts the -masculine integrity of such plastic figures. The individual, therefore, -can only submit to a higher Power and its counsel or command, to the -effect that while on his own account he adheres to such a pathos, the -will is nevertheless broken in its bare obstinacy by a god's authority. -In such a case the knot is not loosened, but, as in the case of -Philoctetes, it is severed by a _deus ex machinâ._ - -But as a _further_ and final class, and one more beautiful than the -above rather external mode of resolution we have the reconciliation -more properly of the soul itself, in which respect there is, in -virtue of the personal significance, a real approach to our modern -point of view. The most perfect example of this in ancient drama is -to be found in the ever admirable "Œdipus Coloneus" of Sophocles. The -protagonist here has unwittingly slain his father, secured the sceptre -of Thebes, and the bridal bed of his own mother. He is not rendered -unhappy by these unwitting crimes; but the power of divination he has -of old possessed makes him realize, despite himself, the darkness -of the experience that confronts him, and he becomes fearfully, if -indistinctly, aware of what his position is.[50] In this resolution of -the riddle in himself he resembles Adam, losing his happiness when he -obtains the knowledge of good and evil. What he then does, the seer, -is to blind himself, then abdicate the throne and depart from Thebes, -very much as Adam and Eve are driven from Paradise. From henceforward -he wanders about a helpless old man. Finally a god calls the terribly -afflicted man to himself,[51] the man, that is, who refusing the -request of his sons that he should return to Thebes, prefers to -associate with the Erinnys; the man, in short, who extinguishes all -the disruption in himself and who purifies himself in his own soul. -His blind eyes are made clear and bright, his limbs are healed, and -become a treasure of the city which received him as a free guest. And -this illumination in death is for ourselves no less than for him the -more truly visible reconciliation which is worked out both in and for -himself as individual man, in and through, that is, his essential -character. Critics have endeavoured to discover here the temper of the -Christian life; we are told we have here the picture of a sinner, whom -God receives into His grace; and the fateful misfortunes which expire -in their finite condition, are made good with the seal of blessedness -in death. The reconciliation of the Christian religion, however, is an -illumination of the soul, which, bathed in the everlasting waters of -salvation, is raised above mortal life and its deeds. Here it is the -heart itself, for in such a view the spiritual life can effect this, -which buries that life and its deed in the grave of the heart itself, -counting the recriminations of earthly guilt as part and parcel of its -own earthly individuality; and which, in the full assuredness of the -eternally pure and spiritual condition of blessedness, holds itself in -itself calm and steadfast against such impeachment. The illumination of -Œdipus, on the contrary, remains throughout, in consonance with ancient -ideas, the restoration of conscious life from the strife of ethical -powers and violations to the renewed and harmonious unity of this -_ethical content itself._[52] - -There is a further feature in this type of reconciliation, however, -and that is the _personal_ or ideal nature of the satisfaction. We may -take this as a point of transition to the otherwise to be contrasted -province of _comedy_. - -(_ββ_) That which is comic is, as we have already seen, in general -terms the subjective or personal state, which forces and then -dissolves the action which issues from it by its own effect into and -in contradiction, remaining throughout and in virtue of this process -tranquil in its own self-assurance. Comedy possesses, therefore, -for its basis and point of departure that with which it is possible -for tragedy to terminate, that is, a soul to the fullest extent and -eventually reconciled, a joyous state, which, however much it is -instrumental in the marring of its volitional power, and, indeed, in -itself comes to grief, by reason of its asserting voluntarily what -is in conflict with its aim, does not therefore lose its general -equanimity. A personal self-assurance of this character, however is, -from a further point of view, only possible in so far as the ends -proposed, and withal the characters include nothing that is on its -own account essentially substantive; or, if they do possess such an -intrinsic worth, it is adopted and carried out intentionally under -a mode which is totally opposed to the genuine truth contained, in -a form, therefore, that is destitute of such truth, so that in this -respect, as in the previous case, it is merely that which is itself -essentially of no intrinsic importance, but a matter of indifference -which is marred, and the individual remains just as he was and -unaffected. - -Such a view is, too, in its general lines the conception of the old -classic comedy, in so far as tradition reflects it in the plays of -Aristophanes. We should, however, be careful to notice the distinction -whether the individuals in the play are aware that they are comic, -or are so merely from the spectator's point of view. It is only the -first class that we can reckon as part of the genuine comedy in which -Aristophanes was a master. Conformably to such a type a character is -only placed in a ridiculous situation, when we perceive that he himself -is not serious in what is actually of such a quality in his purpose -and voluntary effort, so that this constituent of either is throughout -the means of his own undoing, inasmuch as throughout such a character -is unable to enter into any more noble and universally valid interest, -which necessarily involves it in a situation of conflict;[53] and, -even assuming that he does actually partake of it, merely does so in a -way that shows a nature, which, in virtue of its practical existence, -has already annihilated that which it appears to strive to bring into -operation, so that after all one sees such a coalescence has never been -really effected. The comic comes, therefore, rather into play among -classes of a lower social order in actual conditions of life, among -men who remain much as they are, and neither are able or desire to be -anything else; who, while incapable of any genuine pathos, have no -doubt whatever as to what they are and do. At the same time the higher -nature that is in them is asserted in this that they are not with any -seriousness attached to the finite conditions which hem them in, but -remain superior to the same and in themselves essentially steadfast and -self-reliant against mishap and loss. This absolute freedom of spirit, -which brings its own essential comfort from the first in all that a man -undertakes, this world of the blitheness of human soul-life is that to -which Aristophanes conducts us. Without a reading of him it is hardly -possible to imagine what a wealth of exuberance there is in the human -heart. - -The interests among which this type of comedy moves are not necessarily -taken from the opposed spheres of religion, morality, and art. On the -contrary the old Greek comedy remains no doubt within the limits of -this positive and substantive content of human life; but it is the -individual caprice, the vulgar folly and perversity, by reason of -which the characters concerned bring to nought activities which in -their aim have a finer significance. And in this respect an ample and -very pertinent material is supplied Aristophanes partly by Greek gods, -and partly by the life of the Athenian people. In other words, the -configuration of the divine in human impersonation itself possesses, in -its mode of presentation and its particularization, to the extent at -least that it is further enforced in opposition to that which is merely -one-sided and human, the contradiction that is opposed to the nobility -of its significance; it is thus permitted to appear as a purely empty -extension of this personal life which is inadequate wholly to express -it. More particularly, however, Aristophanes revels in the follies of -the common folk, the stupidities of its orators and statesmen, the -blockheadedness of war, and is eager, above all, and with all the -politeness of his satire and the full weight of his ridicule, but also -not without the profoundest meaning, to hand over the new tendencies -of the tragedies of Euripides to the laughter of his fellow-citizens. -The characters he has imported into the substance of his amazing -artistic creations he runs into the mould of fool from the start with -a sportive fancy that seems inexhaustible, so that the very idea of a -rational result is impossible. He treats all alike, whether it be a -Strepsiades, who will join the ranks of philosophers in order to be -rid of his debts, or a Socrates, who offers to instruct the aforesaid -Strepsiades and his son, or Bacchus, whom he makes descend into the -lower world, in order to bring up a genuine tragic poet, and in just -the same way Cleon, the women and the Greeks, who would like to pump -up the goddess of Peace from the well. The key-note that we find in -all these various creations is the imperturbable self-assurance of -such characters one and all, which becomes all the more emphatic in -proportion as they prove themselves incapable of carrying into effect -that which they project. Our fools here are so entirely unembarrassed -in their folly, and also the more sensible among them possess such a -tincture of that which runs contrary to the very course upon which they -are set, that they all, the more sensible with the rest, remain fixed -to this personal attitude of prodigious imperturbility, no matter what -comes next or where it carries them. It is in fact the blessed laughter -of the Olympian gods, with their untroubled equanimity, now at home -in the human breast, and prepared for all contingences. And withal we -never find Aristophanes merely a cold or evil-disposed mocker. He was a -man of the finest education, a most exemplary citizen, to whom the weal -of Athens was of really deep importance, and who through thick and thin -shows himself to be a true patriot. What therefore is in the fullest -sense resolved in his comedies is, as already stated, not the divine -and what is of ethical import, but the thoroughgoing upside-down-ness -which inflates itself into the semblance of these substantive forces, -the particular form and distinctive mode of its manifestation, in which -the essential thing or matter is already from the first no longer -present, so that it can without restriction be simply handed over to -the unconcerned play of unqualified personal caprice. But for the very -reason that Aristophanes makes explicit the absolute contradiction -between the essential nature of the gods, or that of political and -social life, and the personal activities of individual persons or -citizens, who ought to endow such substantive form with reality, we -find in this very triumph of purely personal self-assertion, despite -all the profounder insight which the poet displays, one of the greatest -symptoms of the degeneracy of Greece. And it is on account of this that -these pictures of a wholly unperturbed sense of "everything coming -out right in the end" [54] are as a matter of fact the last important -harvest which we have from the poetry created by the exuberant genius, -culture, and wit of the Greek nation. - -(_β_) I shall now direct attention to the dramatic art of the modern -world, and here, too, I only propose to emphasize the more general and -fundamental features which we find of importance, whether dealing with -tragedy or the ordinary drama and comedy. - -(_αα_) Tragedy, in the nobility which distinguishes it in its ancient -plastic form, is limited to the partial point of view that for its -exclusive and essential basis it only enforces as effective the -ethically substantive content and its necessary laws; and, on the other -hand, leaves the individual and subjective self-penetration of the -dramatic characters essentially unevolved; while comedy on its part, -to complete what we may regard as the reversed side of such plastic -construction, exhibits to us the personal caprice of soul-life in the -unfettered abandonment of its topsy-turvydom and ultimate dissolution. - -_Modern tragedy_ accepts in its own province from the first the -principle of subjectivity or self-assertion. It makes, therefore, the -personal intimacy of character--the character, that is, which is no -purely individual and vital embodiment of ethical forces in the classic -sense--its peculiar object and content. It, moreover, makes, in a type -of concurrence that is adapted to this end, human actions come into -collision through the instrumentality of the external accident of -circumstances in the way that a contingency of a similar character is -also decisive in its effect on the consequence, or appears to be so -decisive. - -In this connection we would subject to examination the following -fundamental points: - -_Firsts_ the nature of the varied _ends_ which ought to come into -the executive process of the action as the content of the characters -therein. - -_Secondly_, the nature of the tragic _characters_ themselves, as also -of the collisions they are compelled to face. - -_Thirdly_, the nature of the final _issue_ and tragic reconciliation, -as these differ from those of ancient tragedy. - -To start with, we may observe that, however much in romantic tragedy -the personal aspect of suffering and passions, in the true meaning -of such an attitude, is the focal centre, yet, for all that, it is -impossible in human activity that the ground basis of definite ends -borrowed from the concrete worlds of the family, the State, the -Church, and others should be dispensed with. In so far, however, as -in the drama under discussion, it is not the substantive content as -such in these spheres of life which constitutes the main interest of -individuals. Such ends are from a certain point of view particularized -in a breadth of extension and variety, as also in exceptional modes of -presentment, in which it often happens that what is truly essential is -only able to force itself on our attention with attenuated strength. -And over and above this fact, these ends receive an entirely altered -form. In the province of religion, for example, the content which -pre-eminently is asserted is no longer the particular ethical powers -exhibited imaginatively under the mode of divine individuals, either in -their own person or in the pathos of human heroes. It is the history of -Christ, or of saints and the like, which is now set before us. In the -political community it is mainly the position of kingship, the power of -vassal chiefs, the strife of dynasties, or the particular members of -one and the same ruling family which forms the content of the varied -picture. Nay, if we take a step further we find as the principal -subject-matter questions of civic or private right and other relations -of a similar character; and, further, we shall find a similar attention -paid to features in the family life which were not yet within the reach -of ancient drama. And the reason of this is that, inasmuch as in the -spheres of life above-mentioned the principle of the personal life in -its independence has asserted its claim, novel phases of existence make -their inevitable appearance in each one of them, which the modern man -claims to set up as the end and directory of his action. - -And, from a further point of view in this drama, it is the right -of subjectivity, as above defined, absolutely unqualified, which is -retained as the dominating content; and for this reason personal love, -honour, and the rest make such an exclusive appeal as ends of human -action that, while in one direction other relations cannot fail to -appear as the purely external background on which these interests -of our modern life are set in motion, in another such relations on -their own account actively conflict with the requirements of the more -individual state of emotion. Of more profound significance still is -wrong and crime, even assuming that a particular character does not -deliberately and to start with place himself in either, yet does not -avoid in order to attain his original purpose. - -And, furthermore, in contrast to this particularization and individual -standpoint, the ends proposed may likewise either in one direction -expand to cover the universality and all-inclusive embrace of the -content, or they are in another apprehended and carried into execution -as themselves intrinsically substantive. In the first respect, I will -merely recall to memory that typically philosophical tragedy, the -"Faust" of Goethe, in which, on the one hand, a spirit of disillusion -in the pursuit of science, and, on the other, the vital resources of a -worldly life and earthly enjoyment--in a word, the attempted mediation -in the tragic manner of an individual's wisdom and strife with the -Absolute in its essential significance and phenomenal manifestation, -offers a breadth of content such as no other dramatic poet has hitherto -ventured to include in one and the same composition. The "Carl Moor" -of Schiller is something of the same fashion. He rebels against the -entire order of civic society and the collective condition of the -world and the humanity of his time, and fortifies himself as such -against the same. Wallenstein in the same way conceives a great and -far-reaching purpose, the unity and peace of Germany, an object he -fails to carry into effect by the means which, in virtue of the fact -that they are wielded together in an artificial manner, and one that -lacks essential coherence, break in pieces and come to nought precisely -in the direction where he is most anxious of their success; and he -fails in the same way by reason of his opposition to the imperial -authority, upon which he himself and his enterprise are inevitably -shattered. Such objects of a world-wide policy, such as a Carl Moor or -a Wallenstein pursue, are as a rule not accomplished at the hands of -a single individual by the simple means that other men are induced to -obey and co-operate; they are carried into effect by the commanding -personality, partly acting in conjunction with the wills of many -others, and in part in opposition to, or at least on lines of which -they have no knowledge. As an illustration of a conception of objects -viewed in their essential significance, I will merely instance certain -tragedies of Calderon, in which love, honour, and similar virtues -are respectively to the rights and obligations in which they involve -the characters of the action, treated as so many unyielding laws of -independent force with all the stringency of a code. We find also -frequently much the same thing assumed in Schiller's tragic characters, -though the point of view is no doubt wholly different, at least to the -extent that such individuals conceive and combat for their ends with -the assumption they are universal and absolutely valid human rights. So -in the early play of "Kabale und Liebe" Major Ferdinand seeks to defend -the rights of Nature against the conveniences of fashionable society, -and, above all, claims of the Marquis Posa freedom of thought as an -inalienable possession of humanity. - -Generally speaking, however, in modern tragedy it is not the -substantive content of its object in the interest of which men act, -and which is maintained as the stimulus of their passion; rather -it is the inner experience of their heart and individual emotion, -or the particular qualities of their personality, which insist on -satisfaction. For even in the examples already referred to we find that -to a real extent in those heroes of Spanish honour and love the content -of their ultimate ends is so essentially of a personal character that -the rights and obligations deducible from the same are able to fuse in -direct concurrence with the individual desires of the heart, and to a -large extent, too, in the youthful works of Schiller this continual -insistence upon Nature, rights of man, and a converted world somewhat -savours of the excess of a wholly personal enthusiasm. And if it came -about that Schiller in later years endeavoured to enforce a more mature -type of pathos, this was simply due to the fact that it was his main -idea to restore once again in modern dramatic art the principle of -ancient tragedy. - -In order to emphasize still more distinctly the difference which in -this respect obtains between ancient and modern tragedy, I will merely -refer the reader to Shakespeare's "Hamlet." Here we find fundamentally -a collision similar to that which is introduced by Æschylus into his -"Choeporae" and that by Sophocles into his "Electra." For Hamlet's -father, too, and the King, as in these Greek plays, has been murdered, -and his mother has wedded the murderer. That which, however, in -the conception of the Greek dramatists possesses a certain ethical -justification--I mean the death of Agamemnon--relatively to his -sacrifice of Iphigeneia in the contrasted case of Shakespeare's play, -can only be viewed as an atrocious crime, of which Hamlet's mother -is innocent; so that the son is merely concerned in his vengeance to -direct his attention to the fratricidal king, and there is nothing in -the latter's character that possesses any real claim to his respect. -The real collision, therefore, does not turn on the fact that the son, -in giving effect to a rightful sense of vengeance, is himself forced -to violate morality, but rather on the particular personality, the -inner life of Hamlet, whose noble soul is not steeled to this kind of -energetic activity, but, while full of contempt for the world and life, -what between making up his mind and attempting to carry into effect or -preparing to carry into effect its resolves, is bandied from pillar -to post, and finally through his own procrastination and the external -course of events meets his own doom. - -If we now turn, in close connection with the above conclusions, to -our _second_ point of fundamental importance in modern tragedy--that -is to say, the nature of the characters and their collisions--we -may summarily take a point of departure from the following general -observations. - -The heroes of ancient classic tragedy discover circumstances under -which they, so long as they irrefragably adhere to the _one_ ethical -state of pathos which alone corresponds to their own already formed -personality, must infallibly come into conflict with an ethical -Power which opposes them and possesses an equal ethical claim to -recognition. Romantic characters, on the contrary, are from the first -placed within a wide expanse of contingent relations and conditions, -within which every sort of action is possible; so that the conflict, -to which no doubt the external conditions presupposed supply the -occasion, essentially abides within the _character_ itself, to which -the individuals concerned in their passion give effect, not, however, -in the interests of the ethical vindication of the truly substantive -claims, but for the simple reason that they are the kind of men they -are. Greek heroes also no doubt act in accordance with their particular -individuality; but this individuality, as before noted, if we take -for our examples the supreme results of ancient tragedy, is itself -necessarily identical with an ethical pathos which is substantive. In -modern tragedy the peculiar character in its real significance, and to -which it as a matter of accident remains constant, whether it happens -to grasp after that which on its own account is on moral grounds -justifiable, or is carried into wrong and crime, forms its resolves -under the dictate of personal wishes and necessities, or among other -things purely external considerations. In such a case, therefore, -though we may have a coalescence between the moral aspect of the object -and the character, yet, for all that, such a concurrence does not -constitute, and cannot constitute--owing to the divided character of -ends, passions, and the life wholly personal to the individual, the -_essential_ basis and objective condition of the depth and beauty of -the tragic drama. - -In view of the great variety of difference which further separates -particular characters in this type of poetry, it is impossible to do -much in the way of generalization. I will, therefore, restrict myself -to a reference to the following fundamental points of view. A primary -opposition which at once invites notice is that of an _abstract_, and -consequently formal, characterization in its contrast with the actual -individuals whom we are accustomed to meet in the concrete living -world. As example of this type, we may with exceptional pertinency cite -the tragic characters of the French and Italians, which, originating -in the imitation of ancient drama, to a greater or less degree merely -amount to pure personifications of specific passions, such as love, -honour, fame, ambition, tyranny, and so forth, and which, while they -present the motives of their actions, as also the gradation and -quality of their emotions to the best advantage with a lavish display -of declamation, and all the arts of rhetoric, none the less by doing -so rather resemble the dramatic failures of Seneca than the dramatic -masterpieces of the Greeks. Spanish tragedy also receives the stamp -of this abstract style of character-drawing. In this case, however, -the pathos of love, in its conflict with honour, friendship, royal -prerogative, and the rest is itself of so abstract a subjective -character that in the case where the intention is to make this equally -ideal[55] substantiality stand out as the genuine object of interest, -a more complete particularization of characters is hardly feasible. -The characters of Spanish drama, however, often possess a certain kind -of solidity, and, if I may use the expression, inflexible personality, -however wanting in content it may be, a feature that is absent from -French work; and at the same time Spanish writers, here also in -contrast to the cold simplicity which the movement of French tragedies -exhibits even in their tragic composition, know how to make up with the -cleverly invented abundance of interesting situations and developments -the deficiency referred to in the matter of characterization. - -In contrast to both these schools, and in their mastery of the -exposition of fully developed human characters and personality, -the English are exceptionally distinguished; and among them, and -soaring above the rest at an almost unapproachable height, stands -Shakespeare. For even in the cases where a purely formal passion, -as for instance ambition in Macbeth, or jealousy in Othello, claims -as its field the entire pathos[56] of his tragic hero, such an -abstraction impairs by no fraction the full breadth of the personality. -Despite of this restriction of analysis[57] the characters remain -throughout entire men. In fact, the more Shakespeare on the infinite -embrace of his world-stage, proceeds to develop the extreme limits -of evil and folly, to that extent, as I have already observed, on -these very boundaries--of course, not without real wealth of poetic -embellishment--he concentrates these characters in their limitations. -While doing so, however, he confers on them intelligence and -imagination; and, by means of the image in which they, by virtue of -that intelligence, contemplate themselves objectively as a work of art, -he makes them free artists of themselves, and is fully able, through -the complete virility and truth of his characterization, to awaken our -interest in criminals, no less than in the most vulgar and weak-witted -lubbers and fools. Of a similar nature is the style of expression he -makes his tragic characters adopt. It is at once individual, realistic, -emphatically vital, extraordinarily various, and, moreover, where -it seems advisable, it can rise to sublimity and is marked by an -overwhelming force of utterance. Its ideal intensity and its qualities -of invention are displayed in images and simile that flash from each -other with lightning rapidity. Its very rhetoric, here the barren -child of no school, but the growth of genuine emotion and penetration -into human personality, is such that, if we take into account this -extraordinary union of the directness of life itself and ideal -greatness of soul, we shall find it hard indeed to point to a single -other dramatic poet among the moderns whom we are entitled to rank in -his company. No doubt Goethe in his youth made a real effort to achieve -some approach to a like natural truth and detailed characterization; -but in the ideal force and exaltation of passion his rivalry collapses. -The style of Schiller, again, has shown an increasing tendency to -violent methods, the tempestuous expatiation of which lack the true -core of reality for their basis. - -Modern characters also differ in the nature of their _constancy_ or -their spiritual _vacillation_ and distraction. We find, no doubt, the -weakness of indecision, the fluctuations of reflection, the weighing -of reasons, conformably to which a resolve should be directed, here -and there in classic drama, and more particularly in the tragedies -of Euripides. But Euripides is a writer whose tendency is already to -forsake the wholly plastic completeness of characterization and action -and to develop exceptional aspects of personal sensibility. In modern -tragedy we meet yet more frequently such vacillating characters, more -particularly on the ground that they are essentially under the sway -of two opposed passions, which make them fluctuate from one resolve -or one kind of deed to another. I have already made some observations -on this attitude of vacillation in another context, and will now -merely supplement this by stating that, although the tragic action -must depend on colliding factors, yet where we find such a division in -_one_ and the same individual such a concurrence is always attended -with precarious consequences. And the reason is that this disruption -into interests, which are opposed to each other, is due in part to an -obscurity and obtuseness of the intelligence, and in some measure, -too, to weakness and immaturity. We come across characters of this -type in the creations of Goethe's younger days, notably Weisungen, -Fernando in "Stella," and above all Clavigo. They are, as we may -say, double men, who are unable to secure a ready, and so stable, -individuality. It is wholly another matter when two opposed spheres of -life or moral obligation are equally sacred to a character which, on -its own account, is not deficient in stability, and such a person is -under the necessity of ranking himself on _one_ side to the exclusion -of the other. In a case of that kind, the vacillation is merely a -moment of passage, and does not itself constitute, as it were, the -nervous system of the character. Again, of a somewhat similar kind, -is the tragic case where the spiritual life is seduced, despite its -nobler purpose, into objects of passion which are contradictory[58] -to the same, as in the case of Schiller's "Holy Maid," and are then -forced to seek a recovery from this division of the soul in their own -intimate or objective life, or pay the penalty. At the same time, this -personal tragedy of the distraction of soul-life, when it is made the -pivot on which the tragic action revolves,[59] contains, as a rule, -what is merely pitiful and painful, or, from another standpoint, -exasperating;[60] and the poet will rather do better to avoid it than -go out of his way to find it and develop it. The worst case is that, -however, where such a vacillation and veering round of character and -the entire personality is--the very dialectic of art being thrown awry -for this purpose--made the principle of the entire presentation, as -though the truth of all importance was to demonstrate that no character -is in itself firmly rooted and self-assured. The one-sided ends of -specific passions, it is true, ought not to bring about a realization -which is secured without a battle; and also, in everyday life, they -cannot fail to experience, through the reactionary power of conditions -and individuals which oppose them, their finite character and lack -of stability. An issue of this kind, however, before the appearance -of which we are unable to get the pertinent conclusion, ought not to -be introduced as a dialectical piece of wheel adjustment[61] in the -personality itself; if it is, the person concerned, viewed as _this_ -personal state of the soul, is a wholly empty and undefined form, -whose collective living growth is found, no less in respect to its -objects than in its character, to be wholly wanting in definition. In -much the same way the case, also, is otherwise, where the change in -the spiritual condition of the entire man itself appears as a direct -consequent of just this, its own kind of self-detachment, so that only -that is developed and emphasized which essentially and from the first -lay secured in the character. As an example, we find in Shakespeare's -Lear that the original folly of the old man is intensified to the point -of madness much in the same way that Gloster's spiritual blindness is -converted into actual physical blindness, in which for the first time -his eyes are opened to the true distinction in the love he entertains -for his two sons respectively. It is precisely Shakespeare who, as a -contrast to that exposition of vacillating and essentially self-divided -characters, supplies us with the finest examples of essentially stable -and consequential characters, who go to their doom precisely in virtue -of this tenacious hold upon themselves and their ends. Unsupported by -the sanction of the moral law, but rather carried onward by the formal -necessity of their personality, they suffer themselves to be involved -in their acts by the coil of external circumstances, or they plunge -blindly therein and maintain themselves there by sheer force of will, -even where all that they do is merely done because they are impelled to -assert themselves against others, or because they have simply come to -the particular point they have reached. The rise of insurgent passion, -one essentially consonant with a certain type of character, one which -has not as yet fully emerged, but now secures its utmost expansion, -this onward movement and process of a great soul, with all the intimate -traits of its evolution, this picture of its selfdestructive conflict -with circumstances, human and objective conditions and results, is the -main content of some of Shakespeare's most interesting tragedies. - -The last of the subjects which we have still to discuss as proposed -is the nature of the _tragic issue_ which characters in our present -drama have to confront, as also the type of tragic _reconciliation_ -compatible with such a standpoint. In ancient tragedy it is the eternal -justice which, as the absolute might of destiny, delivers and restores -the harmony of substantive being in its ethical character by its -opposition to the particular forces which, in their strain to assert -an independent subsistence, come into collision, and which, in virtue -of the rational ideality implied in its operations, satisfies us even -where we see the downfall of particular men. In so far as a justice -of the same kind is present in modern tragedy, it is necessarily, in -part, more abstract on account of the closer differentiation of ends -and characters, and, in part, of a colder nature and one that is more -akin to that of a criminal court, in virtue of the fact that the wrong -and crime into which individuals are necessarily carried, in so far -as they are intent upon executing their designs, are of a profounder -significance. Macbeth, for instance, the elder daughters of Lear and -their husbands, the president in "Kabale und Liebe," Richard III, -and many similar examples, on account of their atrocious conduct, -only deserve the fate they get. This type of _dénouement_ usually is -presented under the guise that individuals are crushed by an actual -force which they have defied in order to carry out their personal aims. -Wallenstein, for example, is shattered on the adamantine wall of the -imperial power; but the old Piccolomini, who, in order to maintain the -lawful régime, betrays a friend and misuses the rights of friendship, -is punished through the death and sacrifice of his son. Götz von -Berlichingen, too, attacks a dominant and securely founded political -order, and goes to ground, as also Weislingen and Adelheid, who range -themselves, no doubt, on the side of this organized power, but, through -wrongful deed and disloyalty, prepare the way to disaster. And along -with this we have the demand emphasized, in virtue of the personal -point of view of such characters, that these should of necessity appear -themselves to acknowledge the justice of their fate. Such a state of -acceptance may either be of a religious nature, in which case the -soul becomes conscious of a more exalted and indestructible condition -of blessedness with which to confront the collapse of its mundane -personality; or it may be of a more formal, albeit more worldly, type, -in so far, that is, as the strength and equanimity of the character -persists in its course up to the point of overthrow without breaking -asunder; and in this way, despite all circumstances and mischances, -preserves with unimpaired energy its personal freedom. Or, as a final -alternative, where the substance of such acceptance is of more real -value, by the recognition that the lot which the individual receives is -the one, however bitter it may be, which his action merits. - -From another point of view, however, we may see the tragic issue -also merely in the light of the effect of unhappy circumstances -and external accidents, which might have brought about, quite as -readily, a different result and a happy conclusion. From such a -point of view we have merely left us the conception that the modern -idea of individuality, with its searching definition of character, -circumstances, and developments, is handed over essentially to the -contingency of the earthly state, and must carry the fateful issues -of such finitude. Pure commiseration of this sort is, however, -destitute of meaning; and it is nothing less than a frightful kind of -external necessity in the particular case where we see the downfall -of essentially noble natures in their conflict thus assumed with the -mischance of purely external accidents. Such a course of events can -insistently arrest our attention; but in the result it can only be -horrible, and the demand is direct and irresistible that the external -accidents ought to accord with that which is identical with the -spiritual nature of such noble characters. Only as thus regarded can we -feel ourselves reconciled with the grievous end of Hamlet and Juliet. -From a purely external point of view, the death of Hamlet appears as -an accident occasioned by his duel with Laertes and the interchange of -the daggers. But in the background of Hamlet's soul, death is already -present from the first. The sandbank of finite condition will not -content his spirit. As the focus of such mourning and weakness, such -melancholy, such a loathing of all the conditions of life, we feel from -the first that, hemmed within such an environment of horror, he is a -lost man, whom the surfeit of the soul has wellnigh already done to -death before death itself approaches him from without. The same thing -may be observed in the case of Romeo and Juliet. The ground on which -these tender blossoms have been planted is alien to their nature; we -have no alternative left us but to lament the pathetic transiency of -such a beautiful love, which, as some tender rose in the vale of this -world of accident, is broken by rude storms and tempests, and the -frangible reckonings of noble and well-meaning devices. This pitiful -state of our emotions is, however, simply a feeling of reconciliation -that is painful, a kind of _unhappy blessedness_ in misfortune. - -(_ββ_) Much as poets present to us the bare downfall of particular -people they are also able to treat the similar contingency of the -development of events in such a way, that, despite of the fact the -circumstances in all other respects would appear to give them little -enough support, a happy issue of such conditions and characters is -secured, in which they elicit our interest. No doubt the favour of -such a destiny of events has at least an equal claim upon us as the -disfavour. And so far as the question merely concerns the nature of -this difference, I must admit that I prefer a happy conclusion. How -could it be otherwise? I can myself discover no better ground for the -preference of misfortune, simply on its own account as such, to a -happy resolution than that of a certain condition of fine sensibility, -which is devoted to pain and suffering, and experiences more interest -in their presence than in painless situations such as it meets with -every day. If therefore the interests are of such a nature, that it is -really not worth the trouble to sacrifice the men or women concerned -on their altar, it being possible for them either to surrender their -objects, without making such surrender as is equivalent to a surrender -of their individuality, or to mutually come to an agreement in respect -thereof, there is no reason why the conclusion should be tragic. The -tragic aspect of the conflicts and their resolution ought in principle -merely to be enforced in the cases where it is actually necessary -in order to satisfy the claim of a superior point of view. If this -necessity is absent there is no sufficient ground for mere suffering -and unhappiness. And it is simply due to this fact that social _plays_ -and _dramas_ originate which form, as it were, an intermediate link -between tragedies and comedies. I have already in a previous passage -explained the poetical standpoint of this class of composition. Among -us Germans we find it to some extent appropriating what readily moves -us in the world of the citizen and family life; in another direction -it is preoccupied with chivalry, a movement to which the Götz of -Goethe has given a decided stimulus; mainly, however, we may call it -the triumph of _ordinary morality_, which in the large majority of -cases is the main thing celebrated. The subject-matter of such plays -most in vogue are questions of finance or property, differences of -status, unfortunate love affairs, examples of spiritual baseness in -the more restricted conditions and affairs of life and so on. In one -word, what we have here is that which otherwise is already before our -eyes, only with this difference, that in such moral dramas, virtue and -duty obtain the victory, and crime is shamed and punished, or betakes -itself to repentance, so that in a moral conclusion of this kind the -reconciliation ought to centre in this, namely, that whatever happens -good is the result. Thereby the fundamental interest is concentrated -in the personal or spiritual quality of views held and a good or evil -heart. The more, however, the abstractly moral state of mind or heart -supplies the pivot on which all turns, so much the less can it be the -pathos of a particular matter, or an intrinsically essential object, to -which the personality in question is attached. And add to this, from -a further point of view, so much the less ultimately is the definite -character able to maintain itself and persist in such self-assertion. -If all is to be finally focussed in the purely moral aspects of the -psychological state, or the condition of the heart, from a subjective -point of view such as this, with its dominating emphasis on ethical -reflection, no standing ground remains for any other definite -characteristics, or at least specific ends to be proposed. Let the -heart break and change its views. Such seems to be the idea. Pathetic -dramas of this type, notably Kotzebue's "Menschenhass und Reue," -and also too many moral offences in the dramas of Iffland, strictly -speaking, have therefore an issue which we can neither call good or -bad. I mean by this that the main thing is as a rule the question of -pardon and the promise of moral improvement, and we are therefore -confronted with that possibility of spiritual conversion and surrender -of the self. No doubt in this fact we discover the exalted nature and -greatness of Spirit. When, however, the jolly dog,[62] as the heroes -of Kotzebue are for the most part, and not unfrequently Iffland's too, -after being a scamp and a rascal, suddenly promises to turn over a new -leaf, it is frankly impossible with a good-for-nothing chap of this -sort that his conversion can be otherwise than mere pretence, or of so -superficial a character that it merely affects his skin, and merely -supplies a momentary conclusion to the course of events that has no -substantial basis, but rather, by all ordinary reckoning, will take the -knave to disreputable quarters, if we will only acquaint ourselves with -his subsequent history. - -(_γγ_) As regards our _modern comedy_ I must draw particular attention -to one point of difference, to which I have already alluded when -discussing the old Attic comedy. The point is this--whether the -folly and restricted outlook of the characters of the drama merely -appears ridiculous to others, or is equally perceived as such by those -persons themselves; whether in short the comic characters are an -object of laughter only to the audience, or also to such characters. -Aristophanes, that creator of genuine comedy, exclusively accepted -as the main principle of his plays the latter alternative. Already, -however, in Greek comedy of a later date, and subsequently in the hands -of Plautus and Terence, the opposite principle came into vogue; and in -our modern examples of comedy it has been carried to such a length that -we find a large number of comic compositions the inclination of which -is more or less the subject-matter which is ridiculous in a purely -prosaic sense, or rather we might say matters that leave a sour taste -in the mouth of and are repugnant to the comic characters. This is -the standpoint of Molière in particular in his best comedies, which -have no right to be regarded as farces. The prosaic quality here is -justified on the ground that the objects aimed at by such characters -are a matter of bitter earnest. They are deadly serious in the pursuit -of it; they are therefore quite unable to join with satisfaction in the -laughter, when they are finally deceived, or themselves are responsible -for its failure. They are in short merely the disillusioned objects of -a laughter foreign to themselves and generally damaging to themselves. -As an example: Molière's Tartuffe _le faux dévot_, viewed as the -unmasking of a really damned rascal has nothing funny in it, but is a -very earnest business, and the deception of the deluded Orgon amounts -to a sheer intensity of misfortune, which can only be resolved by the -_Deus ex machina_, in reference to whom the official of the court of -justice utters the following exhortation: - - - Remettez-vous, monsieur, d'une alarme si chaude. - Nous vivons sous un prince, ennemi de la fraude, - Un prince dont les yeux se font jour dans les coeurs, - Et que ne peut tromper tout l'art des imposteurs. - - -We may add, too, that the odious abstract[63] excess of characters -so stable as, for example, Molière's "Miser," the absolutely stolid -and serious subjection of whom to his idiotic passion renders any -emancipation from such fetters impossible, contains in it nothing that -is genuinely comic. - -It is pre-eminently in this field that for compensation of such defects -a fine artistic power in the accurate and exhaustive delineation of -character is manifested, or a true mastery of the craft discovers its -best opportunity for an admirably thought-out intrigue. As a rule the -occasion for such an intrigue is supplied by the circumstance that some -character or other endeavours to secure his objects by deluding some -one else, such a course appearing to harmonize with these interests -and advance them. As a matter of fact, however, it only results in the -contradictory situation that it is through this pernicious demand they -are self-destructive. In opposition to such a plot we find as a rule -a similar plot of dissembled appearances put in motion, which has for -its object the like confusion of the original plotter. Such a general -scheme admits of an infinite number and degree of ups and downs in the -interweaving of its situations which are adapted to every conceivable -subtlety. The Spaniards are, in particular, the most consummate masters -in the invention of such intrigues and developments, and have composed -much that is delightful and excellent in this class of work. The -subject-matter generally consists of the attractive incidents of love -or affairs of honour and the like. In tragedy these bring about the -profoundest collisions; in comedy, however, where such qualities as -pride and love that has been long experienced do not assert themselves -as such, but rather by doing the reverse and in the result give the -lie to themselves, such interests can merely appear to us as entirely -superficial and comic.[64] A word in conclusion as to the characters -who hatch and carry out such intrigues. Such are usually, following -the example of the slaves in the Roman comedy, servants or menials, -who have no respect for the objects of their superiors, but rather -make them subordinate to their own advantage or bring them to nought, -and merely present us with the amusing position, that the real masters -are the servants and the masters the slaves, or at least give rise to -all kinds of comic situation, which come about accidentally, or are -directly the result of intention. We of course, as audience, are in the -know of such mysteries, and can fortify ourselves against every sort of -cunning and deceit, which often carries the most serious consequences -to fathers, uncles, aunts, and the rest, all of the most respectable -antecedents; and we may laugh as we please over the contradictory -situations that appear before us, or are involved in such ingenious -deceptions. - -In this kind of way our modern comedy, generally speaking, gives play -on the stage to private interests and personalities of the social life -I have mentioned in their accidental vagaries, laughable features, -abnormal habits and follies, partly by means of character delineation, -and partly with the help of comic developments of situations and -circumstances. A joviality so frank and genial as that which persists -in the Aristophanic comedy as the mediating element of its resolution, -does not animate this kind of comedy; or rather cases occur where -it can be actually repulsive, that is to say, where that which is -essentially evil, the tricks of menials, the treachery of sons and -wards towards worthy men, fathers and guardians is triumphant, always -assuming that the persons deluded have in no way themselves been -influenced by false prejudices or eccentricities of such a kind that -there is some reason why they should be made to appear ridiculous in -their helpless stupidity and handed over as the sport of the aims of -others. - -In a converse way, however, and in contrast as such to the above -generally prosaic type of treatment, the modern world, too, has -elaborated a world of comedy which is both truly comic and poetical -in its nature. The fundamental note here again is the cheeriness of -disposition, the inexhaustible resources of fun, no matter what may -be the nature of miscarriage or bad luck, the exuberance and dash of -what is at bottom nothing better than pure tomfoolery, and, in a word, -exploited self-assurance. We have here as a result, in yet profounder -expatiation, and yet more intense display of humour, whether the sphere -of it be more restricted or capacious, and whether the mode of it be -more or less important, what runs on parallel lines with that which -Aristophanes in the ancient world and in his own field created beyond -all rivalry. As the master, who in a similar way outshines all others -in his field, or rather the particular portion to which I now refer, -I will, though without now further entering into detail, once again -emphasize the name of William Shakespeare. - -* - -Having completed our review of the types under which comedy is -elaborated we have at last reached the absolute conclusion of our -scientific inquiry. We started with symbolical art, in which the -ideality of the human soul struggles to discover itself as content -and configuration, and, in a word, to become an object to itself. -We passed on to the plastic of classical art, which displays to -human vision that which has become unveiled to itself as substantive -being in man's vital personality. We reached our conclusion in the -romantic art of the individual soul-life, that inward world united to -the absolute medium of its self-conscious energy, which expatiates -unfettered within its own ideal life of Spirit; and which, content -with that realm, no longer unites itself with what is objective -and particularized, and finally makes itself aware of the negative -significance of such a resolution in the humour of the comic Spirit. -Nevertheless we find that in this very consummation it is Comedy which -opens the way to a dissolution of all that human art implies. For -the aim of all art is nothing else than that identity asserted and -displayed by the human Spirit, in which the eternal, the Divine, the -essential and explicated truth is unfolded in the forms and phenomenal -presence of the objective world to the apprehension of our external -senses and our emotional life and imagination. If, however, as is the -fact, comedy merely enforces this unity under a mode that annihilates -it, inasmuch as the absolute substance,[65] which strives here to -enforce its realized manifestation, perceives that this realization -is,--through the instrumentality of those interests which have now -secured an independent freedom within the embrace of the objective -world of Nature,[66] and are as such exclusively directed to what is -contingent and personal to the soul,--itself shattered, it follows that -the presence and activity of the Absolute is no longer truly asserted -in positive coalescence with the individual characters and ends of -existing objective reality, but rather solely gives effect to itself in -the negative form that everything which does not correspond with itself -is thereby cancelled, and all that remains is the presence of this -free personal activity of soul-life which is displayed in and along -with this dissolution as aware of itself and self-assured. - -By such a path, then, as this we have arrived at our goal; and with -the aid of our philosophical method have gathered every essential type -and determinant of the beauty and conformation of art into a garland, -the task of arranging which in its associate completeness belongs to -the most worthy of any within the range of human science to undertake. -For in human Art we are not merely dealing with playthings, however -pleasant or useful they may be, but with the liberation of the human -Spirit from the substance and forms of finite condition. We are -occupied with the presence and reconciliation of the Absolute in sense -and the phenomenal, with a revelation of truth, which is not exhausted -of its wealth in natural-history, but is unfolded in the history of -the world, as a constituent part of which Art supplies us with the -most beautiful point of view, the most generous reward for the severe -labours of our contact with objective reality and the grievous pains -of knowledge. And for this reason it was impossible that our inquiry -should wholly restrict itself to the criticism of individual works -of art, or any mere recipe or inducement to their production. Rather -it could have but the one object, namely, that of following up, of -seizing and retaining in and through the instrumentality of thought the -fundamental notion of beauty and art through all the stages which it -passes in its process of realization. - -If I may be permitted to assume that from the above explained point -of view my exposition has not been wholly inadequate to general -expectation, and that the bonds of obligation with which I have -throughout been united to my reader in the pursuit of an object which -we hold in common are now released, I will merely add the wish, it is -my last word, that a bond yet more exalted and indestructible with the -idea of beauty and truth may rivet itself between us in place of that -released, and establish an union which shall now and for good remain -secure. - - -[Footnote 1: _Diess treibende Pathos._ Pathos is here used to signify -the emotional state. This "motive force" would give the sense.] - -[Footnote 2: _Als konkretes Daseyn zur Existence gebracht._] - -[Footnote 3: _In der äusseren Objektivität._] - -[Footnote 4: The reference is of course to lyric composition. By _reale -Individualisirung_ Hegel seems to refer to the apprehension by the -lyric poet of the individual subjective experience in its independent -reality.] - -[Footnote 5: What Hegel means apparently by this statement is that -the results of the action are in the view of the persons concerned -primarily referred to their own act of volition and sense of -responsibility, and as such they modify their future intention or -conduct.] - -[Footnote 6: Poet. c. 5.] - -[Footnote 7: _Einem colliderenden Handeln._] - -[Footnote 8: As lyric poetry is.] - -[Footnote 9: Poet., c. 7.] - -[Footnote 10: The fact should be noted, however, that in the -illustration each division is a complete whole in itself.] - -[Footnote 11: Hegel apparently means this by his reference to _die -beiden ersten Elemente_, but the passage is not very clear.] - -[Footnote 12: _Gehalt_. That is, an imaginative personality, which -seizes the type and our general humanity.] - -[Footnote 13: In this obscure passage I have rather sought to emphasize -what appears to me the general sense than adhere to literal accuracy. -What is contrasted is clearly the naturalism of such a diction as -Schiller's "Robbers" and the French classic diction.] - -[Footnote 14: _Der Allgemeinheit._ We should say of "a more ideal or -creative atmosphere." The creative poet imports his own universality -into the final result both of diction and imaginative conception. Hegel -adheres to the philosophical term, which, apart from explanation, is -certainly very bald, and even, as it stands, unintelligible.] - -[Footnote 15: It is not very clear to what Hegel here refers unless to -the fact that female parts were played by youths.] - -[Footnote 16: We should say rather "stunned as by a blow," -_zerschmettert,_ rather than _zerschnitten._] - -[Footnote 17: _Eines grossen Gemüths._ It is not clear how far the -reference is to the poet or the characters. It applies to both.] - -[Footnote 18: Poet., c. 4.] - -[Footnote 19: Vol. I, pp. 355-379.] - -[Footnote 20: Poet., c. 6.] - -[Footnote 21: Apart from the practical impossibility of enforcing such -a condition in modern times, Hegel appears here rather to overlook -the fact that the printing of a work is of great convenience, and may -even involve less expense where its repetition in several theatres is -possible, and, after all, important drama is literature. Where the art -is bad it is no more possible to prevent its appearance, if the artist -is able to afford the expense of publication, than in any other art. -In the one case as in the other public taste and the law of supply and -demand are here the sole and ultimate tests. Sophocles may have written -his dramas, no doubt, with a particular stage in view, but we are not -therefore entitled to conclude that either he or Aristophanes would -have refused assent to the publication of any or all of their works had -there been a publisher willing to accept responsibility. Most certainly -we may suppose that Shakespeare would not have done so, at least after -due representation and revision. I have, however, met with students of -Shakespeare who maintain that no complete autograph manuscript of any -single drama of this poet ever existed.] - -[Footnote 22: I think it is obvious that if we take the case of the -finest musical reproduction by individual artists of the first rank -this distinction is not so emphatic as Hegel would make it out to -be. A really great musical performance is something much more than a -reproduction of musical sound. The effect of personality plays here a -part of real and essential importance.] - -[Footnote 23: _Rollenfächer._ Hegel may possibly mean "the professional -adjustment of harmonious castes."] - -[Footnote 24: See vol. III, pp. 427-430.] - -[Footnote 25: _Unmittelbaren Individualität._ Hegel means the -individuality that is abstract, not soldered into the substance of -concrete human life.] - -[Footnote 26: _Das Göttliche._] - -[Footnote 27: _In Gegentheil seiner._ Hegel means, apparently, that the -principle asserts itself positively rather than as the mere negation of -the finite, as in exclusive asceticism.] - -[Footnote 28: _Das Sittliche_, _i.e.,_ concrete ethical condition.] - -[Footnote 29: Hegel appears to understand by pathos here little more -than a psychological state.] - -[Footnote 30: _Element_, _i.e.,_ apparently, "this primitive impulse of -realization."] - -[Footnote 31: Hegel's language, _wenn sie itzt aber wirklich_, seems to -go as far as my translation. The difficulty of the entire passage, and -it is no doubt considerable, is primarily due to the fact that Hegel -is here importing into the notion of classic divinities the profounder -significance of what he calls _sittlichen Mächte_. By doing this he -can more readily shelve the problem how we are to regard the nature of -their existence as potential forces of the Divine Being; that is, apart -from their operative energy in human life, as also the _modus operandi_ -of such Divine energy in its original participation with a real -world. He avoids, no doubt, one of the most disputed aspects of his -philosophy. But if it is urged in criticism that at least in part his -present exposition tends rather to vagueness, or at least to accept a -certain measure of symbolism rather than remain severely on the ground -of genuine philosophical method and thought, to associate itself rather -with Plato than Aristotle, in the present context, at any rate, I am -inclined to agree with it.] - -[Footnote 32: _Der Gewalt des Anundfürsichseyenden._ Lit., of that -which is or becomes explicit on its own account, i.e., essentially. -Hegel refers, of course, to the ethical forces in the process of life.] - -[Footnote 33: Hegel here uses the word _einig_ rather in its secondary -sense than in its primary one of _unique._] - -[Footnote 34: _Als das zu Erhaltende,_ viz., the consistency of -concrete life.] - -[Footnote 35: By _ihrer unendlichen Sicherheit_ Hegel refers to -the stability of the principle of self-conscious, and self-assured -character, which in its weakness may be merely equivalent to -cocksuredness.] - -[Footnote 36: _Wohlgemuthkeit und Zuversicht_.] - -[Footnote 37: Hegel seems to have in his mind characters in comedy of -which Falstaff may be taken as a supreme example, and Shakespeare above -all the creator of many such. Roy Richmond and Sancho Panza are of the -same type.] - -[Footnote 38: _Der in der Menschenbrust waltenden Götter._] - -[Footnote 39: In no religious or even strictly ethical sense of course.] - -[Footnote 40: I am not quite sure what Hegel means by his use here of -the word _Versühnung_, lit., reconciliation. I presume he means a power -of harmonious recovery, whether in a good sense is not quite clear.] - -[Footnote 41: Formal as contrasted with really ethical content.] - -[Footnote 42: _Die Substanz_. I presume this is the meaning, _i.e_., -the substantive ideality of the ethical forces inherent in man. The -entire passage is sufficiently difficult to translate, or indeed wholly -to follow, or at least apart from its subsequent application to the -chorus of Tragedy.] - -[Footnote 43: _Allgemeine._ Formal in the sense that such a state is -not concretely realized in action, but restricts itself to the ideal -homogeneity of its form.] - -[Footnote 44: It is perhaps best to repeat Hegel's own phrase.] - -[Footnote 45: _Die sittliche Berechtigung zu einer bestimmten That._ -The context shows that Hegel does not merely mean the justification in -the individual conscience, which is demanded by and perfected in such -activity, but the actual ethical claim which is vindicated in such -action.] - -[Footnote 46: That is, the content of the dramatic action in Greek -drama.] - -[Footnote 47: By _Rechtfertigung_ Hegel here seems to mean not so much -the vindicated right as the degree of responsibility which a certain -attitude of mind involves. It is the nature of the subjection to the -vindicated right, or its absence.] - -[Footnote 48: By _die subjektive Vertiefung der Persönlichkeit_ Hegel -would seem to mean the psychological analysis of character on its own -account.] - -[Footnote 49: _Blosser Ausgleichung._ The metaphor seems to be that of -a final settlement of accounts, a general settlement would be perhaps a -better translation.] - -[Footnote 50: Hegel's statement is hardly supported by the facts as -they are narrated in the "Œdipus Rex." It is the force of facts rather -than a power of prevision, which arouse the knowledge of the terrible -truth. But Hegel is here evidently most absorbed in the ideal and -universal significance of the drama.] - -[Footnote 51: That is, of course, in death. Sophocles himself of course -only very indefinitely, through the evidence of an eye-witness, refers -to such a possible apotheosis.] - -[Footnote 52: The statement of the general contrast is no doubt true -enough. It may be doubted, however, whether Hegel's own interpretation -of the reconciliation of Œdipus as one consummated in death can be -wholly brought under the ancient conception. It would seem truer to -admit that in the spirit at least of the "Œdipus Coloneus" we have, at -least in so far as that reconciliation is objective, and not merely a -reconciling influence on our minds, the spectators, as in the case of -the deaths of King Lear or Cornelia, in the sense that "death makes all -things sweet," a mysterious approach to problems which Christianity -first attempted seriously to solve, and which are usually regarded -as insoluble without the assumption of a future state, or at least -a divine absorption. Even admitting that Œdipus in his death became -a real constituent of the harmonious unity of the civic life that -received him, we cannot with truth say that such a reconciliation was -one in which he shared personally, and whereof he was conscious, except -in so far as he was aware of this by prevision; and to that extent the -reconciliation was not in his death, but rather, as in the Christian -view, a condition of the soul, a conviction that by his death he would -live again,--almost identical in fact with some modern interpretations -of immortality.] - -[Footnote 53: Hegel means the conflict between the universal social -interest and the private interest, between the concrete social life and -the wholly private life.] - -[Footnote 54: I think this gives the nearest approach I can make to the -self-coined word _Grundwohlseyns_, lit., "the at bottom well being."] - -[Footnote 55: _Subjektiven Substantialität._ Ideal, that is, as -opposed to a substantive content based on the facts of living people. -Impersonations of qualities imagined rather than portraits of living -men, ideal therefore in a theoretic and bad sense.] - -[Footnote 56: As previously stated I adopt Hegel's expression, being -unable to express it otherwise better. The whole emotional condition is -more or less the meaning, but it is rooted in Greek literature.] - -[Footnote 57: _In dieser Bestimmtheit_, lit., in this particular -definition of their content.] - -[Footnote 58: Hegel may mean that the passions are opposed to each -other. The nett result is the same.] - -[Footnote 59: Lit., "Is made the tragic lever."] - -[Footnote 60: The epithet might mean also "suggestive of personal -irritation," but the other epithets rather negative this rendering.] - -[Footnote 61: _Räderwerk._ The whole of this passage, in its -theoretical analysis, is extremely difficult not merely to translate, -but to follow clearly.] - -[Footnote 62: I presume this is the meaning of _Pursche_ or _Bursche_, -and not merely "youngster."] - -[Footnote 63: Abstract in the sense that the vices are detached in -their extreme from concrete human nature.] - -[Footnote 64: I have made the best I can of a very badly expressed -sentence, and, as I should add, a very meagre description of the aim of -modern comic drama. I am, however, not quite satisfied that it is an -adequate translation, or that I have grasped what Hegel means by the -words _nicht gestehen zu wollen_. It would apply very aptly to such a -character as Sir Willoughby Patterne, but the pertinency of such an -epithet as _lang empfunden_ I fail to see. I doubt myself if we have -here anything more than a chance note of Hegel tacked in by editors. -The whole of the present paragraph is a very jejune description of the -treatment of the love passion or affairs of honour by modern drama. A -pity we cannot supplement it with the substance of Meredith's "Essay on -Comedy." The passage, however, must be read as qualified by the further -note lower down on the exuberance of one aspect of modern comedy. But -the reference to "Comedy" in the modern sense is a mere fragment.] - -[Footnote 65: That is, self-conscious life. The Absolute here seems to -be identified with man's self-conscious activity.] - -[Footnote 66: I think this is what Hegel must mean here by _im Elemente -der Wirklichkeit_, in the element, that is, of material reality.] - - - - - - -End of the Project Gutenberg EBook of The Philosophy of Fine Art, volume 4 -(of 4), by G. W. F. Hegel - -*** END OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK PHILOSOPHY OF FINE ART, VOL 4 *** - -***** This file should be named 55731-0.txt or 55731-0.zip ***** -This and all associated files of various formats will be found in: - http://www.gutenberg.org/5/5/7/3/55731/ - -Produced by Laura Natal Rodriguez & Marc D'Hooghe at Free -Literature (online soon in an extended version,also linking -to free sources for education worldwide ... MOOC's, -educational materials,...) 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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; -} - - </style> - </head> -<body> - - -<pre> - -The Project Gutenberg EBook of The Philosophy of Fine Art, volume 4 (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 4 (of 4) - Hegel's Aesthetik - -Author: G. W. F. Hegel - -Translator: Francis Plumptre Beresford Osmaston - -Release Date: October 11, 2017 [EBook #55731] - -Language: English - -Character set encoding: UTF-8 - -*** START OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK PHILOSOPHY OF FINE ART, VOL 4 *** - - - - -Produced by Laura Natal Rodriguez & 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 IV</h4> - -<h5>LONDON</h5> - -<h5>G. BELL AND SONS, LTD.</h5> - -<h5>1920</h5> - -<hr class="full" /> -<div class="figcenter" style="width: 500px;"> -<img src="images/hegel.jpg" width="500" alt="" /> -</div> -<blockquote> - -<h4>CONTENTS OF VOL. IV</h4> - - -<h5>SUBSECTION III</h5> - -<h5>THE ROMANTIC ARTS<i>—continued</i></h5> - -<h5>CHAPTER III</h5> - -<h5>POETRY</h5> - - -<p>Introduction <span class="linenum"> <a href="#Page_3">3</a></span></p> - -<p>[Summary and contrast between poetry and the other -particular arts. Its relation to the other two romantic -arts. Absence of all external sensuous presence. -Poetry appeals to imaginative vision. Not so direct as -sense-perception. Advantage over painting through its -ability to display facts in their historical succession or -natural process. Far profounder and more extended embrace -of world of idea than in music; due to its greater power -of definition in speech and its use of tone merely as a -subordinate instrument. The content of poetry is the ideal -envisagement of imaginative content itself. Everything made -intelligible by language may form part of content, subject -to the condition that it is poetical. Analysis of what -this condition implies. The imagination of artist must be -Contributive; distinction from mere prose consciousness and -thinking. In its entire independence of the material of -sense it may be defined as the universal art. The material -is the imagination, and as such conjoint with all the arts. -It is, however, not the only art open to philosophical -review on this ground. It marks, however, the commencement -of the disintegration of Art, its bridge of passage to the -notion of religion and philosophical thought] <span class="linenum"> <a href="#Page_3">3</a></span></p> - -<p>Subdivision of subject-matter <span class="linenum"> <a href="#Page_17">17</a></span></p> - -<p class="p2">I. Poetical composition as distinguished from that of Prose -<span class="linenum"> <a href="#Page_19">19</a></span></p> - -<p>1. The poetical and prosaic composition <span class="linenum"> <a href="#Page_20">20</a></span></p> - -<p>(<i>a</i>) The world of natural or prosaic fact relatively -excluded. Primarily what it deals with is the infinite -domain of Spirit and the energies of its life <span class="linenum"> <a href="#Page_21">21</a></span></p> - -<p>(<i>b</i>) Distinction between poetical and prosaic conception <span class="linenum"> <a href="#Page_21">21</a></span></p> - -<p>[(<i>α</i>) Poetical anterior to the prosaic form of artistic -speech. It is the original imaginative grasp of truth. Dates -from first effort of man at self-expression. Endeavours to -make that expression of a higher virtue than mere prose <span class="linenum"> <a href="#Page_22">22</a></span></p> - -<p>(<i>β</i>) The kind of prose life from which poetry is separate -postulates a different kind of conception and speech. The -finite categories of the understanding applicable to the -former. The ideal rationale of fact is aimed at by poetry. -Its affinity with and distinction from pure thought <span class="linenum"> <a href="#Page_23">23</a></span></p> - -<p>(<i>γ</i>) Difference between the relation of poetic conception -to prosaic in early times and more modern, where the prosaic -form of life has become stereotyped in a definite system] <span class="linenum"> <a href="#Page_26">26</a></span></p> - -<p>(<i>c</i>) The nature of the differentiation of poetical activity -in different ages and nations <span class="linenum"> <a href="#Page_26">26</a></span></p> - -<p>[(<i>α</i>) It has no particular epoch of unique celebration. It -embraces the collective Spirit of man. It is conditioned by -the outlook of various nations and epochs <span class="linenum"> <a href="#Page_27">27</a></span></p> - -<p>(<i>β</i>) Some of these have closer affinity with its essential -spirit, <i>e.g.,</i> the Oriental in comparison with the Western -nations, if we exclude Greece <span class="linenum"> <a href="#Page_27">27</a></span></p> - -<p>(<i>γ</i>) Modern interest in Hellenic and certain portions of -Oriental poetry] <span class="linenum"> <a href="#Page_28">28</a></span></p> - -<p>2. The Art-product of poetry and prose <span class="linenum"> <a href="#Page_29">29</a></span></p> - -<p>(<i>a</i>) The artistic composition of poetry generally <span class="linenum"> <a href="#Page_29">29</a></span></p> - -<p>[(<i>α</i>) It must possess intrinsic unity. The action must be -conceived as that of particular men or women. There must be -vital coalescence of characters, events, and actions. Unity -in the nature of a process and a differentiation of parts -which coalesce therein <span class="linenum"> <a href="#Page_29">29</a></span></p> - -<p>(<i>β</i>) Nature of this organic differentiation and synthesis. -Tendency of Art to particularization. Delight in detail. -Nature of its treatment of such detail. Result, a secure -self-subsistency <span class="linenum"> <a href="#Page_31">31</a></span></p> - -<p>(<i>γ</i>) Substantive unity preserved. Display of particular -features, despite all opposition, must combine in a union -of mysterious accord. The unity is essential and organic. It -is the soul of the entirety. Parallel in musical trichord. -Varied type of artistic form in the Epic, the Drama, and the -Lyric] <span class="linenum"> <a href="#Page_34">34</a></span></p> - -<p>(<i>b</i>) History and oratory compared with the poetical product -<span class="linenum"> <a href="#Page_38">38</a></span></p> - -<p>[(<i>α</i>) The arts of history and oratory come into closest -affinity with poetical composition. History implies great -ends, cannot rest content with mere chronicles. Herodotus, -Thucydides, Xenophon, and Tacitus. Products of the art of -language, but not entirely free art. The nature of the -historical content prohibits this. The prosaic element in -the historical age and the historical treatment defined <span class="linenum"> <a href="#Page_38">38</a></span></p> - -<p>(<i>β</i>) Oratory appears to be closer to the freedom of Art. -The orator appeals to the whole man. It is directed to -the enunciation of principles. It is none the less almost -wholly relative to the rule of practical utility. Religious -oratory. It is in the service of a collateral purpose] <span class="linenum"> <a href="#Page_42">42</a></span></p> - -<p>(<i>c</i>) The free poetical work of Art <span class="linenum"> <a href="#Page_47">47</a></span></p> - -<p>[(<i>α</i>) The attitude of the poet in his work, to contingent -and insignificant fact and local conditions, actions, -events, etc. <span class="linenum"> <a href="#Page_47">47</a></span></p> - -<p>(<i>β</i>) The end of Art not practical as in oratory. Nor is it -to edification. <i>Poems d'occasion</i> <span class="linenum"> <a href="#Page_49">49</a></span></p> - -<p>(<i>γ</i>) It is an essentially infinite (self-rounded) organism. -Permeated with a principle of unity. Independent of any one -particular condition of Life or Nature] <span class="linenum"> <a href="#Page_51">51</a></span></p> - -<p>3. The creative impulse of the Poet <span class="linenum"> <a href="#Page_51">51</a></span></p> - -<p>[(<i>a</i>) Less under restriction in respect to his medium. The -problem proposed in one respect more easy, and in another -more difficult than that of the other arts. Technical -control of the medium which is easier makes the demand for -imaginative penetration the greater <span class="linenum"> <a href="#Page_52">52</a></span></p> - -<p>(<i>b</i>) Being operative in the realm of imaginative idea -itself poetry has to guard against encroaching upon -the spheres of religion, philosophy, and the ordinary -consciousness as such <span class="linenum"> <a href="#Page_53">53</a></span></p> - -<p>(<i>c</i>) To a greater extent than in the other arts the poet -has transfused the external mode of envisagement, which -he creates, with the vitality of soul-life. Mohammedan -poetry. The creative energy must be absolutely free from all -restrictions imposed by the material handled] <span class="linenum"> <a href="#Page_53">53</a></span></p> - -<p class="p2">II. The Expression of Poetry <span class="linenum"> <a href="#Page_56">56</a></span></p> - -<p>1. The poetical Conception <span class="linenum"> <a href="#Page_57">57</a></span></p> - -<p>(<i>a</i>) Poetical conception in its origins <span class="linenum"> <a href="#Page_58">58</a></span></p> - -<p>[In its origin not consciously distinct from the prosaic -or scientific consciousness. In general terms the poetic -imagination is plastic. Illustration of difference between -the concrete poetical image and the abstract concept] <span class="linenum"> <a href="#Page_58">58</a></span></p> - -<p>(<i>b</i>) Distinction between poetic mode of conception and that -of prose. Language of poetical metaphor and imagery less -accurate than the definition of prosaic fact <span class="linenum"> <a href="#Page_61">61</a></span></p> - -<p>(<i>c</i>) Exceptional difficulties which confront the poet of -a world where the distinction between ordinary prose life -and imagination is emphasised. Artificial appearance of his -creations. Difficulty of retaining spontaneous simplicity -and freshness</p> - -<p>2. Verbal Expression <span class="linenum"> <a href="#Page_63">63</a></span></p> - -<p>(<i>a</i>) Poetical speech generally <span class="linenum"> <a href="#Page_64">64</a></span></p> - -<p>[Another mode of speech necessitated by the fact that the -world of poetry and art in general should not be identical -with that of ordinary life, or that of science and religion] -<span class="linenum"> <a href="#Page_65">65</a></span></p> - -<p>(<i>b</i>) The means by which this is realized <span class="linenum"> <a href="#Page_65">65</a></span></p> - -<p>[(<i>α</i>) Particular words and expressions only proper to -poetry. Entitled to borrow from language forms obsolete in -ordinary speech. The invention exercised in creating novel -modes of utterance <span class="linenum"> <a href="#Page_66">66</a></span></p> - -<p>(<i>β</i>) The relative order of words admits of change; how the -licence in this respect may be abused and degenerate into -rhetoric and declamation <span class="linenum"> <a href="#Page_66">66</a></span></p> - -<p>(<i>γ</i>) The periods of poetical construction composed in -accordance with the ideality of the soul-experience -embodied] <span class="linenum"> <a href="#Page_66">66</a></span></p> - -<p>(<i>c</i>) Distinctions in the use of these means <span class="linenum"> <a href="#Page_66">66</a></span></p> - -<p>[(<i>α</i>) Poetry in the age where poetry is the one revealer of -spiritual truth. Force of creative power and simplicity of -diction most obvious features. Creation of a poetic diction -by Dante <span class="linenum"> <a href="#Page_66">66</a></span></p> - -<p>(<i>β</i>) Distinction from above in an age where prose diction -already elaborated. Expression of poetry becomes more -elaborate and eventually more self-conscious and rhetorical. -The poetry of Rome. The satire. Spanish poetry <span class="linenum"> <a href="#Page_67">67</a></span></p> - -<p>(<i>γ</i>) The nature of genuine poetical expression. Spontaneity -above all essential] <span class="linenum"> <a href="#Page_69">69</a></span></p> - -<p>3. Versification.</p> - -<p>[Only a superficial view would banish it. It is implied in -the demand that the medium should be elaborated by Art and -that the realm entered should be other than every-day life] -<span class="linenum"> <a href="#Page_70">70</a></span></p> - -<p>(<i>a</i>) Rhythmical Versification (that is, without rhyme)</p> - -<p>[(<i>α</i>) Made by time-duration and the movement. Starting -point in the natural length and shortness of syllables. -The distinctions of the sound of words in consonants and -vowels contribute the basis of this. Description and -illustration. Poetry regulates the accidental interchange -of various syllables and words. Time-duration. Nature of -dactyl, anapaest, etc. It further regulates the particular -time-relations in a series of verse-lines. The iambic metre, -etc. Problem of time-beats in the metre of the ancients. No -necessity as in music for abstract time-beat <span class="linenum"> <a href="#Page_74">74</a></span></p> - -<p>(<i>β</i>) The accent and caesura. Every time-relation has its -particular accent. Particular feet ought not with abstract -precision to be identical with beginning and conclusion of -single words. The caesura checks the monotony of measure. -Further independent verbal accent. Fundamental influence -on the measure of the poetical idea. Also a definite type -of content corresponds with the entire character of a -particular verse-measure. The use of hexameter, elegiacs, -and iambics in this respect <span class="linenum"> <a href="#Page_78">78</a></span></p> - -<p>(<i>γ</i>) Rhythmical versification embraces the actual musical -sound of syllables and words. The stem-syllable in the Greek -and Latin languages. Aspects of the German language in this -respect. In modern languages the element of rhythm less room -for display. This in itself necessitates the alternative of -rhyme as a resistant against the too exclusive assertion of -ideal content] <span class="linenum"> <a href="#Page_81">81</a></span></p> - -<p>(<i>b</i>) Rhyme <span class="linenum"> <a href="#Page_84">84</a></span></p> - -<p>[(<i>α</i>) Rhyme a necessary feature of romantic poetry. Closer -approximation to music. Reaction against the stringent -character of Roman poetry. Source of rhyme in Germanic -languages <span class="linenum"> <a href="#Page_86">86</a></span></p> - -<p>(<i>β</i>) Difference between two systems. Rhythmical -versification supreme in Hellenic poetry. Most important -change effected that of the validity of the national -quantity in the older system. This replaced by the intrinsic -meaning of syllables and words. French and Italian poetry an -extreme example of the collapse of the former system. The -necessity of rhyme and its character analysed <span class="linenum"> <a href="#Page_86">86</a></span></p> - -<p>(<i>γ</i>) The types of modern romantic poetry. Its alliteration, -assonance, and ordinary rhyme. Scandinavian poetry. Not -necessary for assonant words to come only at conclusion of -line. Rhyme is the fulfilment of alliteration and assonance. -Pre-eminently the form of lyric poetry. Examples] <span class="linenum"> <a href="#Page_92">92</a></span></p> - -<p>(<i>c</i>) The union of rhythm and rhyme</p> - -<p>[(<i>α</i>) Attempt made in modern times to return to the -natural quantity of syllables. Not generally successful. -Overwhelming importance in modern verse of intelligible -significance and the accent thus asserted <span class="linenum"> <a href="#Page_95">95</a></span></p> - -<p>(<i>β</i>) Not possible to retain the plastic consistency of -the metrical medium as secured by classical poetry. Modern -languages do not possess the stable quantitative basis <span class="linenum"> <a href="#Page_96">96</a></span></p> - -<p>(<i>γ</i>) The combination equivalent to the absorption by modern -versification of the older system. The significance of -the identical repetition of the same time-measure. Modern -imitation of sapphics and alcaics based on a contradiction] -<span class="linenum"> <a href="#Page_97">97</a></span></p> - -<p class="p2">III. The Several Generic Types of Poetry <span class="linenum"> <a href="#Page_99">99</a></span></p> - -<p>Introduction and Division of Subject <span class="linenum"><a href="#Page_100">100</a></span></p> - -<p>A. Epic Poetry <span class="linenum"><a href="#Page_106">106</a></span></p> - -<p>1. General character of Epic poetry <span class="linenum"><a href="#Page_106">106</a></span></p> - -<p>(<i>a</i>) Epigrams and Gnomes <span class="linenum"><a href="#Page_106">106</a></span></p> - -<p>(<i>b</i>) Philosophical didactic poems, Cosmogonies and -Theogonies <span class="linenum"><a href="#Page_108">108</a></span></p> - -<p>(<i>c</i>) The genuine Epopaea <span class="linenum"><a href="#Page_110">110</a></span></p> - -<p>[(<i>α</i>) The saga, the bible of a folk. Not every national -bible can rank as Epos. Greeks possess no ancient religious -books resembling Hindoo literature <span class="linenum"><a href="#Page_111">111</a></span></p> - -<p>(<i>β</i>) Not necessarily composed in the heroic time itself. -Homer. Views expressed which belong to earlier times <span class="linenum"><a href="#Page_112">112</a></span></p> - -<p>(<i>γ</i>) Position of the epic poet. His work a free creation. -He must feel at home in the world he depicts. Objective -independence of composition. The work of one artist] <span class="linenum"><a href="#Page_115">115</a></span></p> - -<p>2. Particular Characteristics of true Epos <span class="linenum"><a href="#Page_118">118</a></span></p> - -<p>(<i>a</i>) The general World-condition of the Epos <span class="linenum"><a href="#Page_119">119</a></span></p> - -<p>[(<i>α</i>) A positive social state conjoined to primitive -simplicity. Intuitive sense of right the support of moral -order. Vital human association with nature and particular -objects possessed. Heroic condition, <i>e.g.,</i> that of free -individuality. Examples. Expresses entire horizon of -national condition <span class="linenum"><a href="#Page_120">120</a></span></p> - -<p>(<i>β</i>) The mirror must be of one particular people. The -Hellenic spirit in Homer. A foreign locale not necessarily -prejudicial to artistic effect. The remoteness to present -ideas of the "Niebelungen Lied" <span class="linenum"><a href="#Page_125">125</a></span></p> - -<p>(<i>γ</i>) Main event of poem must be a deliberately conceived -purpose. It must imply collisions. The belligerent condition -most pertinent. The Odyssey not only an exception. Courage -the fundamental interest. Justification of such attitude] <span class="linenum"><a href="#Page_128">128</a></span></p> - -<p>(<i>b</i>) The individual Epic action <span class="linenum"><a href="#Page_135">135</a></span></p> - -<p>[(<i>α</i>) Must be one of individual vitality. Must appropriate -form of an event, and the happening of such. Analysis. -Problem of an absolute Epos. Mere biography not most -complete subject-matter. "The Divine Comedy" only partially -an exception <span class="linenum"><a href="#Page_134">134</a></span></p> - -<p>(<i>β</i>) Question of human personality implied. Epic character -must be a totality. Achilles, the Cid, and other heroes, -discussed. Circumstances as active as persons. Illustrations -<span class="linenum"><a href="#Page_139">139</a></span></p> - -<p>(<i>γ</i>) The form under which the intrinsic significance of -the occurrence proclaims itself, whether as ideal Necessity -or disclosed spiritual forces. Destiny. What it defines. -General tone of sadness in the Epic. Different modes of -appearance. Poems of Ossian, and others. Loss of original -freshness in Latin poetry. Virgil] <span class="linenum"><a href="#Page_143">143</a></span></p> - -<p>(<i>c</i>) The Epos as unified totality <span class="linenum"><a href="#Page_152">152</a></span></p> - -<p>[(<i>α</i>) The unity of the assumed general background and -the individuals therein. Humanity displayed in its entire -collective relation of all interests and occupations. The -individual event. The commencement of the Iliad and Odyssey -<span class="linenum"><a href="#Page_153">153</a></span></p> - -<p>(<i>β</i>) The difference between the epic mode of disclosure and -that of the Lyric or drama. Greater extension of range. In -the epic work character may give way to external condition. -Objective nature of its exposition. Motivisation of drama -and the Epic entirely different. Examples from Homer and -modern poetry <span class="linenum"><a href="#Page_157">157</a></span></p> - -<p>(<i>γ</i>) Nature of unity of Epos. Though not of most importance -essential to artistic result. Insistence upon fundamental -unity of the Homeric poems. Epic unity within a national -whole. Distinction from dramatic action. The Idyll. The -novel as the Epopaea of modern society] <span class="linenum"><a href="#Page_164">164</a></span></p> - -<p>3. The historical development of epic Poetry <span class="linenum"><a href="#Page_172">172</a></span></p> - -<p>(<i>a</i>) The Oriental Epos <span class="linenum"><a href="#Page_174">174</a></span></p> - -<p>[(<i>α</i>) Epos of Hindoos and Persians. The sense of the unity -of the One Substance <span class="linenum"><a href="#Page_174">174</a></span></p> - -<p>(<i>β</i>) Contrast between Hindoo and Persian Epos. The Ramajana -and Maha-Bharata <span class="linenum"><a href="#Page_176">176</a></span></p> - -<p>(<i>γ</i>) Hebrew Epic poetry] <span class="linenum"><a href="#Page_176">176</a></span></p> - -<p>(<i>b</i>) Epic poetry of Greece and Rome <span class="linenum"><a href="#Page_178">178</a></span></p> - -<p>[(<i>α</i>) Essential unity of Iliad and Odyssey. The <i>ne plus -ultra</i> of attainment. The cyclic poets <span class="linenum"><a href="#Page_178">178</a></span></p> - -<p>(<i>β</i>) Roman Epos cannot compare in quality with the Greek -prototype] <span class="linenum"><a href="#Page_179">179</a></span></p> - -<p>(<i>c</i>) The Romantic Epos.</p> - -<p>[The poems of Ossian. The Edda. National character of epic -poems of Middle Ages. "The Cid." The peculiar nature of -Dante's "Divine Comedy." The poems relating to Charlemagne, -King Arthur, etc. The revolt against Chivalry in Ariosto and -Cervantes. The "Lysiad" of Camoens. Milton's "Paradise Lost" -and Klopstock's "Messias"] <span class="linenum"><a href="#Page_180">180</a></span></p> - -<p>B. Lyric Poetry <span class="linenum"><a href="#Page_193">193</a></span></p> - -<p>1. General character of lyric poetry <span class="linenum"><a href="#Page_195">195</a></span></p> - -<p>[(<i>a</i>) The content of lyric poetry <span class="linenum"><a href="#Page_196">196</a></span></p> - -<p>(<i>α</i>) Not merely translation of content from immediacy of -experience. Creation of object purified from the incidental -mood. Deliverance thus effected. Self-expression not the -development of objective action. We have the universal as -such. The entire sphere of human belief, religion, art, and -to some extent scientific thought comprised as they fall -into a personal view of the world <span class="linenum"><a href="#Page_190">190</a></span></p> - -<p>(<i>β</i>) Aspect of particularity. The Eumenides chorus in the -"Cranes" of Ibicus. The Elegy and Epistle <span class="linenum"><a href="#Page_197">197</a></span></p> - -<p>(<i>γ</i>) Emphasis throughout on personal feeling. Parallel with -genre painting. Contingency of content. Growth of whole in -temperament] <span class="linenum"><a href="#Page_197">197</a></span></p> - -<p>(<i>b</i>) The form of the same</p> - -<p>[(<i>α</i>) Unity different from that of Epos. Mysterious -intimacy of personal mood. Approximates to Epos in heroic -songs, ballads, and romances. The Greek Anthology <span class="linenum"><a href="#Page_199">199</a></span></p> - -<p>(<i>β</i>) <i>Poems d'occasion.</i> Personal aspect. Pindaric Odes. -Goethe. Individual soul supplied focus of unity rather than -positive reality <span class="linenum"><a href="#Page_201">201</a></span></p> - -<p>(<i>γ</i>) Point of departure an external occurrence either in -personal experience or that of others. Element of narrative -as in songs of Anacreon] <span class="linenum"><a href="#Page_203">203</a></span></p> - -<p>(<i>c</i>) The external culture condition of the Lyric. <span class="linenum"><a href="#Page_200">200</a></span></p> - -<p>[(<i>α</i>) Different from that of Epic. Not limited to one -particular epoch, but exceptionally displayed in modern -times. Folk-songs and the lyric poem <span class="linenum"><a href="#Page_207">207</a></span></p> - -<p>(<i>β</i>) Possesses a power of free expansion into all kinds of -subject-matter, a free recognition of imaginative conception -no less than artistic activity <span class="linenum"><a href="#Page_210">210</a></span></p> - -<p>(<i>γ</i>) The philosophical lyric poem. A false and a genuine -style compared. Schiller's poetry] <span class="linenum"><a href="#Page_212">212</a></span></p> - -<p>2. Particular aspects of the Lyric <span class="linenum"><a href="#Page_213">213</a></span></p> - -<p>(a) The lyric poet <span class="linenum"><a href="#Page_214">214</a></span></p> - -<p>[(<i>α</i>) The poet himself supplies the principle of -combination. He is the focus of unity <span class="linenum"><a href="#Page_214">214</a></span></p> - -<p>(<i>β</i>) Spontaneity of result. Sings because he cannot help -it. His object himself. Self-respect. Pindar and Klopstock -<span class="linenum"><a href="#Page_215">215</a></span></p> - -<p>(<i>γ</i>) Creative in dealing with personal experience. Goethe a -fine example] <span class="linenum"><a href="#Page_217">217</a></span></p> - -<p>(<i>b</i>) The lyric work of art <span class="linenum"><a href="#Page_217">217</a></span></p> - -<p>[(<i>α</i>) The unity of the Lyric. Springs from memory or vivid -association of poet. The formal unity of self-conscious -life. Mood must be defined in its concreteness, not tend too -much to generalization <span class="linenum"><a href="#Page_218">218</a></span></p> - -<p>(<i>β</i>) Nature of the progressive disclosure of content. The -principle of the Lyric is assimilation. Poems limited to -local description. Mainly a definition of emotional forces -made vital in objects as seen by the "inward eye." Episodes -permissible. Passionate intensity in its freedom <span class="linenum"><a href="#Page_219">219</a></span></p> - -<p>(<i>γ</i>) External form of the Lyric. Variety of metres. Varied -use of caesura. Strophes which admit of much alternation, -both as to length of line, and their rhythmic structure. -Musical sound of words and syllables. Free use of assonance, -alliteration and rhyme, especially the diversified use of -last-mentioned. Association with musical accompaniment] <span class="linenum"><a href="#Page_221">221</a></span></p> - -<p>(<i>c</i>) Types of the genuine Lyric <span class="linenum"><a href="#Page_225">225</a></span></p> - -<p>[(<i>α</i>) Hymns, dithyrambs, paeans and psalms. Personal -religious emotion. Greek treatment of chorus. Psalms of Old -Testament <span class="linenum"><a href="#Page_225">225</a></span></p> - -<p>(<i>β</i>) Personal life of poet the subject-matter. Not so much -the subject as the enthusiasm or personal note. Pindaric -Odes. Horace. Klopstock <span class="linenum"><a href="#Page_228">228</a></span></p> - -<p>(<i>γ</i>) The song as such. A field of blossom ever starting -anew. The Oriental and Western type. Anacreon. Protestant -hymns. Sonnet, elegy, epistle, etc. Dithyrambic emotion of -Schiller] <span class="linenum"><a href="#Page_230">230</a></span></p> - -<p>3. Historical evolution of the Lyric <span class="linenum"><a href="#Page_235">235</a></span></p> - -<p>(<i>a</i>) Oriental lyrical poetry</p> - -<p>[Vital absorption in the object. Objective character as -compared with pure romantic. Hymns of exaltation. Metaphor, -image, and simile particularly favoured. Present in Chinese, -Hindoo, Hebrew, Arab and Persian poetry] <span class="linenum"><a href="#Page_236">236</a></span></p> - -<p>(<i>b</i>) The Lyric of the Greeks and Romans</p> - -<p>[General character that of classic individuality. -Image and metaphor not so largely used. Emphasizes mainly on -the sensuous verbal quantity in the rhythm of its movement. -The dance not unfrequently attached. Point of departure -hymns. Elegiac measure. The lyric of the chorus. Pindar. -Roman lyric less original] <span class="linenum"><a href="#Page_238">238</a></span></p> - -<p>(<i>c</i>) Romantic Lyric.</p> - -<p>[In certain nations epic material treated as lyrical -narrative. Lyric composition of modern nations still pagan. -In the Christian Middle Ages. That based on the principle of -Protestantism. Klopstock and his influence] <span class="linenum"><a href="#Page_242">242</a></span></p> - -<p>C. Dramatic Poetry <span class="linenum"><a href="#Page_248">248</a></span></p> - -<p>1. The Drama as a poetic work of art <span class="linenum"><a href="#Page_249">249</a></span></p> - -<p>(<i>a</i>) The principle of dramatic poetry <span class="linenum"><a href="#Page_249">249</a></span></p> - -<p>[(<i>α</i>) Depends on conditions of collision, human passion, -and characters. Leads to action and resolution of conflict. -Product of a condition of cultured life <span class="linenum"><a href="#Page_250">250</a></span></p> - -<p>(<i>β</i>) Mediation between epic and lyric poetry. Has to bring -before vision action or event, but it is self-conscious -personality which is the vital force. Dramatic action must -submit to a process of development. Has to exhibit not so -much lyrical emotion as situation. Action the executed -will recognized as such in its ultimate purpose. The -external world only borrowed in so far as it is bound to -this purpose. More concentrated than the Epic. Action so -treated that it inevitably meets with opposition. Nature of -the divine forces operative. The Drama propounds the vital -energy of a principle of Necessity <span class="linenum"><a href="#Page_250">250</a></span></p> - -<p>(<i>γ</i>) The nature of the demand on the dramatic poet in -respect to the divine energy. The drama is the resolution -of the one-sided aspect of these powers, the self-stability -whereof is disclosed in dramatic character] <span class="linenum"><a href="#Page_254">254</a></span></p> - -<p>(<i>b</i>) Dramatic Composition <span class="linenum"><a href="#Page_255">255</a></span></p> - -<p>[(<i>α</i>) The unity as contrasted with the Epos and the Lyric. -Unity of place, time, and action. First no support to from -Aristotle. Nature of demand upon the imagination relative -to fact of direct vision. Unity of action alone invariable. -Romantic drama less consistent than classical. Examples from -Shakespeare <span class="linenum"><a href="#Page_256">256</a></span></p> - -<p>(<i>β</i>) Mode of <i>dénouement</i>. Embrace of material in Epos -more extensive. Mean between that and lyrical poetry. -True dramatic progression, a continuous movement onwards -to catastrophe. Possesses a beginning, middle and end. -Aristotle. Significance of acts and their number. In -English, French, and German drama generally five <span class="linenum"><a href="#Page_261">261</a></span></p> - -<p>(<i>γ</i>) Nature of means, <i>e.g.,</i> dramatic diction, etc. -Realistic mode of expression as contrasted with one -conventional to the theatre. Must neither be too formal nor -too unpolished or colloquial. Choral interlude, monologue, -and dialogue. Verse-measure mainly iambic] <span class="linenum"><a href="#Page_264">264</a></span></p> - -<p>(<i>c</i>) The relation of the dramatic composition to the Public -<span class="linenum"><a href="#Page_270">270</a></span></p> - -<p>[(<i>α</i>) Distinct Public to cater for and under obligation to -it. Fashion of German writers to scorn the Public. Mistaken -view. How far possible to reproduce foreign or ancient drama -<span class="linenum"><a href="#Page_272">272</a></span></p> - -<p>(<i>β</i>) Dramatis personae must be vital not merely personified -interests. Real emphasis on the collision involved. Goethe's -"Iphigeneia" <span class="linenum"><a href="#Page_273">273</a></span></p> - -<p>(<i>γ</i>) Attitude of poet himself. The impression of the -whole as the product of one original creative force most -important. Necessity that the dramatic poet master the -eternal and essential foundation of human character and -action. Worst case where he seeks to flatter a popular -prejudice. Reference to contemporary event. Aristophanes. -Didactic matter only admissible in so far as it is no bar to -the freedom of the entire artistic product] <span class="linenum"><a href="#Page_275">275</a></span></p> - -<p>2. The external Technique of a dramatic Composition <span class="linenum"><a href="#Page_278">278</a></span> -(<i>a</i>) The reading or recitation of a dramatic work <span class="linenum"><a href="#Page_280">280</a></span></p> - -<p>[(<i>α</i>) True sensuous medium of drama the human voice. Modern -plays often impracticable in the theatre. Contrast of Greek -drama in this respect <span class="linenum"><a href="#Page_280">280</a></span></p> - -<p>(<i>β</i>) Plays written for perusal only. Theatrical -reproduction a real test of dramatic vitality. Question -whether dramatic works should be printed <span class="linenum"><a href="#Page_281">281</a></span></p> - -<p>(<i>γ</i>) Perusal no sufficient test of the acting possibilities -of a drama. Recitation subject to the serious restriction -that it is the expression of one voice only] <span class="linenum"><a href="#Page_283">283</a></span></p> - -<p>(<i>b</i>) The art of the Actor <span class="linenum"><a href="#Page_284">284</a></span></p> - -<p>[(<i>α</i>) Among the Greeks acting affiliated to sculpture. -Ancients added music to declamation. Means of interpretation -in motion of the body. The dance. Plastic character of Greek -performance <span class="linenum"><a href="#Page_285">285</a></span></p> - -<p>(<i>β</i>) Speech used solely as spiritual expression in modern -acting. Coalescence of actor's personality with his rôle. -Facial expression. Increase particularisation in modern -character. Illustrations. Increase of difficulties. Modern -actor an artist] <span class="linenum"><a href="#Page_286">286</a></span></p> - -<p>(<i>c</i>) The theatrical art which is more independent of Poetry -289</p> - -<p>[(<i>α</i>) Plays written for the display of the particular -talent of actors. The Italian <i>commedia dell' arte.</i> French -attitude to audience <span class="linenum"><a href="#Page_289">289</a></span></p> - -<p>(<i>β</i>) Modern opera. Luxurious display of scenic accessories. -Schiller's "Maid of Orleans." Mozart's "Magic Flute" <span class="linenum"><a href="#Page_291">291</a></span></p> - -<p>(<i>γ</i>) The Ballet. The proper subordination of the dance] <span class="linenum"><a href="#Page_292">292</a></span></p> - -<p>3. Types of dramatic poetry and the chief phases of their -historical development <span class="linenum"><a href="#Page_292">292</a></span></p> - -<p>(<i>a</i>) The principle of Tragedy, Comedy, and the Play <span class="linenum"><a href="#Page_293">293</a></span></p> - -<p>[(<i>α</i>) The principle as associated with tragedy in its -essential and primitive form. The content of tragic action -supplied by spiritual forces which carry with them their -own justification, <i>e.g.</i>, love of husband, wife, parents, -or children, patriotism, social life, etc. The substance -in which the greatness and stability of the tragic hero -consists. Theme of primitive tragedy generally the godlike -in its mundane character. Forces realized as the determinate -aim of human pathos. A collision in which both aspects are -justified from one point of view. Tragic resolution of -division. Meaning of Aristotle's dictum that tragedy excites -and purifies fear and pity. Sense of reconciliation <span class="linenum"><a href="#Page_295">295</a></span></p> - -<p>(<i>β</i>) In Tragedy what is eternally substantive is vindicated -under a mode of reconciliation. In Comedy the purely -personal experience retains the mastery throughout. Nature -of social basis of comedy. The comic. The conception of it -in Molière and Aristophanes. Requires a resolution even more -strongly than tragedy <span class="linenum">301</span></p> - -<p>(<i>γ</i>) The Satyric drama. Plautus. The modern dramatic play. -Illustrations from classical drama. Boundary lines fluctuate -more than in the case of genuine tragedy and comedy. -Tendency to pass from poetic form altogether. Theatrical -pieces exhibited for mere display of histrionic talent or -psychological analysis, or as a mere social relaxation] <span class="linenum"><a href="#Page_305">305</a></span></p> - -<p>(<i>b</i>) The difference between ancient and modern Drama <span class="linenum"><a href="#Page_308">308</a></span></p> - -<p>[(<i>α</i>) No genuine Oriental dramatic art. Principle of -individual freedom. Origins among Hindoos and Chinese <span class="linenum"><a href="#Page_308">308</a></span></p> - -<p>(<i>β</i>) True beginning among the Hellenes. The universal and -substantive content of the end, which individuals seek to -achieve. Exceptional plot and intrigue and varied display of -individual character not emphasized <span class="linenum"><a href="#Page_309">309</a></span></p> - -<p>(<i>γ</i>) In modern drama it is rather the destiny of some -particular character under exceptional circumstances which -forms the subject-matter. Interest directed not so much -to ethical vindication and destiny as to the isolation of -the individual and his conditions. Crime as a motive not -excluded. Formal greatness of character demanded. Variety -of characterization, and maze of plot and intrigue. In -tragedy further the paramount presence of a more exalted -order of the world,—whether conceived as Providence or -Fatality,—accepted] <span class="linenum"><a href="#Page_310">310</a></span></p> - -<p>(<i>c</i>) The concrete development of dramatic poetry and its -types <span class="linenum"><a href="#Page_312">312</a></span></p> - -<p>[(<i>α</i>) Greek drama. Roman drama an attenuated reflection. -Survey limited to Æschylus, Sophocles, and Aristophanes. -Background of ancient tragedy the heroic condition. Analysis -of modes under which ethical content of human action -asserted. The unsevered consciousness of the godlike and the -combating human action, presented under the form of chorus -and heroic figures. Significance of chorus. Opposition -between social obligation and private sense of duty. -Antigone. Modern conception of guilt and innocence no place -in Greek tragedy in strict sense. Final end reconciliation -of forces of human action. Such a <i>dénouement</i> not merely -an ethical issue. Contrast between such and the Justice of -the Greek Epos. Illustrations. Antigone. Œdipus. Orestes. -Conception of old classical Comedy. The laughter of the -Olympian gods made present in man. Aristophanes] <span class="linenum"><a href="#Page_312">312</a></span></p> - -<p>(<i>β</i>) Modern dramatic art</p> - -<p>[(i) The ends which ought to come into the process of the -action as the content of the characters. Borrowed from the -concrete world of religious and social life. Not however, -the particular ethical forces as of individuals which assert -them, <i>e.g.</i>, Christ, the saints, kings, vassals, and -members of ruling families. Features of the private life -accepted not within scope of ancient drama. Personal love, -honour, etc. make an exclusive appeal. Faust. Wallenstein. -Generally it is the inner experience of soul-life which -demands satisfaction. Comparison of problem of Hamlet with -that of the Choephorae.</p> - -<p>(ii) Nature of characters and collisions. Conflict -abides essentially in the character itself. Abstract -characterization of French and Italian poetry, also Spanish. -In contrast to this that of the English, and above all -Shakespeare. Goethe and Schiller. Vacillation of character. -"King Lear." - -**(iii) Nature of tragic issue. Justice of more -abstract nature than in ancient tragedy. The issue as the -effect of misfortune. "Romeo and Juliet," a kind of unhappy -blessedness in misfortune. Social plays the link between -tragedy and comedy. As a rule the triumph of ordinary -morality celebrated. Modern comedy. Question whether folly -is ridiculous only to others, or to the comic character -also. The second type mainly that of Aristophanes, the first -that of Molière. Invention of the intrigue or intricate -plot. Comparison of Shakespeare's comedy with that of -Aristophanes] <span class="linenum"><a href="#Page_330">330</a></span></p> - -<p class="p2">Final Summary and Conclusion <span class="linenum"><a href="#Page_348">348</a></span></p></blockquote> - - - -<hr class="chap" /> -<h5>THIRD PART</h5> - -<h3>THE SYSTEM OF THE PARTICULAR ARTS</h3> - -<h5>SUBSECTION III</h5> - -<h4>THE ROMANTIC ARTS</h4> - -<h6>(CONTINUED)</h6> - - - -<hr class="chap" /> -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_3" id="Page_3">[Pg 3]</a></span></p> - -<h5><a name="CHAPTER_III" id="CHAPTER_III">CHAPTER III</a></h5> - -<h4>POETRY</h4> - -<h5>INTRODUCTION</h5> - - -<h4>I</h4> - -<p>The temple of classical architecture demands a god, who resides -therein. Sculpture exhibits the same in plastic beauty, and confers -forms on the material it employs for this purpose, which do not in -their nature remain external to what is spiritual, but are the form -itself immanent in the defined content. The corporeality, however, and -sensuousness, no less than the ideal universality of the sculptured -figure, are opposed on the one hand to subjective ideality, and in part -to the particularity of the individual, in whose element the content -of the religious, no less than also the worldly life, must secure -reality by virtue of a novel form of art. This mode of expression, -which is of subjective import, and at the same time particularized in -its characterization, the art of painting itself contributes under -the principle of the plastic arts. In other words it subordinates the -realistic expression of form to the more ideal presentment of colour, -and makes the expression of the ideality of soul the central point<a name="FNanchor_1_1" id="FNanchor_1_1"></a><a href="#Footnote_1_1" class="fnanchor">[1]</a> -of the presentment. The universal sphere, however, in which these -arts are motived, the one in the ideal of symbolism, the other in the -plastic ideal, the third in the romantic type, is the sensuous or -<i>external</i> form of spirit and natural objects.</p> - -<p>The spiritual content possesses, however, as essentially<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_4" id="Page_4">[Pg 4]</a></span> appertinent -to the ideality of consciousness, a determinate existence which is for -this ideality at the same time foreign to the medium itself of the -external appearance and envisagement presented to it by material form. -From this foreign element it is further necessary that it removes its -conceptions in order to place them in a realm which, in respect to -material no less than the mode of expression, is independently of an -ideal or subjective character. This was the forward step which we saw -<i>music</i> make, in so far as it embodied pure ideality and subjective -emotion in the configurations of essentially resonant sound rather than -in visible forms. It, however, passed by this very means into a further -extreme, that is, an ideal mode of concentration not fully explicit, -whose content in musical tones itself only found symbolic expression. -For tone taken by itself is without content, and has its definition in -the numerical relations, so that what is qualitative in the spiritual -content no doubt generally corresponds to these quantitative relations -which are expressed in essential differences, oppositions, and -mediation, but in its qualitative determinacy is not entirely able to -receive its impression in musical tone. If this aspect is not wholly to -fail the art of music must, by reason of its onesidedness, summon to -its assistance the more definite articulation of language, and requires -for its more secure attachment to particularity and the characteristic -expression of the content a text, without which it is unable to -complete fully the ideality which is poured forth by means of musical -tones.</p> - -<p>By virtue of this expression of ideas and emotions, the abstract -ideality of music receives a clearer and more secure exposition. At -the same time what we have here unfolded by its means is, to a certain -extent, not the point of view of idea and the artistic mode adapted -to its expression, but merely the emotional life as it accompanies -the same; also in part we find that here, too, music entirely divests -itself of fusion with the verbal text in order to develop its own -movement without restraint in the world of tone simply. For this reason -the realm of idea, which is unable to remain under I such a more purely -abstract mode of ideal intensity, and seeks a configuration in a world -which embraces its one homogeneous and concrete reality, breaks away on -its part likewise from the bond of music, and in the exclusive<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_5" id="Page_5">[Pg 5]</a></span> art of -poetry discovers the adequate realization it demands.</p> - -<p><i>Poetry,</i> in other words the art of human speech, is the <i>third</i> -or final step, the <i>totality</i>, which unites and embraces in a yet -higher sphere, in the sphere of the very life of Spirit itself,<a name="FNanchor_2_2" id="FNanchor_2_2"></a><a href="#Footnote_2_2" class="fnanchor">[2]</a> -the two extremes of the plastic arts and music. For on the one hand -poetry contains just as music does the principle which apprehends an -ideal content in its ideality, the principle which in architecture, -sculpture, and painting is lost, or at most incompletely asserted. -And on the other hand it expatiates itself, under the modes of ideal -conception, intuition, and feeling simply, in an objective world, -which does not entirely destroy the defined forms of sculpture and -painting, and is capable of unfolding all the conditions of an event, a -succession or interchange of emotional states, passions, conceptions, -and the exclusive course of human action with more completeness than -any other art.</p> - -<p>2. But in a still more intimate way the art of poetry constitutes a -third or final term in its relation to painting and music regarded as -the <i>romantic</i> arts.</p> - -<p>(<i>a</i>) One reason of this is that its principle is that generally of -an <i>intelligence</i> which has nothing further to do with gross matter -as such, seeking, as is the case with architecture, to transform it -through symbolism to an environment related analogically to spiritual -life, or as in the case of sculpture in order to implant upon material -substance the natural form congenial to such life under the spatial -condition of its expression. What the end is now is to express -immediately for mind the manifestations of Spirit with all its ideas -of imagination and art, without setting forth their external and -visible bodily presence. And a further reason consists in this, that -poetry is able to grasp in the form of ideality itself and with a far -greater wealth than is possible for music or painting, not merely the -innermost actuality of conscious life, but also what is particular and -individual in external existence, and equally able to contrast such -facts in the complete diversity of their specific traits and accidental -peculiarities.</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_6" id="Page_6">[Pg 6]</a></span></p> - -<p>(<i>b</i>) The art of poetry is, however, as totality, also again, from -another point of view, essentially to be distinguished from the -above-mentioned arts whose fundamental qualities it thus in a measure -combines.</p> - -<p>(<i>α</i>) In this respect, if we compare it with painting, the latter art -is throughout at an advantage, where it is of importance to bring -before our senses a content under the condition of its external -appearance. It is true no doubt that poetry is able by various means -to envisualize objects precisely in the way that for the imagination -generally the principle of objectification is made real to our -intuitive sense. But in so far as conceptive power, in the element -of which poetry pre-eminently moves, is of a spiritual nature and -implies the presence of the universality of thought, it is incapable -of attaining the definition of sensuous perception. On the other hand, -the varied traits which poetry brings together, in order to make the -concrete form of a content visible, do not fall as with painting -into one and the same totality, which is set before us wholly as a -simultaneous appearance of all its details, but they break apart, -inasmuch as the imagination can only give us the complexity it contains -under the form of succession. This is, however, only a defect from the -sensuous point of view, a defect which reason is able in its own way -to rectify. That is to say, inasmuch as human speech, even in the case -where it endeavours to summon before our sight a concrete object, is -not concerned with the sensuous apprehension of an immediate external -object, but always with the ideal relation, the mental intuition, for -this reason the particular characteristics, albeit they are set before -us in a series, are nevertheless fused together in the element of one -essentially homogeneous spirit, which is able to qualify the effect of -succession, to bring the varied array into one picture, and to secure -and enjoy this picture in imaginative contemplation. Moreover, this -deficiency of sensuous realization and objective definition, when -we contrast poetry with painting, brings as a contrary result the -possibility of an incalculable superfluity of material. For inasmuch -as the poetic art in painting restricts itself to a determinate -space, and even more to a distinct moment in a situation or action, -for this reason <span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_7" id="Page_7">[Pg 7]</a></span>it is prevented from portraying an object in its -entire ideal profundity no less than in the extension of its temporal -development. But what is true is throughout concrete in the sense that -it comprises within its embrace a unity of essential determinations. -In its phenomenal appearance, however, these are not merely unfolded -as a co-existent spatial phenomenon but in a temporal series as a -history, whose course painting is only able to present in a relatively -inadequate manner. Even in the case of every stalk, every tree, each -has in this sense its history, a change, sequence, and exclusive whole -of varied conditions. And this is even more true of the sphere of -spirit, which can only be exhaustively portrayed as veritable spirit -in phenomenal guise when it is set before our imagination as such a -process.</p> - -<p>(<i>β</i>) We have already seen that poetry possesses for its external -medium that of tone in common with <i>music</i>. The wholly external, or, -as we might say in the false sense of the expression, the objective -material in the progressive series of the particular arts finally -vanishes in the subjective medium of sound, which is divested of all -visibility, and which suffers an ideal content only to be apprehended -by a conscious state independent of sight.<a name="FNanchor_3_3" id="FNanchor_3_3"></a><a href="#Footnote_3_3" class="fnanchor">[3]</a> For music, however, the -configuration of musical <i>tone</i> as such is the essential end. For -although the soul in the course and movement of melody and its harmonic -relations presents what is ideal in objects, or its own ideal content, -to the emotional life; yet the ideality thus presented is not pure -ideality, but the human soul interwoven in the closest way with the -musical tone as its expression, and the configuration of such musical -expression which confers on music its true character. So much is this -the case that music receives its independent position as an art just in -proportion as the animation given by it to the emotional life is more -emphasized in the world of pure music than in that of man's ordinary -spiritual activity.<a name="FNanchor_4_4" id="FNanchor_4_4"></a><a href="#Footnote_4_4" class="fnanchor">[4]</a> But for this very reason it is only to a -relative degree capable of reproducing the variety of spiritual ideas<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_8" id="Page_8">[Pg 8]</a></span> -and intuitions, the entire extension of the ideal wealth of conscious -life: it remains restricted to the more abstract universality of all -that it grasps as content, and the more indefinite manifestations of -our emotion.</p> - -<p>In the like degree, then, that mind (<i>Geist</i>) elaborates the more -abstract universality in a concrete whole of idea, ends, actions, and -events, and no less contributes to its conformation the particularizing -perception, it not only forsakes the subjective life of mere emotion -and builds up that life into an unfolded realm of objective reality -in this case, too, within the ideal world of the imagination itself, -it is compelled, by virtue of the nature of such transformation, to -forsake the attempt to express the new realm thus secured solely -and exclusively by means of tone relations. Precisely as the medium -of sculpture is too poor to express the more ample content that it -is the function of the art of painting to call into life, so too -the conditions of musical tone and melodic expression are unable to -realize fully the imaginative pictures of the poet. For these in part -possess the ideas more accurately defined to consciousness and, in -part, the form of external appearance impressed on the inner sense -of perceptive reason. Spirit consequently withdraws its content from -musical tone as such, and declares itself through words, which it is -true do not entirely forsake the element of sound, but sink to the -purely external sign of the communication. In other words, by means of -this repletion with spiritual ideas, musical tone becomes the voice of -articulate words; language, in its turn, is diverted from an end in -itself to a means of ideal expression which has lost its independent -self-subsistancy. This constitutes in fact what we have already -established as the essential difference between music and poetry. The -content of the art of speech is the collective art of the world of -ideas elaborated by the imagination, the spiritual which remains at -home in its vision, which remains in this ideal realm, and, even in -its movement toward an objective world, is only conscious of the same -as a symbol that differs from its own conscious content. In music -art reproduces the penetration of Spirit in<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_9" id="Page_9">[Pg 9]</a></span> a sensuously apparent -and present form. In poetry it even forsakes the element of <i>musical -tone</i> and articulation opposed to it, at least to the extent that this -musical tone is no longer reclothed in fully adequate externality -and the exclusive expression of that content. The ideal no doubt is -expressed, but it fails to discover its real existence in the sensuous -medium of tone, despite the fact that it is of a more ideal character; -this it discovers exclusively in its own essential content, by virtue -of which it expresses the content of mind as it is realized in the -ideality of the imagination simply as such.</p> - -<p>(<i>c</i>) In the <i>third</i> place, and finally, if we consider the specific -character of poetry relatively to this distinction between music and -painting, and we may include with it the other plastic arts, we shall -find the same simply to consist in the subordination of the mode under -which all poetical content is envisaged and configured by the medium of -sense. In other words, when tone, as it does in the art of music, or -for that matter, colour as in that of painting, no longer essentially -recovers and expresses the entire content, in that case the musical -treatment of the composition under its aspects of time, no less than -those of harmony and melody, drops away; we have left us merely the -generalized configuration of the time-measure of syllables and words, -to which we may add rhythm, euphony, and the like. And further, it is -to be noted that we have this, not in the sense of a genuine medium for -the content, but rather as a mode of externality which is accidental, -and which only receives an artistic form, because art cannot permit any -mode of its external manifestation whatever to be entirely a question -of accidental caprice.</p> - -<p>(<i>α</i>) In connection with this withdrawal of the spiritual content from -the sensuous medium we are at once met with the question what it is -then which, under such a view, constitutes the actual externality or -objectivity in poetry, that of tone being thus excluded. The answer -to this is simple. It is the <i>ideal envisagement</i> and <i>imaginative -content</i> itself. We have here spiritual forms substituted for sensuous, -and<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_10" id="Page_10">[Pg 10]</a></span> supply a configurative material, such as we met with before in -marble, bronze, colour, or musical tones. In other words, we must guard -ourselves from such an inadequate statement of the facts as that ideas -and imagery are nothing more or less than the <i>content</i> of poetry. -This is unquestionably true in a sense, as we shall demonstrate more -closely later on. Despite this, however, we are equally justified -in asserting that idea, imagery, emotion, and the like are specific -modes, under which every content in poetry is subsumed and manifested; -and consequently, that is, owing to the fact that the sensuous -aspect of the communication remains throughout a purely accidental -one<a name="FNanchor_5_5" id="FNanchor_5_5"></a><a href="#Footnote_5_5" class="fnanchor">[5]</a>—it is these forms which supply the real material which the -poet has to elaborate artistically. No doubt the fact, the content, -must in poetry, as in other arts, receive its due objectification -for spirit; objectivity in this sense, however, is the exchange of -what was previously an external reality for one that is ideal; one -which receives an existence exclusively in conscious life itself, as -something conceived or imagined exclusively by mind. Mind is here on -its own ground objective to itself, and it suffers the medium of speech -merely as a means, that is to say, partly as one of communication, and -partly as one of immediate externality, from which, as from the pure -symbol merely, it is withdrawn throughout from itself into itself. For -this reason, in the case of genuine poetry, it is of no consequence -whether a poetical work be read in private or listened to; and for the -same reason it can also, without essential depreciation of its value, -be translated into other tongues, be transferred from versification -into prose, and thereby transmitted in tonal relations of an entirely -different character.[6]</p> - -<p>(<i>β</i>) In the <i>second</i> place the question presents itself as to the -<i>nature</i> of the object <i>for</i> which the ideal concept is employed in -poetry. We answer that it is thus used relatively to essential truth -in everything of interest to Spirit; not merely, that is, relatively -to what is substantiv<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_11" id="Page_11">[Pg 11]</a></span>e in the same in the universality of its -symbolic significance or classical differentiation, but equally to -all that is at the same time specific and particular, in short, to -practically everything in and with which mind is in any way interested -and concerned. The art of language, consequently, both in respect to -its content and the mode under which that content is made explicit, -possesses a field of immeasurable compass, wholly incomparable with -that of the other arts. Every content, every sort of spiritual or -natural fact, event, history, deed, action, all conditions, whether -ideal or external, fall within the domain and configurative powers of -poetry.</p> - -<p>(<i>γ</i>) Material of this most varied character is not, however, made -poetical merely by reason of the fact that it is in a general way the -content of idea. Ordinary consciousness is able to elaborate precisely -the same content in the field of ideas, and to particularize concepts -without creating any poetical result. We recognized this fact when we -called the concept of mind merely the <i>material</i> or medium, which only -receives a form adapted for poetry, in so far as it partakes of a novel -configuration by virtue of art. In precisely the same way mere colour -and tone in their immediacy are not as such the colour or tone of a -painter or a musician. We may in a general way describe the distinction -by stating that it is not the <i>idea as such</i>, but the <i>imagination</i> of -the <i>artist</i> which creates a poetical content, under conditions, that -is, in which the imagination grasps the same content in such a way that -it is itself therewith associated in language, words and their more -beautiful conjunction as human speech, just as in the other arts we -find it present in the architectonic form; the plastic of sculpture, -that adapted to painting, or musical tones and harmony.</p> - -<p>A further necessary limitation of the art's appearance is this that -the content must, on the one hand, not be embraced in relations -applicable to mere <i>thinking</i>, whether that of science or speculative -philosophy, nor further in the form of inarticulate <i>emotion</i>, or with -a clarity and self-sufficiency which appeals <i>exclusively</i> to the -organs of sense;<a name="FNanchor_6_6" id="FNanchor_6_6"></a><a href="#Footnote_6_6" class="fnanchor">[6]</a> neither, in another direction, must it suffer the -idea to pass<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_12" id="Page_12">[Pg 12]</a></span> entirely into what we may in general terms describe as -the contingency, divisions, and relativity of <i>finite</i> reality. The -imagination of the poet in this respect must maintain a middle course -between the abstract universality of pure thinking and the concrete -corporeality of material objects, in so far as we are acquainted with -the latter in the productions of the plastic arts. Furthermore such an -art must generally conform to the requirements we have, in an early -section of this work, insisted as essential to every art-product. In -other words, the art itself must find in its content the adequate -object of its appearance, must elaborate everything, which it embraces, -so far as the interest appeals to the intelligence simply,<a name="FNanchor_7_7" id="FNanchor_7_7"></a><a href="#Footnote_7_7" class="fnanchor">[7]</a> as an -essentially independent and self-exclusive world. Only in so far as -it does this is the demand of art satisfied, and the content thereof -becomes, by virtue of the specific mode of <i>its</i> manifestation, an -organic whole, which in its parts presents the appearance of a limited -association and ideal synthesis, while at the same time, as contrasted -with the world of accidental subordinations, its consistency is one of -essential freedom, a whole made explicit through itself.</p> - -<p>3. The last point to which we must in conclusion draw attention in -respect to this distinction between poetry and the other arts is -connected with the different mode under which the imagination of the -poet substantiates its ideas in the objective medium of its exposition. -The arts hitherto considered were entirely serious in their attachment -to the material of sense, a medium in which they themselves were -operative, in so far as they merely bestowed on their content a -form, which could be throughout accepted and elaborated by means of -conglomerations of material substance, whether bronze, marble, or wood, -or the media of colour and tones.<a name="FNanchor_8_8" id="FNanchor_8_8"></a><a href="#Footnote_8_8" class="fnanchor">[8]</a> In a certain sense, no doubt, -poetry also has to meet a condition somewhat similar. That is to say, -in poetical composition we must not overlook the fact that its results -have to be intelligible to mind by means of the communication of human -speech. But we shall find none the<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_13" id="Page_13">[Pg 13]</a></span> less that the situation in the two -cases is essentially altered.</p> - -<p>(<i>a</i>) Otherwise expressed, by reason of the importance pertaining to -the material aspect in the plastic arts and music, we find that, as a -result of the <i>defined</i> restrictions of this material, only a <i>limited</i> -number of conceptions can be fully reproduced in a particularized form -of reality such as stone, colour, and tone: the content therefore and -the possibilities of artistic composition are narrowed within very -definable limits. It was on account of this fact that we were able to -associate closely and exclusively every one of these specific arts -with one particular form of artistic creation pre-eminently adapted to -it. In this way the form of symbolism was appropriate to architecture, -the classical to sculpture, and the romantic to painting and music. It -is no doubt true that the particular arts in both directions from and -toward their proper domain tended to pass over into the other forms. -We took account of this fact when we found it possible to refer to a -classic and romantic style of architecture, a symbolical and Christian -type of sculpture, and even used the term classic in connection with -painting and music. Departures such as these from the prevailing type -were, however, merely experimental essays which prepared the way in -subordination to a new type rather than its culminating effort; or they -showed us how one art tended to pass beyond its true limits in seeking -to grasp a content or a relation to its material of a type that only a -further art development could adequately elaborate. Generally speaking, -we have seen that architecture has least resource in the expression of -its content; in sculpture there is already an increase of possibility, -which is further extended to its widest range<a name="FNanchor_9_9" id="FNanchor_9_9"></a><a href="#Footnote_9_9" class="fnanchor">[9]</a> by painting and music. -And the reason of this is that in proportion as the ideality and -particularization under all its aspects by the external medium is made -more explicit the variety of the content and of the forms it receives -also increases.</p> - -<p>Poetry, on the other hand, casts itself free of all subordination to -the material of sense, at least to this extent, that in the definition -of external or objective expression no reason whatever remains why it -should restrict itself to specific content or any limitation to its -power of compositi<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_14" id="Page_14">[Pg 14]</a></span>on and reproduction. It is therefore exclusively -united to no specific art type; rather we may define it as the -<i>universal</i> art, which is capable of reclothing and expressing under -every conceivable mode every content that can possibly enter into or -proceed from the imagination of man. And it can do this because its -material is nothing more or less than the imagination itself, which -is the universal root and ground of all the particular arts and their -specific types.</p> - -<p>We have already, in another connection, when concluding our discussion -of the particular artistic types, come across what was practically the -same thing. What we sought for, then, in our conclusion was that art -in one of its types should make itself independent of that mode of -representation properly called specific, remaining thereby predominant -above the entire sphere in which such a totality of particularization -is reproduced. An elaboration so comprehensive is among all the -particular arts by the very nature of the case only possible to poetry. -Its realization is effected through the development of poetical -creation in part by means of the actual reconstitution of every -particular type, and partly by the liberation of the mode of conception -and its content from the boundaries fixed for it in the essentially -exclusive types of conception, whose character we have severally -defined as symbolical, classical, and romantic.</p> - -<p>(<i>b</i>) The above considerations will further serve to justify the -position, which, in the course of our inquiry, regarded as the -development of a philosophy, we previously assigned to the art of -poetry. In other words by reason of the fact that poetry is, to a -degree quite impossible to any other mode of artistic production, -concerned with the universal simply as such in Art, we might appear -to have some reason for insisting that it marks the commencement -of an investigation in the full sense of the word philosophical, -and only from such a starting point can we enter into the sphere of -particularization, in which we find the series of the other arts as -limited and determined by their specific sensuous medium. Looking -back, however, at the result arrived at in our investigation of the -particular art types we shall find that the course of philosophical -evolution consisted, first, in an increased penetration of the ideal -content, and, fro<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_15" id="Page_15">[Pg 15]</a></span>m another point of view, in the demonstration that -originally Art sets forth in the search, then in the discovery of and -finally with an advance beyond that content compatible with its powers. -This notion of the beautiful and <i>Art</i> must enforce itself in <i>the -arts</i> themselves. The starting-point of our inquiry, therefore, was -architecture, in which we found merely an impulse toward the complete -representation of what pertains to Spirit in a material medium. This -is so much the case that it is only through sculpture that art first -attains to a genuine interfusion of ideality with the medium; and -further that only in the arts of painting and music do we reach the -stage where, by virtue of the ideal and subjective character of their -content, we find the perfected fusion effected no less under the aspect -of conception than that of practical execution in the medium accepted. -This process culminates most decisively in poetry, by virtue of the -fact that the very nature of its objective realization can only be -apprehended as an effort to draw apart from and cancel the material of -sense rather than one of reproduction which does not as yet venture to -clothe itself and move in the objective medium of sense-perception. In -order, however, to make this liberation intelligible in philosophical -terms it is of importance that we have already disposed of the question -what it is from which art undertakes to liberate itself. This question -stands in close relation to the fact that poetry is essentially capable -of embracing the entirety of intelligible content and artistic modes -of expression. We may add further that we have viewed this as the -acceptance of a totality, which can only be interpreted philosophically -as the abrogation of limitation in particularity. Our previous -consideration of what we mean by things that are one-sided would be -involved in such an exposition, the self-exclusive character of such -one-sidedness being cancelled by such a totality.</p> - -<p>It is only through the course of such an exposition that we can -effectively demonstrate that poetry is the specific art in which a -point is reached which marks the beginning of the disintegration of art -itself, a point at which the philosophical consciousness discovers its -bridge of passage to the notion of religion as such, as also to the -prose of scientific thought. The boundary lines of the realm of beauty -are, as<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_16" id="Page_16">[Pg 16]</a></span> we have already seen, on the one hand the prose of finite -condition and our ordinary conscious life, starting from which Art -makes its effort in the direction of truth, and, on the other, of the -loftier spheres of religion and science, from which it passes over into -a comprehension of the Absolute till more emancipate from all material -association.</p> - -<p>(<i>c</i>) Despite therefore the completeness with which the art of poetry -reproduces, under a mode of objectification that is most ideal, the -entire totality of Beauty, nevertheless intelligence is able to -discover even here too in this final domain of art a residue of defect. -We may for this purpose within our art-system directly contrast the -poetic art with that of architecture. In other words architecture was -still unable to subordinate the external material to the ideal content -sufficiently to clothe the same in a form adequate to mind; poetry on -the other hand carries the process of negating its sensuous medium -so far that instead of transforming that which stands in opposition -to gross spatial matter, namely tone, as architecture does with its -material into a significant symbol, it rather reduces it to a mere -sign of no significance. But by doing so it destroys the fusion of -spiritual ideality with external existence, so thoroughly that to this -extent it ceases to be compatible with the original notion of Art. In -other words it comes dangerously near to bidding goodbye to the region -of sense altogether, remaining wholly absorbed in that of ideality. -The fair mean between these extremes of architecture and poetry is -secured by sculpture, painting, and music. Every one of these arts not -merely still reproduces the spiritual content completely in a medium -borrowed from the objective world, but also leaves us with that which -lies open to our senses, no less than our intelligence. For although -painting and music, regarded as romantic arts, attach themselves to a -medium already more ideal, they do none the less supply the immediacy -of objective existence, which, however, in this increase of ideality, -shows indications of disappearance, while again from the opposite point -of view they prove themselves, through their media of colour and tone, -more profuse in fulness of particularization and manifold configuration -than is required from the material of sculptu<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_17" id="Page_17">[Pg 17]</a></span>re.</p> - -<p>No doubt the art of poetry in its turn also endeavours, as a set-off to -this defect, to place the objective world before us with a breadth and -variety which even painting, at least in a single composition, fails -to secure: none the less this comprehensiveness remains throughout -merely a realization confined to consciousness itself; and, if it so -happens that poetry, in response to a demand for more material artistic -realization, attempts to increase the impression on our senses, it is -only able to do this by either borrowing these effects from music and -painting, in order to secure artistic means otherwise foreign to it; -or it is forced, if it seeks retain its genuine character, to employ -these sister arts only under a subordinate relation of service, while -the main stress is laid on the ideas of conscious life, the imagination -which appeals to the imagination, with which it is above all concerned.</p> - -<p>This will suffice for discussion of the general relation under which -poetry is placed to the other arts. We shall now proceed to a closer -examination of the art of poetry itself, and with a view to this -propose to co-ordinate the same as follows.</p> - -<p>We have already seen that in poetry it is the ideal concept itself from -which we derive content no less than medium. By reason, however, of -the fact that we already find outside Art's domain the world of idea -to be the most obvious mode of conscious life, it is above everything -else important to distinguish the conception of <i>poetry</i> from that of -<i>prose.</i> The art of poetry, however, is not complete in this ideal -world of the imagination alone. It is necessary that it should clothe -the same in expressive <i>language.</i> It has therefore a twofold task -confronting it. On the one hand it is called upon so to arrange this -world of constructed idea that it may admit of complete translation -into speech: on the other it must take care not to leave this medium of -language in the form appropriated by ordinary conscious life. In other -words such must be treated poetically in order that the expression of -art may be distinguishable in the selection of words no less than their -position, and even their sound from that of ordinary prose.</p> - -<p>Furthermore, on account of the fact that, though poetry avails itself -of langu<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_18" id="Page_18">[Pg 18]</a></span>age as a means of expression, it secures by far the most -unqualified freedom from those conditions and restrictions imposed on -the other arts by virtue of the particularization of their material, -it is possible for a poetical composition in a pre-eminent degree to -elaborate every one of the various modes of expression, otherwise -adopted unaffected by the onesidedness incidental to their application -to a particular art. The subdivision of such <i>modes of expression</i> in -all their variety is consequently by far the most complete in the works -of poetry.</p> - -<p>The further course of our investigation may now be epitomized as -follows:</p> - -<p><i>First,</i> we have to elucidate what is in general terms <i>poetical,</i> and -the <i>poetical composition</i> in particular.</p> - -<p><i>Secondly,</i> poetry will be examined as a means of <i>expression.</i></p> - -<p><i>Thirdly</i>, we shall deal with the subdivision of the art into <i>Epic, -Lyric,</i> and <i>Dramatic</i> poetry.</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>Mittelpunkt.</i> We should rather say the unifying -significance of the creation.</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> It would be perhaps better to translate <i>geistigen -Innerlichkeit</i> with the words "the self-conscious life of the human -reason." This is developed and explained, however, in the next -paragraph.</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> Hegel expresses this as "making the inner or ideal -content perceptible to the ideal faculty," that is, <i>prima facie</i>, -consciousness, or at least that sense which is nearest related to it, -viz., hearing.</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> By <i>statt des Geistigen</i> Hegel clearly contrasts pure -music with music related as accompaniment to human speech in song.</p></div> - -<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> Lit., "one that merely plays by the way."</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> Such a statement is obviously one which would be -strongly resisted. The stress laid here on the purely ideal content -as contrasted with the beauty of rhythm and modal arrangement would -certainly suggest that Hegel was deficient in a sense for the musical -possibilities of language I presume he does use <i>gebunden</i> in the sense -of verse.</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> Hegel's expression is <i>in rein theoretischen Interesse.</i></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> The medium of music is not of course strictly on all fours -with the others.</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> That is under the limits of these four arts.</p></div> - - -<hr class="chap" /> -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_19" id="Page_19">[Pg 19]</a></span></p> -<h4><a name="I" id="I">I</a></h4> - - -<h4>POETICAL COMPOSITION AS DISTINGUISHED FROM THAT OF PROSE</h4> - - -<p>We find it difficult to recall a single writer among all who have -written on the subject of poetry who has not evaded the attempt to -describe what is poetical as such, let alone a clear definition. And in -fact if any one begins a discussion upon poetry, regarded as an art, -without previously having investigated the nature of the content and -mode of conception appropriate to Art in its most general terms, he -will find it an extremely difficult matter to determine where we must -look for that in which the essential character of poetry consists. To -an exceptional degree is this failure to tackle this problem visible in -those cases where a writer takes as his point of departure the actual -execution in particular works of art, and seeks to establish, by means -of this connoi<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_20" id="Page_20">[Pg 20]</a></span>sseurship, some general principle which he may apply as -relevant to every sort and kind of composition. In this way works of -the most heterogeneous character come to rank as genuine poetry. If we -once start from such assumptions, and then proceed to the inquiry by -virtue of what productions of this nature can be reasonably classed -together as poems we are at once confronted with the difficulty I have -above adverted to. Happily our own position here is not that of these -inquirers. In the first place we have by no manner of means arrived -at the general notion of our subject-matter through an examination -of any particular examples of its display; we have on the contrary -sought to evolve the actual constitution of the same by a reference to -the fundamental notion.<a name="FNanchor_1_10" id="FNanchor_1_10"></a><a href="#Footnote_1_10" class="fnanchor">[1]</a> Agreeably with this it is not part of our -demand that everything in ordinary parlance regarded as poetry should -in our present inquiry fall into the general notion we have accepted. -At least this is certainly not so in so far as the decision whether any -particular work is or is not poetical is only deducible from the notion -itself. Furthermore it is unnecessary now to expound more fully what we -understand by the notion of poetry. To do this we should simply have to -repeat again the course of our inquiry into the nature of Beauty and -the Ideal as developed in general terms in the first part of this work. -The intrinsic character of what is poetical stands in general agreement -with the generic notion of artistic beauty and the art-product. That -is to say, the imagination of the poet is not, as is the case with -the plastic arts and music by reason of the nature of the <i>materia</i>, -through which they are reproductive, constrained in its creative -activity in many directions, and forced to accept many others of a -onesided or very partial completeness; it is on the contrary merely -subservient to the essential requirements and general principle of an -ideal and artistic presentation.</p> - -<p>From the many different points of view applicable to our present -purpose, I will attempt to emphasize merely those of most importance, -as for example, <i>firsts</i> that which relates to the distinction between -the <i>mode of composition</i> employed respectively by poetry and prose; -<i>secondly</i>, that which contrasts a <i>poetical work</i> as completed with -one of prose; and, <i>finally</i>, I propose to add a few observations -relative t<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_21" id="Page_21">[Pg 21]</a></span>o the subjective faculty which creates, or, shall we say, -the <i>poet</i> himself.</p> - -<h5>I. THE COMPOSITION OF POETRY AND PROSE</h5> - -<p>(<i>a</i>) In so far as the <i>content</i> appropriate to poetical composition -is concerned we may, relatively speaking at any rate, exclude the -external world of natural fact. It is spiritual interests rather than -the sun, mountains, landscape, or the bodily human form, and the -like, which are its proper subject-matter. For, although it naturally -embraces the element of sensuous impression and perception, it remains -none the less, even in this respect, an activity of mind. Its main -object is an intuition of ideality, to which it stands as spiritual -activity in closer relation and affinity than is possible for external -objects, as presented in their concrete substance to the senses. The -world of Nature therefore only enters into the content of poetry in so -far as mind discovers therein a stimulus or a material upon which to -exercise its own energy; as, for example, where it is regarded as the -environment of man, merely possessing essential worth in its relation -to the ideality of conscious life, which moreover can put forward no -claim to be itself the independent object of poetry. The object, in -short, which fully corresponds to its appeal is the infinite realm of -Spirit. For the medium of language, the most plastic medium possessed -immediately by conscious life, and the one most competent to grasp its -interests and movements in their ideal vitality, precisely as is the -case with the material of the other arts, such as stone, colour, and -tone, must necessarily and above all be employed to express that which -it is most qualified to express. It is consequently the pre-eminent -task of poetry to bring before our vision the energies of the life of -Spirit, all that surges to and fro in human passion and emotion, or -passes in tranquillity across the mind, that is the all-embracing realm -of human idea, action, exploit, fatality, the affairs of this world and -the divine Providence. It has been the most universal and cosmopolitan -instructor of the human race and is so still. Instruction and learning -are together the knowledge and experience of what is. Stars, animals -and plants are<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_22" id="Page_22">[Pg 22]</a></span> ignorant of their law—it does not come into their -experience; but man only then exists conformably to the principle of -his being when he knows what he is and by what he is surrounded. He -must recognize the powers by which he is driven or influenced; and it -is just such a knowledge which poetry, in its original and vital<a name="FNanchor_2_11" id="FNanchor_2_11"></a><a href="#Footnote_2_11" class="fnanchor">[2]</a> -form, supplies.</p> - -<p>(<i>b</i>) It is, however, also a content of the same character which -belongs to man's <i>ordinary</i> conscious life. This too instructs him in -general laws, as such at least are interpreted by the motley crowd of -human life, in their distinction, coordination, and significance. The -question therefore arises, as previously observed, as to the nature of -the distinction between the mode of conception severally adopted by -prose and poetry, a similarity in the content of each being assumed as -possible.</p> - -<p>(<i>α</i>) Poetry is of greater antiquity than speech modelled in the -artistic form of elaborate prose. It is the <i>original</i> imaginative -grasp of truths a form of knowledge, which fails as yet to separate -the universal from its living existence in the particular object, -which does not as yet contrast law land phenomena, object and means, -or relate the one to the other in subordination to the process of -human reason, but comprehends the one exclusively in the other and by -virtue of the other. For this reason it does not merely, under the mode -of imagery, express a content already essentially apprehended in its -universality; on the contrary it lingers, conformably to its unmediated -notion, in the unity of concrete life itself, which has not as yet -effected such a separation or such an association of mere relationship.</p> - -<p>(<i>αα</i>) Under the above forms of envisualization, poetry posits all that -it comprehends as an exclusive and consequently independent totality, -which, despite its capacity for a rich content and an extensive range -of condition, individuals, actions, events, emotions and ideas of -every kind, nevertheless is forced to exhibit the same in all their -wide complexity as an essentially self-determined whole, as displayed -and motived by the unity, whose individual expression this or that -fact in its singularity actually is. And consequ<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_23" id="Page_23">[Pg 23]</a></span>ently the universal -or rational principle is not expressed in poetry in its abstract -universality, or in the complexus which lies open to philosophical -exposition or under the relation of its varied aspects apprehended -by science, but on the contrary as a vital union, in its phenomenal -presence, possessed with soul and self-determined throughout; and it is -further expressed in such a way that the all-embracing unity, the real -soul of its vitality, is only suffered to be operative in mysterious -guise from within outwards.</p> - -<p>(<i>ββ</i>) The character of this mode of apprehending, reclothing and -expressing fact is throughout one of construction. It is not the fact -itself and its <i>contemplative</i><a name="FNanchor_3_12" id="FNanchor_3_12"></a><a href="#Footnote_3_12" class="fnanchor">[3]</a> existence, but reconstruction and -speech which are the object of poetry. Its entrance on the scene dates -from the first efforts of man at self-expression. What is expressed -is simply made use of to satisfy this desire. The instant man, in the -midst of his practical activities and imperative duties, seeks to -summarize this effect for mind and to communicate himself to others, -then we have some kind of artistic expression, some accord with what -is poetical. To mention one from a host of examples, there is that -distich which we read in Herodotus referring to the slain heroes -of Thermopylae. As for its content it is simply the fact, the bare -announcement that four thousand Peloponesians on a certain spot fought -the battle with three hundred myriads. The main interest is, however, -the composition of an inscription which communicates to contemporary -life and posterity the historical fact, and is there exclusively to -do so. In other words, the expression of this fact is poetical; it -testifies to itself as a deed (εἱν ποιείν) which leaves the content in -its simplicity, but expresses the same with a definite purpose. The -language, in which the idea is embodied, is to that extent of such -increased value that an attempt is made to distinguish it from ordinary -speech; we have a distich in lieu of a sentence.</p> - -<p>(<i>γγ</i>) For this reason, even from the point of view of language, poetry -makes an effort to keep its domain singular and distinct from ordinary -parlance, and to accomplish this elevates its expression to a higher -virtue than that of merely articulate expression. We must, however, not -only in this particular respect, but for the purposes of our present -inquiry generally, make an ess<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_24" id="Page_24">[Pg 24]</a></span>ential distinction between a primitive -poetry, which arises <i>previous to</i> the creation of ordinary artificial -prose, and that mode of poetical composition and speech the development -of which is effected where already the conditions of our everyday life -and prosaic expression exist. The first is poetical without intention, -in idea no less than speech; the latter, on the contrary, is fully -conscious of the sphere, from which its task is to detach itself, in -order that it may establish itself on the free basis of art. It is -consequently quite aware of the distinction and contrast implied in its -self-creation to the world of prose.</p> - -<p>(<i>β</i>) <i>Secondly</i>, the kind of <i>prose life</i>, from which poetry has to -separate itself, postulates an entirely different nature of conception -and speech.</p> - -<p>(<i>αα</i>) In other words, looked at from one point of view, such a -consciousness regards the wide expanse of reality according to that -association of cause and effect, object and means, and all other -categories of the mode of reflection which deals with <i>finite</i> -conditions and the objective world generally, that is, the limited -categories of science or the understanding. It is a feature of such -thought that every particular trait should at one moment appear with -a false subsistency, at another should be placed in the position -of <i>bare</i> relation to something else, that as such it should be so -apprehended in its relativity and dependence that no unity of a -free nature whatever is possible, no unity, that is, which remains -essentially throughout, and in all its branches and separate filaments, -a complete and free totality, no unity, in short, where we find that -the individual aspects are simply the appropriate explication and -phenomenal presence of <i>one</i> content which constitutes the point of -focus, the soul that unites all together, and which also finds its -vital principle in this all-pervading centre of animation. Rather the -type of conception we above refer to as that of science goes no further -than the discovery of particular laws in phenomena, and persists for -this reason in the separation, or bare relation, of the particular -existence with its general law, the laws themselves under this view -tending to harden from each other in their isolate singularity; that -their relation is, in fact, conceived exclusively under external and -finite conditions.</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_25" id="Page_25">[Pg 25]</a></span></p> - -<p>(<i>ββ</i>) And, furthermore, man's <i>ordinary</i> consciousness has nothing -to do with what we call the ideal principle of association, the -essential core of facts, their bases, causes, ends, and so forth. It -rests satisfied with the acceptance of the mere fact that something -exists or happens as distinct from something else; or, in other words, -with its insignificant contingency. It is no doubt true that the -unity of life is not, in such a case, deliberately cancelled by any -express separation; that unity, I mean, in which the intuition of the -poet arrests the ideal <i>rationale</i> of the fact, its expression and -determinate existence. What, however, is absent here, is just that -flash of insight into this core of reason and significance, which -becomes consequently for our intelligence a thing essentially vacant, -possessing no further claim on our minds to a rational interest. The -comprehension of a rational cosmos; and its relations is exchanged then -and there for a mere flux and contiguity of indifference, which it -is true may possess a large expanse of external animation, but which -none the less suffers the profounder impulse of reason<a name="FNanchor_4_13" id="FNanchor_4_13"></a><a href="#Footnote_4_13" class="fnanchor">[4]</a> to remain -unsatisfied. True vision, no less than soul-life in its full vigour, -can only obtain satisfaction, where such are made aware in phenomena, -through feeling no less than contemplation, of the reality in its -essence and truth which is compatible with such a world. The life which -is a mere external show is defunct to our deeper sense, if all that is -ideal and intrinsically rich in significance fails to shine through as -the very soul thereof.</p> - -<p>(<i>γγ</i>) These defects, thirdly, in the conceptions of science and our -ordinary conscious life <i>speculative thought</i> effaces. It stands, -therefore, in one respect in affinity with the imagination of the poet. -The cognizance of reason<a name="FNanchor_5_14" id="FNanchor_5_14"></a><a href="#Footnote_5_14" class="fnanchor">[5]</a> is not solely, or even mainly, concerned -with contingent singularity, nor does it overlook in the phenomenal -world the essence of the same. It does not rest satisfied with the -differentiations and external relations proper to the conceptions and -deductions of the understanding; it unites them in a free totality, -which in the apprehension of our finite faculty <span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_26" id="Page_26">[Pg 26]</a></span>in part fails to -preserve its self-consistency, and in part is posited in a relation -that possesses no synthetic unity. Pure thought, however, can have -but one result, namely thoughts. It evaporates the mode of reality -in that of the pure notion. And although it grasps and comprehends -actual things in their essential separation and their actual -existence, it does also nevertheless translate this particularity -into the ideal element of the universal, in which alone thought is -at home with itself. Consequently there arises, in contrast to the -world of phenomena, a world that is new in this sense, that though -the truth of the Real is present, it is not displayed in <i>reality</i> -itself as the power itself which gives it form and the veritable soul -thereof. Thinking is simply a reconciliation of truth with reality in -<i>Thought.</i> The creations and reconstruction, however, of the poet is a -reconciliation under the mode of phenomenal reality itself, albeit such -a <i>real appearance</i> is merely ideally conceived.</p> - -<p>(<i>γ</i>) We have, therefore, two distinct spheres of consciousness, -that of poetry and prose. In former times, in which there is neither -present a deliberate outlook on the world elaborated, in respect to -its religious belief and its general knowledge, under the co-ordinated -form of scientific ideas and cognition, nor an actual world of -human condition regulated conformably to such a standard, poetry is -confronted with a lighter task. Prose is not in such a case opposed to -it as an essentially independent field of ideal and external existence, -which it has first to overcome. Its problem is for the most part -simply limited to deepening all that is significant or transparent in -the forms of ordinary consciousness. If, on the contrary, the prose -of life has already appropriated within its mode of vision the entire -content of conscious life, setting its seal on all and every part -of it, the art of poetry is forced to undertake the task of melting -all down again and re-coining the same anew. In every direction it -finds itself involved in difficulties by the unresponsive nature of -prosaic existence. It has, in short, not only to wrest itself from the -adherence of ordinary consciousness to all that is indifferent and -contingent, and to raise the scientific apprehension of the cosmos of -fact to the level of reason's profounder penetration, or to translate -speculative thought into terms of the imagination, giving a body to -the same in the sphere of intelligence itself; it has<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_27" id="Page_27">[Pg 27]</a></span> further to -convert in many ways the <i>mode of expression</i> common to the ordinary -consciousness into that appropriate to poetry; and, despite of all -deliberate intention enforced by such a contrast and such a process, to -make it appear as though all such purpose was absent, preserving the -original freedom essential to all art.</p> - -<p>(<i>c</i>) We have now summarized in its most general terms that in which -the content of poetry consists. We have further distinguished the -form of poetry from that of prose. In conclusion, it is of importance -to draw attention to the particularization which the art of poetry, -to a degree unattained by the other arts, whose development is not -nearly so rich in results, admits of. We find, no doubt, architecture -illustrated in the arts of very varied peoples, and continuous through -many centuries. But of sculpture, at least, it is true that it reaches -its culminating point in the ancient world of Greece and Rome, just as -painting and music have done more recently in Christendom. The art of -poetry celebrates its epochs of brilliancy and bloom among all nations -and in all ages almost that present any real artistic activity at all. -It embraces the collective Spirit of mankind, and it is differentiated -through every kind of variation.</p> - -<p>(<i>α</i>) Furthermore, inasmuch as poetry does not accept the universal in -scientific abstraction from its object, but seeks to represent what -is rational under the mode of individuality,<a name="FNanchor_6_15" id="FNanchor_6_15"></a><a href="#Footnote_6_15" class="fnanchor">[6]</a> the specific traits -of national character are essential to its growth; the content and -the particular mode of its presentation are in fact conditioned by -the nature of these and the general outlook in each case. We find it -consequently adapting itself to every variety of form and peculiarity. -It matters not what the poetry may be, whether Oriental, Italian, -Spanish, English, Roman, Hellenic, or German, each and all differ -totally in their spirit, emotional impulse, general outlook and -expression.</p> - -<p>A similar distinctive variety asserts itself in particular epochs as -they are favourable to the art of poetry or the reverse. The results -secured, for example, by our German poetry were impossible in the -Middle Ages, or the times of the thirty years' war. The particular -motives, which in ou<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_28" id="Page_28">[Pg 28]</a></span>r own day excite the greatest interest, are -inseparable from the entire evolution of contemporary life. And in the -same way every age has its own wider or more restricted, more exalted -and liberal, or more depressed phase of emotional life, in short its -specific outlook on the world, which it is the express aim of poetry -to bring home to the artistic consciousness in the most intelligible -and complete manner, inasmuch as language is the one medium capable of -expressing the human spirit wherever and in whatever form it may be -manifested.</p> - -<p>(<i>β</i>) Among these national characteristics, or views and opinions -peculiar to particular epochs, some have closer affinity with the -poetic impulse than others. The Oriental consciousness is, for example, -in general more poetic than the Western mind, if we exclude Greece. -In the East the principle predominant is always that of coherence, -solidity, unity, substance. An outlook of this nature is intrinsically -most penetrative, even though it may fail to reach the freedom of the -Ideal. Our Western point of view, especially that of modern life, is -based on the endless breaking up and division of its boundless material -into fragments, in virtue of which process, the extreme emphasis laid -here on particular facts, what is merely finite becomes substantive for -the imagination, and despite of this must be once more subsumed under -the converse action of relativity. For the Oriental nothing persists as -really substantive, but everything appears as contingent, discovering -its supreme focus, stability and final justification in the One, the -Absolute, to which it is referred.</p> - -<p>(<i>γ</i>) By means of this diversity of national traits and the -evolutionary process of the centuries we find that what is shared -by all mankind alike, no less than all that claims to be artistic, -is drawn as a common element within the reach of other nations and -epochs, intelligible and enjoyable to the same. It is in this twofold -connection that of late years to an exceptional degree Hellenic poetry -has roused the admiration and imitation of most diverse nationalities. -And this is so because in the content of it no less than in the -artistic form it receives the simply human is disclosed with most -beauty. The literature of India itself, however, despite all the -difficulties attendant on an outlook and artistic expression so alien -to our own, is not wholly outside our sympathy; and the boast is no -empty one that in our modern era pre-eminently a keen sense for all -that art and the human spirit embraces in every direction has begun to -unfold itself.</p> - -<p>Were we in our present investigation of this impulse toward -individualization, pursued so persistently by poetry, under the -aspects we have already described, to restrict the same to a <i>general</i> -treatment of the art of poetry, such a generalization, however -established, could not fail to be abstract and devoid of content. It is -therefore of first importance, if our object be to consider poetry of -a really genuine type, that we include in our survey the forms of the -<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_29" id="Page_29">[Pg 29]</a></span>creative spirit as presented in their national form, the unique product -of one age; and further we must not overlook the individuality which -creates, the soul of the poet. Such, then, are the main points of view -to which I would draw attention by way of a general introduction to -poetical creation and conception.</p> - -<h5>2. THE ART-PRODUCT OF POETRY AND PROSE</h5> - -<p>Poetry is not, however, exhausted by the imaginative idea alone: it -must necessarily proceed to make itself articulate and complete in the -<i>poetical work of art.</i></p> - -<p>Such an object of study opens a large field of investigation. We may -conveniently arrange and classify the course of our discussion as -follows:</p> - -<p><i>First</i>, we shall endeavour to point out what is of most importance -relatively to the <i>poetical composition generally.</i></p> - -<p><i>Secondly</i>, we shall distinguish it from the principal types of <i>prose -composition</i>, in so far as the same are compatible with artistic -treatment.</p> - -<p>We shall then, <i>finally</i> be in a position to deduce with some -completeness the notion of the <i>free art-product.</i></p> - -<p>(<i>a</i>) In respect to the poetical work of art under its generic aspect -all that is necessary is once more to enforce our previous contention -that it must, no less than any other production of an unfettered -imagination, receive the form and independence of an organic whole. -This demand can only receive satisfaction as follows:</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_30" id="Page_30">[Pg 30]</a></span></p> - -<p>(<i>α</i>) In the <i>first</i> place that which constitutes a homogeneous -content, whether it be a definite object of action and event, or a -specific emotion and passion, must before everything else possess -intrinsic unity.</p> - -<p>(<i>αα</i>) All else must be posited under relation to this bond of unity, -and thereby combine to form a freehand concrete coherence of all parts. -This is only possible under the condition, that the content selected is -not conceived as abstract <i>universal</i>, but as the action and emotion of -men, as the object and passion which are actually present in the mind, -soul, and volition of definite individuals, arising as such from the -distinctive basis of an individual nature in each case.</p> - -<p>(<i>ββ</i>) The universal, which is to receive representation, and the -individuals, in whose character events and actions the manifestation -of poetry is asserted must not consequently fall into fragments, or be -so related that the individuals are merely of service as an abstract -universal; both aspects must combine in vital coalescence. In the -Iliad, for example, the contest of Greeks and Trojans, and the victory -of the former is inseparably bound up with the wrath of Achilles, -which for this reason becomes the common focus welding all together. -No doubt we also find poetical works in which the fundamental content -is partly more abstract in its generalization, and also partly is -executed in a way that expresses a universal of more significance. -Dante's great epic poem is an illustration, which not only embraces the -world divine throughout, but displays individuals of the most varied -character in their relation to the punishments of hell, purgatory and -the blessedness of Paradise. But even here we find no entirely abstract -separation, of the two points of view, no mere relation of service -between the particular objects. For in the Christian world the focus -of conscious life is not conceived as nothing more than an accident of -Godhead, but as essential and infinite cause or end itself, so that -here the universal purpose, that is the divine justice in condemnation -and salvation can verily appear as immanent fact, the eternal interest -and being of the individual himself. In this divine world the -individual is throughout of pre-eminent importance. In that of the -State he can of course be sacrificed in order to save the universal, -that is the State. In his rel<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_31" id="Page_31">[Pg 31]</a></span>ation to God, however, and in the kingdom -of God he is essentially and exclusively the end.</p> - -<p>(<i>γγ</i>) We must, however, <i>thirdly</i>, conceive the universal, which -supplies the content of human emotion and action as self-subsistent, -intrinsically complete where it is, and constituting as such in -itself a definitive and exclusive world. When, for instance, in our -contemporary life mention is made of any officer, official, general, -professor, and so forth, and we try to imagine what kind of action such -a man or personality is likely to attempt or carry out under his own -particular conditions of environment, we place before ourselves simply -a content of interest and activity, which in part is not itself a -rounded and self-substantive whole, but one which stands in infinitely -manifold external connections, relations and conditions, in part also, -if we regard it as abstract totality, one which can receive the form -of a universal concept in its separation from the individuality of -the, in other respects, entire personality, as for instance that of -personal obligation. Conversely we may have no doubt a content of -sterling character, making, that is to say, an essentially independent -whole, which, despite of this, and without further development and -advance, is complete in one sentence. It is really impossible to say -whether a content of this nature belongs more properly to poetry or -prose. The grand affirmation of the old Testament, "God said Let their -be Light and there was Light," is at once in its penetration, no less -than the precision of its embrace,<a name="FNanchor_7_16" id="FNanchor_7_16"></a><a href="#Footnote_7_16" class="fnanchor">[7]</a> as much essentially sublime -poetry as it is ordinary prose. Of a similar nature is the command, "I -am the Lord thy God, thou shalt have no other gods but me"; or that, -"Honour thy father and thy mother." The golden epigrams of a Pythagoras -and the wise sayings of Solomon are of the same type. Phrases, so -rich in content as the above, have their origin in a world where the -distinction between poetry and prose is as yet absent. We can, however, -hardly affirm of such that they are a poetical work of art, even though -many such phrases may be combined together. The independence and -rounding off of a genuine poetical work must be assumed at the same -time to be of the nature of a process, and a differentiation of parts: -we<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_32" id="Page_32">[Pg 32]</a></span> assume it therefore to be a unity, the true character of which is -only made explicit by emphatic insistence upon its diversity. This -process, absolutely essential in the plastic arts, regarded at least -according to the requirements of their form, is also more generally of -the greatest moment in a poetical composition.</p> - -<p>(<i>β</i>) This introduces us, then, to a <i>second</i> feature of the work -of art, namely, the organic differentiation of its several parts, -essential to it not merely that it may be presented as an organic -unity, but that the elaboration of all it implies may be rendered -complete.</p> - -<p>(<i>αα</i>) The most obvious reason of this necessity is referable to the -fact that Art in general tends instinctively to particularization. -The effect of the scientific faculty is that what is particular and -singular fails to receive its complete vindication. And this is so -not merely because the understanding apprehends the manifold, as such -theoretic faculty, starting from its principles of generalization, -causing the particular fact thereby to evaporate in its abstract -deductions and categories; but also because it makes this manifold -subserve ends of purely practical import. Severe adherence to that -purely relative value, which strictly belongs to the nature of the -process, appears to the understanding as useless and tedious. To the -conception and composition of poetry on the contrary every part, every -phase in the result must remain of essential interest and vital. -It dallies therefore with delight in detail, depicts the same with -enthusiasm, and treats every part as an independent whole. However -great, therefore, in addition the content may be of a poetical work -in its central interest, the organic completeness is equally asserted -in subordinate detail, precisely as in the human organism every -member, every finger is rounded with exquisite delicacy in its unified -completeness, and as a rule, we find in Nature that every particular -existence is enclosed within a perfect world of its own. The advance of -poetry is therefore more slow than that compatible with the judgments -and conclusions of the understanding, where we find that, whether -regarded theoretically as science or with reference to practical -conduct and action, the main s<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_33" id="Page_33">[Pg 33]</a></span>tress is on the final result, this -rather than on the path by which it is reached. As for the degree in -which poetry approaches realization in its tenderness for such detail -we have already pointed out that it is not its vocation to describe -with excessive diffuseness what is exterior in the form of its sensuous -appearance. If it therefore undertakes extensive descriptions without -making them reflect at the same time the claims and interests of -soul-life it becomes heavy and tedious. Above all it must take care not -to enter into deliberate rivalry with the actual detail, in its exact -completeness, presented by natural fact itself. Even painting in this -respect should aim at circumspection and restriction. We have therefore -here and in the case of poetry a twofold point of view to consider. -On the one hand we must remember that the impression is on our mental -vision; and on the other the art can only place before the mind the -object, which in Nature we can survey and comprehend in a single -glance in a series of separate traits. For this reason it is important -that poetry does not carry its elaboration of detail so far, that the -vision of the whole in its entirety becomes inevitably disturbed, -confused, or lost. It is obvious therefore that difficulties of an -exceptional nature have to be overcome when the attempt is made to -place an action or event of varied nature before our vision, and where -in actual life such happen in a single moment of time, and in close -connection with such immediacy, for all it can do is to present the -same in a continuous series. As respects this difficulty, no less than -the general way in which poetry, as already described, approaches the -detail of Nature, we find the demand of the several generic types of -the art differs very considerably. Epic poetry, for instance, attaches -itself to the particularity of the external world with an emphasis -totally different from that of dramatic poetry, with its rapidity of -forward movement, or from that of lyrical poetry with its exclusive -insistence on the ideally significant.</p> - -<p>(<i>ββ</i>) It is through an elaboration of this kind that the several parts -of a composition secure <i>subsistency.</i> No doubt this appears to stand -in direct contradiction to the unity which we established as a primary -condition: as a matter of fact the opposition is merely apparent. -This independence should not, that is to say, assert itself in such -a way that the several parts are placed in absolute separat<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_34" id="Page_34">[Pg 34]</a></span>ion from -each other: it must on the contrary only be carried so far that the -several aspects and members of the whole are clearly seen on their own -account to be asserted in the vital form peculiar to each, and to stand -on their own free basis of independence. If, on the contrary, this -individualized life is absent from the several parts, the composition -becomes, precisely as Art generally can only invest the universal with -determinate existence under the form of actual particularity, cold and -defunct.</p> - -<p>(<i>γγ</i>) Despite of this self-subsistency, however, these several parts -must remain likewise in conjunction to the extent that the <i>one</i> -fundamental motive or purpose, made explicit and manifest in and -through them, must declare itself as the unity which pervades the -whole, and in which the parts coalesce and to which they return. This -is the condition of art, and pre-eminently so of poetry, where it falls -short of its noblest reach, upon which it most readily is wrecked, and -the work of art declines from the realm of a free imagination into -that of mere prose. To put it in another way, the connexion into which -the parts fall must not merely be one of final <i>cause and effect.</i> For -in the relation of teleology the end is the universal as essentially -presupposed and willed, which it is true succeeds in making the several -aspects tally with the process, yet employs them none the less as means -and to this extent robs them of all really free stability and thereby -of every sort of vitality. In such a case the parts merely fall under -a relation of purpose to one end, which is asserted imperiously to the -disadvantage of all else, and which accepts the same in abstraction -as subservient and subordinate to itself. The freedom and beauty of -art contradict flatly this servile relation of the abstract faculty of -science.</p> - -<p>(<i>γ</i>) On these grounds the unity, asserted in the several parts of the -composition, must be of another character. The definition of this may -be stated under two aspects of conception, as follows.</p> - -<p>(<i>αα</i>) In the <i>first</i> place, the vital presence we have already -referred to as peculiar to every part separately must be maintained. -If we direct our attention, however, to that which in fact justifies -the introduction of any detail <span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_35" id="Page_35">[Pg 35]</a></span>whatever into the composition, we -find the point of departure to be <i>one</i> fundamental idea which the -same as a whole is undertaken to manifest or interpret. Consequently -everything defined and particular must announce that as the source of -its own specific appearance. In other words, the content of a poetical -work must not be itself intrinsically abstract, but concrete, one -that by reason of its own wealth conducts us to a rich unravelment of -its varied aspects. And when this variety, even assuming that in its -realization it falls to every appearance into plain contradictions, -yet is as a matter of fact rooted in the essentially unified content -we have adverted to, in that case we may affirm that by necessity -the content itself, in a form agreeable to its notion and being, -comprises what is fundamentally an exclusive and harmonious totality -of particular characteristics, which it possesses as its own, and in -the continuous expatiation of which what it is in its real significance -is in truth rendered explicit. It is only <i>these</i> several parts, which -originally belong to the content, and which consequently should be -carried into the composition under the mode of actual and essentially -sound and vital existence. In this respect, therefore, despite all -appearance the display of particular characteristics present of -opposition to others, they are throughout combined in a union of -mysterious accord, rooted in its own nature.</p> - -<p>(<i>ββ</i>) <i>Secondly,</i> since the composition is presented under the form -of <i>natural</i> phenomena, the unity must, in order to preserve the vital -appearance of such reality, only be the <i>ideal</i> bond, which to all -appearance without intention holds together the parts and includes -them in an organic whole. It is just this animating union of organic -life which alone is able to bring into being true poetry as contrasted -with the expressed intention of plain prose. That is to say whenever -particularity exclusively appears as means to a definite end, it does -not possess and cannot conceivably possess an independent and unique -vitality of its own; what it does testify to, on the contrary, is that -it exists for the sake of something else, that is the end proposed. -Purpose of this type declares its sovereignty over the objective facts -through which it is fulfilled. An artistic composition should, however, -confer upon all that is particular within it, all in the expat<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_36" id="Page_36">[Pg 36]</a></span>iation -of which it displays continuously the central and fundamental content -selected, the appearance of an unfettered stability. This is absolutely -necessary, because what we here comprise under the term particularity -is just that content itself under the mode of the reality which -corresponds with it. We may therefore recall to our minds the analogous -task of speculative thought, which in the same way has on the one -side to develop the particular to the point of self-subsistency or -freedom from that which is at first an indefinite universality; and -likewise, too, it is called on to demonstrate how within this totality -of what is particular, in which that and that only is divulged which -essentially reposes in the universal, the unity is on this very account -once more asserted, and indeed then and only then is truly concrete -unity, established through its own differences and their mediation. -Speculative philosophy is thus, in the same way, through the method of -dialectic above adverted to, responsible for works which resemble in -this respect those of poetry, containing, that is, by virtue of the -content, an essential identity of self-seclusiveness and a revelation -of differentiated material in accord with it. We must, however, despite -this similarity between these two activities, and apart from the -obvious difference between the evolution of pure thinking and creative -art, draw attention to a further essential distinction. The deduction -of philosophy no doubt vindicates the necessity and actuality of -particularity, but none the less, in virtue of the dialectic process in -which this aspect of reality is asserted, it is expressly demonstrated -of this particularity and all of it, that it for the first time -discovers its truth and its stability in the concrete unity.<a name="FNanchor_8_17" id="FNanchor_8_17"></a><a href="#Footnote_8_17" class="fnanchor">[8]</a> Poetry, -on the contrary, does not proceed to any such express demonstration. -The concordant unity must no doubt be completely vindicated in every -one of its creations, and be operative there in all their manifold -detail as the soul and vital core of the whole; but this presence -remains for Art an ideal bond which is implied rather than expressly -posited, precisely as the soul is immediately made vital in all the -bodily members, without robbing the same of the appearance of an -independent existence. We have the same truth illustrated by colour and -tone. Yellow, blue, green and red are different colours which admit -of the most absolute contrast; but none the less, on<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_37" id="Page_37">[Pg 37]</a></span> account of the -fact that as colour they all essentially belong to one totality, they -maintain a harmony throughout; and it is not, moreover, necessary that -this union as such should be expressly declared in them. In a similar -way the dominant, the third and the fifth remain independent as tones, -and yet for all that give us the harmony of the trichord; or, rather, -we should put it that they only produce this harmony so long as each -tone is permitted to assert its own essentially free and characteristic -sound.</p> - -<p>(<i>γγ</i>) In connection with this organic unity and articulate synthesis -of a poetical composition we have further to consider essential -<i>features of distinction</i> which are due to the particular <i>artistic -form</i> appropriate to the composition under review, no less than the -particular <i>type</i> of poetry in which we discover the specific character -of its working out. Poetry, for example, of symbolic art is unable, -owing to the more abstract and indefinite traits which constitute its -essential and significant content, to attain to a fully organic fusion -in the degree of transparency possible to the works of the classical -art-form. In symbolism generally, as we have already established in the -first part of this enquiry, the conjunction of general significance -and the actual phenomenon, in association with which Art embodies -its content, is of a less coherent character: as a result of this we -find that what is particular in one direction preserves a greater -consistency; in another, as in the case of the Sublime, only so far -asserts this quality in order, through the negation thus implied, to -render more intelligible the <i>one</i> supreme power and substance, or -merely to advance the process to a condition of mysterious association -of particular, but at the same time heterogeneous no less than related -traits and aspects of natural and spiritual facts. Conversely, in -the romantic type, wherein the ideality of truth reveals itself in -essential privacy to soul-life only, we find a wider field for the -display of the detail of rational reality in its self-subsistency; in -this latter case the conjunction of all parts and their union must -necessarily be present, but the nature of their elaboration can neither -be so clear or secure as in the products of classical art.</p> - -<p>In a similar way the Epic gives us a more extensive<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_38" id="Page_38">[Pg 38]</a></span> picture of the -external world; it even lingers by the way in episodical events -and deeds, whereby the unity of the whole, owing to this increased -isolation of the parts, appears to suffer diminution. The drama, in -contrast to this, requires a more strenuous conjunction, albeit, even -in the drama, we find that romantic poetry permits the introduction of -a type of variety in the nature of episode and an elaborate analysis -of characteristic traits in its presentation of soul-life no less than -that of external fact. Lyric poetry, as it changes conformably to the -fluctuation of its types, adapts itself to a mode of presentment of -the greatest variety: at one time it is bare narration; at another -the exclusive expression of emotion or contemplation; at another it -restricts its vision, in more tranquil advance, to the central unity -which combines; at another it shifts hither and thither in unrestrained -passion through a range of ideas and emotions apparently destitute of -any unity at all.</p> - -<p>This, then, must suffice us on the general question of a poetical -composition.</p> - -<p>(<i>b</i>) In order now,—this is our <i>second</i> main head in the present -discussion,—to examine more closely the distinction which obtains -between the organic poem as above considered and the prose composition, -we propose to direct attention to those specific types of <i>prose</i> -which, despite their obvious limitations, do none the less come into -closest affinity with art. Such are, without question, the arts of -history and oratory.</p> - -<p>(<i>α</i>) As regards history, there can be no doubt that we find ample -opportunity here for <i>one</i> aspect of genuine artistic activity.</p> - -<p>(<i>αα</i>) The evolution of human life in religion and civil society, -the events and destinies of the most famous individuals and peoples, -who have given emphasis to life in either field by their activity, -all this presupposes great ends in the compilation of such a work, -or the complete failure of what it implies. The historical relation -of subjects and a content such as these admits of real distinction, -thoroughness and interest: and however much our historian must<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_39" id="Page_39">[Pg 39]</a></span> -endeavour to reproduce actual historical fact, it is none the less -incumbent upon him to bring before our imaginative vision this motley -content of events and characters, to create anew and make vivid the -same to our intelligence with his own genius.<a name="FNanchor_9_18" id="FNanchor_9_18"></a><a href="#Footnote_9_18" class="fnanchor">[9]</a> In the creation -of such a memorial he must, moreover, not rest satisfied with the -bare letter of particular fact; he must bring this material into a -co-ordinated and constructive whole; he must collectively conceive -and embrace single traits, occurrences and actions under the unifying -concept; with the result that on the one hand we have flashed before us -a clear picture of nationality, epoch of time, external condition and -the spiritual greatness or weakness of the individuals concerned in the -very life and characterization which belonged to them; and on the other -that the bond of association, in which the various parts of our picture -stand to the ideal historical significance of a people or an event, is -asserted from such without exception. It is in this sense that we, even -in our own day, speak of the art of Herodotus, Thucydides, Xenophon, -Tacitus, and a few others, and cannot cease to admire their narratives -as classical products of the art of human language.</p> - -<p>(<i>ββ</i>) It is nevertheless true that even these fine examples of -historical composition do not belong to free Art. We may add that we -should have no poetry even though we were to assume with such works the -external form of poetry, the measure or rhyme of verse and so forth. -It is not exclusively the manner in which history is written, but the -nature of its <i>content</i>, which makes it prose. Let us look at this -rather more closely.</p> - -<p>Genuine history, both in respect to aim and performance, only begins -at the point where the heroic age, which in its origination it is the -part of poetry and art to vindicate, ceases, for the reason that we -have here the moment when the distinct outlines and prose of life, in -its actual conditions, no less than the way they are conceived and -represented, come into being. Herodotus does not for instance describe -the Greek expedition to Troy, but the Persian wars, and takes pains, -in a variety of ways, with tedious research and careful reflection, to -base the narrative proposed on genuine knowledge. The Hindoos, indeed -we may say the Orientals generally, with almost the single exception -of the Chinese, do not possess this instinct of prose sufficiently -to produce a genuine history. They invariably digress either into -an<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_40" id="Page_40">[Pg 40]</a></span> interpretation and reconstruction of facts of a purely religious -character, or such as are fantastic inventions. The element of prose -then native to the historical age of any folk may be briefly described -as follows.</p> - -<p>In the <i>first</i> place, in order that we may have history we must -presuppose a common life, whether we consider the same on its religious -side, or that of a polity, with its law, institutions, and the like, -established on their own account, and possessing originally or in their -subsequent modification a validity as laws or conditions of general -application.</p> - -<p>It is out of such a common life, <i>secondly</i>, that we mark the birth -of definite activities for the preservation or change of the same, -which may be of universal import, and in fact constitute the end or -motive of their continuance, and to complete and carry into effect -which we have to presuppose individuals fitted for such a task. These -individuals are great and eminent in so far as they show themselves, -through their effective personality, in co-operation with the common -end, which underlies the ideal notion of the conditions which confront -them: they are little when they fail to rise in stature to the demand -thus made on their energy: they are depraved when, instead of facing as -combatants of the practical needs of the times,<a name="FNanchor_10_19" id="FNanchor_10_19"></a><a href="#Footnote_10_19" class="fnanchor">[10]</a> they are content -merely to give free rein to an individual force which is, with its -implied caprice, foreign to all such common ends. Where, however, any -of such conditions obtain we do not have either a genuine content or a -condition of the world such as we established in the first part of our -inquiry as essential to the art of poetry. Even in the case of personal -greatness the substantive aim of its devotion is to a large or less -extent something given, presupposed, and enforced upon it, and to that -extent the unity of individuality is excluded, wherein the universal, -that is the entire personality should be selfidentical, an end -exclusively for itself, an independent whole in short. For however much -these individuals discover their aims in their own resources, it is for -all that not the freedom or lack of it in their souls and intelligence, -in other words the vital manifestation of their personality, but the -accomplished end, and its result as operative upon the actual<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_41" id="Page_41">[Pg 41]</a></span> world -already there, and essentially independent of such individuality, which -constitutes the object of history. And, moreover, from a further point -of view we find manifested in the historical condition the play of -contingency, that breach between what is implicitly substantive and -the relativity of particular events and occurrences, no less than of -the specific subjectivity of characters displayed in their personal -passions, opinions and fortunes, which in this prosaic mode of life -present far more eccentricity and variation than do the wonders of -poetry, which through all diversity must remain constant to what is -valid in all times and places.</p> - -<p>And <i>finally</i>, in respect to the actual execution of affairs within -the cognisance of history we find here again the introduction of -a prosaic element, if we contrast it with the impulse of genuine -poetry, partly in the division asserted by personal idiosyncracy -from a consciousness of laws, principles, maxims and so forth, which -is thereby necessarily absorbed in the universal condition or fact; -and in part also the realization of the ends proposed involve much -preparation and arrangement, the means to effect which extend far, -and embrace many necessary or subservient relations, which have to be -readjusted and adapted, in order to carry out the course proposed, -with intelligence, prudence and prosaic circumspection. The work in -short cannot be undertaken offhand, but only to a large extent after -extensive introduction. The result of this is that the particular acts -of execution, which, it is here assumed, come into effect for the <i>one</i> -main purpose, are often either wholly contingent in respect to their -content, and remain without ideal union, or are asserted under the -form of a practical utility regulated by a mind dominated by the aims -proposed; in other words, they do not proceed unmediated from the core -of free and independent life itself.<a name="FNanchor_11_20" id="FNanchor_11_20"></a><a href="#Footnote_11_20" class="fnanchor">[11]</a></p> - -<p>(<i>γγ</i>) The historian then has no right to expunge t<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_42" id="Page_42">[Pg 42]</a></span>hese prosaic -characteristics of his content, or to convert them into others more -<i>poetical;</i> his narrative must embrace what lies actually before him -and in the shape he finds it without amplification,<a name="FNanchor_12_21" id="FNanchor_12_21"></a><a href="#Footnote_12_21" class="fnanchor">[12]</a> or at least -poetical transformation. However much, therefore, it may become a -part of his labours to make the ideal significance and spirit of an -epoch, a people, or the particular event depicted, the ideal focus -and bond which holds all together in one coherent whole, he is not -entitled to make either the conditions presented him, the characters or -events, wholly subordinate to such a purpose, though he may doubtless -remove from his survey what is wholly contingent and without serious -significance; he must, in short, permit them to appear in all their -objective contingency, dependence and mysterious caprice. No doubt in -biography the full animation of personality and an independent unity is -conceivably possible, because in such a work the individual, no less -than all which proceeds from him and is operative in moulding such -a figure, is throughout the focus of the composition. A historical -character is, however, exclusively one of two opposed extremes. For -although we deduce a unity of subject from the same, none the less from -another point of view various events and transactions obtrude, which -in part are without any essential ideal connection, and in part come -into contact with such individuality without any free co-operation on -the part of the same, and to this extent involve the same within the -contingency of such an external condition. So, for example, Alexander -is without question a personality, pre-eminent above all others of his -epoch, and one which, in virtue of its unique forces, falling as they -do in accord with contemporary world conditions, becomes engaged in the -Persian invasion. The continent of Asia none the less, which Alexander -vanquishes, is in the capricious variety of its nationalities a whole -united by no necessary bond.<a name="FNanchor_13_22" id="FNanchor_13_22"></a><a href="#Footnote_13_22" class="fnanchor">[13]</a> Historical events pass before him as -the bare panorama of purely objective phenomena. And, finally, if the -historian adds to his survey his private reflections as a philosopher, -attempting thereby to grasp the absolute grounds for such events, -rising to the sphere of that divine being, before which all that is -contingent vanishes and a loftier mode of necessity is <span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_43" id="Page_43">[Pg 43]</a></span>unveiled, he -is none the less debarred, in reference to the actual conformation of -events, from that exclusive right of poetry, namely, to accept this -substantive resolution as the fact of most importance. To poetry alone -is the liberty permitted to dispose without restriction of the material -submitted in such a way that it becomes, even regarded on the side of -external condition, conformable with ideal truth.</p> - -<p>(<i>β</i>) <i>Secondly</i>, <i>oratory</i> appears to have a closer affinity with the -freedom of art.</p> - -<p>(<i>αα</i>) For although the orator avails himself of the opportunity for -and content of his effort out of actual life and definite circumstances -and opinions, all that he utters remains none the less, in the <i>first</i> -place, subject to his free choice. His personal aims and views are -immanent therein, in virtue of which he can make the same a complete -and living expression of his personality. And, <i>secondly</i>, the -development of the subject of his oration and the mode of delivery -depends entirely on himself, so that the impression he makes is as -though we received in his speech a wholly independent expression -of mind. And, <i>finally</i>, it is his vocation not merely to address -himself to the trained or ordinary intelligence of his hearers, but to -work upon their entire humanity, their emotions, no less than their -judgment. The substance of what he has to say and in which he strives -to awake interest, is not merely the abstract aspect of it, nor is it -this aspect of his main purpose, in the fulfilment of which he invites -co-operation, but rather for the most part also a definite and very -real thing. For this reason the substance of the orator's address, -while embracing what is essentially substantive in its character, -ought equally to grasp his general principle under the form of its -specific manifestation, and render the same intelligible to conscious -life in the full concrete sense of the term. The orator then must not -merely satisfy our understanding with the cogency of his deductions -and conclusions, but has it in his power to address the soul itself, -to rouse human passion and carry it captive, to absorb the whole -attention, and by such means, through all the avenues of spirit, to -ravish and convince his audience.</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_44" id="Page_44">[Pg 44]</a></span></p> - -<p>(<i>ββ</i>) Despite, however, such considerations, looked at rightly we find -that it is just in the arts of oratory that this apparent freedom is -almost wholly subordinate to the rule of practical <i>utility</i>. In other -words what confers upon public speaking its unique motive force is not -implied in the particular purpose, to promote which the speech is made; -we must refer it to the general principle, the laws, rules, axioms -which the particular case suggests, and which are already essentially -present in this form of universality, partly, as actual laws of the -State, partly too as ethical, juristic or religious maxims, emotions, -dogmas, and so forth. The particular circumstance and end, which we -find here as the point of departure, and this universal are in every -respect separate from each other, and this separation is the relation -maintained throughout. No doubt the orator intends to make these two -aspects unite: what, however, in poetry, in so far as poetry is really -present, attests as already from the first accomplished, is present in -oratory merely as the personal aim of the orator, the fulfilment of -which lies outside the speech itself altogether.</p> - -<p>The only alternative we have left us is a process of <i>subsumation</i>, -whereby the phenomenon, the actual and defined thing, here the concrete -case or end, is not unravelled in immediate unity with the universal as -such, and freely from its own substance, but only receives validity by -virtue of its dependence upon general principles and in its relation to -legislative acts, morality, customs, and the like, which on their own -account possess independent stability. It is not the spontaneous life -of the fact in its concrete manifestation, but the prosaic division -between notion and reality, a mere relation of both to each other and -a mere demand for their union, which constitutes the fundamental type -under consideration.</p> - -<p>Such a process of thought is frequently adopted by the religious -teacher. For him religious doctrines, in their widest connotation, and -the principles of morality or of philosophy, political or otherwise, -which follow in their train, are in fact precisely the object whereto -he can refer cases of every conceivable variety; and they are this -for the reason that these doctrines have to be accepted, believed and -recognized by the religious consciousness as essentially and in their -own<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_45" id="Page_45">[Pg 45]</a></span> worth the substance of all particular appearance. No doubt the -preacher may at the same time appeal to our heart, may suffer the -divine laws to unveil from the depth of soul-life as their source, and -face to face with his audience may refer them to such a source. But it -is not in their absolutely individual guise that he must necessarily -present and assert them; on the contrary, he must bring effective -universality to consciousness under precisely this form of commands, -promises and maxims of faith. The oratory of courts of law is even -a better illustration. Here we find in addition the twofold point -of view, that while on the one hand all turns most obviously on the -particular case, yet conversely the subsumation of this case to general -considerations and laws is equally a necessity. As regards the <i>first</i> -aspect, we may remark that the element of prose is already implied in -the enforced investigation of the actual facts and the collocation -and able reconstruction of all singular circumstances and accidents; -a process such as this at once opens our eyes to the poverty involved -in this investigation of the truth of such a legal case, no less than -the tedious ingenuity engaged in its display, if we contrast it at -least with the free creations of poetry. We have in fact to carry our -analysis of the concrete facts to a yet further point. Such must not -merely be traced in a series that does justice to all features, but -every one of such features, no less than the whole case, have to be -referred back to the statute accepted from the first as of independent -validity. At the same time, even in this prosaic affair, we still have -considerable scope for an impression on the heart and emotions. For it -is possible so to present the rightness or wrongness of the case under -discussion to the imagination that we are no longer bound to acquiesce -in the bare knowledge of the facts and a general conviction; on the -contrary, the case in its entirety is capable of becoming, by virtue of -the style adopted in its exposition, so marked with the characteristics -of personality to everyone who hears it, that no one can fail to -discover there a personal interest as of something which concerns -himself.</p> - -<p><i>Secondly</i>, in the oratorical art, artistic delivery and elaboration -is not that which constitutes the ultimate and highest interest of the -speaker; he possesses in addition and beyond his art an ulterior aim, -that the entire form and working o<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_46" id="Page_46">[Pg 46]</a></span>ut of his discourse should rather -be used exclusively as the most effective means to promote an interest -which is outside. From this point of view the audience too have to be -influenced not on their own independent account, but the effort is -rather to excite emotion and conviction exclusively as a means toward -the attainment of the purpose, the fulfilment whereof the orator has -proposed from the first. The mode of presentation, therefore, ceases -to be an end for itself even to the listener; its claim becomes -exclusively that of a means to some particular conviction, or an -incentive to definite conclusions or activities.</p> - -<p>For these reasons from this point of view also the art loses its -freedom of form; it becomes a means to a purpose, to a further -demand,<a name="FNanchor_14_23" id="FNanchor_14_23"></a><a href="#Footnote_14_23" class="fnanchor">[14]</a> which, this is a <i>third</i> point, in relation to the -<i>consequence</i>, is not satisfied in the actual speech itself and its -artistic handling. The composition of poetry on the contrary has no -other object than the manifestation and enjoyment of beauty. End -and accomplishment reposes here immediately and essentially in the -independent work, which for that reason is complete; artistic activity -is no means to an essentially ulterior result, but an end which at -once is rounded in itself by virtue of its own execution. In oratory -art receives merely a position of service to something collateral; -the genuine end is therefore not as such consonant with art, but of a -practical character, that is to say, instruction, edification, judgment -of legal matters or political affairs, and therewith a reference to -some matter which has first to happen, or to a decision not yet carried -out, but which, however, are in neither case terminated or completed -through the resultant effect of the art in question, but can only be -so in various ways after a contact with quite other activities. A -speech in fact may often conclude with a dissonance, which the hearer -has first to resolve as judge, and only then is able to act agreeably -with such a verdict. Just as, for example, the oratory of the pulpit -starts from the point of the unconverted soul, and in the result makes -the hearer pass judgment over his own self and his soul's condition. -In such a case religious conversion is the object of the preacher; but -whether such a conversion follows as a result of all the edification -and excellence of his eloquent exhortations, an<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_47" id="Page_47">[Pg 47]</a></span>d thus the end proposed -is carried out, is a point of view which the sermon itself cannot deal -with; it must be perforce relegated to subsequent conditions.</p> - -<p>(<i>γγ</i>) In all these directions the notion of eloquence will fall rather -under the main principle of utility than maintain itself within the -free and organized whole of the poetical art-product. In short the -orator must necessarily and above all make it his mark to subordinate -the whole, no less than the parts, to that purpose in his mind, from -which his effort proceeds, a process in which the self-consistent -independence of his exposition disappears, and in lieu of which we must -assume a relation of service to a definite end that ceases to be of -artistic significance. And above all, inasmuch as the object in view -is one of practical influence upon human life, he must keep throughout -before his mind the nature of the place in which he speaks, the -degree of education, the receptive powers, and, in short, the general -atmosphere of his audience, that he may not fall short of the practical -success desired through an inability to meet the local conditions of -the moment, and the idiosyncrasies of his audience. By reason of this -very attachment to external conditions it is impossible that either -the entirety of his address or its parts can any longer originate in -a free artistic activity;<a name="FNanchor_15_24" id="FNanchor_15_24"></a><a href="#Footnote_15_24" class="fnanchor">[15]</a> it will constantly tend in its detailed -elaboration to appropriate utilitarian points of association, and be -dominated by conceptions of cause and effect, and other categories more -proper to science.</p> - -<p>(<i>c</i>) And, <i>thirdly</i>, we may, as flowing from the above distinction -between what is really poetical and the creations of the historian and -the orator, establish the following points pertinent to the poetical -composition itself.</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_48" id="Page_48">[Pg 48]</a></span></p> - -<p>(<i>α</i>) We found that in history the element of prose consisted above -all in this that however much the content thereof could be ideally -substantive and possessed of a downright penetrative power, the -actual form of the same was, however, invariably accompanied with -many conditions of relative validity, massed together with much that -was contingent, and finally often referable to caprice simply as its -ground, aspects of immediate objective fact which the historian was not -entitled to translate into the terms of a reality of profounder grasp.</p> - -<p>(<i>αα</i>) The effort of such a transfiguration is in fact a fundamental -<i>desideratum</i> of the poetical art when it, so far as its material is -concerned, steps into the arena of history. It is its business in short -in such a case to discover the mere ideal core and significance of an -event, action, or a national type, a famous historical personality, -and as decisively to brush aside aspects of contingency, everything in -fact purely incidental or indifferent, which plays round such types or -individuals, and stands to them in a purely relative connection. It -has then to establish, in the place of the circumstances and traits -it rejects, others which reveal the ideal essence of the facts in -their clarity, to the intent that in this transfigured presence such -shall so discover concrete truth in its fulness that the reason, -which has hitherto lain concealed, though implied in them, shall now -for the first time assert itself as evolved and declared in complete -realization. By this means alone poetry is able in the proposed work to -make its content coalesce in the secure unity of a centre, able as such -to round and unfold itself in a whole. And this is possible because -it not only is operative as a more effective bond between the parts, -but also because, without compromising the unity of the whole, all its -varied particularity is suffered to assert its claim to an independent -impression.</p> - -<p>(<i>ββ</i>) Poetry may in this respect make a yet further advance, when, it -accepts as its main content, in lieu of the material and significance -of the historical fact, some fundamental idea, some human collision -in general associated with it in a close or more remote affinity, and -employs the historical <i>factum</i> and<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_49" id="Page_49">[Pg 49]</a></span> personages, everything local -in short, merely in the guise or garment of individualization. The -difficulty to be encountered here is twofold: either the historically -ascertained data, when appropriated by the composition, may fall out of -line with the fundamental idea; or, conversely, it may be that the poet -in some measure retains these data, but also too in essential features -moulds them conformably to his purposes, and by doing this work fails -to harmonize the element of stability with that of original design -which were both essential to our conception of the poetical product. -To dispel such an opposition and to reassert the accordant note able -to do this is a difficult matter; it is none the less necessary, for -objective reality has itself too an unquestionable title to what is -essential in the character of its appearance.</p> - -<p>(<i>γγ</i>) We may extend the reach of poetry yet further and we shall -still find that the demand to be met is the same. In other words, -all that the art of poetry represents in external local condition, -characterization, actions, passions, situations, conflicts, events, -and human destiny, all this material is borrowed, far more so in fact -than is generally credited, from the facts of life itself. This being -so, poetry here too is on the historical arena; and, consequently, its -deviations or variations of such data must, in this field also, find -their point of departure in the rational core of the facts in question -and the demand of the art to discover for this ideal essence a form -that exhibits it with greatest adequacy and life. And this must not be -sought for in the poverty of a superficial knowledge, an inability to -penetrate what is really vital in fact, or in the moods of caprice and -with the craving after the quaint or perverse ingenuities of a spurious -originality.</p> - -<p>(<i>β</i>) And further, as already stated, oratory is allied to prose on -account of the practical end which is thereby proposed, and, to carry -out which, it is forced to admit to the full the claims of utility.</p> - -<p>(<i>αα</i>) In this respect poetry must take care to detach itself from -any end of this kind outside Art's domain, and the claim of artistic -enjoyment simply; that it may not fall into the sphere of prose. For if -any purpose of this sort is made to appear of essential importance, as -part of the entire conception and presentation, the composition at once -descends<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_50" id="Page_50">[Pg 50]</a></span> from that loftier region, in whose free atmosphere it floats -on its own account and on no other, and is drawn into that of relation -merely. As a result of this we have either a breach made between the -fundamental aim of art and the ends of ulterior intendments; or art -is used as a means simply, contradicts its substantive notion, and -becomes the menial of utility. The edifying effusions of many church -hymns are of this character. Particular ideas are simply admitted on -religious grounds, and receive a style of composition which is alien -to the beauty of poetry. And, speaking generally, poetry, simply as -poetry, has no right to edify in a <i>religious</i> sense, or at least -<i>exclusively</i> in this sense. If it does so we are carried into a -region, which no doubt possesses relationship with both poetry and art, -but is for all that distinct from it. We may say the same of teaching -generally, ethical instruction, political treatises, or writings of all -kinds written for our momentary recreation and enjoyment. All these -are objects, to whose attainment the art of poetry is, or can be more -than any other, contributory. But such contributions must not enter -into the purpose, if the spirit of the work is to assert itself freely -in its own character. In the poetical effort it is only what is really -poetic, eliminated from all that is foreign to this quality, which must -remain paramount as the end proposed and accomplished. And in fact such -ulterior aims as the above can be carried out far more appropriately by -quite other means.</p> - -<p>(<i>ββ</i>) The art of poetry, however, from the converse point of view, -should strive to assert no absolute and isolated position; it ought, -as a part of life itself, to enter freely into life. Already in the -first part of this inquiry we found how many points of contact there -were between art and ordinary existence, whose content and phenomenal -appearance are repeated in its content and form. In poetry this vital -relation to actual existence and its specific circumstances, private -or public events, appears with most obvious variety in the so-called -<i>poems d'occasion.</i> With a broader interpretation of the expression we -may define as such most poetic compositions; in the more narrow and -correct meaning of the term, however, we should restrict it to those -productions whose origin is traceable to a single event of present -time, which it is the express aim of the poet to emphasize, adorn, and -celebrate. In this weaving together of the actual thread<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_51" id="Page_51">[Pg 51]</a></span>s of life, -however, poetry tends once more to decline to a position of dependence; -it is therefore by no means unusual for writers on aesthetic to attach -a purely subordinate value to poetry of this class in general, although -as to a part of it, notably in the case of the lyric, we find here the -most famous compositions.</p> - -<p>(<i>γγ</i>) The question consequently arises by virtue of what poetry may -be enabled to still maintain its independence even in the conflict -above described. The answer is simple. It must regard and assert the -occasional facts it borrows from life not as its essential aim, while -it is itself merely accepted as a means. Rather the reverse process -is the right one, which absorbs the material of such reality within -its own substance, and informs and elaborates the same conformably to -the claims of an unfettered imagination. In other words poetry has -nothing to do with the accidental or incidental fact as such. This -material supplies the external opportunity, that is the stimulus which -prompts the poet to draw upon his own profounder penetration and more -transparent mode of presentment: by this means he creates from his own -resources, as something newborn, that which, without such mediation, -would have, in the plain and blunt particular case, wholly failed to -impress us with the free spirit he communicates.</p> - -<p>(<i>γ</i>) In conclusion then we may affirm that every genuine work of -poetry is an essentially infinite organism.<a name="FNanchor_16_25" id="FNanchor_16_25"></a><a href="#Footnote_16_25" class="fnanchor">[16]</a> In content rich, it -unfolds this content under a mode of appearance which is adapted -to it. It is permeated with a principle of unity, but not one -referable to the form of utility, which subordinates the particular -to itself in an abstract relation, but rather one that absorbs the -same in the singularity relevant to one identical and entirely vital -self-consistency, in which the whole, without any visible intention, is -sphered within one rounded and essentially self-enclosed completeness. -It is indeed replete with the <i>materia</i> of the visible world, but -is not on that account placed, either in relation to its content or -determinate existence, under a condition of dependence to any one -circle of life. Rather it freely creates out of its own plenitude, -striving to clothe the ideal notion of its materia<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_52" id="Page_52">[Pg 52]</a></span>l in its genuine -manifestation as truth, and to bring the world of external fact into -reconciled accord with its own most ideal substance.</p> - - -<h5>3. THE CREATIVE IMPULSE OF THE POET<a name="FNanchor_17_26" id="FNanchor_17_26"></a><a href="#Footnote_17_26" class="fnanchor">[17]</a></h5> - -<p>I have already discussed at considerable length, in the first part of -this work, the talent and genius, the enthusiasm and originality of the -artist. I will consequently merely touch upon one or two points in the -present reference to the art of poetry which appear of importance, if -we contrast this activity as effective here with that operative in the -plastic arts and music.</p> - -<p>(<i>a</i>) The architect, sculptor, painter and musician have to deal -with an entirely concrete and sensuous material, in and through -which each has to elaborate his creations. The limitations of this -material condition the specific form that the type of the conception -no less than the mode of artistic execution assume. The more fixed -and predetermined the general lines of his definition are upon which -the artist has to concentrate himself, the more specialized becomes -the talent required for the assertion of the same in any one and no -other mode of presentment; and we may add in the powers of technical -execution which accompany it. The talents adapted to the poetic art, -regarding the same from the point of view of an ideal envisagement -in a specific <i>materia</i>, is subordinated in a less degree to such -conditions; it is consequently more open to universal practice, and -in this respect more independent. The need here at least is merely -that of a gift for imaginative creation. Its limitation is confined -merely to this, namely, that for the reason that this art is expressed -in language, it has to guard itself on the one hand from deliberate -rivalry with external objects in their sensuous completeness, in -the form, that is, where we find the plastic artist apprehends his -subject-matter in its external configuration: and, from a further point -of view, it is unable to rest in the unspoken ideality, the emotional -tones of wh<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_53" id="Page_53">[Pg 53]</a></span>ich constitute the realm of music. In these respects the -problem proposed to the poet, if we contrast him with artists in other -arts, is at once more <i>facile</i> and more <i>difficult</i> It is more easy, -because, although the poet, in the poetical elaboration of speech, must -possess a trained talent, he is spared the relatively more manifold -task of triumph over technical difficulties necessary in the other -arts. It is more difficult because, just in proportion as poetry is -less able to complete the objective envisagement, it is compelled -to seek some compensation for this loss on the side of sense in the -genuine core of Art's own ideality, in the depth of imagination and a -really artistic mode of conception.</p> - -<p>(<i>b</i>) For this reason the poet is, in the <i>second</i> place, constrained -to penetrate into all the wealth of the spiritual content, and to lay -bare to the vision of mind what is concealed in its depths. For however -much in the other arts, too, the ideal must shine forth through its -corporeal manifestation, and does so in life itself shine forth, yet -the medium of speech remains that most open to intelligence, and the -means most adequate to its revelation. It is the one medium able to -grasp and declare everything whatever that flows through or is present -in consciousness, whether regarded in its ascent or profundity. In -consequence of this the poet finds himself confronted with difficulties -which the other arts are not called upon to overcome or satisfy to -the like degree. In other words, for the very reason that poetry is -actually operative in the world of idea or imagination itself, and is -not concerned with fashioning for its images an objective existence -independent of such ideality, it is placed in an element or sphere in -which the religious, scientific and everyday consciousness are active; -it must therefore take care to make no excursion into the domain or -mode of conception proper to any of these, or to get mixed up with -them. No doubt in the case of every art we find points of contact with -other arts. Artistic creation of every kind proceeds from <i>one</i> mind or -spirit, which comprehends in itself all spheres of self-conscious life. -But with the other arts the distinction of conception in each case is -in its mode complete, for the reason that this, in its ideal creation, -persists throughout in permanent relation to the execution of its -images in a definite sensuous material, and consequently is absolutely -distinct, no less from the forms of the religi<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_54" id="Page_54">[Pg 54]</a></span>ous consciousness, -than it is from the thinking of science and the intelligence of -ordinary life. Poetry, on the contrary, avails itself, in its manner -of objective communication, of the very means adopted in these spheres -of mental activity, that is to say, human speech; it finds itself, -consequently, otherwise placed than are the plastic arts and music, -which occupy a different field of conception and expression.</p> - -<p>(<i>c</i>) <i>Thirdly</i>, we have the final demand made upon the poet for the -most profound and manifold transfusion of the subject-matter of his -creations with the animating soul of life, because it is his art which -is capable of absorbing most profoundly the entire fulness of the -spiritual content. The plastic artist, in a similar way, must apply -himself to a transfusion of ideal expression in the <i>external form</i> of -architectonic, plastic and the forms peculiar to painting. The musician -must likewise rivet his attention on the <i>inner soul</i> concentrated -in emotion and passion and their outpouring in melodic expression. -In both cases the artist must be steeped in the most ideal intention -and substance of his content. But the sphere of the poet's creative -activity extends yet further, for the reason that he has not merely -to elaborate an ideal world of soul-life and the self-conscious mind. -He has, in addition, to discover for this ideal realm an external -mode of envisagement fitted thereto, a mode by virtue of which that -ideal totality shines through in more irresistible perfection than is -possible in the case of other arts. It is incumbent upon him to know -human existence, both as soul-life and objective life, to receive into -his inmost being the full breadth of the world and its shows, and to -have felt through it there, penetrated, enlarged, deepened and revealed -to himself all it implies. Only after that, and in order that he may -find it in his power to create, as from his own spiritual experience -outwards, a free whole,—ay, even in the case where he restricts his -effort to a comparatively narrow and particular range,—he must have -liberated himself from all embarrassment with his subject-matter, -whether of a <i>technical</i><a name="FNanchor_18_27" id="FNanchor_18_27"></a><a href="#Footnote_18_27" class="fnanchor">[18]</a> character or otherwise, able in short -to survey the ideal and external aspects thereof with the same free -gla<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_55" id="Page_55">[Pg 55]</a></span>nce. From the point of view of <i>instinctive</i> creative vigour<a name="FNanchor_19_28" id="FNanchor_19_28"></a><a href="#Footnote_19_28" class="fnanchor">[19]</a> -we may in this respect pre-eminently praise the Mahomedan poets of -the East. The starting-point in such compositions is a freedom which, -even in the moment of passion, remains aloof from such passion, and in -all the variety of its interests retains exclusively throughout the -<i>one</i> substance as its veritable core, in contrast to which everything -else appears small and transitory, and nothing of finality is left -either to passion or lust. This is a philosophical outlook, a relation -of spirit to the facts of the world, which comes more readily to age -than youth. For in old age no doubt the interests of life are still -present; but they are not there with the urgency of youthful passion, -but rather in the guise of shadows, and to this extent are more readily -conformable to ideal relations such as Art demands. In opposition to -the ordinary view that youth with its warmth and vigour is the fairest -season for poetic creation, we may rather, at least from this point of -view, maintain just the opposite, that the ripest season belongs to the -autumn of old age, provided that it is able to preserve its energies -of outlook and emotion. It is only to a blind old man, Homer, that we -ascribe those miraculous poems which have come down to us under that -name. And we may also affirm of our Goethe that only in old age, after -he had fully succeeded in liberating his genius from all restricting -limitations of sense, that he gave us his most exalted creations.<a name="FNanchor_20_29" id="FNanchor_20_29"></a><a href="#Footnote_20_29" class="fnanchor">[20]</a></p> - -<hr class="r5" /> - -<div class="footnote"> - -<p><a name="Footnote_1_10" id="Footnote_1_10"></a><a href="#FNanchor_1_10"><span class="label">[1]</span></a> That is, the essential notion (<i>Begriff</i>) of Art -generally.</p></div> - -<div class="footnote"> - -<p><a name="Footnote_2_11" id="Footnote_2_11"></a><a href="#FNanchor_2_11"><span class="label">[2]</span></a> <i>Substantiellen</i>, <i>i.e.,</i> the form that most corresponds -to its essence.</p></div> - -<div class="footnote"> - -<p><a name="Footnote_3_12" id="Footnote_3_12"></a><a href="#FNanchor_3_12"><span class="label">[3]</span></a> <i>Theoretisch.</i> Hegel doubtless has the Greek word in his -mind. It is a <i>Bildung</i> for the mind rather than with a view to action. -It assumes contemplation rather than volition.</p></div> - -<div class="footnote"> - -<p><a name="Footnote_4_13" id="Footnote_4_13"></a><a href="#FNanchor_4_13"><span class="label">[4]</span></a> It is not quite clear whether Hegel means by <i>Bedürfniss</i> -the need of spiritual life, or the profounder demand of reality. It -might stand for either.</p></div> - -<div class="footnote"> - -<p><a name="Footnote_5_14" id="Footnote_5_14"></a><a href="#FNanchor_5_14"><span class="label">[5]</span></a> That is, the <i>Vernünft.</i></p></div> - -<div class="footnote"> - -<p><a name="Footnote_6_15" id="Footnote_6_15"></a><a href="#FNanchor_6_15"><span class="label">[6]</span></a> <i>Das individualisirte Vernünftige</i>, <i>i.e.</i>, reason as -realized in concrete personality.</p></div> - -<div class="footnote"> - -<p><a name="Footnote_7_16" id="Footnote_7_16"></a><a href="#FNanchor_7_16"><span class="label">[7]</span></a> <i>In seiner Gediegenheit und schlagenden Fassung. -Gediegenheit</i> here thorough grasp. <i>Schlagenden</i> may possibly mean -arresting character of the conception rather than definite, precise.</p></div> - -<div class="footnote"> - -<p><a name="Footnote_8_17" id="Footnote_8_17"></a><a href="#FNanchor_8_17"><span class="label">[8]</span></a> That is, the notion.</p></div> - -<div class="footnote"> - -<p><a name="Footnote_9_18" id="Footnote_9_18"></a><a href="#FNanchor_9_18"><span class="label">[9]</span></a> By <i>aus dem Geiste</i> it is quite possible that there is no -reference to individual genius. In that case the translation would be -"in terms of human intelligence," <i>i.e.</i>, from the resources of human -reason.</p></div> - -<div class="footnote"> - -<p><a name="Footnote_10_19" id="Footnote_10_19"></a><a href="#FNanchor_10_19"><span class="label">[10]</span></a> This seems to be the meaning of <i>die Sache der Zeit.</i></p></div> - -<div class="footnote"> - -<p><a name="Footnote_11_20" id="Footnote_11_20"></a><a href="#FNanchor_11_20"><span class="label">[11]</span></a> Lit., "They do not come forth from self-substantive and -immediately free vitality (Lebendigkeit)." <i>Lebendigkeit</i> is here the -ideal and creative force or bond of soul-life as above described.</p></div> - -<div class="footnote"> - -<p><a name="Footnote_12_21" id="Footnote_12_21"></a><a href="#FNanchor_12_21"><span class="label">[12]</span></a> The German word would imply here an interpretation of -symbolic or at least ideal significance.</p></div> - -<div class="footnote"> - -<p><a name="Footnote_13_22" id="Footnote_13_22"></a><a href="#FNanchor_13_22"><span class="label">[13]</span></a> This I presume is the general meaning of the sentence: -<i>Asien aber, das er besiegt, ist in der vielfachen Willkühr seiner -Einzelnen Völkerschaften nur ein zufälliges Ganzes.</i></p></div> - -<div class="footnote"> - -<p><a name="Footnote_14_23" id="Footnote_14_23"></a><a href="#FNanchor_14_23"><span class="label">[14]</span></a> <i>Ein Sollen.</i></p></div> - -<div class="footnote"> - -<p><a name="Footnote_15_24" id="Footnote_15_24"></a><a href="#FNanchor_15_24"><span class="label">[15]</span></a> It is possible that too much stress is laid on this line -of difference. The fundamental difference between oratory and poetry -is that of form. At least it can hardly be denied that the power of -the orator to meet the demands of local conditions is a vital feature -of his art, that in this respect a Demosthenes is greater than Burke. -It is surely a mistake to assume that such limitations in themselves -or necessarily are an obstacle to creative genius. It is rather the -sign of supreme oratorical power that it can mould them and command -them in conjunction with its more majestic spirit. In this lies an -essential part of the art itself, just as a sculptor or a painter, such -as Tintoret in the S. Rocco Scuola, dominates the defects of local -condition.</p></div> - -<div class="footnote"> - -<p><a name="Footnote_16_25" id="Footnote_16_25"></a><a href="#FNanchor_16_25"><span class="label">[16]</span></a> Infinite, that is, not in the temporal sense, but as a -complete and self-realized whole.</p></div> - -<div class="footnote"> - -<p><a name="Footnote_17_26" id="Footnote_17_26"></a><a href="#FNanchor_17_26"><span class="label">[17]</span></a> Hegel calls it "the poetising subjectivity"; that is, the -personal activity essential to poetic composition.</p></div> - -<div class="footnote"> - -<p><a name="Footnote_18_27" id="Footnote_18_27"></a><a href="#FNanchor_18_27"><span class="label">[18]</span></a> <i>Practischen</i>.</p></div> - -<div class="footnote"> - -<p><a name="Footnote_19_28" id="Footnote_19_28"></a><a href="#FNanchor_19_28"><span class="label">[19]</span></a> This appears to be the meaning of <i>des Naturells</i>.</p></div> - -<div class="footnote"> - -<p><a name="Footnote_20_29" id="Footnote_20_29"></a><a href="#FNanchor_20_29"><span class="label">[20]</span></a> This is perhaps less true of Goethe than it is of -either Milton or Shakespeare. It is possible that Hegel thought more -highly of the second part of "Faust" as art than do the majority of -modern critics. But the truth is there, if subject to a good deal of -qualification in respect to certain aspects of poetry. As Meredith says: -</p> -<p> -"Verily now is our season of seed,<br /> -Now in our Autumn."<br /> -</p> -<p> -And Meredith was not one to do less than justice to the superb Dream of -imaginative youth.</p></div> - - -<hr class="chap" /> -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_56" id="Page_56">[Pg 56]</a></span></p> -<h4><a name="II" id="II">II</a></h4> - - -<h4>THE EXPRESSION OF POETRY</h4> - - -<p>The field of vision which first will occupy our attention, but the -boundless expanse of which we can only traverse with a few general -observations, is that which concerns the poetic generally, the content -no less than the mode of conception and organic association adapted -to the poetic work of art. This background will help to emphasize the -<i>second</i> aspect of our subject, which is <i>poetic expression</i> more -strictly, the idea in the ideal objectivity of the word appropriated by -it as symbol of the image, and the melodious vehicle of its speech.</p> - -<p>We may infer the nature of the relation between poetic expression -generally and the mode of presentment proper to the other arts from our -previous examination of the characteristics of the poetic art. Language -and the sounds of words are neither a symbol of spiritual conceptions, -nor an adequate mode of projecting ideality under the condition of -spatial objectivity in the sense applicable to the corporeal forms of -sculpture and painting, nor yet an intonation in musical sound of the -entire soul. They are an abstract <i>sign</i> simply. As the vehicle of the -poetic image or conception, however, it is necessary that this side -also, in theory no less than deliberate elaboration, appear as distinct -from the kind of expression appropriate to prose.</p> - -<p>We may for this purpose emphasize with more detail three main points of -distinction.</p> - -<p>Our <i>first</i> point is this, that although poetic expression is -throughout exclusively embodied in articulate words, and apparently -as such is simply related to human speech, yet in so far as the words -themselves are merely abstract signs representative of <i>ideas,</i> the -true source of poetic speech is <span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_57" id="Page_57">[Pg 57]</a></span>not to be discovered in the selection -of particular words, and in the manner they are associated in sentences -and elaborated phrases, nor in harmonious rhythm, rhyme and so forth, -but in the type of <i>conception</i> employed. We have, in short, to look -for our point of departure for the constructive use of expression in -the choice of the idea or image, find our first and foremost question -will be what kind of conception will give us an expression suitable to -poetry. <i>Secondly</i>, however, it remains the fact that the imaginative -idea essentially pertinent to poetry is exclusively made objective -in <i>language.</i> We have consequently to investigate the expression of -speech according to its purely verbal aspect, in the light of which -poetic words are distinguishable from those of prose, poetic phrases -from those of our ordinary life and prosaic thought, abstracting in the -first instance the mere sound of them to our sense of hearing.</p> - -<p><i>Finally</i>, we have to recognize the fact that poetry is a mode of -articulate speech, the sounding word, which in its temporal duration no -less than its actual sound, must receive a definite configuration, one -that implies the presence of time-measure, rhythm, melodious sound and -rhyme.</p> - - - -<h5><a name="I_THE_POETIC_CONCEPT_OR_IDEA" id="I_THE_POETIC_CONCEPT_OR_IDEA">I. THE POETIC CONCEPT OR IDEA</a></h5> - - -<p>What in the plastic arts the sensuous visible <i>form</i> expressed by -means of stone and colour is, or what in the realm of music animating -strains of harmony and melody are, this—we must repeatedly insist on -the fact—can only be, in respect to poetic expression—the idea or -image itself. The force of the poet's creation centres <span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_58" id="Page_58">[Pg 58]</a></span>consequently, -in the fact that the art moulds a content in an ideal medium, and -without bringing before us the actual forms of external Nature and the -progressions of musical sound; by doing so, therefore, it translates -the objective presence accepted by the other arts into an ideal form, -which Spirit or intelligence expresses for the imagination under the -mode which is and must remain that of our conscious life.</p> - -<p>A distinction of this very character was already insisted on when we -had occasion previously to establish a distinction between the earliest -type, of poetry and its later modes of reconstruction from the data of -prose.</p> - -<p>(<i>a</i>) Imaginative poetry in its <i>origin</i> is not as yet a consciously -distinct form from those extremes of ordinary conscious life, one of -which brings everything to vision under the mode of immediate and -therewith contingent singularity, without grasping the ideal essence -implied therein, and the manifestation of the same; while the other, -in one direction, differentiates concrete existence into its various -characteristics, making use of abstract generalization, and in another -avails itself of the scientific faculty as the correlating and -connecting focus of such abstractions. The idea is only poetical in so -far as it holds these extremes in unviolable mediation, and thereby is -able to maintain a position of genuine stability midway between the -vision of ordinary consciousness and that of abstract thought.</p> - -<p>In general terms we may define the poetic imagination as <i>plastic</i><a name="FNanchor_1_30" id="FNanchor_1_30"></a><a href="#Footnote_1_30" class="fnanchor">[1]</a> -in so far as it brings before our vision concrete reality rather -than the abstract generalization, and in the place of contingent -existence an appearance of such a kind that we recognize what is -substantive immediately in it by virtue of its embodiment itself and -its individuality, and as inseparable from it, and by virtue of this -are able to grasp the concrete conception-of the fact in question no -less than its determinate existence as one and the same vital whole -reposing in the ideal medium of the imagination. In this respect we -find a fundamental distinction between that whereof the plastic or -constructive idea is the source and all that is otherwise made vivid -to us through other means of<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_59" id="Page_59">[Pg 59]</a></span> expression. The same truth will appear -to us, if we analyse what we mean, by mere reading. We understand what -the letters mean, which are indicative points for articulate utterance, -by the mere act of sight, and without being further obliged to listen -to their sound. Only the illiterate reader will find it necessary to -speak aloud the separate words that he may understand their sense. -But in the case of poetry just what seems to be here the mark of -stupidity is an indication of beauty and excellence. Poetry is not -satisfied with an abstract effort of apprehension, nor does it bring -objects before us as we find them in the form of reflection and in the -unimaginative generalization of our memory. It helps us to approach -the essential notion in its positive existence, the generic as clothed -in its specific individuality. In the view of ordinary common sense I -understand by language, both in its impression on my hearing or sight, -the meaning in its immediacy, in other words, without receiving its -image before the mind. The phrases, for instance, "the sun," or "in the -morning," possess each of them no doubt a distinct sense; but neither -the Dawn or the Sun are themselves made present to our vision. When, -however, the poet says: "When now the dawning Eos soared heavenwards -with rosy fingers," here without question we have the concrete fact -brought home to us. The poetical expression adds, however, yet more, -for it associates with the object recognized a vision of the same, -or we should rather say the purely abstract relation of knowledge -vanishes, and the real definition takes its place. In the same way -take the phrase, "Alexander conquered the Persian empire." Here, no -doubt, so far as content is concerned, we have a concrete conception; -the many-sided definition of it, however, expressed here in the word -"victory," is concentrated in a featureless and pure abstraction, which -fails to image before us anything of the appearance and reality of the -exploit accomplished by Alexander. This truth applies to every kind of -similar expression. We recognize the bare fact; but it remains pale and -dun, and from the point of view of individual existence undetermined -and abstract. The poetic conception consequently embraces the fulness -of the objective phenomenon as it essentially exists, and is able to -elaborate the same united with the essential ideality of the fact in a -creative totality.</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_60" id="Page_60">[Pg 60]</a></span></p> - -<p>What follows as a primary result of this is that it is of interest to -the imagination to <i>linger</i> near the external characteristics of the -fact, to the extent at least that it seeks to express the same in its -positive reality, deems this as essentially worthy of contemplation and -insists on this very attitude.</p> - -<p>Poetry is consequently in its manner of expression <i>descriptive</i> -Description is, however, not the right word for it. We are, in fact, -accustomed to accept as descriptive, and in contrast to the abstract -definition, in which a content is otherwise brought home to our -intelligence, much that the poet passes by, so that from the point -of view of ordinary speech poetic composition can only appear as a -roundabout way and a useless superfluity. The poet must, however, -manage to bring his imagination to bear upon the explication of the -actual phenomenon he is attempting to depict with a vital interest.<a name="FNanchor_2_31" id="FNanchor_2_31"></a><a href="#Footnote_2_31" class="fnanchor">[2]</a> -In this way, for instance, Homer adds a descriptive epithet to every -hero. So Achilles is the swift-footed, the Achaeans bright-greaved, -Hector as of the glancing helm, Agamemnon the lord of peoples, and so -forth. The name is no doubt descriptive of a personality, but the name -alone brings nothing further to our vision. To have some distinct idea -of this we require further attributes. We have in fact similar epithets -attached by Homer to other objects, which are essential to our vision -of the epic, such as sea, ships, sword and others, epithets which seize -and place before us an essential quality of the particular object, -depicting it more precisely, and which enable us to apprehend the fact -in its concrete appearance.</p> - -<p><i>Secondly</i>, we must distinguish such reconstruction of actual facts -from definition <i>wholly imagined</i>. This offers a further point of view -for discussion. The real image merely places before us the fact in the -reality it possesses. The expression of the poet's imagination, on -the contrary, does not restrict itself to the object in its immediate -appearance; it proceeds to depict something over and above this, by -means of which the significance of the former picture is made clear -to our mind. Metaphors, illustrations, similes become in this way -an essential feature of poetic creation.<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_61" id="Page_61">[Pg 61]</a></span> We have thereby a kind of -veil attached to the content, which concerns us, and which, by its -difference from it, serves in part as an embellishment, and in part as -a further unfolding of it, though it necessarily fails to be complete, -for the reason that it only applies to a specific aspect of this -content. The passage in which Homer compares Ajax, on his refusing to -fly, to an obstinate ass is an illustration. To a pre-eminent degree -oriental poetry possesses this splendour and wealth in pictorial -comparisons. There are two main reasons of this. First, its symbolic -point of view makes such a search for aspects of affinity inevitable, -and in the universality of its centres of significance it offers a -large field of concrete phenomena capable of comparison; secondly, on -account of the sublimity of its predominant outlook there is a tendency -to apply the entire variety of all that is most brilliant and glorious -in its motley show to the embellishment of the One Supreme, which is -held before the mind as the sole One to be exalted. This object of the -imagination, moreover, is not to be apprehended as merely the work -of fanciful caprice or comparison, possessing as such nothing in it -essentially actual and present. On the contrary the transmutation of -all particular existence into further existence in this central idea -grasped and clothed by the imagination is rather to be understood as -equivalent to the assertion that there is nothing else essentially -present, nothing that otherwise can put forward a claim to substantive -reality. The belief in the world as we apprehend it with the vision of -ordinary common sense is converted into a belief in the imagination, -for which the only world that verily exists is that which the poetic -consciousness has created. Conversely we have the romantic imagination, -which is ready enough to express itself in metaphor, because in its -vision what is external is for the essentially secluded life of the -soul only accepted as something incidental, something that is unable -adequately to express its own reality. To reclothe this consequently -unreal externality with profound emotion, with all the fulness of -detail envisioned, or with the play of humour upon the conjunction of -such opposites is an impulse, which constrains and charms romantic -poetry to ever novel discoveries. The object of importance here is -not so much to make the fact clear and distinct to the vision; on the -contrary the metaphorical employment of these outlying phenomena<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_62" id="Page_62">[Pg 62]</a></span> is -itself the aim proposed. The emotion of the poet concentrates itself as -the centre, which the environment enriches with its wealth; it absorbs -this as part of itself, adapts it with genius and wit to its adornment, -steeps it in its own life, and finds in this movement to and fro, this -elaboration and self-reflection of its creation its own source of -delight.</p> - -<p>(<i>b</i>) <i>Secondly</i>, we have the contrast present between the poetic mode -of conception and that of <i>prose.</i> The thing of importance in the -latter case is not that which is imaged, but the significance as such -which constitutes the content. It is on account of the latter that -the idea or image becomes a mere means to bring the content before -the mind. The composition of prose is therefore neither compelled to -place the more detailed reality of its objects before our vision, nor -to summon before us, as is the case with the metaphorical mode of -expression previously described, another idea which carries us beyond -the immediate object to be expressed. No doubt it is also necessary in -prose to indicate in firm and distinct outlines the positive appearance -of objects; but this is so not on account of their figurative -character,<a name="FNanchor_3_32" id="FNanchor_3_32"></a><a href="#Footnote_3_32" class="fnanchor">[3]</a> but to meet a specific and practical purpose. Generally -speaking we may therefore affirm <i>accuracy</i> to be from one point of -view the ruling principle of prose composition, and from another a -<i>clear definition</i> and intelligibility of statement. In contrast to -this the language of metaphor and imagery is in general and relatively -less clear and more inaccurate. For in that mode of direct expression, -such as we have presented by our first form of the poetic conception, -the fact in its simplicity is carried away from our immediate -apprehension of it as a mere object into the actual world of concrete -fact, and we have to recognize it as a part of this, while in that -second and more oblique form some phenomenon of affinity merely and -one even aloof from the essential significance of our subject is made -present to us. We do not, therefore, wonder that prosaic commentators -of our poets have no easy task when they seek to separate, by means of -their scientific analyses, the image from the significance, to extract -their abstract content from the vital form, and thereby expound poetic -modes of composition to<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_63" id="Page_63">[Pg 63]</a></span> the prosaic mind.</p> - -<p>In poetry this accuracy, this rigour in unfolding the content as we -find it in its simplicity, is not alone the essential principle. On the -contrary, though prose is forced to confine its ideas on parallel lines -of almost mathematical precision with the nature of its content, poetry -introduces us to a different sphere altogether, that is, the <i>visible -appearance</i> of the content itself, or other natural phenomena related -to it. For it is just this objective reality which in poetry ought to -appear, and while unquestionably from one point of view revealing that -content, yet at the same time from another it has to liberate itself -from the purely abstract content, it being essentially an object of the -art to direct attention to its actual existence in the visible world, -and to arouse the interest of mind in the forms of life itself.</p> - -<p>(<i>c</i>) If these three essential requirements of poetry are conditioned -by an age, in which the accuracy of the prosaic mind is become the -ordinary type of conscious life, the art, so far as its figurative -characteristics are concerned, is placed in a more difficult position. -That is to say, in such an epoch the type of penetration exercised by -conscious life is generally a separation of emotion and the ordinary -outlook from scientific thought, which either converts the ideal -and external material of feeling and perception into a stimulus of -knowledge and volition simply, or into a plastic medium subservient -to observation and action. In such a sphere poetry calls for energies -of more definite purpose in order that it may free itself from the -abstraction of the prevailing mental attitude and enter into the -world of concrete life. Where, however, such a goal is realized, not -only do we find that this breach between thinking, which makes for -generalization, and perception and feeling, which grasp the particular, -vanishes, but these last-mentioned modes of conscious life are, -together with their subject-matter and content, at the same time freed -from their exclusive relation of service; and the process culminates -in a victorious reconciliation of such modes with what is essential -universality. Inasmuch, however, as both the modes of poetic and -prosaic thought and general outlook are united in one and the same -conscious life, we find in it indications of trouble and derangement, -even possibly an actual conflict between the two, one which, as the -poetry of our times testifies, only genius of the highest order is able -successfully to deal with. Added to this there are other collateral -hindrances, which I only propose to define now, and that briefly, in -their relation to the figurative aspect already discussed. In other -words, if the prosaic intelligence takes the place of that creative -imagination which previously obtained, then and in that case the -rejuvenescence of the poetic faculty, both in all that is associated -with the positive expression of facts and what is metaphorical, readily -offers the semblance of artificiality, which even where it falls short -of actual purpose, <span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_64" id="Page_64">[Pg 64]</a></span>is only with great difficulty reconciled with that -directness of immediate truth which is demanded. Much in fact which was -still fresh in former times, through repeated usage, and the habits -thus originated, has itself become gradually a custom and a part of -prosaic life. Moreover, where poetry strives after novelties in its -composition, we often find that, despite of itself, in its figurative -expressions and descriptions, even where it escapes the charge of -exaggeration and an excess of such material, it none the less leaves -an impression of artificiality, over nicety, a straining after what -is piquant and select, work incompatible with a simple and healthy -outlook and state of feeling. Such work tends to regard objects in an -artificial light and reckons on mere effect. Consequently it will not -permit their natural lighting and colour. Defects of this nature are -still more obvious in cases where, as a rule, the metaphorical type of -imaginative composition is exchanged<a name="FNanchor_4_33" id="FNanchor_4_33"></a><a href="#Footnote_4_33" class="fnanchor">[4]</a> for the more direct, and our -poet is driven to outbid the forces of prose; and, in order to assert -an originality, plunges into the subtleties of or the fishing for -effects which have still some appearance of freshness.</p> - -<h5>2. VERBAL EXPRESSION</h5> - -<p>Inasmuch as the poetic imagination is distinct in its operation from -that of all other artists in virtue of the fact that it necessarily -clothes its images in words, and communicates the same through human -<i>speech</i>, it becomes imperat<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_65" id="Page_65">[Pg 65]</a></span>ive that throughout this process it should -endeavour to co-ordinate all its ideas, in the form which with most -completeness will disclose them, through the means articulate speech -thus places at its disposal. And, in short, we may affirm that the -poetic content only assumes the form of poetry in its restricted sense -after it has been actually embodied and rounded off in the vehicle of -words.</p> - -<p>This literary aspect of the art of poetry would readily supply us with -a boundless field of discursive observation and logical argument, which -I must, however, pass over in order that I may reserve space for more -weighty problems which lie before us. I merely propose, therefore, to -touch very briefly on a few fundamental points.</p> - -<p>(<i>a</i>) Human art should in all its associations place us on a ground -quite other than that we confront in ordinary life, or indeed in -our religious consciousness, active life, or the speculations of -philosophy. This is possible on the side of literary or verbal -expression only in so far as another mode of speech is adopted than -that obtaining in those other spheres. Art has therefore not only, -from one point of view, to avoid that in its instrument of expression -which will fail to rise above the trivialities of ordinary speech -and ordinary prose, but it must, furthermore, avoid falling into the -tone and manner of religious edification and philosophical research. -Above all it must keep aloof from the precise analyses and <i>methods</i> -of the scientific faculty, the categories of pure thinking as we find -these illustrated in the logical forms of judgment and deduction. -These at once remove art from the imaginative realm to another region -altogether. But in all these respects it still remains a difficult -matter to determine the lines of boundary on which we may actually -affirm that poetry ends and prose begins. And in fact we may admit -absolute precision and confidence of statement to be impossible from -the nature of the case.</p> - -<p>(<i>b</i>) If we pass now to a discussion of the particular <i>means</i> which -poetic-speech can appropriate as instrumental to its task the following -points appear to me pregnant and suggestive.</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_66" id="Page_66">[Pg 66]</a></span></p> - -<p>(<i>α</i>) <i>First</i>, we find particular <i>words</i> and exclamations<a name="FNanchor_5_34" id="FNanchor_5_34"></a><a href="#Footnote_5_34" class="fnanchor">[5]</a> that are -obviously peculiar to poetry, whether they be used to ennoble it, or to -introduce the vulgarity and excess of comedy. We find a similar novelty -in the specific collocation of various words or turns of expression. In -such a field poetry is no doubt entitled on the one hand to borrow from -an obsolete nomenclature, obsolete at least in everyday speech, and on -the other to declare itself as pre-eminently an innovator, moulding -novel modes of speech. Such a field, provided only the vital genius of -the language is preserved, supplies material for astonishing boldness -of invention.</p> - -<p>(<i>β</i>) <i>Secondly</i>, we have the problem of verbal order. It is here that -we meet with those so-called figures of speech, in so far as, we should -add, the same have reference to verbal embodiment as such. The use of -these, however, easily degenerates into rhetoric and declamation in -the bad sense of these terms; the vitality of individual character -is destroyed where we find that such forms substitute a fixed and -artificial mode of expression for the genuine impulse of feeling or -passion, and thereby offer the very opposite to the personal, laconic -and broken utterance required, the utterance whose emotional depth -is incapable of saying much, and for this reason, in romantic poetry -especially, is of great effect as a presentment of suppressed<a name="FNanchor_6_35" id="FNanchor_6_35"></a><a href="#Footnote_6_35" class="fnanchor">[6]</a> states -of soul. But generally speaking we may admit that the relative order -of words is an instrument of the external form of poetry of quite -extraordinary resource.</p> - -<p>(<i>γ</i>) <i>Thirdly</i>, we have still to draw attention to the construction -of <i>periods,</i><a name="FNanchor_7_36" id="FNanchor_7_36"></a><a href="#Footnote_7_36" class="fnanchor">[7]</a> which essentially embrace all the other aspects -of composition and which, by means of either their simple or more -involved course, their restless dislocations and distortions, or their -quick onward motion, their acceleration and their flood contribute so -materially to the reflection of such soul experience. And, in short, it -is essential that the external presentment in speech should mirror and -assume a character similar to the ideality of such experience in all -its variety.</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_67" id="Page_67">[Pg 67]</a></span></p> - -<p>(<i>c</i>) In the <i>application</i> of the means of speech above considered it -will be useful to distinguish once more the several stages of poetic -thought to which they correspond and to which we drew attention when we -considered the nature of poetic conception or composition.</p> - -<p>(<i>α</i>) Poetic diction can, in the first instance, appear with real -vitality among a people and at an epoch when the general speech is not -as yet perfected, but in fact only by virtue of its poetry receives -its real development. At such a time the utterance of the poet, as -generally expressive of soul-life, is from the first a real novelty, -which stirs admiration on its own account by revealing in its speech -what remained previously unveiled. This new creation appears as the -marvel of a gift and personal power. The weight of custom has not as -yet fallen upon it. It enables that which is buried in the depths of -the human heart for the first time to freely unfold itself before the -amazement of men. Under such conditions it is the native force of -the expression, the creation of the fact of speech, not so much the -varied and craftful elaboration of the same, which is the main point. -Diction here remains exceedingly simple. In such early times it is -indeed impossible that we should have either much fluency of idea or -any varied versatility of expression. The subject-matter of such poetry -is depicted with an artless directness, which has not yet attained the -delicate nuances, transitions, mediatory matter and other advantages of -a later artistic culture. In such an age the poet is in fact the first -person to give an utterance to the national voice, to express ideas in -speech, and thereby to encourage the imagination itself. Speech is, -if we may so express it, not yet inseparable from ordinary life, and -poetry can still freely, with an effect of freshness, avail itself -of all that in later times, as the speech of common life, gradually -is severed from art. In this respect, for example, Homer's type of -expression is to the modern man barely distinguishable from ordinary -speech. For every idea we have the direct word<a name="FNanchor_8_37" id="FNanchor_8_37"></a><a href="#Footnote_8_37" class="fnanchor">[8]</a>; metaphorical -expressions are comparatively rare; and although the poem is composed -with a close attention to detail, the speech itself remains very simple -indeed. In a similar way Dante was<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_68" id="Page_68">[Pg 68]</a></span> able to create for his own nation -a vital form of poetic expression, and asserted in this, as in other -respects, the dauntless energy of his creative genius.</p> - -<p>(<i>β</i>) When, however—this is a <i>further</i> point—the circle of ideas -enlarges with the appearance of methodical modes of thought the ways -in which idea is associated with idea increase, and in this very -process the ability to use it increases also, and the expression of -speech is elaborated in all the fluency of which it is capable. When -this is so the position of poetry on the side of verbal expression is -wholly changed. In other words, we have now a nation possessing the -fully developed prose speech of everyday life, and poetic expression -must now, in order to retain its interest, swerve aside from ordinary -parlance, and receive a resurrection under the re-moulding energy of -genius.<a name="FNanchor_9_38" id="FNanchor_9_38"></a><a href="#Footnote_9_38" class="fnanchor">[9]</a> In our daily life the contingency of the moment is the -motive of speech. In the creation of a work of art, however, we must -have deliberate circumspection<a name="FNanchor_10_39" id="FNanchor_10_39"></a><a href="#Footnote_10_39" class="fnanchor">[10]</a> in the place of instantaneous -feeling; even the spirit of enthusiasm must be judiciously restrained. -The creation of genius should be permitted to unfold itself from the -artistic repose,<a name="FNanchor_11_40" id="FNanchor_11_40"></a><a href="#Footnote_11_40" class="fnanchor">[11]</a> and become informed under the prevailing temper -of an intelligence<a name="FNanchor_12_41" id="FNanchor_12_41"></a><a href="#Footnote_12_41" class="fnanchor">[12]</a> that surveys the whole with clarity. In former -times this spirit of concentration and tranquillity is to be inferred -from the fact and utterance of poetry itself. In a more recent age, on -the contrary, the nature of the composition and execution has itself to -enforce the distinction which obtains between the expression of poetry -and prose. In this respect poems which belong to epochs in which we -find already an elaborated prose diction differ essentially from those -of times and peoples in which the art originates.</p> - -<p>The executive talent of a poet can be carried so far in this direction -that the elaboration of formal expression be<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_69" id="Page_69">[Pg 69]</a></span>comes the main thing, and -the aim is less directed to ideal truth than to formal construction, a -polished elegance and mere effect of the composition under its literary -aspect. We have then a situation, in which, as already observed, -rhetoric and declamation are elaborated in a manner destructive to the -ideal vitality of the poetic spirit. The formative intelligence asserts -itself under the principle of <i>purposiveness</i>, and a selfconsciously -regulated art disturbs that more genuine effect, which ought to present -the appearance of ingenuous openness and simplicity. Entire nations -have, with the rarest exceptions, failed to produce any type of poetic -creation other than this rhetorical one. The Latin language, even in -Cicero, still preserves a genuine ring of naïveté and naturalness. -With the Latin poets, however, such as Virgil, Horace and the rest, -we already feel that Art is to a real extent nothing but artifice, -elaboration of effect on its own account. We recognize a prosaic -content, which is merely set off with an external embellishment. We -find a poet who, in the absence of original genius, endeavours to -discover, in the sphere of literary versatility and rhetoric effects, -some compensation for that which in genuine power and effect of -creation and composition he fails to possess. France too, in the -so-called classical period of its literature, has produced poetry -very similar, a poetical style to which didactic poems and satires -are singularly appropriate. Rhetorical figures of speech in all their -variety are here in their rightful place. The exposition remains for -all that, as a whole, prosaic; and the literary expression is at its -best rich in image and embellishment, much in the style of Herder's -or Schiller's diction. These last-mentioned writers, however, availed -themselves of this style of literary expression mainly in the interests -of prose composition; and by the weightiness of their reflections and -the happy use of such a style knew how to win both a critical assent -and a hearty approval. The Spanish poets also are not wholly free from -the ostentation inseparable from the too self-conscious diction of -art. And, as a general rule, Southern nations, such as the Spaniards -and the Italians, and previously to them the Mohammedan Arabs and -Persians, are conspicuous for a wealth and tedious prolixity of image -and simile. With the ancients, more especially in the case of Homer, -the flow of expression is characterized by smoothness and tranquillity. -With the nations above mentioned, on the contrary, we have a vision -of life gushing forth<a name="FNanchor_13_42" id="FNanchor_13_42"></a><a href="#Footnote_13_42" class="fnanchor">[13]</a> in a flood which, even where the emotions -are in other respects at rest, is ever intent upon expatiation, and -owing to this expressly volitional effort of the will is dominated by -an intelligence which at one time is visible in abrupt parentheses, at -another in subtle generalization, at another in the playful conjunction -of its sallies of wit and humour.</p> - -<p>(<i>γ</i>) Genuine poetic expression in short is as far removed from all -<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_70" id="Page_70">[Pg 70]</a></span>rhetorical declamation as above described as it is from all ostentation -and witty conceits of diction, in so far at least as such defects do -injury to the ideal truth of Nature, and the claims of the content are -forgotten in the verbal form and expression of the composition. It is, -however, possible, despite of this, that the author's free enjoyment -in his work declare itself with real beauty. In a word that aspect of -the composition we define as formal diction ought not to be treated on -its own and independent account alone, or as an aspect of first and -even exclusive importance. And, generally speaking, in this analysis of -the composition of poetry under its formative aspect, we repeat that -what is the product of careful thought must not lose the appearance of -genuine spontaneity: everything should impress us as though it had of -itself blossomed from the ideal germ or heart of the subject-matter.</p> - - -<h5>3. VERSIFICATION</h5> - - -<p>Our <i>third</i> and final aspect of poetic expression is necessitated -by the fact that the imagination of the poet does not merely invest -ideas in words, but does so in the form of the uttered speech; and by -doing so he consequently enters the domain wherein our senses are made -aware of the actual sounds and music of speech. We are thus introduced -to versification. Versified prose may give us verses, but that is -not necessarily poetry. We have a parallel case in the merely poetic -expression of a composition in other respects prosa<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_71" id="Page_71">[Pg 71]</a></span>ic with its result -of poetic prose simply. Yet for all that metre or rhyme is an essential -demand of poetry, bringing, as it were, a perfume of its own to the -senses; nay, it is even more essential than a richly imaginative and -so-called beautiful diction.</p> - -<p>And in truth the artistic elaboration of this sensuous medium<a name="FNanchor_14_43" id="FNanchor_14_43"></a><a href="#Footnote_14_43" class="fnanchor">[14]</a> -unfolds to us—it is the very demand of the art itself—another realm, -another field, which we only really enter after having left behind us -the prose of ordinary life, whether viewed as action or as literary -composition. The poet is thereby compelled to move in a literary -atmosphere outside the boundary of everyday speech, and to shape his -compositions with an exclusive regard to the rules and requirements of -Art. It is therefore only a superficial theory which would banish all -versification on the ground that it contradicts natural expression. -It is true that Lessing, in his hostility to the false pathos of the -French Alexandrine metre, attempted, more particularly in tragedy, to -introduce a form of prose speech as most appropriate. Both Schiller and -Goethe have, in the more stormy works of their youth, and under the -natural impulse of compositions carrying a greater surfeit of content, -adopted the same principle. But Lessing himself, in his Nathan, -finally returns once more to the iambic. And in the same way with his -Don Carlos Schiller deserted the old path. Goethe too was so little -satisfied with the earlier prosaic treatment of his Iphigeneia and -Tasso, that he transferred them to art's more proper domain, remoulding -them both from the point of view of expression and prosody in that -purer form, wherein these compositions continue and will continue to -excite our admiration.</p> - -<p>No doubt the artificiality of the verse measure or the recurrent echoes -of rhyme has the appearance of an unyielding<a name="FNanchor_15_44" id="FNanchor_15_44"></a><a href="#Footnote_15_44" class="fnanchor">[15]</a> bond between spiritual -ideas and the sensuous medium, more rigorous indeed than colour in -painting. External objects and the human form are coloured in Nature, -and the colourless is an arbitrary abstraction. The idea, on the -contrary, in association with the sounds of human speech<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_72" id="Page_72">[Pg 72]</a></span>, which are -employed in the wholly capricious symbols of their utterance, possess -only a distant or no ideal thread of connection at all. This being so, -the exacting demand of the prosodical rules will very readily appear -as a fetter to the imagination, in virtue of which it is no longer -possible for the poet to communicate his ideas in the precise form -in which they float upon his phantasy. The inference is natural that -although the stream of rhythm and the music of rhyme exercises upon us -as an unquestionable fascination, it is nevertheless not unfrequently -and too much so the demand of this very charm to our senses that the -finest poetic feeling and idea should be sacrificed. But the objection -for all that will not hold water. In other words it is not true that -versification is simply an obstruction to spontaneous movement. A -genuine artistic talent throughout moves in its sensuous material as in -its native element, which so far from being oppressive or a hindrance -acts as a stimulus and a support. And in fact we find that all really -great poets move with freedom and confidence in the measure, rhythm or -rhyme they have created; and it is only when they are translated that -our artistic sense is frequently pained or shocked at the attempt to -retrace their rhythm and melody. Moreover it is part of the liberality -of the art that the very circumstances of the restraint, involving -much change, concentration or expansion of the ideas expressed, should -suggest to our poet new thoughts, incidents and creations, which, apart -from such difficulties, had never crossed his mind. But in truth quite -apart from this relative advantage this sensuous and determinate form -of being—in the case of poetry the melodious chain of words—is once -for all essential to art. It is absolutely necessary that the result -should not remain in the formless and undefined stream that we have -in the immediate contingency of ordinary conversation. It must appear -in the vital design and elaboration of art. And although this form -no doubt in the music of poetry may sound too as a purely external -instrument, it has nevertheless to be treated as an end on its own -account, and as such as an essentially harmonious self-defined whole. -This a<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_73" id="Page_73">[Pg 73]</a></span>ttention, which is due to the medium of sense, contributes, -as in Art universally, and in the interest of seriousness,<a name="FNanchor_16_45" id="FNanchor_16_45"></a><a href="#Footnote_16_45" class="fnanchor">[16]</a> yet -another point of view where we find this very austerity vanishes; both -poet and listener feel it no more. They are lifted into a region of -exhilarating charm and grace.</p> - -<p>In painting and sculpture the artist is given the form in its material -and spatial limitations for the portrayal and colouring of human limbs, -rocks, trees, clouds and flowers. In architecture also the requirements -and objects of the buildings proposed dictate more or less the defined -shape given to walls, towers and roofs. In the same-way music already -possesses stable definition in the fundamental laws of harmony. In the -art of poetry, however, the sound of language to our aural sense is, -in the first instance, unbridled;<a name="FNanchor_17_46" id="FNanchor_17_46"></a><a href="#Footnote_17_46" class="fnanchor">[17]</a> the poet has consequently to -regulate such absence of rule within objective limits, and to outline -a more stable conture, a more definite framework of sound for his -conceptions, their structure and their objective beauty.</p> - -<p>Just as in musical declamation the rhythm and melody should accept and -adapt itself to the nature of the content, versification is also a -kind of music, which, at its own distance, is capable of essentially -re-echoing the mysterious, but none the less definite, course and -character of the ideas. Agreeably with this the verse-measure ought to -reflect the general tone and, as it were, the spiritual perfume of an -entire poem, and it is by no means a question of no consequence whether -the external form is one of iambics, trochaics, stanzas, alcaics or any -other metre.</p> - -<p>In the heads of discussion we propose to follow of most importance are -<i>two</i> systems, whose distinction from each other we shall endeavour -to explain. The <i>first</i> is <i>rhythmical</i> versification, which depends -upon the actual length or shortness of the verbal syllables, whether we -regard such in the association of varied figures of speech, or under -the relation of their time-movement.</p> - -<p>The <i>second</i> is that which is responsible for <i>tonal quality</i> as such, -not merely in the case of isolated letters, consonants or vowels, -but also in that of entire syllables and words, the configuration of -which is in part regulated by the la<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_74" id="Page_74">[Pg 74]</a></span>ws of the uniform repetition -of identical or similar sounds, and in part by those of symmetrical -change. It is to this system that we refer the alliteration, assonance -and rhyme.</p> - -<p>Both systems stand in intimate connection with the prosody of speech. -This is so whether such systems are rather based throughout on the -actual length or shortness of syllables, or on the accent which the -mind requires,<a name="FNanchor_18_47" id="FNanchor_18_47"></a><a href="#Footnote_18_47" class="fnanchor">[18]</a> as attached to the obvious importance of such -syllables.</p> - -<p>And, <i>finally</i>, we have also to <i>unite</i> together this general -rhythmical movement with the music of the independent formal structure -as rhyme.<a name="FNanchor_19_48" id="FNanchor_19_48"></a><a href="#Footnote_19_48" class="fnanchor">[19]</a> And in this effort, inasmuch as the repeated echo of the -rhyme strikes the ear with a marked emphasis, which asserts itself -predominantly over the purely temporal condition of duration and -advance, the rhythmical aspect will, in such a conjunction, tend to -fall back, and arrest our attention with less force.</p> - -<p>(<i>a</i>) <i>Rhythmical Versification.</i></p> - -<p>In discussing the rhythmical system which is without rhyme the -following points are of the most importance:</p> - -<p><i>First</i>, we have the firm and fast time-measure of syllables in their -plain distinction of <i>long</i> and <i>shorty</i> as well as their manifold -association with definite conditions and metres of poetry.</p> - -<p><i>Secondly</i>, we have the animation of rhythm in accent, caesura and -opposition between the verse accent and that of separate words.</p> - -<p><i>Thirdly</i>, there is the aspect of <i>euphonious sounds</i> which, within -this movement, is forthcoming from the sound of the words, without any -further concentration in rhyme.</p> - -<p>(<i>a</i>) For that rhythmical movement which the <i>time duration</i> and the -movement itself makes of first importance rather than the melodic sound -as such and singled in its isolated effect, (<i>αα</i>) we find our starting -point in the <i>natural</i> length and shortness of syllables to the obvious -distinctions of which the sound of the actual words, the expression -of their letters, in consonants and vowels, contribute the<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_75" id="Page_75">[Pg 75]</a></span> essential -basis.</p> - -<p>Pre-eminently long by nature are the diphthongs ai, oi, ae, and the -rest, for the reason that essentially—whatever our modern schoolmaster -may say to the contrary—they are themselves a twofold, concrete tone, -which combines, much as green does among the colours. The long-sounding -vowels are equally so. As a third principle, which obtains already -in Sanscrit, no less than the Greek and Latin languages, we have -associated with them peculiar conditions of position. In other words, -if two or more consonants are placed between two vowels the relation -constitutes what is unquestionably a difficult transition in speech. -The organ of articulate utterance requires a longer period to pass -over the consonants; this necessitates a pause which, despite of the -presence of the short vowel, makes the syllable sound in its rhythm -long, though it is not actually lengthened. If I speak the words -for example<i>—mentem nec secus</i>—the movement from the one vowel to -the other in <i>mentem</i> and <i>nec</i> is neither as simple or easy as in -<i>secus</i>. More modern languages do not retain this last distinction with -such stringency, but rather give effect, in the matter of long and -short accent, to other criteria. But for all that syllables which are -treated as short, despite of the position referred to, at least will -not unfrequently create a harsh impression, because they obstruct the -quicker movement our ear demands.</p> - -<p>In contradistinction to the long quantity we have in diphthongs, long -vowels and length created by position, we have the vowels which are by -nature <i>short</i>, that is, those which are short, or which are not placed -in words, where one of them and another immediately following are -separated by two or more consonants.</p> - -<p>(<i>ββ</i>) For the reason, then, that words, partly on their own account, -as of several syllables, include a number of long and short beats, and -in part, although of one syllable, are nevertheless associated with -other words, we have thereby to start with a definite, but accidental -interchange of various syllables and words without any stable -measure. To regulate this accidental relation is just the function -of poetry, precisely as it was that of music to define with accuracy -the unregulated duration of particular tones b<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_76" id="Page_76">[Pg 76]</a></span>y means of the unity -of time-measure. Poetry therefore establishes specific combinations -of long and short syllables as the law, by virtue of which, under the -aspect of <i>time-duration,</i> it has to arrange the series of syllables. -What we therefore get in the first instance are the different -successions of time. The simplest is the mutual relation of pure -equality, as, for example, we find it in the dactyl and anapaest, in -which the two short syllables may coalesce according to definite rule -in two long syllables (the spondee). Secondly, a long syllable may be -placed next one short; in that case we have a profounder distinction of -derivation, though under its simplest form. Such are the iambus and the -trochee. We find a more complicated combination, when a short syllable -is interposed between two long ones, or one short precedes two long, as -in the cretic and bacchius.</p> - -<p>(<i>γγ</i>) Such <i>isolated</i> time-relations would, however, open the door -to unregulated contingency if they were permitted to follow one -another anyhow in their motley differences. In fact the entire aim -of such regulation would vanish under such conditions, in other -words the regulated series of long and short syllables. From another -point of view we should wholly fail to secure a definite beginning, -conclusion, and central position, so that the caprice which here -once again asserted itself would entirely contradict that which we -previously established, when considering musical time-measure and -beat, as to the relation in which the percipient ego stood to the -duration of tones. In other words, the ego requires a combination on -its own account,<a name="FNanchor_20_49" id="FNanchor_20_49"></a><a href="#Footnote_20_49" class="fnanchor">[20]</a> a return out of the continuous forward movement -in time; and only seizes on the same in virtue of definite unities of -time and their, as such, emphasized commencement,<a name="FNanchor_21_50" id="FNanchor_21_50"></a><a href="#Footnote_21_50" class="fnanchor">[21]</a> regulated in -their entire series and terminations. This is the reason why, in the -<i>third</i> place, poetry also sets out the particular time-relations in a -series of <i>verse-lines,</i><a name="FNanchor_22_51" id="FNanchor_22_51"></a><a href="#Footnote_22_51" class="fnanchor">[22]</a> which in respect to the type and number -of their feet, no less than in that of their commencement, progress, -and conclusion, are subject to rule. The iambic trimeter, for instance, -consists of s<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_77" id="Page_77">[Pg 77]</a></span>ix iambic feet, of which any two constitute an iambic -dipody. The hexameter consists of six dactyls, which again, in certain -positions, may coalesce in spondees.</p> - -<p>Moreover, as it is no objection to such lines of verse-writing that -they are repeated over and over again in the same or practically -under the same mode, we find in respect to the entire series, on the -one hand, a lack of definition so far as the one final conclusion is -concerned, and on the other a monotony, which creates perceptibly a -sense of deficiency in the ideal aspect of their manifold composition. -In order to mitigate such defects poetry makes a final advance in its -creation of the strophe and its varied organization, more particularly -with a view to lyric expression. As an illustration we have the elegiac -measure of the Greeks; there is also the alcaic and sapphic strophe, -not to mention the modes of lyric art elaborated by Pindar and the -famous Greek dramatists in their choric effusions or interludes.</p> - -<p>However much, in their relation to time-measure, music and poetry -partake of similar conditions, we ought not, therefore, to fail to -draw attention to their dissimilarity. The most important feature -of this is that of the <i>beat.</i> The question whether there is any -real repetition measurable in time-beats of identical length in the -metre of the ancients has been the subject of strenuous controversy. -Generally speaking I think it may be affirmed that poetry, which uses -language in its words as a mere means of communication, is unable, in -respect to the time-length of its utterances, to subordinate the same -to an absolutely fixed measure of its movement in the abstract form -that is present in the time-beat of music. In music tone is simply -sound, without pause as such, and it essentially requires a stability -such as we find in the time-beat. Human speech does not require such -security, for one reason because it already possesses something fixed -and substantive in the idea, and for another because it is not thus -wholly committed to the objective medium of sound or resonance; rather -this very ideality of conscious life is the medium in which it consists -as art. For this reason poetry in fact discovers the more substantive -means of defining its arrest, continuance, pause or delay<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_78" id="Page_78">[Pg 78]</a></span> immediately -in the ideas and emotions which it clearly enunciates in language. -Music, too, in its recitatives, marks the beginning of a similar -process of separation from the immutable equality of the time-beat. -It follows from this that, if poetical metre were wholly subjugate to -the regularity of the time-beat, the distinction between music and -poetry, in this sphere at least, would vanish altogether, and the -element of time would receive a more predominant significance than is -compatible with the essential characteristics of poetry. Supported by -such a conclusion we may therefore insist that, though a <i>time-measure</i> -is of imperative value in poetry, there is no such necessity for the -abstract <i>time-beat;</i> meaning and signification<a name="FNanchor_23_52" id="FNanchor_23_52"></a><a href="#Footnote_23_52" class="fnanchor">[23]</a> of the actual words -must here remain the relatively speaking more controlling force. If we -examine in this respect more closely the particular verse-measures of -the ancients the hexameter will no doubt appear most nearly attached to -a forward movement compatible with the stringency of the time-beat. The -elder Voss in fact assumed this, though, as a matter of fact, such an -assumption is already excluded by the catalexis of the last foot. When -in addition to this Voss proceeded to place the time-measure of the -alcaic and sapphic strophes on a similar basis of abstract equality, we -can only regard such a theory as a wilful caprice which does violence -to the poetry. The contention throughout is apparently due to the habit -of treating our German iambic in identical lengths of syllable measure -and time-measure. As a matter of fact the beauty of the iambic trimeter -of the ancients consisted above all in this, that it was not composed -of six iambic feet of identical lengths of time; but quite the contrary -in order that, in the first position of every dipody, spondees, or, in -their resolution, also dactyls and anapaests were permissible; and, by -reason of this, the monotonous repetition of the same time-measure, and -thereby all that is consistent with the time-beat, vanishes. We may add -that the possibility of change is yet more obvious in lyric strophes, -so that if we wish to establish such a thesis at all it must be on the -<i>à priori</i> principle, that the time-beat is essentially necessary. As a -deduction from the plain facts we see nothing of the kind.</p> - -<p>(<i>β</i>). With the introduction of the <i>accent</i> and th<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_79" id="Page_79">[Pg 79]</a></span>e <i>caesura</i> we -have for the first time the animation of the time-measure; we may -parallel with this that rhythm in music, which we have discussed as the -time-beat.</p> - -<p>(<i>αα</i>) In short in poetry also every definite time relation has, in -the first instance, its particular accent; in other words, regularly -defined intervals are asserted, which attract others and only in this -way are rounded off in a whole. Owing to this fact much play is given -to the <i>manifold possibilities</i> of the value of syllables. On the one -hand generally long syllables appear emphasized in their contrast to -short, so that now, if the ictus falls upon them, their significance -is doubled as against the shorter, and in fact stand out themselves -as distinct from long syllables not thus accented. On the other hand, -however, it may also happen that shorter syllables receive the ictus or -accent, so that a similar emphasis is created to the one described in -the converse case.</p> - -<p>Above all, as already observed, the beginning and termination of the -particular feet ought not with abstract precision to be identical with -the beginning and conclusion of single words. For, in the <i>first</i> -place, the reach forward<a name="FNanchor_24_53" id="FNanchor_24_53"></a><a href="#Footnote_24_53" class="fnanchor">[24]</a> of the essentially exclusive word over -the termination of the foot of the line affects the connection of the -otherwise disparate rhythms. <i>Secondly</i>, when the verse accent falls on -the final sound of a word carried forward as above described, we get on -account of this in addition a distinct interval of time, the conclusion -of a word having already come to a pause in something else, so that it -is in fact this pause, which, in virtue of the accent united with it, -is expressly made perceptible as a segment of time in the otherwise -unbroken current. Caesuras of this sort are inevitable with every -kind of verse. For although the distinct accent already confers on -particular feet a more intimate and essential distinction, and thereby -a certain variety, this sort of animation, especially in the case of -verses, in which the same feet repeat each other without a break, as, -for example, in our iambic, remain for all that in a measure entirely -abstract and monotonous, and furthermore allow the particular <span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_80" id="Page_80">[Pg 80]</a></span>feet to -fall apart without a common bond. It is this gray monotony which the -caesura checks, introducing a connection and more genuine animation -within what was otherwise, with its undifferentiated regularity, the -halting flow of verse, a life which, by virtue of the various positions -in which the caesura may assert itself, is itself as manifold as is -possible agreeably with the condition that its regulated definition is -held free from any approach to lawless caprice.</p> - -<p>A <i>third</i> accent is furthermore attached to the verse accent and -caesura, which the words in other respects and independently possess, -apart from their metrical employment. By this means the mode and -degree in which the particular syllables are emphasized or the reverse -increases in its variety. This verbal accent may, on the one hand, -no doubt appear in conjunction with the accent of the verse and -the caesura; and, if this is the case, the strength of the accents -respectively is increased. But from another point of view it may stand -independently of them on syllables which do not receive any further -emphasis, and which we may say, in so far as they moreover require -an accentuation to bring out their particular significance as verbal -syllables, assert an effect counter to the verse rhythm, an effect -which confers on the whole a novel and unique vitality.</p> - -<p>To appreciate the beauty of rhythm in all the above aspects is for our -modern ears a very difficult matter, because in modern languages the -elements which combine to produce. this kind of metrical effect are no -longer in some measure present in the sharp and secure insistence they -possessed for the ancient world; rather we have other means substituted -for them, in order to satisfy other demands of artistic taste.</p> - -<p>(<i>ββ</i>) But over and above all this, paramount over all valid claims of -syllables and words within their metrical position, there is, secondly, -the worth of that significance we gather from the line or verse as -<i>poetical idea.</i> It is in relation to this, which the language implies, -that its other metrical effects are either emphasized or, comparatively -speaking, are restrained as void of significance; and it is by this -means alone that the finest perfume of spiritual vitality is instilled -through the poetry. But notwithstanding this fact, such poetical effect -is not to be carried so far that it directly contradicts in this -respect the rules of metrical rh<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_81" id="Page_81">[Pg 81]</a></span>ythm.</p> - -<p>(<i>γγ</i>) Moreover, a <i>definite</i> type of <i>content</i> corresponds with the -entire character of a particular verse measure, particularly from the -point of view of rhythmical movement, and above all that particular -kind implied in the movement of our feelings. Thus, for example, the -hexameter, in the tranquil wave of its forward stream, is particularly -adapted to the even flow of epic narration. Where, however, it -is more in the nature of the strophe in its association with the -pentameter and its symmetrically consistent caesura, it is, in its -none the less generally simple regularity, fitted to express elegiac -emotion. The iambic again moves forward with rapidity, and as such is -peculiarly suitable to dramatic dialogue. The anapaest indicates the -clear-slipping march of joyful exultation. Other characteristics may -readily be associated with other modes of verse-measure.</p> - -<p>(<i>γ</i>) <i>Thirdly</i>, this province of rhythmical versification is not -confined to the mere configuration and vivication of time-intervals; it -embraces the actual musical sound of syllables and words. In respect -to such sound, however, the classic languages, in which rhythm is -retained, as above described, as an essential feature, offer a real -contrast to other more recent ones more conspicuously adapted to rhyme.</p> - -<p>(<i>αα</i>) In the Greek and Latin languages, for example, the stem -syllable is modified, by virtue of its modes of inflexion, through -an abundance of variously toned syllables, which of course possess -an independent meaning, but only as a modification of such syllable; -this consequently, it is true, asserts its force as the substantive -significance of that variously expanded sound, but it does not, so -far as its sound is concerned, stand forth as such in pre-eminent and -unique ascendancy. When we hear, for example, the word <i>amaverunt</i>, -three syllables are attached to the word, and the accent is already -substantially differentiated throughout the number and extension -of these syllables in direct relation to the stem syllable, even -assuming no naturally long ones had been included, by which means the -<i>fundamental significance</i> and the emphasis of <i>accent</i> are <i>separated</i> -from each other. In such a case consequently, and in so far as the -accentuation is not identical with the <i>main</i> syllable, but falls on -another, which merely expresses an <i>incidental</i> signific<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_82" id="Page_82">[Pg 82]</a></span>ance, the -ear can from this basis at once listen to the sound of the different -syllables and follow their movement, retaining, as it does, perfect -liberty to attend to that prosody peculiar to the word or phrase, and -finding itself then invited to incorporate within its rhythm these -naturally long and short syllables.</p> - -<p>(<i>ββ</i>) The case of our modern German language is wholly different. -That which in the Greek and Latin languages is expressed, as above -described, by means of the prefix and suffix, and other modifications, -is in more modern languages for the most part resolved in verbs of -the stem syllable; the result of this is that the inflexion syllables -that have been in the former case unfolded in one and the same word, -with collateral meanings of a varied character, are now split up -and isolated in separate words. As illustrations of this we have -the constant employment of many subsidiary words denoting time, the -independent indication of the optative by means of distinct verbs, -the separation of pronouns, and other examples. By such means, on the -one hand, the word—which in the previous case adduced was expanded -in all the variety of tone which attached to its many syllables, -under which every accent of the root, that is the root idea, was -cancelled—persists as a simple totality concentrated in itself, -without appearing as a series of tones, which being, as they are, mere -modifications, do not, by virtue of their specific <i>sense,</i> assert an -influence with such a strength that the ear is unable to attend to -their independent tonal quality and its temporal movement. And, on the -other hand, on account of this concentration the main significance is -moreover of such a force that it attracts the fall of the accent upon -itself exclusively; and just because the emphasis is thus fastened -upon the fundamental sense this very coalescence does not suffer the -quantity of the other syllables, whether long or short ones, to appear; -they are simply overwhelmed. The roots of the majority of words are -unquestionably as a general rule short, compact,<a name="FNanchor_25_54" id="FNanchor_25_54"></a><a href="#Footnote_25_54" class="fnanchor">[25]</a> of one or two -syllables. If thus, as is for instance pre-eminently the case with our -mother tongue, these root-stems appropriat<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_83" id="Page_83">[Pg 83]</a></span>e almost invariably the -accent to themselves, such an accent is to an overwhelming degree one -of the sense, <i>significance',</i> not a definition, however, in which the -medium—that is, the utterance as sound—would be free, or could assert -the relation of the length, shortness, or accentuation of syllables -independently of the intelligible content of the words. Consequently a -rhythmical configuration of time-movement and emphasis liberated from -the stem syllable and its meaning can here no longer be maintained. We -have merely left us, in contradistinction to the former hearing of the -ample sound and duration of such long and short beats in their varied -juxtaposition, a general impression of sound,<a name="FNanchor_26_55" id="FNanchor_26_55"></a><a href="#Footnote_26_55" class="fnanchor">[26]</a> which is apprehended. -entirely aloof from the accented fundamental syllable with its weight -of significance. And, indeed, apart from this, as we have seen, the -ramification of the stem into syllables as modified into particular -words is also an independent process. Such words receive thereby an -independent worth, and, while preserving their own significance, they -make us at the same time hear the identical coalescence of meaning -and accent, which we have observed in the case of the stem or root -word around which they are ranged. We are therefore forced to restrict -our attention to the sense of every word; and, instead of being -occupied with the natural length and shortness of syllables and their -sensuous<a name="FNanchor_27_56" id="FNanchor_27_56"></a><a href="#Footnote_27_56" class="fnanchor">[27]</a> accentuation, are only able to hear the accent asserted by -the main and substantive meaning.</p> - -<p>(<i>γγ</i>) In such modern languages the element of rhythm has little room -for its display, or at least the soul has little freedom left to -expatiate within it, because, as observed, time and the equable stream -of syllabic sound as emitted from its movement is superseded<a name="FNanchor_28_57" id="FNanchor_28_57"></a><a href="#Footnote_28_57" class="fnanchor">[28]</a> by a -more ideal relation—that is to say, by the sense and meaning of the -words, and thereby the force of the more independent configuration of -rhythm is suppressed. We may in this connection compare the principle -of rhythmical versification with the plastic arts. We find in both that -the ideal significance is not as yet asserted in its independence, nor -does the former express<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_84" id="Page_84">[Pg 84]</a></span>ly define the length and accent of syllables, -but rather the meaning of the words is wholly blended with the sensuous -medium of the inherent time duration and sound, with a result that does -complete justice to the claim of such externality, wholly absorbed in -the ideal form and movement of the same. If, however, such a principle -is renounced, and yet despite of this, but in accordance with the -necessary demand of art, the sensuous medium is permitted to retain a -certain force of resistance as against the exclusive assertion of ideal -content,<a name="FNanchor_29_58" id="FNanchor_29_58"></a><a href="#Footnote_29_58" class="fnanchor">[29]</a> in order to this end to divert the ear's attention,—in -the case that is, where what we may call the plastic moment of that -more ancient mode of syllabic quantity, as it is on its own account, -and the tonal quality inseparable from the general rhythm rather than -independently asserted—when this, as I say, has been destroyed, then -we have no other means<a name="FNanchor_30_59" id="FNanchor_30_59"></a><a href="#Footnote_30_59" class="fnanchor">[30]</a> at hand save the express and artistically -configurated sound of articulate speech simply, and retained as -such in its isolation. And this leads us to our second main type of -versification—in other words, <i>rhyme.</i></p> - -<p>(<i>b</i>) <i>Rhyme</i></p> - -<p>From an objective standpoint it is possible to seek to explain the -need of a novel treatment of language from the deterioration into -which the classical languages fell through their contact with foreign -relations. Such a development, however, lies in the nature of the -facts themselves. The earliest example of conformity with the ideality -of its content attempted by poetry is to be traced in the length and -shortness of syllables in independence from their significance, for the -mutual relations of which, caesurae and so forth, art elaborates its -rules, rules which it is true generally coincide with the character -of the content in its broad outlines, but which none the less, in -matters of individual de<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_85" id="Page_85">[Pg 85]</a></span>tail, do not suffer either the length or -shortness of a syllable, nor its accent, to depend exclusively on the -intelligible significance making such a formal aspect subordinate, -to the point of entire detachment, to the same.<a name="FNanchor_31_60" id="FNanchor_31_60"></a><a href="#Footnote_31_60" class="fnanchor">[31]</a> The more ideal, -however, and spiritual the represented idea becomes, the more it tends -to detach itself from this objective aspect, which increasingly fails -to present such ideality in plastic guise, and finally reaches a point -of self-concentration in which the, so to speak, corporeal element -of speech is in a measure wholly wiped away, and for the rest merely -asserts that wherein the intelligible significance is reposed as -necessary to its communication; all else is only admitted, by way of -by-play, as insignificant. Now romantic art, in respect to the entire -type of its conception and presentation, effects a similar passage -over to this concentrated synthesis of ideality, when it sets out in -search for the material which corresponds to this subjective content -in audible sound.<a name="FNanchor_32_61" id="FNanchor_32_61"></a><a href="#Footnote_32_61" class="fnanchor">[32]</a> Following these lines romantic poetry also, -inasmuch as it generally lays most stress on the ideal tones<a name="FNanchor_33_62" id="FNanchor_33_62"></a><a href="#Footnote_33_62" class="fnanchor">[33]</a> of -feeling, becomes absorbed in its preoccupation<a name="FNanchor_34_63" id="FNanchor_34_63"></a><a href="#Footnote_34_63" class="fnanchor">[34]</a> with the distinct -and independent ring and tones of letters, syllables, and words; -perfecting such a process to its final satisfaction, as it learns, -either in their association with ideality, or in their connection with -the architectonically intelligible penetration<a name="FNanchor_35_64" id="FNanchor_35_64"></a><a href="#Footnote_35_64" class="fnanchor">[35]</a> of such music, -to separate such syllabic and other verbal sounds or to relate or -interlace them one with another. From this point of view we may affirm -that it is not simply by way of accident that rhyme is elaborated in -romantic poetry. It is a necessary feature of it. The requirement of -soul-life, to discover itself again, is thereby more fully asserted, -and finds a real source of satisfaction in the identity of the rhyme, -which declares an indifference<a name="FNanchor_36_65" id="FNanchor_36_65"></a><a href="#Footnote_36_65" class="fnanchor">[36]</a> to the unyielding laws of the -time-measure, and, by virtue of its recurrence of similar sounds, gives -exclusive effect to an effort which conducts the conscious self back -to itself. It is by this means that versification is made<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_86" id="Page_86">[Pg 86]</a></span> to approach -more closely the musical art as such, that is, the vivid tones of -soul-life itself, and is, from this point of view, liberated from the, -relatively speaking, gross material of human speech, in other words -from what we have referred to as the natural measure of quantity.</p> - -<p>With regard to points of special interest in this subject, I will -confine myself to the following general observations:</p> - -<p><i>First</i>, upon the origin of rhyme.</p> - -<p><i>Secondly</i>, upon a few more definite features by which we may -distinguish the sphere of rhyme from that of rhythm in verse.</p> - -<p><i>Thirdly</i>, upon the types under which we may classify rhyme generally.</p> - -<p>(<i>α</i>) We have already seen that rhyme belongs in its form to the art -of romantic poetry, which requires such a more pronounced emphasis of -its configurated syllabic sound posited thus on its own account. And it -is thus effected to the extent that the ideal activity of volition<a name="FNanchor_37_66" id="FNanchor_37_66"></a><a href="#Footnote_37_66" class="fnanchor">[37]</a> -discovers its own presence by this means in the objective medium -of tone. Where such a need is asserted we have a mode of speech in -part meeting absolutely the conditions of form I outlined above when -discussing the necessity of rhyme; and in addition it makes use of the -old forms of language at hand, the Latin for example, which, though of -other constitution and mainly applicable to rhythmical versification, -it employs agreeably to the character of the new principle, or -reconstructs the same so far into a new language that the element of -rhythm disappears, and rhyme becomes, as in the Italian and French -languages, the matter of all importance.</p> - -<p>(<i>αα</i>) In this respect we find throughout Christendom that rhyme is -introduced into Latin versification at a very early date with much -insistence, although, as observed, it rested on other principles. -These principles, however, are rather adapted from the Greek language; -and, so far from testifying to the fact that they originated from the -Latin speech itself, rather prove, under the modified character<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_87" id="Page_87">[Pg 87]</a></span> they -possess, a tendency which itself approaches the romantic type. In -other words, the poetry of Rome, on the one hand and in its earliest -days, discovered its source not in the natural length and shortness of -syllables, but rather measured the value of syllables relatively to -their accent; and in consequence of this it was only through a more -accurate knowledge and imitation of Greek poetry that the prosodical -principle of this was received and followed. And, moreover, the Romans -rendered more obdurate the flexible, joyous sensuousness of Greek -metres, more particularly by their use of more insistent pauses at the -caesura, as we find such not only in the hexameter, but also in the -alcaic and sapphic metres, hardening the effect thus to a structure of -more stringent outline and more severe regularity. And indeed, apart -from this, even in the full bloom of Latin literature, and from their -poets of finest culture, we have already plenty of rhymes. Thus from -Horace, in his <i>Ars poetica</i> (verses 99-100), we get the following:</p> - -<p style="margin-left: 10%;"> -Non satis est, pulchra esse poemata: dulcia <i>sunto,</i><br /> -Et quocunque volent, animum auditoris <i>agunto.</i><br /> -</p> - -<p>Though the poet was probably quite unconscious of the fact, it is -none the less a strange coincidence that, in the very passage in -which Horace enforces the obligation that poems should be <i>dulcia</i>, -we discover a rhyme. Similar rhymes occur in Ovid with still more -frequency. Even assuming such to be accidental, the fact remains -that they appear to have been not offensive to Roman ears, and might -consequently be permitted, although as isolated exceptions, to slip -into the composition. Yet the profounder significance of romantic -rhyme is absent from such playful exceptions. The former does not -assert the recurrent sound merely as sound, but the ideal content or -meaning implied in it. And it is precisely this which constitutes the -fundamental difference between modern rhyme and the very ancient rhyme -of the Hindoos.</p> - -<p>As for the classical languages, it was after the invasion of barbarism, -and on account of the destruction of accentuation and the assertion of -that uniquely personal note of emotion referable to Christianity, that -the rhythmical system of verse passed into that of rhyme. Thus, in his -hymn to the Holy Spirit, Ambrosius entirely regulates the versification -acc<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_88" id="Page_88">[Pg 88]</a></span>ording to the accent of the meaning expressed, and breaks into -rhyme. The first work of St. Augustine against the Donatists is in the -same way a rhymed song; and also the so-called Leonine versicles, as -expressly rhymed hexameters and pentameters, are easily distinguishable -from the accidental exceptions of rhyme previously noticed. These and -other examples like them mark the point of departure of rhyme from the -more ancient rhythmical system.</p> - -<p>(<i>ββ</i>) Certain writers have no doubt attempted to trace the origin -of the new principle of versification in <i>Arabian</i> literature. The -artistic education, however, of the famous poets of the East is of -later date than the appearance of rhyme in western Christendom; and any -Mohammedan art of a more early time exercised no real influence on the -West. We should, however, add that we find from the first in Arabian -poetry essential affinities with the romantic principle, in which the -knights of Europe, at the time of the crusades, very readily made -themselves at home; and consequently it is not difficult to understand -how, in the affinity of spiritual tendencies<a name="FNanchor_38_67" id="FNanchor_38_67"></a><a href="#Footnote_38_67" class="fnanchor">[38]</a> which they shared, -and in which the poetry of Eastern Mohammedanism no less than Western -Christianity finds its source, though removed in the world from each -other, we meet for the first time and on its own independent footing a -novel type of verse writing.</p> - -<p>(<i>γγ</i>) A <i>third</i> source, to which again, independently of either -the influence of the classic languages or the Arabic, we may trace -the origins of rhyme and all that it implies, are the <i>Germanic</i> -languages, as we find them in their earliest Scandinavian development. -As illustration of this we have the songs of the ancient Edda, which, -though only in more recent times, collected and edited, unquestionably -date from a former age. In these, as we shall see later on, it is -not, it is true, the genuine rhyme-sound which is elaborated in its -perfection, but rather an effective emphasis upon particular sounds of -language, and a regularity defined by rule, with a definite repetition -of both aspects.</p> - -<p>(<i>β</i>) Yet more important than the question of origin is the -characteristic <i>difference</i> between the new system and the old. I have -already adverted to the fundamental feature of importance here; it only -remains to establish it more narrowly.</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_89" id="Page_89">[Pg 89]</a></span></p> - -<p>Rhythmical versification attained its most beautiful and richest -development in the field of Hellenic poetry, in which we may discover -the most eminent features of the type wherever it obtains. Briefly they -are as follows:</p> - -<p><i>First</i>, the sound, as such, of letters, syllables, or words does -not here constitute its material, but rather the syllabic sound in -its <i>temporal duration</i>, so that attention must neither exclusively -be directed to particular syllables or words, nor to the purely -qualitative similarity or identity of their sound. On the contrary, the -sound still remains in inseparable union with the static time-measure -of its specific duration; and in the forward movement of both the ear -has to follow the value of every separate syllable no less than the -principle which obtains in the rhythmical progression of all equally -together. <i>Secondly</i>, the measure of long and short syllables, no less -than that of rhythmical rise and fall, and varied animation derived -from more deliberate caesurae and moments of pause, depends upon the -<i>natural</i> element of the language, without permitting any introduction -of that type of accentuation, by virtue of which the actual <i>meaning</i> -of the word leaves its impress on a syllable or a word. The -versification asserts itself in its collocation of feet, its verse -accent, its caesurae, and so forth in this respect as fully independent -as the language itself, which also, outside the domain of poetry, -already accepts accentuation from the natural quantity of syllables -and their relations of juxtaposition, and not from the significance of -the root-syllable. On this account, <i>thirdly</i>, we have as the vital -emphasis of certain syllables, first, the verse accent and rhythm, -and, secondly, all other accentuation, both of which aspects, in their -twofold contribution to the varied character of the whole, pass in and -out of one another without any mutual derangement or suppression; and -in like manner respectively they satisfy the claim of the poetical -imagination in fully admitting the expressiveness due, by virtue of the -nature of their position and movement, to words which, in respect to -their intelligible meaning, are of a greater importance than others.</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_90" id="Page_90">[Pg 90]</a></span></p> - -<p>(<i>αα</i>) The first alteration, then, effected by rhymed verse in -the previous system is this indisputable validity of <i>natural -quantity</i>,<a name="FNanchor_39_68" id="FNanchor_39_68"></a><a href="#Footnote_39_68" class="fnanchor">[39]</a> If, therefore, any time-measure at all is permitted to -remain, it is compelled to seek for a basis for such quantitative pause -or acceleration, which it refuses any longer to find in the natural -quantity, of syllables, in some other province. And this, as we have -seen, can be no other than the intrinsic meaning of syllables and -words. It is this <i>significance</i> which in the final instance determines -the quantitative measure of syllables, so long as such is still -regarded as essential at all, and by doing so transfers the criterium -from the purely objective medium<a name="FNanchor_40_69" id="FNanchor_40_69"></a><a href="#Footnote_40_69" class="fnanchor">[40]</a> and its natural structure to the -ideal subject-matter.</p> - -<p>(<i>ββ</i>) A further result follows from this of yet more importance. As -I have already pointed out, this collocation of the emphasis on the -significant stem-syllable dissipates that other independent diffusion -of it in manifold forms of inflexion, which our rhythmical system -is not yet forced to treat as negligible, in contrast to the stem, -because it deduces neither the natural quantity of syllables nor the -accent which it asserts from the intelligible significance. In the -case, however, where such an explication,<a name="FNanchor_41_70" id="FNanchor_41_70"></a><a href="#Footnote_41_70" class="fnanchor">[41]</a> with its co-ordination -in verse-feet according to the quantity of syllables in their natural -stability, falls away the entire system therewith necessarily -collapses, which reposes on the time-measure and its laws. Of this -type, for example, is French and Italian poetry, the metre and rhythm -of which are absolutely non-existent as understood by the ancients. The -entire question is here merely one of a definite number of syllables.</p> - -<p>(<i>γγ</i>) For such a loss there is only one possible compensation—that -of <i>rhyme.</i> In other words, if—this is one aspect—it is no longer -time-duration which receives objective expression, by means of which -the sound of syllables flows on freely in the even movement that -intrinsically belongs to them; if, furthermore, the intelligible -significance dominates over the stem-syllables, and coalesces with -the same without further organic expatiation into a determinate -unity, we have no sensuous medium, such as is able to maintain itself -<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_91" id="Page_91">[Pg 91]</a></span>independently of the time-measure, no less than this accentuation of -the stem-syllables, finally left to us other than just this syllabic -sound.</p> - -<p>Such a sound, however, if it is to secure an independent attention, -must, in the <i>first</i> place, be of a far more insistent kind than the -interchange of different tones, such as we met with in the older verse -metres; and its assertion must be of a far more overwhelming character -than the stress of syllables can lay claim to in ordinary speech. -What we now require has not only to compensate us for the loss of the -articulate time-measure, but it further undertakes to reassert the -sensuous medium in its opposition to that unqualified predominance of -the accentuated significance. For when once the conceptive content -has essentially attained the ideality and penetration of mind,<a name="FNanchor_42_71" id="FNanchor_42_71"></a><a href="#Footnote_42_71" class="fnanchor">[42]</a> -for which the sensuous aspect of speech is of no importance, the -verbal sound must enforce itself still more positively and coarsely as -distinct from this ideality in order to arrest our attention at all. -In contrast, therefore, to the gentle movements of rhythmical euphony, -rhyme is a crude expedient,<a name="FNanchor_43_72" id="FNanchor_43_72"></a><a href="#Footnote_43_72" class="fnanchor">[43]</a> which requires an ear by no means -either so trained or sensitive as that presupposed by Greek verse. -<i>Secondly,</i> though it is true that rhyme does not here assert itself -so much as distinct from the meaning of the stem-syllables simply as -it does from the entire ideal content, yet it does at the same time -so far assist the natural verbal sound as to win for it a relatively -secure stability. But this object can only be attained if the -sound<a name="FNanchor_44_73" id="FNanchor_44_73"></a><a href="#Footnote_44_73" class="fnanchor">[44]</a> of particular words affirms itself in exclusive distinction -from the resonance of other words, and thus secures an independent -existence, by virtue of which <i>isolation</i> it satisfies the claims of -the formative aspect of the verbal medium in forceful beats of sound. -Rhyme is therefore, at least in its contrast to the evenly transfused -movement of rhythmic euphony, a detached exhibition of exclusive -tonal expression. <i>Thirdly,</i> we found that <span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_92" id="Page_92">[Pg 92]</a></span>it was the ideality of -the conscious self which, by virtue of its effort of ideal synthesis, -came into its own, and discovered its personal satisfaction in such -recurrences of sound. If, then, the means used in the older type of -versification, with its copious variety of structure, disappear, there -only remains, if we look at poetry, under the aspect of its <i>medium,</i> -to support this principle of self-recovery, the more formal repetition -of wholly identical or similar sounds, whereby again we are able to -unite under an intelligible scheme<a name="FNanchor_45_74" id="FNanchor_45_74"></a><a href="#Footnote_45_74" class="fnanchor">[45]</a> the assertion and relation of -closely associated meanings in the rhyme-sounds of expressive words. -The metre of rhythmical verse we may regard as a variously articulate -interrelation of manifold syllabic quantities. Rhyme, on the contrary, -is from one point of view more material;<a name="FNanchor_46_75" id="FNanchor_46_75"></a><a href="#Footnote_46_75" class="fnanchor">[46]</a> yet, on the other hand, -is itself more abstractly placed within this medium. In other words, -it is the mere recollection of mind and the ear of the recurrence of -identical or related sounds and significations—a recurrence in which -the poet is conscious of his own activity, recognizes, and is pleased -to recognize, himself therein as both agent and participant.</p> - -<p>(<i>γ</i>) Finally, on the question of the particular <i>types</i> under which we -may classify this more modern system of romantic poetry, I only propose -to advert briefly to what appears to me of most importance in respect -to alliteration, assonance, and ordinary rhyme.</p> - -<p>(<i>αα</i>) The first, or at least the most thorough, example of -<i>alliteration</i> is that we find elaborated in the earliest Scandinavian -poetry, where it supplies the fundamental basis, whereas assonance -and the terminal rhyme, albeit these two aspects play a by no means -unimportant part, are, however, only present in certain particular -kinds of such poetry. The principle of alliterative rhyme, letter -rhyme, is rhyme in its most incomplete form, because it does not -require the recurrence of the entire syllable, but only that of one -identical letter, and primarily the initial letter only. Owing to -the weakness of this type of recurrent sound it is, in the first -place, therefore necessary that only such words should be<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_93" id="Page_93">[Pg 93]</a></span> used in -its service, which already independently possess an express accent on -their first syllable; and, secondly, these words must not be remote -from one another, if the identity of their commencement is to make a -real impression on the ear. For the rest, alliterative letters may be a -vowel, no less than a double or single consonant; but it is primarily -consonants which are of most importance in the scheme. Based on such -conditions, we find in Icelandic poetry<a name="FNanchor_47_76" id="FNanchor_47_76"></a><a href="#Footnote_47_76" class="fnanchor">[47]</a> the fundamental rule that -all alliterative rhymes require accentuated<a name="FNanchor_48_77" id="FNanchor_48_77"></a><a href="#Footnote_48_77" class="fnanchor">[48]</a> syllables, whose -initial letters must not in the same lines occur in other substantives -which have the accent on the first syllable; and, along with this, of -the three words, the initial letters of which constitute the rhyme, -two must be found in the first line, and the third, which supplies the -dominant alliteration, must be placed at the commencement of the second -line. We may add further that, in virtue of the abstract character -of this identical sound of initial letters, words are generally made -alliterative proportionally to the importance of their signification. -We find, therefore, that here, too, the relation of accented sound to -the meaning of words is not entirely absent. I cannot, however, pursue -this subject into more detail.</p> - -<p>(<i>ββ</i>) <i>Secondly</i>, <i>assonance</i> has nothing to do with initial letters, -but makes a nearer approach to rhyme in so far as it is a recurrence -in identical sound of the same letters in the middle or at the -termination of different words. It is not necessary, of course, that -these assonant words should in all cases come at the conclusion of -a line; they may fall into other places. Mainly, however, it is the -concluding syllables of lines which come into this mutual relation of -assonance, as contrasted with alliteration which is effective rather at -the line's commencement. In its richest elaboration we may associate -this assonance of language with the Romance nations, more especially -the Spanish, whose full-toned language is peculiarly adapted to this -recurrence of the same vowels. As a rule, no doubt assonance is here -restricted to vowels. But the language further permits of other variety -of assonance, not only that of vowels, but also that of identical -consonants and consonants in association with one vowel.</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_94" id="Page_94">[Pg 94]</a></span></p> - -<p>(<i>γγ</i>) That which, as above described, alliteration and assonance are -only able to establish with incompleteness is abundantly fulfilled by -<i>rhyme.</i> In it, and expressly to the exclusion of initial letters, we -have asserted the wholly equable sound of entire verb stems,<a name="FNanchor_49_78" id="FNanchor_49_78"></a><a href="#Footnote_49_78" class="fnanchor">[49]</a> which -are, by virtue of this equability, brought into an express relation -with their tonal utterance. We have no mere question now of the number -of the syllables. Words of one syllable, no less than others of two or -more, may be rhymed. By this means we not only get the masculine rhyme, -which is restricted to words of one syllable, but also the feminine -rhyme, which embraces words of two syllables, as also the so-called -gliding rhyme, which reaches to three or even more syllables. It is -in particular the languages of Northern Europe which incline to the -first type, Southern languages to the second, such as the Italian and -Spanish. The German and French languages would appear to lie between -these two extremes. Rhymes of more than three syllables are rarely to -be met with in any language.</p> - -<p>The position of the rhyme is at the conclusion of the lines, in -which the rhyming word, although there is certainly no reason that -it should ever concentrate in itself the ideal expressiveness of the -significance, nevertheless does attract attention to itself so far as -the verbal sound is concerned; and, furthermore, it makes the different -verses or stanzas follow one another either in accordance with the -principle of a wholly abstract recurrence of the same rhyme, or by -uniting, separating, and mutually relating them in a more elaborate -mode of regulated change, and variously symmetrical interweaving of -different rhymes with correspondent relations, sometimes more near, -at others more remote, of every degree of complexity. In such a -process the particular rhymes will at one point stare us in the face -at once, or they will appear to have a game of hide-and seek; so that -in this way our ear, as it listens, will at one time receive instant -satisfaction, at another it will only find it after considerable delay, -wherein the expectation will, as it were, be coquetted with, deceived, -and kept on the stretch, until the assured end from point to point of -artistically arranged recurrence is reached, and with it the hearer's -approval.</p> - -<p>Among the various types of the poetic art it is pre-emine<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_95" id="Page_95">[Pg 95]</a></span>ntly <i>lyric</i> -poetry, which, by virtue of its ideality and personal quality of -expression, most readily avails itself of rhyme, and thereby converts -language itself into a music of emotion and melodic symmetry, a -symmetry not merely of time-measure and rhythmical movement, but of -the kind of resonance which finds a responsive echo in the inner life -itself. To promote this, therefore, the art elaborates in its use -of rhyme a more simple or complex system of strophes, every one of -which is part of one organic whole. Examples of such an interplay of -melodic sound, whether steeped in emotion or rich in ingenuity, are the -sonnet, canzonet, triolet, and madrigal. Epic poetry, on the contrary, -so long as it does not mingle lyrical subject-matter with its more -native character, preserves a more equable advance in its construction, -which does not easily adapt itself to the strophe. We have an obvious -illustration of this in the triplet stanzas of Dante's "Divine Comedy," -as contrasted with the lyrical canzonets and sonnets of the same poet. -However, I must not permit myself to go further into detail.</p> - -<p>(<i>c</i>) Now that we have in the above investigation separated rhythmical -versification from rhyme, and <i>contrasted</i> the same, we may now -proceed, <i>thirdly</i>, to ask ourselves whether a <i>combination</i> of the -two is not also intelligible, and, indeed, actually employed. The -existence of certain more recent languages will render exceptional and -important aid to the solution; in other words, we cannot deny to these -either a partial reassertion of our former rhythmical system, or, in -certain respects, an association of the same with rhyme. We will, for -example, confine our attention to our mother tongue, and, in reference -to the first-mentioned aspect, it will be sufficient to recall -Klopstock, who would have as little of rhyme as possible; who not -merely in epic, but also in lyrical poetry, set himself to imitate the -ancients with the greatest enthusiasm and persistency. Voss and others -have followed in his steps, ever striving to enforce with increased -strictness principles upon which to base this rhythmical treatment of -our language. Goethe, on the contrary, never felt quite himself in his -classical syllabic measures. He asks himself, not without reason:</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_96" id="Page_96">[Pg 96]</a></span></p> - -<p style="margin-left: 10%;"> -Stehn uns diese weiten Falten<br /> -Zu Gesichte, wie den Alten?<a name="FNanchor_50_79" id="FNanchor_50_79"></a><a href="#Footnote_50_79" class="fnanchor">[50]</a><br /> -</p> - -<p>(<i>α</i>) I will in this connection merely reiterate what I already -have observed upon the distinction which exists between ancient and -more modern languages. Rhythmical versification is based upon the -<i>natural</i> quantity of syllables, possessing therein an essentially -stable criterion, which the ideal expression can neither limit, -alter, or weaken. Such a natural measure is, however, abhorrent to -more recent languages; in these it is only the <i>verbal</i> accent of the -ideal significance, which makes one syllable long in its contrast to -others, which are defective in such significance. Such a principle -of accentuation, however, does not supply any audible compensation -for the absence of the natural quantity, or rather it adds to the -actual uncertainty of such a measure. For the more strongly emphasized -significance of a word can at the same time make another short, despite -the fact that, taken by itself, it possesses a verbal accent, so that -the criterion accepted is wholly one of mutual relation. <i>Du liebst,</i> -can, for instance, according to the stress of the emphasis which is -thrown, according to the sense intended, either on both words, or one -or the other, be a spondee, iambus or trochee. No doubt the attempt has -been made, even in our own tongue, to return to the <i>natural</i> quantity -of syllables, and to create rules with this intent; but in the presence -of the overwhelming importance that the intelligible significance and -the accent it asserts has secured such a reference to theory is quite -impracticable. And in truth this agrees with the state of the facts. -If the natural measure is really to constitute the essential basis, -the language ought not as yet to have become such an instrument of -soul expression as it is of necessity in our own times. Once allow, -however, that it has already in its course of development thus secured -such a mastery of the intelligible purport over the sensuous or native -material, and it follows that the fundamental test for the value of -syllables is not to be deduced from the objective quantity itself, but -rather from that whereof words are themselves indicative as means. The -emotional impulse of a free intelligence refuses to allow the temporal -a<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_97" id="Page_97">[Pg 97]</a></span>ctivity of language, as such, to establish itself in the independent -form of its native and objective reality.</p> - -<p>(<i>β</i>) Such a conclusion, however, does not necessarily imply that we -are forced to oust altogether from our German language the rhymeless -rhythmical treatment of the syllabic measure; it merely in essential -respects points to this, that it is not possible, conformably with the -character of the structure of our modern speech, to retain the plastic -consistency of the metrical medium as it was secured by the ancient -world. We must consequently seek for and elaborate some further element -in poetical composition by way of compensation, which on its own -independent account is of a more ideal<a name="FNanchor_51_80" id="FNanchor_51_80"></a><a href="#Footnote_51_80" class="fnanchor">[51]</a> character than the stable -natural quantity of syllables. Such an element is the accent of the -verse, no less than the caesura, which as now constituted, instead of -moving independently of the verbal accent, coalesce with the same, and -thereby receive a more significant, albeit a more abstract assertion, -in virtue of the fact that the variety of that previous threefold -accentuation, which we discovered in the rhythmical type of classical -poetry, on account of this very coalescence necessarily disappears. -It, however, equally follows as a result that we only retain the power -with conspicuous success to imitate the rhythmic movement of such -poetry where its impression on our ear is most emphatic. We no longer -possess, that is to say, the stable quantitative basis for its more -subtle distinctions and manifold connections, and the more crude mode -of accentuation, which we do possess in its place, to emphasize our -measure, is intrinsically no sufficient substitute.</p> - -<p>(<i>γ</i>) To state, then, finally, what this actual <i>association</i> of the -rhythmical mode of verse with rhyme is, we may go so far as to affirm -that it is the absorption, although to a limited extent, by the more -modern form of versification of the more ancient one.</p> - -<p>(<i>αα</i>) The predominant distinction of the natural syllabic quantity -by means of the verbal accent is in fact not an entirely satisfactory -principle of the <i>mere medium.</i> It does not arrest the ear's attention, -even on the side of sense simply, so far as to make it appear, -absolutely and everywhere unnecessary, where the ideal aspect of the -poetical<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_98" id="Page_98">[Pg 98]</a></span> content is paramount, to summon the complementary assistance -of the sound and response of syllables and words.</p> - -<p>(<i>ββ</i>) It is, however, at the same time necessary in the interest -of metre that an equally strong contrasting force should be set up -to that of the rhyme sound. In so far, however, as it is <i>not</i> the -distinction of syllables in their natural quantity and <i>its variety</i>, -which has to be co-ordinated and made predominant, we have, in respect, -to this temporal relation, no other expedient left but the <i>identical -repetition</i> of the same time-measure; in this the element of accented -<i>beat</i> will tend to assert itself in a far more emphatic degree, than -is compatible with the rhythmical system. As an illustration we have -our German rhymed iambics and trochaics, in the recitation of which -far more beat stress is admitted than is proper to the scansion of the -unrhymed iambics of the ancients, although the caesura pause is capable -of bringing into emphatic relief isolated words whose accent is mainly -referable to their meaning, and is capable of further making all that -remains dependent upon them a resisting effect to the abstract equality -of the verse, and by so doing introduces a varied animation. And as -in such a particular case, so we may assert generally, the time-beat -cannot be of actual service in poetry with the force that is required -of it in most musical compositions.</p> - -<p>(<i>γγ</i>) Although, however, we may affirm it as a general rule that -rhyme should be associated merely with such verse metres, which, by -virtue of their simple changes of the syllabic quantity and their -continuous recurrence of similar verse feet, do not on their own -independent account give sufficiently effective modality to the element -of sensuous medium in modern languages which admit at all of rhythmical -treatment, yet the application of rhyme to the more profuse syllabic -metres imitated from classical models, as, for instance, to borrow -one example only, the alcaic and sapphic strophe, will not merely -appear superfluous, but even an unresolved contradiction. Both systems -repose on opposed principles, and the attempt to unite them in the way -suggested, can only involve us in a like opposition, which can produce -nothing but a contradiction we are unable to mediate, and which is -therefore untenable. It follows, therefore, that we ought only to make -use of rhyme in cases where the principle of the older versification -merely makes itself effective in more remote implication, and through a -transitional process essentially deducible from the system of rhyme.</p> - -<p>The above, then, are the points which we have sought to establish as, -in a broad sense, of most vital concern to poetical expression in its -contradistinction from prose.</p> - -<hr class="r5" /> - -<div class="footnote"> - -<p><a name="Footnote_1_30" id="Footnote_1_30"></a><a href="#FNanchor_1_30"><span class="label">[1]</span></a> <i>Bildlich,</i> here not so much creative as simply plastic or -constructive.</p></div> - -<div class="footnote"> - -<p><a name="Footnote_2_31" id="Footnote_2_31"></a><a href="#FNanchor_2_31"><span class="label">[2]</span></a> <i>Vorliebe.</i> His interest must be already centred in it.</p></div> - -<div class="footnote"> - -<p><a name="Footnote_3_32" id="Footnote_3_32"></a><a href="#FNanchor_3_32"><span class="label">[3]</span></a> <i>Bildlichkeit</i>, <i>i.e.</i> their claims as images of something -else.</p></div> - -<div class="footnote"> - -<p><a name="Footnote_4_33" id="Footnote_4_33"></a><a href="#FNanchor_4_33"><span class="label">[4]</span></a> <i>Vertauscht.</i> I have translated "exchanged," but Hegel may -mean "mistaken for."</p></div> - -<div class="footnote"> - -<p><a name="Footnote_5_34" id="Footnote_5_34"></a><a href="#FNanchor_5_34"><span class="label">[5]</span></a> It is not very clear what Hegel means by the word -<i>Bezeichnungen.</i> "Turns of expression," which first occurred to me, -appears to be covered by <i>Flexionsformen</i> lower down.</p></div> - -<div class="footnote"> - -<p><a name="Footnote_6_35" id="Footnote_6_35"></a><a href="#FNanchor_6_35"><span class="label">[6]</span></a> <i>Gedrungenen.</i> The idea is suppression into a compact -mass—a cloud unable to burst save in occasional flashes.</p></div> - -<div class="footnote"> - -<p><a name="Footnote_7_36" id="Footnote_7_36"></a><a href="#FNanchor_7_36"><span class="label">[7]</span></a> I presume Hegel refers here to the synthetic arrangement -of genuine paragraphs rather than phrases, composition generally.</p></div> - -<div class="footnote"> - -<p><a name="Footnote_8_37" id="Footnote_8_37"></a><a href="#FNanchor_8_37"><span class="label">[8]</span></a> <i>Das eigentliche Wort</i>. The word, that is, which expresses -the fact in its immediacy.</p></div> - -<div class="footnote"> - -<p><a name="Footnote_9_38" id="Footnote_9_38"></a><a href="#FNanchor_9_38"><span class="label">[9]</span></a> More literally, "being remoulded with the life and wealth -of Spirit."</p></div> - -<div class="footnote"> - -<p><a name="Footnote_10_39" id="Footnote_10_39"></a><a href="#FNanchor_10_39"><span class="label">[10]</span></a> <i>Besonnenheit</i>, <i>i.e.,</i> real thought-fullness.</p></div> - -<div class="footnote"> - -<p><a name="Footnote_11_40" id="Footnote_11_40"></a><a href="#FNanchor_11_40"><span class="label">[11]</span></a> <i>Der künstlerischen Ruhe.</i> The personal predilection of -Hegel for classic art here once more asserts itself.</p></div> - -<div class="footnote"> - -<p><a name="Footnote_12_41" id="Footnote_12_41"></a><a href="#FNanchor_12_41"><span class="label">[12]</span></a> The German word is <i>Sinnen</i>, but I think, though the -emotional sense is partly implied, the main emphasis is on a presiding -mind—or rather a wide-visioned genius.</p></div> - -<div class="footnote"> - -<p><a name="Footnote_13_42" id="Footnote_13_42"></a><a href="#FNanchor_13_42"><span class="label">[13]</span></a> <i>Eine sprudelnde Anschauung.</i> A view of things that -bubbles forth like a fountain.</p></div> - -<div class="footnote"> - -<p><a name="Footnote_14_43" id="Footnote_14_43"></a><a href="#FNanchor_14_43"><span class="label">[14]</span></a> That is, the medium of literary form.</p></div> - -<div class="footnote"> - -<p><a name="Footnote_15_44" id="Footnote_15_44"></a><a href="#FNanchor_15_44"><span class="label">[15]</span></a> <i>Ein hartes Band.</i> The idea is not so much difficult as -unyielding, unmalleable.</p></div> - -<div class="footnote"> - -<p><a name="Footnote_16_45" id="Footnote_16_45"></a><a href="#FNanchor_16_45"><span class="label">[16]</span></a> <i>Zum Ernste des Inhalts</i>. That is, the earnestness of -a product of mind as such. Hegel seems to contrast with this the -spontaneity of an art which, as inspired by genius, comes to us with -the freshness of Nature herself, take Shakespeare's songs for example.</p></div> - -<div class="footnote"> - -<p><a name="Footnote_17_46" id="Footnote_17_46"></a><a href="#FNanchor_17_46"><span class="label">[17]</span></a> <i>Ungebunden.</i> That is, it is contingent.</p></div> - -<div class="footnote"> - -<p><a name="Footnote_18_47" id="Footnote_18_47"></a><a href="#FNanchor_18_47"><span class="label">[18]</span></a> Hegel calls this the <i>Verstandesaccent</i>, and speaks of -this importance (<i>Bedeutsamkeit</i>) as a product of the syllables.</p></div> - -<div class="footnote"> - -<p><a name="Footnote_19_48" id="Footnote_19_48"></a><a href="#FNanchor_19_48"><span class="label">[19]</span></a> I presume the words <i>das für sich gestaltete Klingen</i> -refer to rhyme.</p></div> - -<div class="footnote"> - -<p><a name="Footnote_20_49" id="Footnote_20_49"></a><a href="#FNanchor_20_49"><span class="label">[20]</span></a> <i>Eine Sammlung in sich</i>, that is, an independent -collection or aggregate.</p></div> - -<div class="footnote"> - -<p><a name="Footnote_21_50" id="Footnote_21_50"></a><a href="#FNanchor_21_50"><span class="label">[21]</span></a> <i>Anheben</i> may possibly mean appearance in the defined -series generally.</p></div> - -<div class="footnote"> - -<p><a name="Footnote_22_51" id="Footnote_22_51"></a><a href="#FNanchor_22_51"><span class="label">[22]</span></a> By <i>Versen</i> Hegel means rather lines than a number of -them.</p></div> - -<div class="footnote"> - -<p><a name="Footnote_23_52" id="Footnote_23_52"></a><a href="#FNanchor_23_52"><span class="label">[23]</span></a> The dative appears to be a misprint. The passage should -be read <i>der</i> and <i>die,</i> instead of <i>dem</i> and <i>der</i>.</p></div> - -<div class="footnote"> - -<p><a name="Footnote_24_53" id="Footnote_24_53"></a><a href="#FNanchor_24_53"><span class="label">[24]</span></a> I am not quite sure what Hegel refers to in what he -describes as <i>das Hinübergreifen des Wortes.</i> I presume he means what -are known as weak endings to a line.</p></div> - -<div class="footnote"> - -<p><a name="Footnote_25_54" id="Footnote_25_54"></a><a href="#FNanchor_25_54"><span class="label">[25]</span></a> <i>Gedrungen.</i> I suppose this is the meaning. The entire -passage is a difficult one to follow.</p></div> - -<div class="footnote"> - -<p><a name="Footnote_26_55" id="Footnote_26_55"></a><a href="#FNanchor_26_55"><span class="label">[26]</span></a> <i>Ein allgemeines Hören.</i></p></div> - -<div class="footnote"> - -<p><a name="Footnote_27_56" id="Footnote_27_56"></a><a href="#FNanchor_27_56"><span class="label">[27]</span></a> That is, the accent of the syllables as a mere medium of -uttered speech.</p></div> - -<div class="footnote"> - -<p><a name="Footnote_28_57" id="Footnote_28_57"></a><a href="#FNanchor_28_57"><span class="label">[28]</span></a> Lit., has its flank turned, <i>überflügelt.</i></p></div> - -<div class="footnote"> - -<p><a name="Footnote_29_58" id="Footnote_29_58"></a><a href="#FNanchor_29_58"><span class="label">[29]</span></a> <i>Die blosse Vergeistigung.</i></p></div> - -<div class="footnote"> - -<p><a name="Footnote_30_59" id="Footnote_30_59"></a><a href="#FNanchor_30_59"><span class="label">[30]</span></a> No other means to divert the ears attention. The sentence -is rather involved, and I have not seen my way to simplify it.</p></div> - -<div class="footnote"> - -<p><a name="Footnote_31_60" id="Footnote_31_60"></a><a href="#FNanchor_31_60"><span class="label">[31]</span></a> <i>Abstract unterworfen.</i> Hegel apparently means abstract -as detached from the natural medium of language—becoming thereby the -abstract symbol of idea exclusively.</p></div> - -<div class="footnote"> - -<p><a name="Footnote_32_61" id="Footnote_32_61"></a><a href="#FNanchor_32_61"><span class="label">[32]</span></a> As in musical art.</p></div> - -<div class="footnote"> - -<p><a name="Footnote_33_62" id="Footnote_33_62"></a><a href="#FNanchor_33_62"><span class="label">[33]</span></a> <i>Seelen-tonen</i>, <i>i.e.,</i> the wave and flow of the -emotional life itself.</p></div> - -<div class="footnote"> - -<p><a name="Footnote_34_63" id="Footnote_34_63"></a><a href="#FNanchor_34_63"><span class="label">[34]</span></a> <i>In das Spielen</i>. Hegel repeats his use of the expression -above, <i>beiher Spielen</i>, lit., the playing with not as a toy but as -something serious.</p></div> - -<div class="footnote"> - -<p><a name="Footnote_35_64" id="Footnote_35_64"></a><a href="#FNanchor_35_64"><span class="label">[35]</span></a> I suppose this is the meaning here of <i>Sharfsinn,</i> but -"subtlety" may be included.</p></div> - -<div class="footnote"> - -<p><a name="Footnote_36_65" id="Footnote_36_65"></a><a href="#FNanchor_36_65"><span class="label">[36]</span></a> Indifferent, that is, as asserting the creative freedom -of the poet, he can select his own rhymes as he wills. Hegel, however, -seems rather to miss the essential spontaneity of really good blank -verse.</p></div> - -<div class="footnote"> - -<p><a name="Footnote_37_66" id="Footnote_37_66"></a><a href="#FNanchor_37_66"><span class="label">[37]</span></a> So I translate <i>die innere Subjectivität</i>, but it may -refer perhaps to the entire creative personality.</p></div> - -<div class="footnote"> - -<p><a name="Footnote_38_67" id="Footnote_38_67"></a><a href="#FNanchor_38_67"><span class="label">[38]</span></a> That is, I presume, their relation to romantic art.</p></div> - -<div class="footnote"> - -<p><a name="Footnote_39_68" id="Footnote_39_68"></a><a href="#FNanchor_39_68"><span class="label">[39]</span></a> That is, the primary feature changed is that of the -validity of natural quantity.</p></div> - -<div class="footnote"> - -<p><a name="Footnote_40_69" id="Footnote_40_69"></a><a href="#FNanchor_40_69"><span class="label">[40]</span></a> <i>Dem Äusseren Daseyn.</i> That is, of language.</p></div> - -<div class="footnote"> - -<p><a name="Footnote_41_70" id="Footnote_41_70"></a><a href="#FNanchor_41_70"><span class="label">[41]</span></a> <i>Entfaltung.</i> Such an explication of rhythmical euphony -as the previous system discloses.</p></div> - -<div class="footnote"> - -<p><a name="Footnote_42_71" id="Footnote_42_71"></a><a href="#FNanchor_42_71"><span class="label">[42]</span></a> <i>Geistes.</i> All that pertains to conscious life.</p></div> - -<div class="footnote"> - -<p><a name="Footnote_43_72" id="Footnote_43_72"></a><a href="#FNanchor_43_72"><span class="label">[43]</span></a> Lit., a blunt or coarse sound, <i>ein plumpes Klingen.</i></p></div> - -<div class="footnote"> - -<p><a name="Footnote_44_73" id="Footnote_44_73"></a><a href="#FNanchor_44_73"><span class="label">[44]</span></a> <i>Tonen</i> implies sound no less than accent. I have -rendered it in various ways.</p></div> - -<div class="footnote"> - -<p><a name="Footnote_45_74" id="Footnote_45_74"></a><a href="#FNanchor_45_74"><span class="label">[45]</span></a> <i>Von Seiten des Geistes.</i> Perhaps rather "as aspects of -the poet's intelligence"—that is, with reference to the self-assertion -above explained.</p></div> - -<div class="footnote"> - -<p><a name="Footnote_46_75" id="Footnote_46_75"></a><a href="#FNanchor_46_75"><span class="label">[46]</span></a> More nearly related to the natural medium of language.</p></div> - -<div class="footnote"> - -<p><a name="Footnote_47_76" id="Footnote_47_76"></a><a href="#FNanchor_47_76"><span class="label">[47]</span></a> <i>Die Verslehre der Isländer v. Rask, verd. von Mohnike</i>, -Berlin, 1830, pp. 14-17.</p> -</div> - -<div class="footnote"> - -<p><a name="Footnote_48_77" id="Footnote_48_77"></a><a href="#FNanchor_48_77"><span class="label">[48]</span></a><i>Betonte</i>, see above note on <i>Tonen.</i></p></div> - -<div class="footnote"> - -<p><a name="Footnote_49_78" id="Footnote_49_78"></a><a href="#FNanchor_49_78"><span class="label">[49]</span></a> <i>Stämme</i>, the stem of verbs, rather than the root of -substantives, which would be more correctly <i>stammwort.</i></p></div> - -<div class="footnote"> - -<p><a name="Footnote_50_79" id="Footnote_50_79"></a><a href="#FNanchor_50_79"><span class="label">[50]</span></a> "Do we moderns face broad reaches such as these, as -did the ancients?" <i>Falten</i>, folds, expatiation of subject-matter. -I presume, though I do not recall the context, that the allusion is -mainly to elegiacs.</p></div> - -<div class="footnote"> - -<p><a name="Footnote_51_80" id="Footnote_51_80"></a><a href="#FNanchor_51_80"><span class="label">[51]</span></a> <i>I.e.</i>, more related to active intelligence.</p></div> - - -<hr class="chap" /> -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_99" id="Page_99">[Pg 99]</a></span></p> -<h4><a name="III" id="III">III</a></h4> - - -<h4>THE SEVERAL GENERIC TYPES OF POETRY</h4> - - -<p>The two fundamental aspects, according to which we have hitherto -examined the poetical art were, in the first instance, that of poetical -significance or content <i>in the broadest sense</i>, the nature of the -outlook of a poetical composition and the creative activity of the -poet; secondly, poetical <i>expression,</i> not merely respectively to the -ideas which have to be embodied in <i>words,</i> but also to the modes under -which they are expressed and the character of <i>versification.</i></p> - -<p>I. What we, above all, in these respects endeavoured to enforce -consisted in this, that poetry has to embrace the ideality of -conscious life as its content; yet, in its artistic elaboration of -the same, it cannot rest satisfied with the objective form of direct -perception as other plastic arts; nor can it accept as its form the -emotional ideality which alone reverberates through our soul-life, -nor yet that of<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_100" id="Page_100">[Pg 100]</a></span> thinking and the relations of reflective thought. -It has to maintain a mediate position between the extremes of -immediate objectivity and the inner life of feeling and thought. This -intermediate sphere of conception overlaps both sides. From thought it -borrows the aspect of ideal <i>universality,</i> which binds together the -immediate particularity of the senses in more definitive simplicity; -while, on the other hand, its mode of envisagement shares with plastic -art the haphazard<a name="FNanchor_1_81" id="FNanchor_1_81"></a><a href="#Footnote_1_81" class="fnanchor">[1]</a> juxtaposition of objects in space. The poetic -imagination, moreover, is essentially distinct from thinking in that it -permits, under the mode of sensuous apprehension from which it starts, -particular ideas to remain in an unrelated series or contiguity; pure -thinking, on the other hand, demands and promotes the reciprocal -dependence of determinate concepts on each other, an interstructure of -relations, consequential or conclusive judgments, and so forth. When, -therefore, the <i>poetical</i> imagination in its art-products renders -necessary an ideal unity of all particularity, such integration -may easily meet with obstruction by virtue of the above-mentioned -diffuseness<a name="FNanchor_2_82" id="FNanchor_2_82"></a><a href="#Footnote_2_82" class="fnanchor">[2]</a> which the nature of its content forbids it wholly to -eschew; and it is just this which puts it in the power of poetry to -embody and present a content in organic and vital inter-connection of -successive aspects and divisions, yet impressed at the same time with -the apparent independence of these. And by this means it is possible -for poetry to extend the selected content at one time rather in the -direction of abstract thought, at another rather under the condition -of the phenomenal world, and consequently to include within its survey -the most sublime thoughts of speculative philosophy, no less than the -external objects of Nature, always provided that the former are not put -forward in the logical forms of ratiocination and scientific deduction, -or the latter as void of all vital or other significance. The function, -in short, of poetry is to present a complete world, whose ideal or -essential content must be spread before us under the external guise of -human actions, events<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_101" id="Page_101">[Pg 101]</a></span>, and other manifestations of soul;life, with all -the wealth and directness compatible with such art.</p> - -<p>2. This explication, however, does not receive its sensuous embodiment -in stone, wood, or colour, but exclusively in language, whose -versification, accentuation, and the rest are in fact the trappings<a name="FNanchor_3_83" id="FNanchor_3_83"></a><a href="#Footnote_3_83" class="fnanchor">[3]</a> -of speech, by means of which the ideal content secures an external -form. If we ask ourselves now, to put the thing somewhat crudely, -where we are to look for the <i>material</i> consistency of this mode of -expression, we must reply that language is not essentially on all fours -with a work<a name="FNanchor_4_84" id="FNanchor_4_84"></a><a href="#Footnote_4_84" class="fnanchor">[4]</a> of plastic art, independent, that is, of the artistic -creator, but it is the <i>life of our humanity itself</i> the individual -speaker alone who is the vehicle of the sensuous presence and actuality -of a poetical work. The compositions of poetry must be recited, sung, -acted, reproduced, in short, by living people, just as the compositions -of music are so reproduced. We are no doubt accustomed to read epic -and lyric poetry, and only to hear drama recited and to see the same -accompanied by gesture. Poetry, however, is essentially and according -to its notion, <i>sonorous expression</i>, and we may, in particular, not -dispense with this, if a complete exposition of the art is our aim, -for the reason that it is the aspect and the only aspect, under which -it comes into genuine contact with objective existence. The printed -or written letter is, no doubt, also in a sense objectively present, -but it is merely as the indifferent symbol of sounds and words. We -no doubt have in a previous passage regarded words as the purely -external means which give us the signification of ideas. We must not, -however, overlook the fact that poetry, at any rate, so informs the -temporal element and sound of these signs, as to ennoble them in a<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_102" id="Page_102">[Pg 102]</a></span> -medium suffused with the ideal vitality of that, whereof, in their -abstractness, they are the symbols. The printing press merely makes -visible to our eyes this form of animation under a mode which, taken -by itself, is essentially indifferent and no longer coalescent with -the ideal content; it consigns it, in its altered form of visibility, -to the element of time-duration and the sound of ordinary speech,<a name="FNanchor_5_85" id="FNanchor_5_85"></a><a href="#Footnote_5_85" class="fnanchor">[5]</a> -instead of giving us in fact the accented word and its determinate -time-duration. When we, therefore, content ourselves with mere reading -we do so partly owing to the ease with which we can thus picture to -ourselves what is real as actually uttered in speech, partly because -of the undeniable fact that poetry alone among the arts, in aspects -of fundamental importance, is already completely at home in the life -of spirit, and neither the impression of it on our sense of sight or -hearing give us the root of the matter. Yet for all that, precisely -by virtue of this ideality, poetry, as art, ought not wholly to -divest itself of this aspect of objective expression, if at least it -is anxious to avoid an incompleteness similar to that in which, for -instance, the mere outlined drawing attempts to reproduce the picture -of famous colourists.</p> - -<p>3. As an artistically organic whole referred no longer to a specific -type of exclusive execution on account of the onesided character of its -medium, the art of poetry accepts in a general way for its determinate -form various types of art-production, and it is consequently necessary -to borrow the <i>criteria</i> of our <i>classification</i> of such <i>poetical -types</i> or species from the <i>general</i> notion of artistic production.<a name="FNanchor_6_86" id="FNanchor_6_86"></a><a href="#Footnote_6_86" class="fnanchor">[6]</a></p> - -<p>(<i>A</i>) In this respect it is, <i>first,</i> and from one point of view, -the form of objective reality, wherein poetry reproduces the evolved -content of conscious life in the ideal image, and therewithal -essentially repeats the principle of plastic art, which makes the -immediate object of fact visible. These plastic figures of the -imagination poetry furthermore unveils as determined in the activities -of human and divine beings, so that every thing, which takes place, -issues in part from<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_103" id="Page_103">[Pg 103]</a></span> ethically self-subsistent human or divine forces, -and in part also, by virtue of obstructive agencies, meets with a -reaction, and thus, in its external form of manifestation, becomes an -<i>event,</i> in which the facts in question disclose themselves in free -independence, and the poet retires into the background. To grasp such -events in a consequential whole is the task of <i>Epic</i> poetry, inasmuch -as its aim is just to declare poetically, and in the form of the actual -facts, either an essentially complete action, or the personalities, -from which the same proceeds in its substantive worth or its eventful -complexity amid the medley of external accidence. And by so doing it -represents the <i>objective</i> fact itself in its objectivity.</p> - -<p>And, moreover, the minstrel does not recite this positive world before -conscious sense and feeling in a way that would seem to announce it as -his personal phantasy, and his own heart's passion; rather this reciter -or rhapsodist recites it by heart, in a mechanical sort of way, and -in a metre which, while it repeats something of this monotony with -its uniformity of structure, rolls onward in a tranquil and steady -stream. What, in short, the minstrel narrates must appear as a part -of real life, which, in respect to content no less than presentation, -stands in absolute independence aloof from himself, the narrator; he is -throughout, in relation that is to the facts of his tale no less than -the manner in which he unfolds them, not permitted wholly to identify -his own personality with their substance.</p> - -<p>(<i>B</i>) In direct contrast to epic poetry we have our <i>second</i> type, that -namely of <i>lyrical</i> poetry. Its content is that within ourselves, the -ideal world, the contemplative or emotional life of soul, which instead -of following up actions, remains at home with itself in its own ideal -realm, and, consequently, is able to accept <i>self-expression</i> as its -unique and indeed final end. Here we have, therefore, no substantive -totality, self-evolved as external fact or event, but the express -outlook, emotion and observation of the individual's self-introspective -life shares in what is substantive and actual therein as its own, as -its passion, mood or reflection; we have here the birth of its own -loins. Such a fulfilment and ideal process is not adequately realized -in a mechanical delivery such as we saw was conceded as appropriate<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_104" id="Page_104">[Pg 104]</a></span> -to epic poetry. On the contrary the singer must give utterance to the -ideas and views of lyrical art as though they were the expression of -his own soul, his own emotions. And inasmuch as it is this <i>innermost -world</i>, which the delivery has to animate, the expression of it will -above all lean to the musical features of poetical reproduction; -whether permitted as an embellishment or a necessity we shall here meet -with the varied modulation of the voice, either in recitation or song, -and the accompaniment of musical instruments.</p> - -<p>(<i>C</i>) Our <i>third</i> and final mode of poetical composition unites the -two previous ones in a new totality. In this we not only discover an -<i>objective</i> exposition, but also can trace its source in the ideal life -of particular people; what is objective here is therefore portrayed -as appertinent to the conscious life of individuals.<a name="FNanchor_7_87" id="FNanchor_7_87"></a><a href="#Footnote_7_87" class="fnanchor">[7]</a> To put the -case conversely, the conscious life of individuals is on the one hand -unfolded as it passes over into actual life experience, and on the -other as involved in the fatality of events, which brings about passion -in causal and necessary connection with the individual's own action. -We have here, therefore, as in Epic poetry, an action expanded to our -view in its conflicts and issues; spiritual forces come to expression -and battle; the element of contingency is everywhere involved, and -human activity is either brought into contact with the energy of -an omnipotent destiny, or a directive and world-ruling Providence. -Human action, however, does not here only pass before our vision in -the objective form of its actual occurrence, as an event of the Past -resuscitated by the narrative alone; on the contrary, it is made to -appear as actually realized in the particular volition, morality or -immorality of the specific characters depicted, which thereby become -central in the principle of <i>lyric</i> poetry. Add to this, however, that -such individuals are not merely disclosed in their inner experience -as such; they also declare themselves in the execution of passion -directed to <span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_105" id="Page_105">[Pg 105]</a></span>ends; whereby they offer a criterion—in the way that -epic poetry asserts what is substantive in its positive reality<a name="FNanchor_8_88" id="FNanchor_8_88"></a><a href="#Footnote_8_88" class="fnanchor">[8]</a> -for the evaluation of those passions and the aims which are directed -to the objective conditions and rational laws of the concrete world; -and it is, moreover, by this very test of the worth and conditions, -under which such individuals continue in their resolve to abide, that -their destiny is discovered by implication. This objective presence, -which proceeds from the personality itself, no less than this personal -experience,<a name="FNanchor_9_89" id="FNanchor_9_89"></a><a href="#Footnote_9_89" class="fnanchor">[9]</a> which is reproduced in its active realization and all -that declares its worth in the world, is Spirit in its own living -totality; it is this which, as <i>action</i>, supplies both form and content -to <i>dramatic poetry.</i></p> - -<p>Moreover, inasmuch as this concrete whole is itself no less essentially -conscious life than it is, under the aspect of its external -realization, also a self-manifestation, quite apart from all question -of local or other artistic means of realization, we are bound, in -respect to this representation of actual facts, to meet the claim of -genuine poetry that we should have the <i>entire personality</i> of the -individual envisaged; only as such the living man himself is actually -that which is expressed. For though, on the one hand, in the drama, as -in lyric poetry, a character ought to express the content of its own -soul-life as a veritable possession, yet, from another point of view, -it asserts itself, when, in its entire personality it is confronted -with other personalities, as effective in its practical existence, and -comes thereby into active contact with the world around it, by means -of which it attaches itself immediately to an active disposition,<a name="FNanchor_10_90" id="FNanchor_10_90"></a><a href="#Footnote_10_90" class="fnanchor">[10]</a> -which, quite as truly as articulate speech, is an expression of the -soul-life, and requires its artistic treatment. Already we find in -lyrical poetry some close approach to the apportionment of various -emotions among different individual speakers, and the distribution of -its subject-matter in acts or scenes.</p> - -<p>In the drama, then, subjective emotion passes on likewise to the -expression of action; and, by so doing, renders necessary the -manifestation to our senses of the play of gesture which concentrates -the universality of language in a closer relation with the expression -of personality,<a name="FNanchor_11_91" id="FNanchor_11_91"></a><a href="#Footnote_11_91" class="fnanchor">[11]</a> and by means of position, demeanour, gesticulation -and other ways is individualized and completed. If, however, this -aspect of deportment is carried forward by artistic means to a degree -of expression, that it can dispense with speech, we have the art of -pantomime, which resolves the rhythmical movement of poetry in a -harmonious and picturesque motion of limbs, and in this, so to speak, -plastic music of bodily position and movement gives animated life in -the dance to the tranquil and cold figures of sculpture, that it may -essentially unite by such means music and the plastic art.</p> - -<hr class="r5" /> -<div class="footnote"> - -<p><a name="Footnote_1_81" id="Footnote_1_81"></a><a href="#FNanchor_1_81"><span class="label">[1]</span></a> <i>Gleichgültige</i>, that is, the impressions of sense are -received from without, from a manifold indifferent to ourselves.</p></div> - -<div class="footnote"> - -<p><a name="Footnote_2_82" id="Footnote_2_82"></a><a href="#FNanchor_2_82"><span class="label">[2]</span></a> <i>Losheit.</i> A word coined by Hegel to denote this relation -of poetry to external objects in their independence.</p></div> - -<div class="footnote"> - -<p><a name="Footnote_3_83" id="Footnote_3_83"></a><a href="#FNanchor_3_83"><span class="label">[3]</span></a> <i>Die Gebehrden</i>, lit., gestures, in which sense it is used -in a subsequent passage.</p></div> - -<div class="footnote"> - -<p><a name="Footnote_4_84" id="Footnote_4_84"></a><a href="#FNanchor_4_84"><span class="label">[4]</span></a> We should rather have expected "the material of plastic -art." The contrast is rather between the nature of the medium in each -case than the finished product. So far as the latter is concerned -the musical composition is as dependent, even more dependent for its -presentment on human activity as poetical composition.</p></div> - -<div class="footnote"> - -<p><a name="Footnote_5_85" id="Footnote_5_85"></a><a href="#FNanchor_5_85"><span class="label">[5]</span></a> <i>Des Klingens unseres Gewohnheit.</i> It is not quite clear -what the meaning is here. The meaning may be as in the interpretation -above. But it is rather difficult to see how, so far as mere print -goes, we can be conscious of actual sound at all, unless it is -intended here to include at least the act of reading; an alternative -interpretation would be the "habitual verbal accent," but we should -in that case have rather expected the substantive <i>Nachdrucks</i> for -<i>Klingens.</i></p></div> - -<div class="footnote"> - -<p><a name="Footnote_6_86" id="Footnote_6_86"></a><a href="#FNanchor_6_86"><span class="label">[6]</span></a> Hegel means of course that as that notion stands midway -between the objectivity of sense-perception and the concept of thought, -so too this classification will be based on the attitude of the art -either to the personal life, or the objects of sense, as the one aspect -is more strongly represented or the other.</p> -</div> - -<div class="footnote"> - -<p><a name="Footnote_7_87" id="Footnote_7_87"></a><a href="#FNanchor_7_87"><span class="label">[7]</span></a> <i>Dem Subject.</i> That is, I understand, the individual -subject generally, not merely the conscious life of the poet or the -singer.</p></div> - -<div class="footnote"> - -<p><a name="Footnote_8_88" id="Footnote_8_88"></a><a href="#FNanchor_8_88"><span class="label">[8]</span></a> <i>In seiner Gediegenheit</i>, <i>i.e.,</i> as concrete.</p></div> - -<div class="footnote"> - -<p><a name="Footnote_9_89" id="Footnote_9_89"></a><a href="#FNanchor_9_89"><span class="label">[9]</span></a> <i>Dies Subjektive.</i> The realization of self in the world is -part of that world regarded as a rational and self-conscious process, -Spirit.</p></div> - -<div class="footnote"> - -<p><a name="Footnote_10_90" id="Footnote_10_90"></a><a href="#FNanchor_10_90"><span class="label">[10]</span></a> <i>Sich die Gebehrde anschliesst</i>, <i>i.e.</i> a practical -attitude to the world, involving gesture and other actions.</p></div> - -<div class="footnote"> - -<p><a name="Footnote_11_91" id="Footnote_11_91"></a><a href="#FNanchor_11_91"><span class="label">[11]</span></a> Hegel's expression is "the personality of expression," -<i>i.e.,</i> the personal aspect of expression.</p></div> - - - -<hr class="chap" /> -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_106" id="Page_106">[Pg 106]</a></span></p> -<h3><a name="A_EPIC_POETRY" id="A_EPIC_POETRY">A. EPIC POETRY</a></h3> - - -<p>The Epos, word, saga, states simply what the fact is which is -translated into the word. It acquires an essentially self-consistent -content in order to express the fact <i>that it is</i> and how it is. What -we have here brought before consciousness is the object regarded as -object in its relations and circumstances, in their full compass and -development, the object, in short, in its determinate existence.</p> - -<p>We propose to treat our subject-matter as follows:</p> - -<p><i>First</i>, we shall attempt to describe the <i>general</i> character of what -is Epical:</p> - -<p><i>Secondly</i>, we shall proceed to some <i>particular</i> features, which in -respect to the real Epos are of exceptional importance:</p> - -<p><i>Thirdly</i>, we shall enumerate by name certain <i>specific</i> methods -of treatment, which have been actually in use in particular epic -compositions within the historical elaboration of the type.</p> - - -<h5><a name="I_THE_GENERAL_CHARACTERISTICS_OF_THE_EPIC_TYPE" id="I_THE_GENERAL_CHARACTERISTICS_OF_THE_EPIC_TYPE">1. THE GENERAL CHARACTERISTICS OF THE EPIC TYPE</a></h5> - - -<p>(<i>a</i>) The most simple, but nevertheless in its abstract concentration, -still one-sided and incomplete mode of epic exposition consists in the -assertion of that which is essentially fundamental and necessary among -the facts of the concrete<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_107" id="Page_107">[Pg 107]</a></span> world and the wealth of mutable phenomena, -and in the expression of such on their own account, as focussed in epic -phraseology.</p> - -<p>(<i>α</i>) We may begin our consideration of the type with the <i>epigram</i> -i, in so far as it really remains an epigram, that is an inscription -on columns, effects, monuments, gifts and so forth, and at the same -time points with an ideal finger to something else, and by doing so -explains through words, inscribed on an object, somewhat otherwise -plastic, local, something present outside the words expressed. In -such an example the epigram states simply what a definite fact is. -The individual does not as yet express his concrete self; he attaches -a concise interpretation to the object, the locality, which he has -immediate perception of and which claims his interested attention, an -interpretation which goes to the heart of the fact in question.</p> - -<p>(<i>β</i>) A yet further advance may be discovered in the case where the -twofold aspect of the object in its external reality and the fact of -inscription disappears, in so far, that is, as poetry, without any -actual representation on the object, expresses its idea of the fact. To -this class belong the gnomes of the ancients, ethical sayings, which -concentrate in concise language that which is more forceable than -material objects, more permanent and universal than the monument of -some definite action, more perdurable than votive offerings, columns, -and temples. Such are duties in human existence, the wisdom of life, -the vision of that which constitutes in action and knowledge the firm -foundations and stable bonds for human kind. The epic character of -such modes of conception consists in this, that such maxims do not -declare themselves as exclusively personal emotion and reflection, and -also, in the matter of their impression, are quite as little directed -with the object even of affecting our emotions, but rather with the -purpose to emphasize what is of sterling validity, whether as the -object of human obligation or the sense of honour and propriety. The -ancient Greek elegiacs have in some measure this epic tone. We have -still extant a few verses of Solon of this kind, though the transition -here into a hortatory tone and style is easily made. Such include -exhortations or warnings with reference to the common social life, -its laws and morality. We may also mention the gold<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_108" id="Page_108">[Pg 108]</a></span> sayings, which -tradition ascribes to Pythagoras. Yet all such are of a hybrid nature, -and referable to this, that though in general we may associate with -them the tone of our distinct type, yet, owing to the incompleteness of -the object, it is not fully realized, but rather there is a distinct -tendency to involve with it that of another poetical type, in the -present case the lyrical.</p> - -<p>(<i>γ</i>) Such dicta may, however, <i>thirdly</i>, as already suggested, by -being divested of this fragmentary and self-exclusive isolation, go to -form a larger whole, be rounded off, that is, in a totality, which is -altogether of the <i>Epic</i> type; we have here neither a purely lyrical -frame of mind nor a dramatic action, but a specific and veritable -sphere of the living world whose essential nature, as emphasized in -its general characteristics, no less than as situated to particular -aspects, points of view, occurrences or obligations, supplies us with -an integrating unity and a genuine focal centre. In complete agreement -with this type of epical content, which displays what is of permanent -and universal import along with, as a rule, a distinct ethical purpose -of admonishment, instruction or exhortation to an, in all essentials, -ethically stable life, compositions of this kind receive a <i>didactic</i> -flavour. Nevertheless, by reason of the novelty of their wise sayings, -the freshness of their general outlook and the ingenuousness of their -observation we must keep them quite distinct from more recent didactic -poetry. They wholly justify, inasmuch as they give the necessary -play to matter entirely descriptive, the conclusion that these two -aspects taken together, instruction and description, are directly -deduced as the substantive summary of facts which have been throughout -experienced. As an obvious illustration I will merely mention the -"Works and Days" of Hesiod, the teaching and descriptive power of -which, in its primitive style and as a poetical composition, exercises -a fascination upon us wholly different from the pleasure we experience -in the colder elegance, the scientific or systematic conclusions of -Virgil's poems on agriculture.</p> - -<p>(<i>b</i>) The above described modes of epigram, gnome, and didactive -poem accept their <i>specific</i> provinces of Nature or human life as -their subject-matter, while endeavouring to fix attention in concise -language, with more or less limitation<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_109" id="Page_109">[Pg 109]</a></span> of survey, on that which is of -permanent worth and essential truth in this or that object, condition, -or activity; and even under the still more restricted condition -which the art of poetry imposes on such a task the practical result -upon human effort is still maintained. There is, however, a further -or <i>second</i> type of such compositions, which is, on the one hand, -profounder in its penetration, and, on the other, lays less stress -on instruction and reform. Such are the cosmogonies and theogonies, -no less than those most ancient works of philosophy, which are still -unable entirely to liberate themselves from the poetical form.</p> - -<p>(<i>α</i>) In this way the exposition of the Eleatic philosophy in the -poems of Xenophanes and Parmenides still remains poetic in form; and -this is exceptionally so in the introduction prefaced by the latter -to his work. The content is here the One, which, in its contrast -to the Becoming or the already Become, all particular phenomena in -short, is eternal and imperishable. No particularity is permitted -to bring content to the human spirit, which strives after truth, -and, in the first instance, is cognizant of the same in its most -abstract unity and concreteness. Expatiating in the greatness of this -object, and wrestling with the might of the same, the impulse of -soul inclines instinctively to the lyrical expression, although the -entire explication of the truths into which the writer's thought here -penetrates carries on its face a wholly practical and thereby epic -character.</p> - -<p>(<i>β</i>) It is, <i>secondly</i>, the <i>becoming</i> of objective things, in -particular natural objects, the press and conflict of activities -operative in Nature, which supplies the matter of the cosmogonies, -and impels the poetic imagination to disclose in the still more -concrete and opulent mode of actions and events real eventuality. And -the way this faculty does this is by clothing the forces of Nature -in relatively more or less personified or figurative images placed -in distinct stages, and through the symbolical form of human events -and actions. Such a type of epic content and exposition pre-eminently -belongs to Oriental Nature-religions; and above all among them the -poetry of India is to an excessive degree prolific in the invention and -portrayal of such modes of conception, frequently of an unbridled and -extravagant type, concerning the origin of the world and the powers -that are active<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_110" id="Page_110">[Pg 110]</a></span> therein.</p> - -<p>(<i>γ</i>) We find, <i>thirdly</i>, similar characteristics in theogonies. Such -occupy their true position mainly in so far as, on the one hand, the -many particular gods are not suffered exclusively to possess the life -of Nature as the more essential content of their power and creation, -nor, conversely, is it one god that creates the world out of thought -and spirit, and who, in the jealous mood of monotheism, will tolerate -no other gods beside himself. This fair mean is alone exemplified in -the religious outlook of the Greeks. It discovers an imperishable -subject-matter for theogony-building in the forceful emancipation of -the family of Zeus from the lawlessness of primitive natural forces, -no less than in the conflict waged against them. It is a process and -a strife which we may indeed affirm gives us the historical origins -of the immortal gods of poetry itself. The famous example of such an -epic mode of conception we possess in the theogony known to us under -the name of Hesiod. In this composition the entire course of event is -throughout wedded to the form of human occurrences; it becomes less and -less symbolical just to the extent that the gods, who are summoned to -a spiritual dominion, are themselves liberated through an intelligent -and ethical individuality adequate to their essential nature, and -consequently are rightfully claimed and depicted as acting like -human beings. What is, however, still absent from this type of Epic -composition is, in the first place, a genuinely complete <i>result</i><a name="FNanchor_1_92" id="FNanchor_1_92"></a><a href="#Footnote_1_92" class="fnanchor">[1]</a> -as poetry. The acts and events, which are within the scope of the -survey of such poems, are no doubt an essentially necessary succession -of occurrence, but they are not an individual action which issues as -from a centre, wherein it discovers its unity and independence. From -a further point of view the content of such poetry does not, and in -virtue of its character cannot, present to us an essentially <i>complete -whole</i>. It does, and for the above reason must, exclude the real -activities of mankind, which are indispensable as the truly concrete -material for the active display of the Divine forces. Epic poetry, -therefore, is bound to free itself from such defects, if it is to -receive its most perfect expression.</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_111" id="Page_111">[Pg 111]</a></span></p> - -<p>(<i>c</i>) This actually does take place in that sphere which we may -designate the true <i>Epopœa.</i></p> - -<p>In the types hitherto discussed, which as a rule are wholly passed -over, what we call the epic tone is unmistakably present, but the -content is not as yet poetical in the concrete sense. Particular -ethical maxims and philosophemata still persist as part of the -material. What is, however, poetical in the full sense is concrete -ideality in individual guise; and the epos, inasmuch as it makes what -actually exists its object, accepts as such the happening of a definite -action, which, in the full compass of its circumstances and relations -must be brought with clarity to our vision as an event enriched by its -further association with the organically complete world of a nation -and an age. It follows from this that the collective world-outlook -and objective presence of a national spirit, displayed as an actual -event in the form of its self-manifestation, constitutes, and nothing -short of this does so, the content and form of the true epic poem. As -one aspect of such a totality we have the religious consciousness in -every degree of profundity attained by the human spirit; it furthermore -embraces the particular concrete life, whether political or domestic, -not excluding all the detail of external existence, and the means by -which human necessities are satisfied. All such material the epos makes -of vital account as a growth in close contact with individuals; and -for this reason, that for poetry the universal and substantive is only -realized in the living presence of spirit life.</p> - -<p>Such a comprehensive world, together with the human characterization -it embraces, must then pass before us as real in a tranquil stream, -without any undue haste, either as positive history or dramatic action, -towards its aim and conclusion. We must thereby be permitted to linger -round isolated facts, to penetrate into the different pictures of its -movement and to enjoy them in all their detail. And by this means -the entire panorama receives in its objective mode of realization -the form of an external series of events, the basis and limitations -of which must be implied in the essential ideality of the particular -epic content, and of which the positive assertion is alone absent. -If, consequently, the epic poem is, in its links of connection, more -diffuse,<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_112" id="Page_112">[Pg 112]</a></span> and, by virtue of the relatively greater independence of -portions of it, inclined to suffer from lack of coherency, we must not -allow ourselves the impression that it could ever have been actually -sung throughout in this manner. Rather it is an imperative in its case, -as in that of any other artistic production, that it should be finished -off in an essentially organic whole, which, however, moves forward in -apparent tranquillity, in order that the particular fact and the images -of actual life it contains may engage our interest.</p> - -<p>(<i>α</i>) Such a primitive whole is the epic composition, whether known as -the saga, the book, or the bible of a people. We may add every great -and important nation can claim to have such primitive books, in which -we find a mirror of the original spirit of a folk. To this extent -these memorials are nothing less than the real foundations of the -national consciousness; and it would be of profound interest to make a -collection of such epic bibles. Such a series of Epopees, however much -they fell short of artistic compositions in the modern sense, would at -least present to us a gallery of the genius of nations. At the same -time it is doubtless the fact that it is not every national bible which -can claim the poetic form of the epopœa; nor do all nations which have -embodied their most sacred memorials, whether in relation to religion -or secular life, in the form of comprehensive compositions of the -epic type, possess religious books. The Old Testament, for example, -contains no doubt much epic narrative and genuine history, no less than -incidental poetic compositions; but despite of this the whole is not -a work of art. In a similar way the New Testament, as also the Koran, -are mainly limited to a religious subject-matter, starting from which -the life of the world at large is to some extent and in later times a -consequence. Conversely, though the Hellenes have a poetic bible in -the poems of Homer, they are without ancient religious books in the -sense the Hindoos and the Parsees possess such. Where, however, we meet -with the primitive epopoea, we must essentially distinguish between -primitive poetic books and the more recent classic compositions of -a nation, which do not any longer offer us a mirror of the national -spirit in all its compass but do no more than reflect it partially -and in particular directions. The dramatic poetry of the Hindoos, for -example, or t<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_113" id="Page_113">[Pg 113]</a></span>he tragedies of Sophocles present no such exhaustive -picture as we find in the Ramajana and the Maha-Bharata, or the Iliad -and the Odyssey.</p> - -<p>(<i>β</i>) And insomuch as in the genuine Epos the naïve national -consciousness is expressed for the first time in poetic guise, the real -epic poem will appear for the most part in that midway stage in which, -though no doubt a people is aroused from its stupidity, and its life -is to that extent essentially strengthened to the point of reproducing -its own world and of feeling itself at home therein, yet, for all that, -everything which at a later stage becomes fixed religious dogma or -civic law and ethical rule, still remains in the fluency of life as -mere opinion, inseparable from the individual as such. And along with -this volition and feeling are not as yet held distinct from one another.</p> - -<p>(<i>αα</i>) It is only after the separation of the individual's personal -self from the concrete national whole, with its conditions, modes of -opinion, exploits and destiny; it is only, further, after the division -in man himself between his emotion and volition, that the lyric and -dramatic types of poetry in turn replace the epic type and attain their -richest development. This consummation is only reached in the later -life-experience of a people, in which the general lines laid down by -men for the due regulation of their affairs are no longer inseparable -from the sentiments and opinions of the nation as a whole, but already -have secured an independent structure as a co-ordinated system of -jurisprudence and law, as a prosaic disposition of positive facts, as -a political constitution, as a body of ethical or other precepts; and -being so, individuals are now confronted with material obligations -rather as a necessary force external to themselves than one which their -own inner life asserts, and which it compels them to substantiate as -its fulfilment. As opposed to such an already actual and independent -system, the individual life will seek in part to find expression in an -equally independent world and growth of personal vision, reflection -and emotion, which are not carried further into the sphere of action, -and will further give <i>lyrical</i> utterance to its selfabsorption, its -pre-occupation with the content of such a soul-experience.<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_114" id="Page_114">[Pg 114]</a></span> And, in -part also, it will make its active passion of main importance, and -will seek to assert itself independently in action, in so far as it -is able to divest external conditions, the event and its concomitants -of any claim to truly epic self-subsistency. It is just this increase -to the strength and stability of individual character and aims in -their relation to action which opens the way to <i>dramatic</i> poetry. To -return, however, to the epic, we repeat that it is the above-mentioned -unity of feeling and action which it demands, that unity between the -self-fulfilled object of the personal life and the external accident -and event; a unity which, as observed, is only present without blemish -as it first appears in the earliest periods of the national life or the -national poetry.</p> - -<p>(<i>ββ</i>) At the same time, we must not yield ourselves, therefore, to the -impression that a people in its heroical time simply as such, and as -the home of its epos, there and then was in possession of art, or could -necessarily depict its life in the mirror of poetry. As a matter of -fact, an essentially poetical nationality in its actual world-presence -is one thing; the art of poetry regarded as the imaginative -consciousness of poetical material, and the artistic presentment of -such a world is quite another. The felt want to express oneself <i>as -idea</i> in terms of the latter, the trained knowledge of art, are later -acquisitions than the life and spirit itself, which discovers itself in -all simplicity at home in its unreservedly poetical existence. Homer -and the poems under his name are centuries later than the Trojan war, -which is to myself quite as much an historical fact as the personality -of Homer. In the same way we may affirm of Ossian, always assuming that -the poems ascribed to him are really his, that he celebrates an heroic -past, the sunset splendour of which inspires him to recall and reclothe -the same in poetical form.</p> - -<p>(<i>γγ</i>) Despite, however, such a separation, some intimate bond of -association must exist between the poet and his subject-matter. The -poet must still stand on even terms with the conditions, the general -point of vision, the beliefs which he depicts. All he should find -it necessary to do is to attach to these the poetic consciousness -and the art capable of portraying them; in other respects they are -still essential factors in his own life. If such an affinity as that -above described is absent in our poet's epic creation, his poem<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_115" id="Page_115">[Pg 115]</a></span> must -infallibly contain disparate and irreconcilable features. For both -these aspects—namely, the content, the epic world, which it is the -intention to portray, and the world of the poet's conscious life and -imagination, which is in other respects independent of the above—are -of spiritual derivation; they each of them possess intrinsically a -definite principle, in which particular traits of characterization are -involved. If, then, the personal life of the artist is essentially -of a different order to that by virtue of which the historical and -national life depicted came into actual being, we must necessarily -become conscious of a cleft in the artistic result which will disturb -and injure its effect. We shall have, in short, scenes placed before -us of a previous condition of history, combined with modes of -thought, opinions, and views more pertinent to other periods; and, in -consequence of this, the configuration of primitive beliefs will, in -its contact with the more developed reflection of a later time, lose -the warmth of conviction, become, in short, a mere superstition, an -empty embellishment of the mere poetical instrumentation, from which -all the vitality of its actual life has vanished.</p> - -<p>(<i>γ</i>) And this brings us to the general question what position the poet -himself of genuine epic poetry really ought to take up.</p> - -<p>(<i>αα</i>) Now, however much the Epos ought also to be positive in the -sense that it is the objective presentment of a world based upon its -own foundations, and realized in virtue of its own necessary laws, -a world, moreover, with which the personal outlook of the poet must -remain in a connection that enables him to identify himself wholly -with it; yet it is equally true that his artistic product, which -reproduces this world, is throughout the <i>free creation</i> of himself. -In this connection we shall do well to recall that fine expression of -Herodotus: "Homer and Hesiod have created the gods of the Hellenic -race." And, in truth, this free and audacious spirit of creation, -which Herodotus attaches to the abovementioned poets, already is -some testimony to the fact that although the Epopœa belongs to the -early age of a nation, it is not its function to depict the most -primitive condition of all. In other words, every nation possesses -in its earliest origins more or less an alien culture of some kind, -i<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_116" id="Page_116">[Pg 116]</a></span>s confronted with a religious cult of foreign importation to which -it submits, or which it regards as sacrosanct. And, indeed, we find -that the minstrelsy, the superstition, the barbarous elements in -human life, no less than the most exalted have their source just in -this, that instead of being entirely at home with themselves, they -are experienced as something aloof from themselves, that is not the -natural product of their own national and individual consciousness. -In this way, for example, the Hindoos must certainly, long before -the date of their great Epopees, have experienced many an important -revolution of religious beliefs and secular condition. The Greeks no -less, as previously remarked, had to transform much material of an -Egyptian, Phrygian, and Asiatic descent. The Romans, in their turn, -were confronted with much of a Greek origin; and the barbarians, in -the period of national invasion, with Christian or Roman antecedents, -and so on. Not until the poet is able with a free hand to cast from -him such a yoke, is able to take stock of what he really possesses, -is conscious of his own worth, and we are thereby released from all -perturbed state of mental vision, will the dawn break of a genuine -epic creation. In contrast to such an outlook we have the age and the -society modified by a cult abstract in its origin, with its elaborate -dogmas, established political and moral maxims, all of which take us -away from the concrete life at home with itself. The world of the truly -epic poet maintains its opposition to such conditions. Not merely in -respect to universal forces, passions, and aims which are operative -in the soul-life of individuals, but also in such a poet's attitude -to all external facts, be his creation never so independent, he is -entirely as one in his own province. In just this way Homer is at home -in all that he sings to us of his world, and where we are conscious -of such intimacy in another we are infected with a like feeling, for -we are here face to face with truth, with that spirit which lives in -its world, and discovers therein its true being; and it does us good -to feel this, inasmuch as the poet is himself present therein heart -and soul. Such a world may, indeed, belong to a less advanced stage -of evolution and culture than our own; but at least it does remain -faithful to that of a poetry and beauty which is open to all, so -that we essentially recognize and understand here everything which -our higher life, our humanity in its fundamental<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_117" id="Page_117">[Pg 117]</a></span> demands, whether -it be the honour, the opinions, the emotions, the exhortation, or -the exploits of each and every hero; and we are able to enjoy such -characters, in all the detail of their portraiture, as themselves -united to such a life and the richness of its actual presence.</p> - -<p>(<i>ββ</i>) But on account of the emphasis upon the objective independence -of this whole, it is a further necessary contrast that the poet fall -into the background and become lost in his <i>subject</i>. What is to -appear is the creation, not the poet; and yet withal, that which the -poem expresses belongs to him. He has imagined all in his mind's eye; -he has implanted there his soul, his genius. All this, however, is -not expressly asserted. So we find, for instance, that at one time a -Calchas will give the outline of events; at another, a Nestor. Yet, for -all that, such interpretative matter is the gift of the poet himself. -Nay, actual changes in the soul-life of his heroes he explains in -objective fashion as an entrance of gods upon the scene, as in the -case where Athene appears before Achilles in his rage, counselling -self-restraint. And inasmuch as the Epos does not disclose the -soul-life of the creator, save indirectly, but the positive facts of -external life, the subjective aspect of his creations must completely -fall into the background, no less than the creator himself vanish -behind the world he unfolds to our vision. From this point of view a -great epic style makes the work appear to be itself its own minstrel. -It seems to pass before us self-begotten, a work of independent birth.</p> - -<p>(<i>γγ</i>) Moreover, the epic poem, if a true work of art, is the exclusive -creation of <i>one</i> artist. However much an epic may express the affairs -of the entire nation, it remains the fact that it is the individual -who is the poet, not the nation as a whole. The spirit of an age, of -a people, is no doubt the essential operative cause; but realization -is only secured in the work of art as conceived by the constructive -genius of a <i>particular</i> poet, who brings before our vision and -reproduces this universal spirit and its content as his own experience -and his own product. Poetical composition is a real spiritual birth, -and spirit or intelligence only exist as this or that<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_118" id="Page_118">[Pg 118]</a></span> actual and -individual conscious and self-conscious life. When we have already an -artistic creation in a particular style,<a name="FNanchor_2_93" id="FNanchor_2_93"></a><a href="#Footnote_2_93" class="fnanchor">[2]</a> we have no doubt something -to start from; and others are then able to copy with more or less -success something like it, just as we have to listen nowadays to some -scores of poems written in the Goethesque manner. To continue to -sing many compositions in the same kind of key, however, will never -create the unified creation, which is throughout the work of <i>one</i> -inspiring genius. This is a point of real importance not only in our -attitude to the Homeric poems, but also the Niebelungen Lied. For the -last-mentioned work we are unable to determine an author with any -historical certainty; and as for the Iliad and Odyssey, the opinion -of some critics is notorious that the Homer of tradition—that is, -the sole author of these books—never existed at all. They are the -production in different parts of various authors, parts which have -finally been patched together in the two larger works we possess. With -regard to such a theory the question of most importance is whether -either or both of these extant works constitute an independent organic -whole in the epic sense, or, as is the view fashionable nowadays, -they possess no inevitable beginning or conclusion, but rather might -be continued on present lines for ever. We may, of course, admit that -the unity of the Homeric poems is, as part of their essential form, -less compact than that we associate with the terse concentration of a -dramatic work. Inasmuch as every separate portion may be and may appear -as relatively independent, they give free play to many interpolations -and abrupt transitions; but, despite of this, they do unquestionably -constitute throughout a true, ideally organic, and epic totality. Such -a whole can only be the composition of <i>one</i> author. This notion of -a conglomerate without essential unity, of a mere patching together -of various rhapsodies composed in a similar strain, is a wild sort of -idea opposed to all artistic canons. Of course, if such a view merely -amounts to this, that the poet, in his bare individuality, vanishes -in his creation, it is the highest form of praise. This is merely a -statement that we are unable to recognize any positive traces of wholly -personal opinions and feeling. So much is certainly true of the Homeric -poems. What we have before us, and we have only this, is the positive -fact, the objective outlook of a people. But the song of a people -requires a voice, a voice which can sing forth the contents of heart -and soul, as harvested from the national granary; and an essentially -self-integrated work of art calls for yet<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_119" id="Page_119">[Pg 119]</a></span> more than this from the -<i>unique</i> genius of its creator.</p> - - -<h5>2. PARTICULAR CHARACTERISTICS OF THE GENUINE EPOS</h5> - -<p>We have previously in our consideration of the general character of -epic poetry briefly drawn attention to certain incomplete types, which, -although of an epical strain, are not epopees in their completeness. -They, in short, neither represent a national condition, nor a concrete -event, within the boundaries of such a sphere. It is these latter -features, which were then excluded, which offer us for the first time -a content wholly equal to the perfected Epos, whose fundamental traits -and conditions are thus stated.</p> - -<p>Having recalled these points it becomes necessary now to investigate -more closely what it is we require by way of completing our notion -of the epic work of art. We are, however, on the threshold of this -enquiry confronted with the difficulty that we have little or nothing -to say on features of specific interest, if we confine our attention -to generalities; Ave must rivet our attention on historical evidence, -and those varied epic and national compositions, works which on account -of the extraordinary diversity of the times and peoples to which they -refer do not make us very hopeful of securing either a definite or a -congruous result. We find, however, some compensation in the fact, that -from among all the many epic bibles of the past we can place our finger -on one at least, in which we have the clearest evidence of all which it -is possible to establish as the true and fundamental character of the -genuine epos. Such are the Homeric poems. These, then, above all, will -be the source from which I shall borrow the characteristics, which, -in my view, essentially determine the nature of such poetry, whether -from the point of view of fact or theory. We propose to summarize our -enquiry under the following heads:</p> - -<p><i>First</i>, we have to deal with the question, of what structure <i>the -general</i> world condition ought to be, on the basis of which the epic -event is permitted to receive an adequate reproduction.</p> - -<p><i>Secondly,</i> we shall investigate the quality of th<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_120" id="Page_120">[Pg 120]</a></span>is specific type of -historical event itself.</p> - -<p><i>Lastly</i>, we shall direct attention to the form in which these two -aspects of our subject-matter coalesce and are completed in the unity -of a single work of art, that is, in the epic poem.</p> - -<p>(<i>a</i>) <i>The General World-condition of the Epic Poem</i></p> - -<p>We have already, when Ave started on this subject, seen that it is not -a single isolated action which is accomplished in the true epic event; -the subject of the narrative is not, in short, a wholly accidental -occurrence, but an action which is dove-tailed into the entire -complexus of a particular age and national circumstances, which in -consequence can only be placed before us with success as a constituent -part of an extensive world, demanding as it does the reflection of such -a world in its entirety. In respect to the actual poetical content of -this background I shall be brief, inasmuch as I have already indicated -the fundamental points of interest when, in the first part of this -work, I discussed the general world-condition which the ideal action -presupposed. In the present context therefore I shall restrict myself -to the question what is of most importance to the Epos simply.</p> - -<p>(<i>α</i>) That which is most adapted, as the all-embracing condition of -human society, to form the background of the Epos consists in this, -that it already possesses for particular individuals the form of a -positive condition actually present, and yet continues with them in -closest association with the simplicity of primitive life. For if the -heroes who are placed as the crowning fact of all, are first to found a -collective condition the determination of what is or ought to come into -existence falls into the more personal sphere of character to a greater -extent than is compatible with the nature of the Epos, and therewith -all appearance of the same as objective reality is impossible.</p> - -<p>(<i>αα</i>) The relations of ethical life, the aggregate of the family, of -the people regarded as a complete nation, not merely with a view to -war, but also in their peaceful security, must have become a positive -fact in their evolution;<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_121" id="Page_121">[Pg 121]</a></span> yet along with this their organization cannot -as yet have assumed the settled form of co-ordinate regulations, -obligations, and laws independent in their validity of the direct -personal and private activities of individuals, and possessive of the -power to maintain themselves against such particular wills. Rather it -is the <i>intuitive sense</i> of right and fairness, the moral habit, the -temperament, the personality, which supply the support, as they are -the source, of such a social order; we have, in short, no theoretic -intelligence in its precipitated form of prosaic reality able to -establish and secure such a resistance to the heart, the opinions and -passions of individuals. We may dismiss the thought that a community -with a fully organized constitution and an elaborate system of law, -judicial courts, government officials and police, would supply the -environment of a really epic action.<a name="FNanchor_3_94" id="FNanchor_3_94"></a><a href="#Footnote_3_94" class="fnanchor">[3]</a> The conditions of positive -morality must, no doubt, be present in the general will and conduct, -but the instruments of its realization can only be the action and -personality of individuals, and a determinate mode of its existence, of -universal application and independent stability, is necessarily absent. -We find, in short, in the Epos no doubt the substantive reciprocity -of objective life and action, but we find no less a freedom in this -world of life and action, which has all the appearance of originating -exclusively from the isolated volition of individuals.</p> - -<p>(<i>ββ</i>) The same considerations apply to the relation of the individual -to the <i>natural</i> environment, from which he borrows the means to -<i>satisfy</i> his wants, no less than discovers the best way to do so. -In this respect, too, I would refer the reader back to what I have -observed at greater length, when discussing the external definition of -the Ideal.</p> - -<p>What mankind requires in its external life, house and farm, tent, -settle, bed, sword, lance, the ship, in which he crosses the sea, the -chariot, which bears him into battle, his soup, his roast of meat, and -drink—not one of these things need perforce become to him a lifeless -instrument; he ought still to communicate to the same something of his -entire life and substance, his essential self, and the<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_122" id="Page_122">[Pg 122]</a></span>reby leave the -stamp of his own human individuality, by his active association on that -which is otherwise wholly external. Our present life with its machinery -and factory-made products, no less than the kind of way we seek to -satisfy generally the needs of our external life, is in this respect -quite as much as that of our political organization, wholly unfit to -form the background which the Epos in its primitive guise demands. For -just as the scientific faculty with its generalizations, its imperious -conclusions, delivered independently of all personal views, can never -have asserted its claim under the world-condition of the poetic type -we are considering, so, too, we may assume that man did not yet appear -divested of his vital connection with Nature, and the fresh and -vigorous comradeship, whether as friends or opponents, which is therein -implied.</p> - -<p>(<i>γγ</i>) Such is the world-condition which, in a previous passage, and -in contrast to the idyllic, I have called the <i>heroic.</i> We find it -depicted in Homer with the noblest poetry, and with all the wealth -of entirely human characterization. We have no more here, whether in -domestic or public life, a barbarous state of things, than we have -the wholly conventional prose of a regulated family and political -organization; what we do find is that primitive mean of poetry much -as I have already described it. A fundamental feature in such a -condition is unquestionably the free individuality of all the principal -personages. In the Iliad, for example, Agamemnon is, no doubt, a -king of kings—all other chieftains are subject to his sceptre—but -his superiority is no merely formal mutual relation of command and -submission of the lord, that is, to his vassals. On the contrary, -much circumspection is required of him; he must be shrewd enough -to know where he ought to give way, for each particular chieftain -is independent even as himself; they are not merely governors or -generals summoned by him. They have assembled around him of their -own free will, or are induced to follow his lead in a variety of -ways. He must take counsel with them; and if they disagree with his -judgment they are at liberty, as Achilles did, to remain aloof from -the battle. It is this freedom of acceptance, no less than this free -right to assert disapproval, which secures the absolute independence -of such individuality, and attache<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_123" id="Page_123">[Pg 123]</a></span>s its poetical atmosphere to every -situation. We find much the same thing in the poetry of Ossian, as also -in the relation of the Cid to the princes, whom this poetical hero of -romantic and national chivalry serves as vassal. In Ariosto and Tasso -this free relation is still unimpaired; and indeed in Ariosto the -individual heroes set forth in practically unqualified independence on -their own path of adventure. And the mass of the folk stand in much the -same relation to their leaders as that of the separate chieftains to -Agamemnon. These too follow voluntarily. There is still no paramount -legal obligation by which they are constrained. Honour, reverence, -humility in the presence of men more mighty than themselves, ever able -to enforce that might, the imposing presence of the heroic character -in short and all it implies, such are the essential grounds of their -obedience. The order of domestic life is maintained in a similar way. -It is not enforced as an accepted rule of service, but as dependent -on personal inclination or ethical habit. All is made to appear as -though it had grown up spontaneously. Homer, for example, tells us of -the Greeks, when narrating one of their battles with the Trojans, that -they had lost many valiant fighters, but not so many as the Trojans; -and the reason given is that they were always mindful to ward off from -one another the extreme of necessity. In other words, they assisted -each other. And if we, in our own days, had occasion to define the -difference between a well-disciplined and an uncivilized army we -could not express it more directly than by laying stress on this very -coherence and spirit of cameraderie, this unity enforced by all in -a felt association, which distinguished the former. Barbarians are -simply human mobs, in which no individual can rely on his neighbour. -What, however, in our modern example, being as it is the final result -of a stringent and tedious military discipline, rather appears as the -exercise and command of an established regime, in Homer's case is still -an ethical habit asserted of its own accord, springing from the vital -strength of the individual in his private capacity.</p> - -<p>We may explain in a similar way Homer's great variety in his -descriptions of Nature and external condition. In the prose romances of -our own day we do not find much<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_124" id="Page_124">[Pg 124]</a></span> stress laid on the natural aspects of -things. Homer, on the contrary, gives us every detail in his portrayal -of a staff, sceptre, bedstead, armour, clothing, doorpost; he does -not even omit to mention the hinges on which the door turns. Such -things appear to us wholly outside our attention and insignificant; or -rather we may say that it is the tendency of our education to affect -an extremely severe superiority to a whole number of objects, matters, -and expressions, and we deliberately classify in their claim to our -notice such things as various kinds of dress, furniture, implements, -and so on. Add to this the fact that in our day all the means supplied -or prepared for the satisfaction of our wants are so split up into -every kind of machinery product from work-shop and factory, we come -to regard the medley of supply as something beneath us, neither -deserving enumeration or respectful attention. The heroic existence -is, on the contrary, confronted with a primitive simplicity of objects -and inventions; it readily lingers on their description. All these -possessions are, in short, regarded as of one standard of value, as -chattels or instruments in which man still discovers evidence of his -craftsmanship, his positive wealth and interest whereof he may be -justly proud. His entire life is not abstracted from such material -things, nor exclusively occupied with a purely intellectual sphere. -To slaughter oxen and prepare their flesh for the table, to pour out -wine and things of that sort are part of the heroic life, carried out -with purpose and delight; with us a meal, if it is not to be a very -commonplace affair, must not merely carry with it something of the -culinary art, but is incomplete without really good conversation. -Homer's detailed descriptions in these matters must not therefore be -looked upon as a purely poetical embellishment of things of little -moment; such a copious attention is nothing more or less than the -actual spirit of the men and circumstances depicted. We find just the -same prolixity of speech on external things in the case of our own -peasants; and for that matter do not the dandies of our own day dilate -without limit upon their stables, horses, top-boots, spurs, pants, and -the like. In contrast to a life of profounder intellectual interest -such things will doubtless appear somewhat jejune.</p> - -<p>Such a world ought not merely to embrace the <i>limite<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_125" id="Page_125">[Pg 125]</a></span>d</i> universality -of the particular event, which occurs on the <i>definite</i> background -presupposed; it must coalesce in its expansion with the <i>entire -horizon</i> of the national vision. We have a supremely fine example of -this in the Odyssey, which not only brings us into contact with the -domestic life of the Greek chieftains, their servants and subordinates, -but also unfolds the richest variety with its tales of the many -opinions of foreign peoples, the hazards of sea-life, the dwellings -of distant lands, and so forth. But in the Iliad also, though the -nature of its subject restricts to some extent the horizon of our -vision, and not unnaturally on its battle-fields has comparatively -little to tell us of more tranquil scenes, Homer, at least, has on the -shield of Achilles managed in a wonderful way to give us a view of -the entire compass of terrestrial existence, no less than human life, -in marriages, judicial affairs, agriculture, the might of armies, the -private wars of cities, and much else. And these descriptions we 'shall -do well not to regard as a wholly incidental feature of the poem. In -contrast to such a treatment the poems we identify with the name of -Ossian introduce us to a world that is too limited and indefinite. It -has for this very reason rather a lyrical character; and as for Dante -we may say that his angels and devils inhabit no truly positive world -open to our detailed approach; it exists solely as instrumental to -the final fruition or due punishment of mankind. And above all in the -Nibelungenlied the absence is complete of any definite realization of -a visible world or environment, so that the narrative tends in this -respect to assume the strain or tone of the mere balladsinger. The -narrative is, no doubt, diffusive enough; but it is all much as if -some journeyman had picked it up first as gossip, and then retailed -it as such afterwards. We are not brought to close quarters with the -facts, but are merely made aware of the impotence and tedious effort -of the poet. This wearisome expanse of poetical debility becomes of -course even more pronounced in the Book of Heroes, until finally the -whole business is handed over to the true poetical journeyman, in other -words, the Master singers.</p> - -<p>(<i>β</i>) Furthermore, for the reason that the Epos has to embody in art a -specific world, in all its separate characteristics carefully defined, -one, in short, for this reason itself essentially individual, the -mirror of such a world must be that of a one <i>particular</i> people.</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_126" id="Page_126">[Pg 126]</a></span></p> - -<p>(<i>αα</i>) In this respect all truly primitive Epopees present to our view -a national spirit in the ethical structure of its family life, its -public dispositions in times of peace or war, its wants, arts, usages, -and interests—in a word, a picture of the relative type and stage -of the national consciousness. What the epic poem reveres more than -anything else, observes most narrowly, that which, as previously -noted, it expatiates upon, is the power to let our inward eye see as -in a mirror the individual genius of nations. We have presented us, -as the result of such a gallery, the world-history itself, and what -is more, we have it in its beautiful, free, and emphasized vitality, -manifestation, and deed. From no source, either so impregnate with life -or simplicity, can we, for example, better understand the Hellenic -spirit and Greek history, or at least grasp the principle of that -content, which this people embodied, and which it brought with it when -it first set forth to engage in the conflict of its wholly authentic -history, than from this of the poet Homer.</p> - -<p>(<i>ββ</i>) Now the national substance in its realization is of a <i>twofold</i> -nature. First, we have an entirely <i>positive</i> world of specialized -usage or custom peculiar to the nation in question, a definite period -of history, a definite environment, whether geographical in its -streams, hills and forests, or in its climatic situation. Secondly, -we have that ideal <i>substance</i> of its spiritual life, whether in -the religious sphere, the family or the community generally. If -thus an Epos of the primitive type is, under the conditions already -indicated, to be and remain a permanently effective bible, the -nation's Book, in that case that which is positive in the reality -of the Past can only claim such a continuously vital interest in so -far as the characteristic features accepted are placed in an ideal -connection with the actually substantive aspects and tendencies of the -national life. Otherwise what claims to be of positive value will be -entirely contingent and a matter of indifference. Native geographical -conditions, for instance, enter into the conception of nationality. But -if they do not confer on a folk its specific character, the addition of -other natural environment, provided that does not contradict national -character, is not in certain cases prejudicial to the effect, but may -even prove attractive to the imagination.<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_127" id="Page_127">[Pg 127]</a></span> No doubt the sensitive -experience of youth is interwoven with the immediate presence of its -native hills and streams; but where the deeper bonds of the entire -spiritual outlook are absent, such an association assumes a more or -less external character. And, apart from this, where we have, as in -the Iliad, a warlike expedition, it is impossible to preserve the -<i>locale</i> of the fatherland. In such a case the scenery of a foreign -land in itself fascinates and attracts. The enduring vitality of an -Epos is, however, more seriously impaired, where, in the course of -centuries, the spiritual consciousness and life has so entirely changed -that the links between the more recent Past and the original point of -departure already adverted to are completely severed. This is actually -the case with the poet Klopstock in another province of poetry, where -he attempts to establish a national religion, and, in order to do -so, gives us his Hermann and Thusnelda. We may affirm the same kind -of defect of the Nibelungenlied. The Burgundians, the revenge of -Chriemhilda, the exploits of Siegfried, the entire social condition, -the fated downfall of an entire race and many like facts—all this is -no longer vitally held together with the domestic, civil, and judicial -life, the institutions and constitutions of the present day. The -biography of Jesus Christ, with its Jerusalem, Bethlehem, and Roman -jurisdiction, even the Trojan war itself, come home to ourselves far -more nearly than the events of the Niebelungen; the latter are for -present consciousness a state of things wholly gone for ever, swept -away once and for all with a besom. To attempt to compose of such -something of national significance, to say nothing of a national bible, -betokens the extreme limit of folly and superficiality. In times when -it was rashly<a name="FNanchor_4_95" id="FNanchor_4_95"></a><a href="#Footnote_4_95" class="fnanchor">[4]</a> assumed that the flame of youthful enthusiasm had -flashed up anew, such a conceit was taken as a proof of the sere leaf -of an age once more become childlike in the approach of death; and it -refreshed itself with a past that was dead, and deemed it possible to -associate others with a similar<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_128" id="Page_128">[Pg 128]</a></span> refreshment and renewed presence.</p> - -<p>(<i>γγ</i>) If, however, a national Epos is to secure in addition the -permanent interest of foreign nations the world which it depicts must -not merely be of a <i>particular</i> nationality, but of a type that is, in -this specific folk, its heroism and exploits, equally impressed with -the stamp of our common humanity. In the poems of Homer, for example, -the superb directness with which he deals with matters of divine or -ethical import, the nobility of the characters and of everything living -therein embraced, the pictorial quality of their presentment to the -reader, all this insures an undying truth for succeeding ages. In this -respect we find a remarkable contrast in the creation of different -peoples. We cannot deny, for instance, that the Ramajana reflects -with the essential directness of life the national spirit of the -Hindoos, more particularly from the religious point of view; but the -character of the entire Hindoo race is so overpoweringly of a unique -type, that the essential features of our common humanity are unable to -assert themselves through the veil of this national idiosyncracy. A -remarkable contrast to this is the way in which the entire Christian -world, from the earliest times, has found itself at home in those epic -passages of Old Testament narrative, above all in the pictures of the -patriarchal state, and able to repicture for itself to the life the -events portrayed over and over again with the greatest enjoyment. The -testimony of Goethe is unequivocal. Here was the <i>one</i> focal centre, -he assures us, on which, in his young days, amid much that he learned -of a miscellaneous and unconnected character, his intellect no less -than feeling concentrated itself. Even in later life he still remarks -upon them that "after all our wanderings through the East we always -returned in the end to these writings as the most invigorating spring -of waters: here and there they might be troubled; not unfrequently they -hid themselves in the earth; but it was only to rise up again pure and -fresh as ever."</p> - -<p>(<i>γ</i>) <i>Finally</i>, the general condition of a particular people must -not in this tranquil universality of its individual character wholly -oust what is more directly the object of the Epos, in other words, be -described with no reference to<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_129" id="Page_129">[Pg 129]</a></span> that. It ought only to appear as the -<i>foundation</i>, upon which an event throughout its entire process is -transacted, one which is in contact with all aspects of the national -life, and one which illustrates the same as it proceeds. Such an -eventuality must not be a purely external incident; it must imply a -deliberately conceived purpose executed by equally deliberate effort. -If, however, these two aspects, namely, the general condition and the -particular action, do not coalesce, then the event in question must -seek its justification in the particular circumstances, the causal -conditions which dominate its movement. That is practically to say the -world of Epos which is reproduced must be conceived under a specific -situation which is so concrete that the definite objects which it is -the function of the epic narrative to realize, are necessarily made -explicit by it. We have already, when discussing the ideal action,<a name="FNanchor_5_96" id="FNanchor_5_96"></a><a href="#Footnote_5_96" class="fnanchor">[5]</a> -pointed out on general lines that this realization presupposes -situations and circumstances which bring about collisions, actions -that do injury and consequently necessary reactions. The particular -situation, therefore, in which the epic world-condition of a nation -is made actual to us, must of itself be essentially one implying such -<i>collisions.</i> In this respect, therefore, epic poetry enters the field -already occupied by dramatic poetry; and we may find it convenient at -once to determine in what respects the collisions of these two types of -poetry differ.</p> - -<p>(<i>αα</i>) Under the broadest review of this question we may say that the -conflict of the <i>belligerent</i> condition is that which supplies the -Epos with its most pertinent situation. In war it is obviously the -entire nation which is set in activity, and which, as a whole placed -under similar conditions, is moved and stimulated in a novel way, -in so far at least as it possesses any claim, as such a whole, to -participate in it. We may admit that the above conclusion stands in -apparent contradiction not merely with Homer's Odyssey, but also the -subject-matter of many poems that are epic in an otherwise intelligible -sense. It finds, however, ample corroboration in the majority of the -most famous Epopees. Moreover, the collision of operations in the -events of which the Odyssey informs us, derives part of its source -from the Trojan war; and even under the aspect of domestic life in<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_130" id="Page_130">[Pg 130]</a></span> -Ithaca, no less than that of the home-returning Odysseus, although the -narrative is no actual account of conflicts between Greeks and Trojans, -yet it deals with facts which are the immediate consequence of that -war. Nay, it is itself war under a new aspect, for many chieftains are -forced to reconquer their homes, which after their ten years' absence -they find under wholly altered conditions. We have practically but one -example of the religious Epos, Dante's "Divine Comedy." Even here, -too, the fundamental collision is deducible from that original Fall of -the evil angels from heaven, which brings in its train and within the -sphere of human experience the ever active external and ideal conflict -between the Divine Father and the conduct of men, whether hostile or -well-pleasing to Him, a conflict eternally perpetuated in condemnation, -purification, and blessedness, or in other words, hell, purgatory, and -paradise. Also, too, in the Messias it is the former war against the -Son of God which supplies the focal centre. At the same time the most -vital and truly pertinent examples are those which actually describe -the belligerent state. We have already drawn attention to such in the -Ramajana, and, most instructive of all, in the Iliad; further examples -are the famous poems of Ossian, Tasso, Ariosto, and Camoens. In war -<i>courage</i> is and remains the fundamental interest; and warlike courage -is a state of the soul and an activity, which is neither so suitable -for lyrical expression nor for dramatic action, but is pre-eminently -adapted to the descriptive power of the Epos. In dramatic poetry it is -rather the ideal strength or weakness of spiritual life, the ethically -justified or reprehensible pathos which is the main thing: in the -Epos, on the contrary, it is rather the native characteristics of a -personality. For this reason, where it is national exploits which are -undertaken, bravery is in its right place; it is in fact not an ethical -state,<a name="FNanchor_6_97" id="FNanchor_6_97"></a><a href="#Footnote_6_97" class="fnanchor">[6]</a> in which the will is determined through its own initiative -as an intelligent consciousness and volition. It rather depends on -natural temperament, unites in direct equilibrium, as by fusion, with -the sphere of self-conscious life, and, in order to bring into effect -practical ends, which can be more fitly expressed in epic description -than under the conceptions of lyrical emotion and reflection. And<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_131" id="Page_131">[Pg 131]</a></span> -these conclusions with regard to bravery in war apply with equal force -to the exploits of war and their consequences. The activities of -personal volition and the accidents of the external event supply the -two scales of the balance. The bare event, with its wholly material -obstructions, is excluded from the drama, inasmuch as here what is -exclusively external is not permitted to retain an independent right, -but is causally related to the aim and ideal purposes of individuals, -so that as to all contingent matter, if by any chance it appears to -arise and to determine the result, we are none the less compelled to -look for the real operative cause and justification thereof in the -spiritual nature of human character and its objects, no less than in -that of its collisions and their necessary resolution.</p> - -<p>(<i>ββ</i>) A basis of the epic action such as this of active hostilities -is obviously the source of a very varied subject-matter. We may have -placed before the imagination a host of interesting actions and events, -in which bravery in action supplies the leading rôle, and the claim -of external forces, whether asserted in circumstance or incident, is -maintained unimpaired. At the same time we must not overlook a respect -in which the possibilities of epic narration is essentially restricted. -It is only wars waged between one foreign nation and another which -partake of a truly epic character. In contrast to this conflicts -between dynasties, civil wars and social revolution, are more suited -to dramatic exposition. And in fact Aristotle long ago<a name="FNanchor_7_98" id="FNanchor_7_98"></a><a href="#Footnote_7_98" class="fnanchor">[7]</a> advises -the tragic poet to select subject-matter which is concerned with the -conflicts of brother against brother. Of this type is the war of the -Seven against Thebes. It is Thebes' own son who storms the city; and -its defender is the actual brother of the aggressor. Hostility of -this type is something more than that of a mere foe; its significance -is bound up with the individuality of the opposed brothers. We have -similar examples with every kind of variety in Shakespeare's historical -tragedies. In these, almost without exception, agreement between -particular individuals is what might be legitimately looked for, and -it is only the private motives of individual passion and a personality -absorbed in its own aims and satisfaction which bring about collisions -and wars<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_132" id="Page_132">[Pg 132]</a></span>. As an example of an action of this kind treated in the epic -manner, and therefore defectively, I will mention the "Pharsalia" of -Lucan. However indisputably important the conflicting aims in this -poem may appear to be, yet for all that the opposing parties are here -too closely related on the common ground of one fatherland: their -conflict, consequently, instead of being a war between two national -entities, is nothing more than a strife of parties, either of which, -by the very fact that it splits asunder the substantive national -unity, points in one direction, namely, that of tragic guilt and -demoralization. Held to this the objective facts are not placed before -us in their clearness and simplicity, but are inweaved with one another -in a confused manner. The same objections are equally pertinent to -Voltaire's Henriad. In contrast to this the hostility of <i>foreign</i> -nations is something substantive. Every nation constitutes a totality -essentially distinct from and in opposition to that of another. When -these come into conflict we do not feel that any positive ethical -connection is shattered, nothing at least of essential value to either -is violated,<a name="FNanchor_8_99" id="FNanchor_8_99"></a><a href="#Footnote_8_99" class="fnanchor">[8]</a> no necessary whole broken into fragments. Rather it is -a conflict waged in order to maintain such a totality unimpaired and to -justify its claim to be so. Hostility therefore of this type is suited -in every way to the essential character of epic poetry.</p> - -<p>(<i>γγ</i>) Not every war, however, waged under ordinary conditions -between two hostile nations is necessarily on that account of an epic -character. We must have a further condition satisfied, namely, the -justification on broad historical grounds for the bellicose attitude -thus adopted. Only when we have this do we obtain a picture of an -enterprise at once novel and more exalted, which does not present -the appearance of something apart from universal history, the purely -capricious subjugation of one state by another, but is absolutely and -essentially rooted in a profounder principle of necessity, however -much at the same time the more superficial and obvious motive of -the undertaking may assume from one point of view the aspect of -deliberate wrong,<a name="FNanchor_9_100" id="FNanchor_9_100"></a><a href="#Footnote_9_100" class="fnanchor">[9]</a> and from the other that of a private revenge. -<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_133" id="Page_133">[Pg 133]</a></span> -We have something analogous to such a situation in the Ramajana. But -the supreme example is that of the Iliad, where the Greeks invade an -Asiatic people, and in doing so fight out as it were the preludic -conflict of a tremendous opposition, the wars of which practically -constitute the turning point of Greek history as we see it on the -stage of universal history. Of the same type is the struggle of the -Cid against the Moors, or in Tasso and Ariosto the battles of the -Christians against the Saracens, or in Camoens the strife of the -Portuguese against the Indians. And indeed we may assert that in all -the greatest Epopees we find nations which differ from each other in -moral customs, religion, and language, in a word, in all that concerns -their spiritual and external life, brought into collision; and we are -ready to contemplate such without any revulsion on account of the -triumph we find asserted there of a nobler principle of world-evolution -over a less exalted, a victory assured by a bravery that is simply -annihilating. If any one should, in this sense, and in emulation of -past Epopees, which have sought to depict the triumph of the West over -the East, of the European principle of moderation, of the individually -articulate and truly organic type of beauty over Asiatic splendour, -over the magnificence of a patriarchal unity, which does not attempt to -secure such organic completeness, or is at least merely held together -by abstract and superficial conjunctions, if such, I say, should aspire -to write the Epopee of the future, he will be necessarily restricted -to the portrayal of the victory of some future and intensely vital -rationality of the American nation over the prison-house of the spirit -which for ever pursues its monotonous task of self-adjustment and -particularization.<a name="FNanchor_10_101" id="FNanchor_10_101"></a><a href="#Footnote_10_101" class="fnanchor">[10]</a> In the Europe of our day every nation finds -itself conditioned<a name="FNanchor_11_102" id="FNanchor_11_102"></a><a href="#Footnote_11_102" class="fnanchor">[11]</a> by its neighbour, and cannot venture on its own -account to wage any war with another European<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_134" id="Page_134">[Pg 134]</a></span> nation. If we lift our -eyes beyond Europe, there can be only one direction, America.</p> - -<p>(<i>b</i>) <i>The Individual Epic Action</i></p> - -<p>It is on such an essentially limited foundation then of conflict -between entire nationalities that the epic event is realized, the -leading characteristics of which we have now to determine. We may -summarize the form we propose our investigation should take as follows:</p> - -<p><i>Firsts</i> what actually takes place consists essentially in this that -the object of the epic action ought necessarily to be of <i>individual -vitality</i> and definition, however much it may rest on a basis of the -most general extension.</p> - -<p><i>Secondly</i>, for the reason that it is only of individuals that we can -predicate actions we have the problem to solve of the general nature of -the epic <i>character</i> or personality.</p> - -<p><i>Thirdly</i>, in the epic eventuality the form of objectivity is not -exclusively that of external appearance: it consists quite as much in -the significance of all that is itself intrinsically necessary to and -substantive in the exposition. We have consequently to determine the -form in which this intrinsic significance of the occurrence proclaims -itself as effective, either in part as the ideal necessity which is -therein concealed, or as the disclosed direction<a name="FNanchor_12_103" id="FNanchor_12_103"></a><a href="#Footnote_12_103" class="fnanchor">[12]</a> of eternal and -providential forces.</p> - -<p>(<i>α</i>) We have postulated as a necessary background of this epic world -an enterprise of national significance, in which the entire compass of -a national spirit can express itself in the bloom and freshness of its -heroic condition. From this fundamental substratum in its simplicity -we now further assume the apparition of a <i>particular</i> end, in the -realization of which all other aspects of the national character, -whether in belief or action, can be represented to our vision. The -original postulate is in fact bound up in the closest way with such an -all-embracing actuality.</p> - -<p>(<i>αα</i>) This purposed object, which is infused with the vital<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_135" id="Page_135">[Pg 135]</a></span> principle -of individuality on the lines of which, regarded in its particularized -content, the entire process moves forward, must further, as already -ascertained, appropriate to itself in the Epos the form of an <i>event</i>. -It will be therefore above all important to recall at once the specific -character of the mode, under which human volition and action generally -combine in what we designate as the event. Now, in the <i>first</i> place, -action and adventure are the outcome of conscious life, the content -of which is not only ideally expressed in emotions, reflections, and -thoughts, but also quite as much in a practical way. We may regard -such realization from two distinct points of view. <i>First,</i> we have -the ideal substance of the end presupposed and purposed, the general -character of which the individual must recognize, will, calculate and -accept. <i>Secondly</i>, there is the external reality of the spiritual or -human and the natural environment, within which he is only able to -act, and the accidental features of which at one time obstruct and at -another assist his path; so that either in the one case he is carried -forward by virtue of this favour to a successful issue, or, if in -the other he is not prepared wholly to give way to such opposition, -he finds it necessary to overcome them with his individual energy. -If now the world covered by this volitional power is conceived as -the indivisible unity of these two aspects, with the result that the -right of assertion by both is equally asserted, in that case what -is most pertinent to conscious life likewise enters into the formal -structure of the event, the form, that is, which confers on all human -action the <i>configuration of events</i>, in so far as the conscious or -subjective will, with its purposes, motives of passion, principles -and aims, can no longer appear the fact of most importance. Or, in -other words, in human <i>action</i> everything is referred back to human -personality, personal obligation, opinion and intention. In the case of -the <i>event</i>, on the contrary, the external constitution of things is -permitted to assert its inviolable claim. Here it is objective reality -itself, which constitutes either the form assumed by the whole, or from -another point of view a fundamental part of the content. In agreement -with such a view I have already stated that it is the function of epic -poetry to demonstrate the <i>happening</i> of an action, and thereby not -only to establish the external disposition of the execution of ends, -but also to meet as readily the clai<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_136" id="Page_136">[Pg 136]</a></span>ms of external condition, natural -occurrences, and all else of a contingent character, which, in action -taken simply as such, the ideal element of conscious life claims -exclusively as its province.</p> - -<p>(<i>ββ</i>) With regard to the <i>particular</i> end, the carrying out of which -the Epos unfolds under the mode of the event, it follows from our -previous conclusions that it must be no mere mental <i>abstraction</i>, -but on the contrary of wholly <i>concrete</i> definition. At the same -time, inasmuch as it is realized within the substantive actuality of -the national unity, such a process must exclude the notion of merely -capricious activity. The political state as such—the fatherland, -let us say—or the history of a State and country, are essentially -something universal, which, regarded in the light of such universality, -does not appear under the mode of a subjectively individual existence, -or, in other words, in inseparable and exclusive coalition with one -definite living individual. For this reason the history of a country, -the development of its political life, its constitution and destiny -may also no doubt be narrated as event; if, however, the facts thus -described are not placed before us as the concrete deed, the conscious -aim, the passion, the suffering and accomplishment of particular -heroes, whose individuality supplies the form and content of the -realization in all its parts, the event merely assumes the rigid -form of its independent forward movement in the prosaic history of a -people or an empire. In this respect no doubt the most exalted action -of Spirit would be the history of the world itself. We can conceive -it possible that our poet might in this sense undertake to elaborate -in what we may call the absolute Epos this universal achievement on -the battlefield of the universal spirit, whose hero would be the -spirit of man, the <i>humanus</i>, who is drawn up and exalted from the -clouded levels<a name="FNanchor_13_104" id="FNanchor_13_104"></a><a href="#Footnote_13_104" class="fnanchor">[13]</a> of conscious existence into the clearer region of -universal history. But in virtue of the very fact of its universality -a subject-matter of this kind would so be quite unfitted for<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_137" id="Page_137">[Pg 137]</a></span> artistic -treatment. It would not adapt itself sufficiently to individualization. -For on the one hand we fail altogether to find in such a subject a -clearly fixed background and world-condition, not merely in relation to -external <i>locale</i>, but also in that of morality and custom. In other -words, the only basis for all we could possibly presuppose would be the -universal World-Spirit or intelligence, whom we are unable to bring -visibly before us as a particular condition, and who is possessed of -the entire Earth as his local environment. And in like manner too the -one end fulfilled in such an Epos could only be the end proposed by the -World-Spirit himself,<a name="FNanchor_14_105" id="FNanchor_14_105"></a><a href="#Footnote_14_105" class="fnanchor">[14]</a> who can only be apprehended and explicitly -disclosed in his true significance through the processes of thought. If -he is, however, to be represented in the form of poetry, or, at least, -if the whole is to receive its proper meaning and coalescence from -such a source, it is necessary that his presence should be expressed -as that which acts independently from its own resources. This could -only be possible for poetry, in so far as the ideal Taskmaster of -history, the eternal and absolute Idea, which is realized in humanity, -either was envisioned as a directive, active, perfecting individual -person, or was merely made effective under the concealing veil of an -ever-operative Necessity. In the first case, however, the infinity of -such a content must shatter the necessarily limited artistic vessel -of determinate individuality, or, as the only way of avoiding such a -defect, must assume the inadequate form of a dispassionate allegory -of general reflections over the destination of the human race and its -education, over the final purpose of mankind, its moral consummation, -or over whatever result the end of this World-history might establish. -In the alternative case it is the genius of the various peoples which -has in each example to be presented (in the heroic figure) in the -conflicting existence of whom history expands and moves forward in -progressive evolution. If, however, the genius of nations is really -to appear in poetical form this can be carried out in only one way, -namely, by placing before us the actual world-historical figures as -operative through their deeds. We should, however, then merely have a -series of particular characters, which emerged and again disappeared in -a wholly external succession, the objects of which lacke<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_138" id="Page_138">[Pg 138]</a></span>d individual -unity and connection; and this would be so for the reason that the -controlling World-Spirit, under our conception of it, as the ideal -essence and destiny, could not, in the case supposed, be set forth as -itself an active individual and the culminating agent in the process. -And if, further, anyone was desirous of appropriating the spirits of -different nationalities in their universality, and of displaying them -as agents in such a substantive form, we should still only have a -similar series, the individuals whereof, apart from the fact that they -would merely possess an appearance of positive existence similar to -Hindoo incarnations, would, in the fictitious form of the imagination -they received pale into nothingness when contrasted with the truth of -the World-Spirit as realized in actual history.</p> - -<p>(<i>γγ</i>) We may consequently lay it down as a general principle that the -particular epic event is only able to secure a vital form in poetry -when it is united in the closest state of fusion with <i>one</i> individual. -Precisely as it is <i>one</i> poet who thinks out and executes the whole, -so too <i>one</i> individual must crown the edifice, with whom the event is -associated and in connection with whose single identity it is continued -and completed.</p> - -<p>We must point out, however, that here too we are limited by essential -conditions. For just as in our previous discussion it was the -world-history, so too now, from the converse point of view, it is -possible that the biographical treatment in a poetic composition of -a definite life-history may appear to supply the most complete and -adequate subject-matter of the Epos. This, however, is not the case. No -doubt in biography the individual is one and the same throughout; but -the events, through which the life-development proceeds, may entirely -fall apart, and only retain the subject of the same in a wholly formal -and accidental bond of relation. If, on the other hand, the Epos is -essentially homogeneous, the event also, in the form of which the -content of the poem is disclosed, must itself possess intrinsic unity. -Both aspects, in short, the unity of the individual and that of the -objective event, as it is evolved, must coalesce and be united. In the -life and exploits of the Cid it is unquestionably true that on the -field of the Fatherland it is only one great personality which without -intermission remains true to himself, and<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_139" id="Page_139">[Pg 139]</a></span> in his development, chivalry -and end constitutes the interest. His deeds pass before him, much as if -he were the sculptured god; and finally all is gone and vanished for -us, no less than for himself.<a name="FNanchor_15_106" id="FNanchor_15_106"></a><a href="#Footnote_15_106" class="fnanchor">[15]</a> But the poems of the Cid are also as -rhymed chronicles no genuine example of the Epos; and, in their later -form of romances, they are, as their specific type necessitates, merely -isolated situations split off from this national hero's life, which do -not necessarily coalesce in the unity of a particular event.</p> - -<p>The finest examples, however, of the observance of the above rule -are to be met with in the Iliad and Odyssey, where Achilles and -Odysseus are respectively the prominent figures. The Ramajana, too, -resembles these poems in this respect. Dante's "Divine Comedy" is an -illustration, but in quite a unique way. In other words, it is the Epic -poet himself with whose single personality, in his wanderings through -hell, purgatory, and paradise, all and everything is so associated that -he is able to recount the picture of his imagination as a personal -experience, and is consequently entitled to interweave with the general -substance of his composition his private emotions and reflections to a -larger extent than is possible for other epic poets.</p> - -<p>(<i>β</i>) However much then, speaking generally, epic poetry informs us -of actual fact and its occurrence, and thereby makes the objective -world its content and form, yet on the other hand, inasmuch as what -happens is an <i>action,</i> which passes in successive views before us, -it is rather, and for this reason, to <i>individuals</i>, and their deed -and suffering that the main emphasis is attached. For it is only -individuals, be they gods or men, who can veritably act; and just in -proportion as they are interwoven in the vividness of life with such a -panorama, to that extent they are entitled to attract the main interest -to the fulness of their exposition. From this point of view epic poetry -stands on level terms with lyric no less than dramatic poetry. It is -therefore of some importance that we attempt to define more closely -what the <i>specific</i> features are which distinguish the portrayal of -personality in the epic composition.</p> - -<p>(<i>αα</i>) Now, first, what is essential to the objective aspect of an epic -character—I am speaking mainly of the leading<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_140" id="Page_140">[Pg 140]</a></span> personages—is that -they should be themselves essentially a <i>totality</i> of such traits, in -other words complete men, and thereby display in themselves all aspects -of emotional life, or to put it better, should represent in a typical -way, national opinion and its active pursuits. In this respect I have -already in the first part drawn attention to the heroic characters -of Homer; and, in particular, to the variety of genuinely human and -truly national qualities which Achilles unites in himself so vitally, -the hero of the Odyssey supplying an admirable companion picture. The -Cid is similarly presented us with much variety of characterization -and situation, as son, hero, lover, husband, father, householder, and -in his relations to king, friends, and foes. Other Epopees of the -Middle Ages are a great contrast, far more abstract in their type of -personification, particularly so where their heroes merely champion the -cause of chivalry as such, and are removed from the sphere of the true -and actual life of the nation.</p> - -<p>It is then the fundamental characteristic of the exposition of epic -personality that it should unfold itself as such a totality in the most -diverse scenes and situations. The characters of tragedy and comedy may -no doubt also possess a similar wealth of ideality; for the reason, -however, that in their case the sharp contrast between a pathos that is -never other than one-sided and a passion opposed to it is within very -definable limits and ends the thing of most importance, such a varied -character is in part, where it is not entirely superfluous, at least -more in the nature of a prodigality which is incidental, and in part -is also, as a rule, overpowered by the <i>one</i> passion, its motives and -ethical considerations, and thus forced by the type of presentation -into the background. In the whole of the epic composition, on the -contrary, all aspects assert an equal right to assert themselves, -and expand with freedom and breadth. That they should do so is -indeed fundamental to the principle of epic composition; and from a -further point of view the personality here, in virtue of the entire -world-condition he presupposes, possesses a right to be, and to make -all that valid wherein his existence is realized, and for the good -reason that he lives in an age to which precisely this <i>objective</i> -being, this immediate individuality is appropriate. It is, of cou<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_141" id="Page_141">[Pg 141]</a></span>rse, -for instance, quite possible for us, with regard to the wrath of -Achilles, to point out, as moral reflection may suggest, the injury -and loss which that wrath entailed, and therefrom to conclude that the -superiority and greatness of Achilles is very appreciably removed from -any approach to ideal perfection, whether as hero or man, having no -power apparently on a single occasion to moderate his anger or exercise -self-restraint. But for all that we do wrong in blaming Achilles. And -this is not because we may overlook the wrath in virtue of his other -great qualities. Achilles is, in other words, simply nothing more or -less than this portrait. So far as Epic poetry is concerned, that is -the end of the matter. The same observations apply to his ambition and -his love of glory. The main justification of these great characters -is the energy of their achievement; they carry, in fact, a universal -principle in their particularity. Conversely, ordinary morality tends -to depreciate its native personality, and hold in reserve the resources -of its life-force, and discovers its essential being in this attitude. -What an astonishing self-esteem, for instance, an Alexander asserted -over his friends and the life of I know not how many thousands. -Self-revenge, even traits of brutality, testify to an energy of the -same type in heroic times; and even in this respect Achilles, in his -rôle of epic hero, has little to learn.</p> - -<p>(<i>ββ</i>) And it is just on account of this fact that such preeminent -figures are complete individuals, who have in resplendent degree all -that concentrated in them which otherwise is diffused and separate in -the national character, and thereby are throughout great, free, and -humanly beautiful characters that they are rightly set in the chief -place; and we find that the event of most significance is inviolably -linked with such individuality. The nation is, as it were, focussed -as a single living soul in them, and as such they fight out its main -enterprise, and suffer the hazards of its resulting experience. In -this respect Gottfried von Bouillon, in Tasso's "Jerusalem Liberated," -is no such overpowering figure as Achilles, this typical youthful -bloom and perfection of the entire Grecian host; nor is he even an -Odysseus, although he is selected as the wisest, bravest, and most -just of leaders to command the entire army. The Achæans are unable to -win a victory if Achilles stands aloof from the contest; <span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_142" id="Page_142">[Pg 142]</a></span>it is he -alone who, by means of his triumph over Hector, carries victory into -Troy itself; and in the return home of Odysseus we find a mirror of -the return of all the Greeks from Troy, only with the difference that -it is just in that which it is his destiny to endure we have placed -exhaustively before our vision the entire compass of the sufferings, -life experience, and conditions which are implied in the whole -subject-matter. The characters of the drama, on the other hand, are not -so represented as in themselves the absolute crowning point of all the -rest, which becomes objective in and through them. They rather are set -forth independently and for themselves in their purpose, which they -accept as the outcome of their character, or as the result of definite -principles which have grown up in conjunction with their more isolate -personality.</p> - -<p>(<i>γγ</i>) There is a <i>third</i> distinguishing feature in epic -characterization due to the fact that the Epos does not portray -an action simply as action, but an event. In drama the matter of -importance is that the individual manifests himself as operative for -his specific purpose, and is expressly represented in such activity and -its consequences. This undeviating consideration for the realization -of a distinct purpose is absent in the Epic. No doubt in this case, -too, heroes have desires and aims, but the main thing here is all that -they may happen to experience while fulfilling it, not the nature of -their conduct in the carrying it out. The circumstances are just as -active as themselves, frequently more active. The return to Ithaca, -for example, is the actual project of Odysseus. The Odyssey, however, -does not merely display this character in the active execution of his -predetermined end, but expands its account into all the variety of -occurrence which he happens to experience in his wanderings, what he -suffers, what obstructions meet him in the way, what dangers he has to -overcome, and all, in fact, that moves him. And this varied experience -is not, as would be necessary in the drama, a direct result of his -action, but is in great measure rather incidental to his journey, in -the main even independent of the concurrent action of the hero. After -his adventures with the Lotophagi, Polyphemus, and the Laestrygones, -the godlike Circe detains him for a full year. Further, after he has -visited the lower world and suf<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_143" id="Page_143">[Pg 143]</a></span>fered shipwreck, he dallies with -Calypso, until he falls into home-sickness, wearies of the damsel, and -stares with tearful eyes over the solitary sea. Thereupon it is Calypso -herself who finally provides him with the means wherewith he builds -his boat, who provides him with food, wine and raiment, and takes her -right anxious and kindly farewell of him. Finally, after his sojourn -among the Phæacians, he is carried in sleep—he knows not how—to the -shores of his island. To carry out a purposed end in this sort of way -would not be possible for dramatic poetry. Again, in the Iliad, the -wrath of Achilles, which, along with all else that results from this -compelling force, constitutes the specific object of the narrative, is -throughout not an end, but rather an emotional state. When Achilles is -insulted he rages. In this condition, so far from doing anything truly -dramatic, he withdraws apart, does nothing with Patroclus by the ships -on the seashore, sullenly angry that he is not honoured by the lord of -the folk. Then follow the consequences of his retirement, and only at -last, when his friend has been slain by Hector, do we find Achilles -once more plunge into the conflict. In another way, again, is the end -prescribed to Æneas, which he has to carry out, where Virgil recounts -all the events as the result of which its realization is in such varied -ways postponed.</p> - -<p>(<i>γ</i>) We have just one further important feature to mention in respect -to the form of the event in the Epos. I have already observed that -in the drama the conscious will, and that which the same demands -and wills, is essentially the determining factor, and constitutes -the permanent foundation of the entire presentation. All that is -carried out appears throughout as posited already by the personal -character and its aims; and the main interest above all turns upon the -justification or its absence of what is done within the situations -presupposed and the conflicts they bring about. If consequently it so -happens also that in the drama the external conditions are themselves -active, they nevertheless only retain their validity by virtue of -that which conscious feeling and volition makes of them, and the -ways and means under which character reacts upon them. In the Epos, -however, the circumstances and external accidents are effective on -level terms with the personal will itself. All that man accomplishes -passes before us precisely as any other event of the<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_144" id="Page_144">[Pg 144]</a></span> world outside -him, so that the human exploit is in this case likewise and equally -conditioned, and must be shown to be carried forward by the development -of such an environment. The individual, in short, in epic poetry does -not merely act freely of himself and independently. He is placed in -the midst of an assemblage of facts, whose end and actuality in its -wide correlation with an essentially unified world of conscious life -or objective existence supplies the irremovable foundation of the -life of each separate individual. This typical system is, in fact, -predominant in the Epos through all its content, whether in that of -passion, determined result, or general achievement. It is true that -at first sight we might expect that, on account of an equal cogency -being accorded to external condition in its independent eventualities, -we should find indisputable opportunity given for every shade of -contingency. And yet we have seen that it is the function of the Epos -to present what is truly objective—what is, in short, essentially -substantive existence. The solution of this contradiction is to be -found in this, that the principle of <i>necessity</i> is involved in the -events, whether taken in detail or generally.</p> - -<p>(<i>αα</i>) In this connection we may affirm of the Epos—not, however, as -is generally assumed of the drama—that <i>Destiny</i> is a predominant -force. No doubt the dramatic character by the kind of end accepted, -which he endeavours to carry out despite all obstruction under the -circumstances given and recognized, makes of <i>himself</i> his Destiny; -but in the Epos, on the contrary, it is <i>made for him</i>, and this force -of circumstances, which stamp their particular form on the deed, -apportions to each individual his lot, determines the result of his -actions—is, in short, the genuine control of Destiny. What happens -is appertinent to itself. It is so, and only thus; it is the fiat of -necessity. In lyric poetry we are conscious of emotion, reflection, the -personal interest, and yearning. The drama converts the ideal claim -of human action into an objective presence. The presentation of epic -poetry, on the other hand, moves, as it were, within the element itself -of essentially necessary existence. Therefore, the individual has no -choice but to follow this particular substantive<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_145" id="Page_145">[Pg 145]</a></span> condition; and, in -its process of being, to adapt himself to it or not, and then to suffer -as he is able and is forced to suffer. Destiny, in short, defines what -is and inevitably must be, and in the result success, misadventure, -life, and death are plastic precisely in the sense that individuals -are plastic. What does actually unfold before us is a condition of -universal expanse, in which the actions and destinies of mankind appear -as something isolated and evanescent. This fatality is the great -justice, and is not tragic in the dramatic sense of the term, in which -the individual appears judged as a <i>personality</i>, but in the epic sense -in which judgment is passed on man in all that concerns him.<a name="FNanchor_16_107" id="FNanchor_16_107"></a><a href="#Footnote_16_107" class="fnanchor">[16]</a> The -tragic Nemesis consists in this, that the greatness of his concerns is -too great for the individual concerned. Consequently a certain tone of -sadness<a name="FNanchor_17_108" id="FNanchor_17_108"></a><a href="#Footnote_17_108" class="fnanchor">[17]</a> prevails over the whole. What is most glorious is seen very -early to pass away. In the fulness of his life Achilles mourns over his -death; and at the conclusion of the Odyssey we view him and Agamemnon -as spirits that have passed away as shades, with the consciousness that -they are shades. Troy, too, falls; old Priam is slain hard by the altar -of the home; women and maidens become slaves. Æneas, in obedience to -the divine command, departs to found a new kingdom in Latium, and the -victorious heroes only return after manifold suffering to the happiness -or bitterness that awaits them at home.</p> - -<p>(<i>ββ</i>) This necessity of events may, however, be represented in very -different ways.</p> - -<p>The most obvious and least elaborate is the bare exhibition of such -events without any further explanation of the poet of a necessary -element existing in the particular occurrences and their general -consequence by his addition of a controlling world of gods disclosed in -the decision, interference, and co-operation of eternal powers. In such -a case we must, however, have the feeling brought home from the entire -atmosphere of the exposition, that in the recounted events and great -life-destinies of single individuals and entire families or races, we -are not merely confronted with what is mutable and contingent in human -existence, but with destinies which have an essential foundation, -whose necessity remains, however, the obscure operation of a power<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_146" id="Page_146">[Pg 146]</a></span> -which is not placed before us poetically as such a power in its divine -controlling energy to the point of defined individualization and in -its explicit activity. The Niebelungenlied retains this general tone -strongly, albeit it does not ascribe the direction of the blood-stained -final result of all committed deed either to Christian Providence or -the pagan world of gods. For in regard to Christendom, we merely hear -of churchgoing and mass. We have, indeed, the remark of the bishop -of Spejevs to the beautiful Ute, when the heroes withdraw into king -Etzel's country: "Please God, He will keep them there!" We have also no -doubt dreams of warning, the prophecy of the Danube maidens to Hagen, -and other examples of a similar kind, but no really conclusive witness -to the control and interference of gods. This leaves an impression on -this poetry as of a something unriddled, unyielding, a mournfulness -that is at the same time objective, and consequently wholly epic in -its tone. It is a great contrast to the poems of Ossian, in which -in the same way no gods appear, yet in which, on the other hand, we -find lamentation over the death and downfall of the entire heroic -stock presented under the form of the private sorrow of the dismayed -minstrel, and as the yearning of a woe-begone recollection.</p> - -<p>Essentially distinct from the above type of conception is the complete -interlacement of all human destiny and natural event with the -resolution, volition and action of a many-sided world of gods such -as we find in the great Hindoo Epopees, and in Homer, Virgil, and -others. I have already expressly drawn attention to the varied poetic -interpretation which the poet himself supplies of events, which are -apparently accidental, through his assumption of the co-operation and -apparition of gods, and attempted to enforce the same by particular -examples from the Iliad and the Odyssey. Here we may observe that the -condition of most importance to the poetry in question is that in this -reciprocal action of gods and men the relative independence of both -aspects is maintained, so that neither the gods fall into lifeless -abstractions, nor the human individuals become purely subservient -vassals. How such a danger is to be avoided I have already discussed -at length in a previous passage. The Hindoo Epos is in this respect -unable to force its way fully to the<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_147" id="Page_147">[Pg 147]</a></span> truly ideal relation between -gods and mankind; on such a stage of imaginative symbolism the human -aspect still remains aloof in its free and beautiful actuality, and the -activity of individuals in part appears as the incarnation of gods, -and in part, as something of more incidental merit, vanishes, or is -depicted under the guise of ascetic exaltation to the condition and -power of gods. Conversely the variously personified powers, passions, -genii, angels, and so forth, that we meet with in Christendom possess -for the most part too little individual independence, and consequently -tend only to affect us in a cold and abstract sort of way. The case is -much the same in Mohammedanism. Through the deification of Nature and -the world of mankind, through the conception of a prosaic co-ordination -of reality, it is hardly possible to avoid the danger, more -particularly where we enter a region of fairyland, wherein a miraculous -interpretation is given to that which is essentially contingent and -indifferent in external circumstances, which are themselves only -present as a simple occasion for human action and as the ordeal of -individual character, without possessing therewith an ideal consistency -and foundation. By reason of this no doubt the infinitely extensible -connection of cause and effect is broken, and the many sections in this -prosaic concatenation of circumstances, which cannot be throughout -made clearly distinct, are brought all of a sudden into one union. If, -however, such a result is secured without the principle of necessity -and ideal reasonableness, such a mode of elucidation, as, for example, -frequently in "The Thousand and one Nights," appears as little more -than the sport of an imagination, which endeavours to unfold as -causality possible and actual, by means of such inventions, what is -otherwise incredible.</p> - -<p>The fairest mean, on the other hand, in this respect is that retained -by Greek poetry, inasmuch as it is able to bestow both on gods and -men a reciprocally indestructible power and freedom of independent -individuality. And such is harmonious with its fundamental standpoint.</p> - -<p>(<i>ββ</i>) There is, however, particularly in the epic conception of it, -a point of view relative to the collective world of gods, which I -have already referred to above in another connection. This is the -contrast which the <i>primitive</i><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_148" id="Page_148">[Pg 148]</a></span> Epopee presents to the <i>artificial</i> -composition of later times. This difference is very pronounced if -we compare Homer and Virgil. The level of education, from which the -Homeric poems originated, still continues in a fair harmony with the -poetic subject-matter. With Virgil, on the contrary, we are reminded by -every single hexameter that the general outlook of the poet is totally -different from the world, which it is his endeavour to depict; and -the gods more particularly have lost the freshness of their original -vitality. Instead of being living persons in their own selves, actual -witnesses to us of their existence, they have rather the appearance -of being mere creations of the poet and external instruments, which -it is neither possible for the poet or his audience to take quite -seriously, although there is an open pretence made that they have been -taken thus seriously. Throughout the whole of the Virgilian Epic we -feel ourselves in the atmosphere of ordinary life; the old tradition, -the saga, the fairyland of poetry enters with prosaic distinctness -into the frame of our common-sense faculties. What we have in the -Æneid is very much what we find in the Roman history of Livy, where -ancient kings and consuls make speeches, precisely as an orator made -his speech in the Agora of Rome, or the school of the rhetoricians in -the days of Livy himself. And, on the other hand, in what is really -retained from tradition, as an example of primitive speech, such as -the fable of Menenius Agrippa<a name="FNanchor_18_109" id="FNanchor_18_109"></a><a href="#Footnote_18_109" class="fnanchor">[18]</a> about the functions of the belly, we -find a contrast which is almost repulsive. In Homer, however, the gods -are wafted in a magical light between poetry and reality: they are not -permitted to approach the imagination so nearly, that the apparition of -them confronts us with all the detail of ordinary life; nor are they -left so undefined, that they lose all appearance of vital reality as we -look at them. All that they do is readily explained by the soul-life -and activities of men; and that which supports our faith in them is -the substance and content upon which they essentially repose. From -this point of view the poet, too, is thoroughly in earnest with his -creations, though he treats with irony their form and external reality. -In agreement with this it appears that the ancients themselves believed -in this external form merely as works of art, which receive <span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_149" id="Page_149">[Pg 149]</a></span>their -confirmation and significance as a gift of the poet. This light-hearted -and human freshness of presentment, in virtue of which the gods appear -human and natural, is one of the pre-eminent qualities of the Homeric -poems. The divine figures of Virgil float before our vision as so many -invented wonders, as members of an artificial system. Virgil has not -wholly escaped the charge of mere travesty, despite his earnestness; -nay, this earnest mien of his is rather the cause of it, and Blumauer's -Mercury with his boots and spurs and riding-whip is not without its -justification. There is no necessity for any one else to make the -Homeric gods ridiculous. His own picture of them makes them quite -ridiculous enough. Nay, in his own story the gods themselves have their -laugh over the lame Hephestus, and over the cunning net in which Mars -lies in company with Venus, to say nothing of the box on the ear that -Venus gets, and the howl of Mars as he collapses. By means of these -touches of natural lustiness and gaiety the poet at once liberates -us from the external form which he set up, and enforces all the more -emphatically our common human nature, which he values, and which -suffers, however, the necessary and substantive power involved therein, -and the faith in the same, to remain. But one or two more examples of -similar detail. The tragic episode of Dido is so entirely to the modern -colour, that it was able to inspire a Tasso with emulation, nay, even -in part to a literal translation. Even nowadays the French are moved -to something like ecstasy over it. And yet how totally different in -their human naïveté, simplicity and truth are the Homeric narratives of -Circe and Calypso. The contrast is the same in Homer's account of the -descent of Odysseus into Hades. This obscure and twilight like retreat -of the shades is shown us through a dusky cloud, in an intermingling of -imagination and reality, which takes hold of us with astonishing force. -Homer does not suffer his hero to descend into any Underworld ready to -hand. Odysseus himself digs a pit, and pours therein the blood of a ram -he has killed; he summons the shades, which are then under constraint -to circle round him, and bids some of them drink fresh blood that they -may address him, and give him news, and drives away others with the -sword as they throng round him in their thirst for life. Everything -that happens here is<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_150" id="Page_150">[Pg 150]</a></span> bound up with the life of the hero, whose general -demeanour is the reverse of the humble attitude of Æneas and Dante. In -Virgil's account Æneas descends in the ordinary way; and the flight -of steps, Cerberus, Tantalus, and all the rest leaves us with the -impression of a definitely organized family establishment, quite to the -pattern of an orthodox compendium of mythology.</p> - -<p>With yet more force will this artificial <i>compôte</i> of the poet appear -as such rather than a work that springs naturally from the subject -where we are already cognisant of the substance of the tale that -is told us in its fresh and primitive form, or as actual history. -Examples of this are Milton's "Paradise Lost," the "Noachid" of -Bodmer, Klopstock's "Messias," Voltaire's "Henriade," and others. In -all these poems we cannot fail to detect a real cleft between the -content and the reflection of the poet which modifies his description -of the events, characters and circumstances. In Milton's case, for -example, we find emotions and observations obviously the growth of an -imagination and ethical ideas inseparable from his own age. In the -same way with Klopstock we have God the Father, the history of Jesus -Christ, patriarchs and angels combined with our German education of -the eighteenth century, and the ideas of Wölffian metaphysic. This -twofold aspect asserts itself in every line. No doubt in these cases -the content itself offers many difficulties. For God the Father, -the heaven of the angels, and the angelic host are far less adapted -to the individualization of a free imagination than are the Homeric -gods, which, in a manner similar to the in part fantastic creations -in Ariosto, in their external mode of appearance, and so far as they -do not epitomize<a name="FNanchor_19_110" id="FNanchor_19_110"></a><a href="#Footnote_19_110" class="fnanchor">[19]</a> human action, but rather independently confront -each other as individuals, do of themselves suggest the gibe over such -a presentment.<a name="FNanchor_20_111" id="FNanchor_20_111"></a><a href="#Footnote_20_111" class="fnanchor">[20]</a> Moreover Klopstock, so far as a religious outlook -is concerned, introduces us to a world devoid of foundation, which he -crowds with the brilliant effects of a rathe<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_151" id="Page_151">[Pg 151]</a></span>r exhausting imagination, -and compels us to take everything as seriously as he means it himself. -This is particularly unfortunate in the case of his angels and devils. -Such creations only really have substance and can be brought home to -us in their individuality in so far as the material of their actions, -as with the Homeric gods, is rooted in the spiritual experience of -humanity, or in a reality already known to us, as in cases where -they claim importance as being the guardian spirits or angels of men -or cities, but who, apart from such a concrete significance, assert -what is just so much the more merely the vacancy of imagination in -proportion as a serious actuality is ascribed to them. Abbadona, -for instance, the repentant devil,<a name="FNanchor_21_112" id="FNanchor_21_112"></a><a href="#Footnote_21_112" class="fnanchor">[21]</a> possesses neither a truly -allegorical meaning—for in the abstract notion of devil there can be -no inconsistency of guilt which can be converted into virtue—nor is -such a figure one that is essentially and truly concrete. If Abbadona -were a man, a conversion to God would no doubt be reasonable; but -where we have evil regarded as something independently substantive, -which is not an individual human evil, such a conversion is merely -a triviality of sentimental emotion. It is in fact a distinguishing -characteristic of Klopstock's invention that it creates such unreal -personages, conditions and events, which have nothing in common with -the actual world and its poetical content. And he fares no better in -the machinery of his judicial condemnation of riotous living in high -places, least of all in the contrast he presents to Dante, who condemns -the famous personalities of his time to hell with a power of detailed -realization of another type altogether. Equally destitute of real -content as poetry is the joy of the resurrection among the assembled -spirits of Adam, Noah, Shem, Japhet, and the rest, as depicted by -Klopstock, who, in the 11th canto of the Messias, at the command of -Gabriel, once more revisit their graves. Reason and rational ground -are alike absent here. The souls have lived in the Divine Presence; -they now behold the Earth, but they enter into no renewed relation -with it. We may presume that they could not do better than appear to -men; but of this there is not a single example. No doubt we find here -beautiful emotions, endearing situations; and above all the moment<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_152" id="Page_152">[Pg 152]</a></span> in -which the soul is once more united to a body is depicted in a way that -arrests us; but the <i>content</i> remains none the less an invention that -possesses no real claim to credibility. In contrast to such abstract -ideas the blood-drinking of the phantoms in Homer, their reanimation -in memory and speech, possess for us infinitely more the truth and -realization of ideal poetry. And though from the point of view of -imaginative resource these pictures of Klopstock are decorative enough, -what is most essential in them is throughout the lyrical rhetoric of -angels, who appear merely as instruments of service, or of patriarchs -and other Biblical figures whose speeches and harangues have little in -harmony with their historical characters as we have received the same -from tradition. Mars, Apollo, War, Knowledge, and so forth—powers of -this kind are neither in respect to their content wholly inventions, as -the angels are, nor are they simply historical persons borrowed from -historical sources, as are the patriarchs; they are on the contrary -permanent forces, whose <i>form</i> and mode of appearance is alone the -<i>poet's creation.</i> In the "Messias," however, admitting its excellence -in certain directions—its purity of feeling, the brilliancy of its -phantasy—yet it cannot be denied that by reason of the very type of -such a phantasy we have here very, very much indeed that is hollow, -without definite substance, and utilized simply as machinery for -something else, all of which, combined with the absence of continuity -in the content and its mode of conception, has even already covered -the entire poem with oblivion. Things only live and remain green, -which, essentially vital in themselves, unfold to us original life -and activity in their pristine mould. For this reason we must hold -fast to the primitive Epopees, and keep aloof, not only from modes -of conception which are antagonistic to the actual presence which is -vindicated in such, but also and above all from false aesthetic theory -and predilection, at least if we are really anxious to enjoy and study -the original world-outlook of nations, that great and spiritual<a name="FNanchor_22_113" id="FNanchor_22_113"></a><a href="#Footnote_22_113" class="fnanchor">[22]</a> -natural history. We have every reason to congratulate recent times, -and our German nation in particular, that it is now on the road to -the attainment of this object; that it has, in short, broken through -the former obtuseness, of ord<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_153" id="Page_153">[Pg 153]</a></span>inary methods of thinking, and by its -liberation of the mind from restricted views made it more receptive -to ideas of the world which it is imperative that we as individuals -enter into, and which alone are able to restore to us, to the full -extent of their claim, the resurrected spirits of nations, whose ideal -significance and deed thus appear struck into life in these their own -Epopees.</p> - -<p>(<i>c</i>) <i>The Epos as Unified Totality</i></p> - -<p>Hitherto, in considering the necessary qualifications of a genuine -Epos, we have on the one hand discussed the <i>general</i> world-environment -and from a further point of view the nature of the particularized event -transacted on such a background by <i>individuals</i> either acting under -the direction of gods or subject to destiny. These two fundamental -aspects have yet further to coalesce in one and the same epic totality. -In respect to this I will merely confine the reader's attention to the -following points of interest:</p> - -<p>In the <i>first</i> place we propose to consider the <i>collective aggregate -of objects</i>, a satisfactory exposition of which is necessary to -disclose the connection between the particular action and the -substantive ground referred to.</p> - -<p><i>Secondly</i>, we have to examine the nature of the difference which -obtains between the epic mode of <i>disclosure</i> and that of lyric or -dramatic poetry.</p> - -<p><i>Thirdly</i> we have to deal with the <i>unity</i> in which an epic composition -is rounded off despite all its breadth of extension.</p> - -<p>(<i>α</i>) The content of the Epos, as already observed, is the entirety of -a world in which an individual action is eventuated. In such a world -the greatest variety of objects appear necessarily appertinent to the -general views, deeds, and conditions of such a world.</p> - -<p>(<i>αα</i>) Lyrical poetry is, no doubt, involved in definite situations, -within which the subject of the lyric is permitted to import a great -variety of content into its emotion and reflection. In this type of -poetry, however, it is throughout the form of conscious life itself -which characterizes such content; and for this reason excludes the -outlook on the objective world in all its breadth of extension. -Conversely the dramatic composition presents us characters a<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_154" id="Page_154">[Pg 154]</a></span>nd the -carrying out of the action itself with all the animated appearance -of life, so that here, too, the portrayal of local accessories, the -external form of the active personages and all that happens, in the -nature of the case tends to disappear. As a rule, what we have to -express is the soul-motive and purpose rather than its extensive -relations with the surrounding world of objects, or a description of -individuals in their positive appearance as part of them. In the Epos, -however, quite apart from the national actuality in the widest sense, -upon which the action is based, we must find room for the ideal or -soul aspect no less than the external or world aspect. We have in this -type, therefore, under review and in coalescence the entire totality -of all that we may reckon as comprised in the poetic presentation of -our human existence. In this content we must not merely include on -the one side the natural environment in the sense of this or that -specific locality in which the action takes place, but also the more -universal objective outlook such as I have already pointed out is a -feature we find illustrated in the Odyssey, enabling us to understand -how the Greeks in the times of Homer regarded the shape of the Earth, -the configuration of the seas, and similar geographical facts. At the -same time these natural aspects are not the object of most importance -in the poem; they are merely the foundation; there is, in short, the -further and more essential aspect of the composition unfolded in -the existence, activities, and co-operation of the entire world of -divinities; and between these two extremes we have humanity simply as -such in its collective relation to domestic, public, peaceful, and -warlike situations, ethical habit, customs, characters and events. And, -moreover, throughout we have to assume in both directions, whether -that is from the point of view of the individual event, or the general -condition, the all-embracing national and other actual complexus.</p> - -<p>Finally, if we consider the nature of this intelligible content it -is not merely an external <i>événement</i> that is presented us, but -in conjunction with such we must have, too, placed before us the -ideal world of emotion, the aims and purposes of mind, all that may -contribute to justify or condemn a deliberate line of conduct. In -short, the real subject-matter of lyric and dramatic poetry is not -wholly excluded, althou<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_155" id="Page_155">[Pg 155]</a></span>gh in the epic type these aspects merely are -valid as subordinate features; they do not, as in the former cases, -constitute the essential form of the exposition, nor do they deprive -the Epos of its distinctive character. We may consequently affirm that -the distinctive note of the Epic is absent, when lyric expression -determines both tone and colour, as is the case, for example, in -Ossian, or when passages are emphasized in which the execution of -the poet is made as consummate as possible, as is to some extent the -case with Tasso, and to a still more marked degree characteristic of -Milton and Klopstock. Emotions and reflections ought rather, no less -than the portrayal of objective fact, to be transmitted as something -done, already spoken and thought, and not interrupt the tranquil -course of the Epic narrative. The incoherent exclamation of emotion, -the direct outcry of the soul mainly intent with its utterance upon -self-revelation, is out of place in such poetry. It will for the same -reason and as strongly abstain from an imitation of the animation -of dramatic dialogue, in which individuals carry on a conversation -as though face to face with each other, where the aspect of most -importance throughout is the contrast presented by different types of -character in their interchange of speech as they strive to convince, -command, impose upon, or passionately unravel their motives to one -another.</p> - -<p>(<i>ββ</i>) And, <i>secondly</i>, the Epos has not merely to bring before -our vision the manifold content above described in its actually -independent and subsistent objective form, but also the form in -which it essentially becomes the Epos is, as I have more than once -already described it, an <i>individual</i> event. If this essentially -limited action is to remain united with all other material introduced, -this additional accretion of fact, must throughout be brought into -definite relation with the course of the individual event, that is to -say, it must not fall outside it as independent. We could not find a -more perfect illustration of this interweaving of all threads than -that of the Odyssey. The domestic arrangements of the Greeks, for -instance, no less than the ideas we get of foreign and barbarous folk -and countries, or of the realm of the shades, and much else, are so -closely interwoven with the personal wanderings of the home-returning -Odysseus and the fortunes of Telemachus on his journey after his<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_156" id="Page_156">[Pg 156]</a></span> -father, that not one of these aspects of the tale is held in a loose -and independent position apart from the main event, or, as with the -chorus of tragedy, which does not usually enter into the action -and merely deals with generalized reflections, is able to relapse -inactive into retrospection, but co-operates in the actual progress -of the event. In a similar manner Nature also and the world of gods -for the first time receives, not so much on their own account as in -their relation to the particular events, which it is the function of -the godlike to direct, an individual representation and one of rich -vitality. Only when such a condition is fulfilled, or, in other words, -when the narrative throughout informs us of the progressive movement -of the event, which the poet has selected as the unifying material of -his composition, can it never appear as a mere portrayal of independent -objects. On the other hand, the particular event for its part should -not be involved in and absorb the substantive national basis and -totality upon which it moves forward to such a degree, that these are -themselves divested of all independent existence, and fall by necessity -into a relation simply of service. In this respect the expedition of -Alexander against the East would not supply satisfactory subject-matter -for the true Epopee. An heroic exploit of this kind not merely in -respect to the original resolve, but also to its manner of execution, -depends so entirely on this <i>one</i> single individual, his personality -and character is so exclusively that which supports it, that we lose -altogether the independent existence and self-assertion of the national -basis, the host and its leaders, which we have shown to be a necessary -condition. Alexander's army is his people, wholly bound up with him and -his command: it follows him rather in the relation of vassalage than -that of free will. In contrast to this the true vitality of the epic -consists in this, that both these fundamental aspects, the particular -action with its individual agents and the general world-condition, -while no doubt continuing under a mediated relation, yet in this -relation of reciprocity no less preserve their necessary independence -and thereby enforce themselves as one existing whole, at the same time -securing and possessing an independent entity.</p> - -<p>(<i>γγ</i>) In a previous passage we laid it down generally<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_157" id="Page_157">[Pg 157]</a></span> that in order -to have an individual action the substantive basis of epic poetry must -offer the opportunity of collisions, and furthermore observed, that the -general foundation must not appear as wholly independent but under the -form of a specific event; we may now add that it is in this individual -<i>événement</i> that we must seek the point of <i>departure</i> for the entire -epic poem. This is pre-eminently of importance for the situations -connected with its commencement. Here, too, we may take the Iliad and -Odyssey for models. In the first the Trojan war is placed before us -as the general background of contemporary life, but only so far as it -comprises the particular events connected with the wrath of Achilles. -And for this reason the poem commences without any possible confusion -with situations which excite the passion of the principal hero against -Agamemnon. In the Odyssey there are two classes of subject-matter which -determine the content of its opening, that is to say, the wanderings of -Odysseus and the domestic complications at Ithaca. Homer brings them -together by giving us briefly information concerning Odysseus on his -home-journey to the effect that he is detained by Calypso, and then at -once passes to the sorrows of Penelope and the voyage of Telemachus. We -are, consequently, able to review at one glance what obstacle stands -in way of the return, and what is consequently rendered necessary for -those left behind at home.</p> - -<p>(<i>β</i>) The advance, then, of the epic poem from a commencement such as -this is totally different from that of lyric or dramatic poetry.</p> - -<p>(<i>αα</i>) In the first place we should draw attention to the possibilities -of <i>extension</i> within the range of the Epos. These are quite as much -due to the form as they are to the content. We have already seen what -a variety of objects may be comprised in the world of the Epic as -fully elaborated, not merely in its ideal capacities, motives, and -aim, but also in respect to its objective situation and environment. -Inasmuch as all these aspects assume an objective form, an appearance -of reality, each one of them takes to itself a form of essentially -independent ideality and externality, in which the epic poet, either -in his exposition or description, is permitted freely to linger, and -to disclose in its positive appearance. The lyric, on the contrary, -con<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_158" id="Page_158">[Pg 158]</a></span>centrates all that it lays hold of within the ideal realm of the -emotions, or refines it away in the generalized vision of reflection. -In the objective world it is the immediate complex in juxtaposition, or -the varied wealth of manifold characteristics, which is presented us. -In this respect we find that in no other type of poetry is the claim -to introduce episodical matter, even to the point of to all appearance -absolute independence, more indisputable than in the Epos. The delight, -however, in actual fact for its own sake and in its natural form must, -as already observed, not be carried so far as to import into the -poem circumstances and facts which have no real connection with the -important action. Such episodes must assert themselves as effective in -the advance of such action, whether as events which are obstructive to -its course, or assistant in their mediation. Yet, despite of this, the -particular portions of the epic poem will be somewhat loosely bound -together. This is a necessary result of the mode of its objectivity. -For in what is objective mediation persists as the ideal essence; what -in contrast to this confronts the external aspect is the independent -existence of particular aspects. This defect in the direction of a -stringent unity and the emphasized relation of specific portions of the -epic poem, which, according to its primitive form, possesses moreover -a primitive period of origination, has this result, that it lends -itself more readily than lyric or dramatic compositions to subsequent -additions and continuations; and, further, it is enabled to appropriate -under its more recent and embracing whole even examples of the saga -which have already received artistic expression of a definite, if not -so exalted character.</p> - -<p>(<i>ββ</i>)<i>Secondly</i>, if we look at the way in which epic poetry may be -justified in its <i>motivisation</i> of the progress and course of events, -we shall find that it ought not either exclusively to take the ground -of what happens from the individual mood, nor yet from what is purely -personal character. In other words, it should not encroach upon -what is the proper sphere of the lyric and drama; it must, in this -respect too, adhere to the form of objectivity which constitutes the -fundamental epic type. We have, in fact, seen more than once previously -that external conditions were of no less importance, for an exposition -that takes the form of narr<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_159" id="Page_159">[Pg 159]</a></span>ative, than states of soul which revealed -character. In the Epos character and the necessary rational condition -coalesce completely on terms of equality, and the epic character may -therefore give way to external conditions, without impairing his poetic -individuality, may be, in short, in his action, the result of relations -in such a way that these appear as the predominant factor rather than -the exclusively effective character as we find it in the drama. We -find in the Odyssey that the progress of events is almost entirely -motived in this way. We find the same thing in the adventures of -Ariosto and other Epopees, where the material of the song is borrowed -from the the Middle Ages. The divine command, too, which induces Æneas -to found Rome, no less than the varied episodes which extend its -embrace over a wide field, would involve a type of motivisation wholly -uncongenial to the drama. A further illustration of this is Tasso's -"Jerusalem Delivered," in which, quite apart from the brave antagonism -of the Saracens, many a natural event is opposed to the object of -the Christian host. Such examples might be indefinitely multiplied -from almost all the more famous Epopees. And, indeed, it is precisely -material of this kind, in which an exposition of this type is possible -and necessary, that the epic poet ought to select.</p> - -<p>The same thing is effected where it is bound to appear as the result -of the actual decision of individuals. Here, too, we have neither -to assert nor to express that which the character in the dramatic -sense of the term—that is, according to his aim and the individual -passion which uniquely animates him—makes of the circumstances and -relations, in order to maintain his personality against this external -resistance no less than against other individuals. Rather the epic -character excludes this action viewed simply in reference to its -personal character, just as it excludes the tumult of purely subjective -states and feelings. Instead of this it cleaves fast, on the one -hand, to the circumstances and their reality; and on the other that, -whereby its movement is effected, must necessarily render explicit all -that is essentially valid, universal, and ethical. In Homer, as in -no other writer, we shall find inexhaustible material for pertinent -thought on this head. The lament of Hecuba over Hector, for instance, -or of Achilles over t<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_160" id="Page_160">[Pg 160]</a></span>he death of Patroclus—episodes which, so far -as content is concerned, would lend themselves admirably to lyric -treatment—are in Homer held throughout within the epic temper. And -to quite as little extent do we find this poet handle in dramatic -style situations which would primarily adapt themselves to dramatic -exposition, such as the conflict between Agamemnon and Achilles in the -council of the chiefs, or the parting of Hector and Andromache. Only to -glance at the last-mentioned scene, this belongs unquestionably to one -of the finest conceivable efforts of epic poetry. Even in Schiller's -dialogue between Amalia and Carl in "The Robbers," where the same -subject ought to be treated in the lyric vein throughout, we distinctly -hear an epic reverberation from the Iliad. How consummately epic in its -effect, however, is Homer's description in the sixth book of the Iliad -of the way in which Hector vainly seeks for Andromache at home, then -at last meets her on the way to the Scæan gate, how she hurries toward -him, and when close to him, as he looks with a peaceful smile on his -little boy lying on the arm of his nurse, exclaims: "Amazing man, thy -courage will destroy thee, and thou compassionest neither thy infant -boy nor me, hapless wight, who will soon be widowed of thee. Ay, for -soon the Achaeans will slay thee, storming against thee together. And -if I lose thee it were better for myself to pass beneath the earth. No -other comfort is left for me, but only sorrow, if thou art stricken by -fate! Neither have I my father any more, nor yet my lady mother." After -which she narrates at length all the story about her father and the -death of her seven brothers, all of whom Achilles had slain, also the -captivity, ransom, and decease of her mother. Then at length she turns -with earnest plea to Hector, who is henceforward to her father and -mother, brothers, and spouse in the bloom of life, and implores him to -remain on the walls, and not to make his son an orphan and his wife a -widow. Hector replies in much the same spirit: "All this is also a care -to me, wife; but I fear too much the Trojans, if I avoid the battle -here, like a coward; the eddy, too, of the moment worries me not, who -am wont to be ever dauntless, and to fight in the foremost ranks of the -Trojans, protecting the high fame of my father and mine own. Ay, well -indeed I wot, both in mind and soul, tha<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_161" id="Page_161">[Pg 161]</a></span>t the day will come in which -sacred Troy shall fall, as also Priam and the folk of the king cunning -with the spear. But I sorrow not so much for the Trojans, nor yet for -Hecuba herself and Priam, nor the brothers of my flesh, who shall fall -beneath the foe, as for thee, when some bronze-greaved Achæan shall -bear thee away, robbing thee of thy day of freedom, and thou shalt spin -from the flax of another in Argos, or wearily draw water, loth indeed, -but the might of necessity will be upon thee; and I doubt not there -will be someone who will say, as he sees thee weeping: 'See yonder -Hector's wife, the bravest of all who fought among the Trojans when the -fight was over Ilium.' Thus perchance shall someone speak; and woe will -come upon thee, that thou hast no longer such a husband, to fend thee -from such serfdom. As for myself, may the earth cover me, or ever I -hear thy bitter cry and thy carrying off." All that Hector says here is -full of feeling, pathetic enough, yet not merely expressed in a lyrical -or dramatic manner, but in the epic vein, inasmuch as the picture which -he outlines of suffering, and which brings pain to himself, in the -first place depicts circumstantially objective conditions as such, and -in the second place because all that affects and moves him does not -appear as personal volition, or individual resolve, but rather as a -necessity which is not at the same time his own aim and will. Of much -the same epic effect are the pleas with which the vanquished plead, as -they may on various grounds, for their life with their victors; for a -movement of the soul, which proceeds merely from circumstances, and -only attempts to affect us through the causative effect of objective -relations and situations, is not dramatic, although modern tragedians -from time to time also make use of such a type of effect. The scene, -for example, in Schiller's "Maid of Orleans," on the battle-field -between the English knight Montgomery and Joan,<a name="FNanchor_23_114" id="FNanchor_23_114"></a><a href="#Footnote_23_114" class="fnanchor">[23]</a> is, as others have -already justly observed, rather epic than dramatic. In the moment of -danger all courage forsakes the knight; yet, for all that, when pressed -by the fierce Talbot, who punishes cowardice with death, and the Ma<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_162" id="Page_162">[Pg 162]</a></span>id, -who conquers even the bravest, he is unable to have recourse to flight, -and exclaims:</p> - -<p style="margin-left: 10%;"> -O, wär ich nimmer über Meer hieher geschifft,<br /> -Ich unglücksel'ger! Eitler Wahn bethörte mich,<br /> -Wohlfeilen Ruhm zu suchen in dem Frankenkrieg,<br /> -Und jetzo führt mich das verderbliche Geschick<br /> -In diese blut'ge Mordschlacht. Wär ich weit von hier<br /> -Daheim noch an der Savern' bluhendem Gestad<br /> -Im sichern Vaterhause, we die Mutter mir.<br /> -In Gram zurückblieb und die zarte süsse Braut.<a name="FNanchor_24_115" id="FNanchor_24_115"></a><a href="#Footnote_24_115" class="fnanchor">[24]</a><br /> -</p> - -<p>Expressions such as these are unmanly, and make the figure of this -knight neither fit for the genuine Epos nor the tragic drama, are in -fact rather suggestive of comedy. And when Joan, after exclaiming,</p> - -<p style="margin-left: 10%;"> -Du bist des Todes! Eine britt'sche Mutter zeugte dich!<a name="FNanchor_25_116" id="FNanchor_25_116"></a><a href="#Footnote_25_116" class="fnanchor">[25]</a><br /> -</p> - -<p>advances towards him, he throws away sword and shield and pleads at her -feet for his life. The reasons he gives at length in order to arouse -her sympathy: his defencelessness; the wealth of his father, who would -ransom him with gold; the gentleness of the sex to which Joan belongs -as maid; the love of his sweet bride, who waits for his return home in -tears; the grief of the parents whom he has left at home; the grievous -fate of death unwept for in a foreign land—all these motives are -themselves, in one aspect of them, essentially objective conditions, -effective and of value as such, and on the other hand, the tranquil -exposition of them is itself in the epic vein. In the same way the -poet motives the condition, that Joan must hearken to him, through the -external circumstance of the defencelessness of the pleader, although -from the dramatic point of view she ought without delay and at the bare -sight to have slain him, being as she was the relentless foe of all -Englishmen, and in fact expresses such destructive hatred with every -resource of rhetoric, justifying her action by the statement that she -is bound with most fearful vow to the spirit-world.</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_163" id="Page_163">[Pg 163]</a></span></p> - -<p style="margin-left: 10%;"> -Mit dem Schwert zu tödten alles Lebende, das ihr<br /> -Der Schlachten Gott verhängnissvoll entgegenschickt.<a name="FNanchor_26_117" id="FNanchor_26_117"></a><a href="#Footnote_26_117" class="fnanchor">[26]</a><br /> -</p> - -<p>If the point of importance to the maid were merely that Montgomery -ought not to die defenceless, he possessed apparently an excellent -means in his grasp of retaining his life; in other words he had merely -to refuse to take up his weapons. This view is supported by the fact -that Joan has already listened to him so long. Yet when she demands -that he should fight for his life with her, of mortal flesh like -himself, he again takes up his sword and falls by her hand. Such a -<i>development</i> of the scene had been more in keeping with the drama had -it dispensed with all this varied epic exposition.</p> - -<p>(<i>γγ</i>) In general, then, we may characterize the type in which we -have the poetic passage of epic events set before us in the following -way, namely, that the epic presentation does not merely linger over -the picture of objective reality and ideal conditions, but over and -above this provides <i>obstacles</i> to a final solution. This not only -applies to its relation to the wide field of external condition, to -which the more immediate vision enforces us, but also in respect -to the culminating movement of the action, more especially in its -contrast to dramatic poetry. For this reason above all it diverts us -from the execution of the fundamental purpose, the connected course -of whose evolved conflict a dramatic poet ought never to lose sight -of, into much digressive matter; and, moreover, by this means avails -itself of the opportunity, to bring before our vision the complex -unity of a world of circumstances, which otherwise could not have -been expressed in speech. We have an illustration of such an obstacle -in the beginning of the Iliad. Homer here at once tells us about the -fatal sickness, which Apollo had spread throughout the Greek camp, -and connects with it the strife between Achilles and Agamemnon. This -wrath is the second impediment. Even more obviously in the Odyssey is -every adventure that Odysseus has to pass through, a delay to his home -return. More particularly,<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_164" id="Page_164">[Pg 164]</a></span> however, the distinct episode serves to -interrupt the unimpaired progression of the story, and is to a great -extent an obstacle to this. Such, for instance, is the shipwreck of -Æneas, his love for Dido, the appearance of Armida in Tasso, and we may -add as a rule the many independent love affairs of particular heroes -in the romantic Epos, which, in the poetry of Ariosto, accumulate and -interlace with such profusion, that the conflict between Christian and -Saracen is thereby entirely hidden. In the "Divine Comedy" of Dante -we do not find such definite examples of obstruction to the plot or -narrative. In this case we must associate the slow advance of the Epic -denouement partly with the generally pausing manner of the description, -and in part with the many little episodical histories and conversations -with particular characters, whether damned or otherwise, about whom the -poet permits himself more detailed information.</p> - -<p>In this connection it is above all things necessary that impediments -of this description, which interfere with the flow of narrative to its -final end, should not be presented as though they were merely means -directed to objects of an objective character. For inasmuch as already -the general condition, on the basis of which the movement of the epic -world is carried forward, is only truly poetical where it appears as a -self-constructed growth, so too its entire course, either in virtue of -circumstances or the inherent destiny, must also appear self-originated -without our being able to detect thereby the personal views of -the poet; and this is all the more so because, in the form of its -objectivity—not merely under its aspects of phenomenal reality, but -also in respect to the substantive character of its content—it claims -for the whole no less than its divisible content that it is a positive -growth, spontaneous in its origin and independent. If, however, a -directive world of gods is its apex, controlling the course of events, -it is even more necessary that the poet himself should possess a lively -and vivid faith in them, because in that case it is generally through -the instrumentality of these that obstructions such as we have referred -to are asserted; consequently where these divine forces are treated -merely as some lifeless mechanism, it is inevitable that everything -for which they are responsible must equally become so in a poetic -composition which is artificial even in intention.</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_165" id="Page_165">[Pg 165]</a></span></p> - -<p>(<i>γ</i>) Having thus briefly adverted to the totality of objects, which -the Epos is able to unfold by interweaving a particular event with a -universal national world-condition, and, further, having discussed -the manner in which the course of events is developed, we have now, -<i>thirdly</i>, and in conclusion, to examine the problem as to the nature -of the <i>unity</i> and <i>rounding off</i> of an epic composition.</p> - -<p>(<i>αα</i>) This is a point all the more important for the reason that in -our own day people are ready to take up the view that we may end an -Epic as we like, or continue it just as capriciously. Although this is -the opinion of men of talent and learning—it is in fact the contention -of F. N. Wolff—it remains none the less a crude and illiterate view. -It in fact amounts to nothing less than excluding from the finest -ethic compositions any genuine character of artistic composition. For -it is only in virtue of the fact that an Epos depicts an essentially -exclusive, and thereby, for the firs time independent world, that it -is at all a work of fine art in contrast to what is, in part, the -diffuse, and, in part, the finite, series of independent sections, -causes, effects, and other modes of self-causative reality. One can, -of course, so far admit that for the genuine and primitive Epos the -wholly aesthetic review of the design and organization of the parts, -of the position and completion of the episodes, of the kind of similes -employed, and so forth, this is not the point of most importance, -inasmuch as here, more than in lyrical poetry of a later date, and -its artificial elaboration of the drama, the general world-outlook, -the faith in divine beings, and, in a word, what is most essential in -such national Bibles, must be expressed as the aspect of most weight. -Nevertheless, these great national books, such as are the Ramajana, the -Iliad, and the Odyssey, and even the "Song of the Nibelings," ought not -to lose that quality which alone, in respect to both their beauty and -their art, can endow them with the worth and freedom of artistic works, -the quality, that is, whereby they bring before our vision a complete -sphere of action. What we have simply to do, therefore, is to discover -the appropriate form of this exclusive unity.</p> - -<p>(<i>ββ</i>) The term Unity, if employed in this general sens<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_166" id="Page_166">[Pg 166]</a></span>e, has become -a very commonplace one even for tragedy, one capable of much misuse. -For every event, in its causes and effects, creates an infinite chain, -which, in the direction of the past no less than the future, and in -a way that is in both directions incalculable, leads to a further -series of particular circumstances and actions, it being impossible -to determine all that may form part of the circumstances and detail -in other respects, or the mode of their coalescence. If we merely -confine our attention to this series, no doubt an Epos may be extended -backwards and forwards indefinitely; and, over and above this such -always offers opportunity for digression. But it is just such a series -as this which makes the composition prosaic. To adduce an example the -Greek cyclic poets have celebrated the entire cyclus of the Trojan -war, and in doing so continue at the point where Homer stops, with a -beginning, too, from the egg of Leda. But it is precisely on account -of this that they degenerate into prose, if we contrast them with -Homer's compositions. Just as little—I have already drawn attention -to this—can an individual as such surrender the central focus of his -unity, inasmuch as it is from this that the most varied events issue, -and are able to effect a union in the same, though they may be entirely -without connection regarded simply as events. We have consequently -to seek for another type of unity. In this respect we must briefly -determine the distinction between a mere <i>event</i>, and a <i>definite -action</i>, which accepts the form of event in the epic narrative. We -may define a mere event as the external aspect and realization of -every human action, without involving with it the execution of a -particular end; or, in general terms, we may call it every external -modification in the form and appearance of what actually exists. When -anyone is struck by lightning, that is a mere event, an external -occurrence. More is implied in the sack of a hostile city; we have here -the fulfilment of a predeterminate purpose. An essentially distinct -object of this kind, such as the liberation of the Holy Land from the -yoke of the Saracens and heathen, or better still the satisfaction of -a specific impulse, such as the wrath of Achilles, must, under the -mode of the epic eventuality, constitute the synthetic unity of the -Epopaea; and by this I mean that the poetic narrative must restrict -itself to that which <span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_167" id="Page_167">[Pg 167]</a></span>is uniquely the effect of this conceived purpose -or specific impulse, and in this co-operation be rounded off in an -essentially exclusive unity. Action and execution of this type is, -however, only possible to human agency; so that, as the culminating -point of our composition, we must have in progressive conjunction -with purpose and impulse a <i>human personality.</i> Furthermore, if the -action and satisfaction of the entire heroic character, from which both -purpose and impulse proceed, are merely the result of wholly definite -situations and motives, which are dissipated as we look back in an -extensive complexity of relation, and if, further, the execution of the -purpose, as we look forward, carries with it a variety of result, then -in that case on the one hand no doubt a large number of presuppositions -will be involved with such a specific action, and on the other hand we -shall have many effects of reaction, which, however, will not be placed -in any more intimate poetic connection with just this determinate -character of the end under exposition. In this sense, for instance, -the wrath of Achilles has as little connection with the rape of Helen -or the judgment of Paris, although the one fact is presupposed in the -other, as it has with the actual sack of Troy. When, therefore, it is -contended that the Iliad neither possesses a necessary beginning, nor -an appropriate conclusion, such a verdict is due to an inability to see -distinctly that it is the wrath of Achilles which is the main subject -of the Iliad, and which consequently should supply the focus-point of -unity. If, on the contrary, we form a stable conception of the heroic -figure of Achilles, and assume that this, as asserted in the wrath -aroused in him by Agamemnon, is the connecting thread of the whole, -we shall be unable to conceive either a beginning or termination of -greater beauty. It is, as I have already pointed out, the direct motive -of this anger, which forms the poem's commencement; the consequences -of the same are comprised in all that follows. Against this critics -have attempted to enforce the view that in such a case the last cantos -are irrelevant, and might just as well be omitted. Such an opinion, if -we look at the poem itself, is untenable. For just as the dallying of -Achilles himself by the ships and his abstinence from the conflict are -purely the result of<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_168" id="Page_168">[Pg 168]</a></span> his indignant wrath, and are in this inactivity -bound up closely with the almost immediate success of the Trojans over -the Grecian host, no less than with the fight and death of Patroclus, -so, too, the lament and revenge of the noble Achilles and his victory -over Hector is closely linked with this fall of his brave friend. If in -the previous opinion it is implied that death is the end of everything, -and after that we may as well pack and be off, such a view merely -indicates extreme crudity of imaginative conception. With the idea of -death it is merely <i>Nature</i> that is brought to a standstill; man is not -so, nor yet are the obligations of his <i>ethical life</i> and <i>habit</i>,<a name="FNanchor_27_118" id="FNanchor_27_118"></a><a href="#Footnote_27_118" class="fnanchor">[27]</a> -with their claim of honourable recognition for the fallen hero. In this -sense the sports that form part of the funeral rites of Patroclus, -the heartrending pleas of Priam, the reconciliation of Achilles, who -returns the father the corpse of his son, in order that in this case, -too, honour to the dead may not be absent, each and all are connected -with the previous events, and contribute to the supreme and satisfying -beauty of the narrative's conclusion.</p> - -<p>(<i>γγ</i>) Inasmuch, however, as we have attempted above to make a -specifically individual action, which issues in accordance with a -deliberate purpose or heroic impulses, conform to the type of an epic -whole in which focal points are ascertainable that bind it together -and round off its completeness, the view is at least possible that -we have made the <i>unity</i> of the Epos too nearly identical with that -of the <i>drama.</i> For in the drama also it is <i>one</i> particular line of -action issuing from self-conceived purpose and character with its -conflict which constitutes the focal centre. In order, therefore, -not to involve these two types of poetry, the epos, that is, and the -drama, in confusion, though the confusion merely appear to be such, I -will yet again draw the reader's attention emphatically to my previous -explanation of the distinction between human action and event. And -quite apart from this the epic interest is not simply confined to -those characters, objects, and situations which have their ground -in the particular action as such, whose progress is the subject of -the epic narrative, but this action possesses the further stimulus -to its opposed factors and their resolution, and in fact is directed -throughout its course and exclusively within a <i>national</i> and<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_169" id="Page_169">[Pg 169]</a></span> -<i>collective whole</i>, or substantive content, which claims on its own -account to assert a variety of characters, conditions, and events. In -this respect the final consummation of the Epos does not merely consist -in the particular content of the predominant action selected, but quite -as much in the entire synthesis of the <i>general world-survey</i> whose -objective reality it undertakes to depict; in fact, the epic unity is -only then fully complete when the particular action, from one point of -view no doubt, in its independent character, but also from another, -regarded in its progression as the essentially rounded world within -the sphere of which it moves, is placed before us as one indissoluble -totality; and both of these spheres, or aspects of one sphere, repose -together in the mediating fulness and unimpaired unity of very life.</p> - -<p>Such, then, are the most essential characteristics we find it possible, -within the limits accepted, to draw attention to in respect to the -genuine Epos.</p> - -<p>It is, however, possible to apply the same form of objectivity to -other subject-matter, whose content does not carry with it the true -significance of genuine objectivity. It is very possible that a -theorist in Art will feel embarrassment when, with such modes of speech -before him, he is asked to make a classification adapted to all poems -without distinction; and we must not forget that under the generic term -of poem these hybrid forms have also to be reckoned. In any really -just classification, however, we ought only to include that which only -conforms with a definition of the generic notion.<a name="FNanchor_28_119" id="FNanchor_28_119"></a><a href="#Footnote_28_119" class="fnanchor">[28]</a> All that is, on -the contrary, incomplete in content or form, or both, precisely for the -reason that it is not as it ought to be, is only subsumed defectively -under the notion, or in other words under the definition, which gives -us the thing as it ought to be, and in truth actually is. I only -propose, therefore, in conclusion and by way of supplement, to add a -few observations upon such subordinate and collateral branches of the -true epic composition.</p> - -<p>To this class of poetry above all the <i>idyll</i> belongs in the modern -sense of that term, viz., that in which poetry stands aloof from the -profounder interests of spiritual and ethical life, and depicts mankind -in its innocence. Innocent life in this sense amounts to little more -than an ignorance of<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_170" id="Page_170">[Pg 170]</a></span> everything except eating and drinking. We may -add that what we eat and drink here is extremely simple, it is goat's -milk merely, or sheep's milk, or at the most cow's milk, roots, acorns, -vegetables, and cheese made from milk. I should say that bread is no -longer in the truly idyllic sphere; we must, however, allow to it -flesh-eating; for it is hardly possible that our idyllic shepherds and -shepherdesses could have wished to sacrifice their herds exclusively -to the gods. Their occupation will consist in looking the whole day -long after their beloved herds with their faithful hound, in providing -their food and drink, and along with this giving vent, with as much -sentimental feeling as possible, to every kind of mood which does not -disturb this condition of repose and contentment. In a word, they are -satisfied with their peculiar piety and gentleness, piping away on -their reed or oat-pipes, warbling to each other, and above all making -love with the greatest tenderness and innocence.</p> - -<p>The Greeks, on the contrary, possessed in their plastic representations -a more jubilant world, with its attendants of Bacchus, Satyrs and -Fauns, who, in their harmless service of a god, stimulated animal -life and human joviality with a vivacity and truth totally different -from the above pretentious innocence, piety, and emptiness. We may -also recognize the same essentially animated outlook on the world as -illustrated in lively pictures of national condition, in the Greek -Bucolic poets such as Theocritus; this is so whether our poet lingers -over actual situations of the life of fisher-folk, or shepherds, -or extends the mode in which he expresses this, or similar spheres -of life, to a yet wider circle, either depicting such states in an -epic form, or treating them in lyric form and that of the objective -drama. Virgil already sings to us with less warmth in his Eclogues. -Most tedious of all, however, is Gessner, so tedious that I suppose -no one reads him nowadays. We can only wonder that the French ever -had so much taste for him that they even ranked him highest among -German poets. Their morbid sensibility on the one hand, which evades -the tumult and changes of life, while yearning also for some kind of -movement, and on the other the absence of all true interest in such -poetry, so that the otherwise disturbing influences of our culture were -not represented—both of these factors, no doubt, contributed to this -preference.</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_171" id="Page_171">[Pg 171]</a></span></p> - -<p>We may reckon as a further class of this hybrid type of Epic those -poems which are half description and half lyrics, a favourite type -with the English, and one which for the most part accepts for its -subject-matter Nature, the Seasons, and similar subjects. We may also -associate with this type the various <i>didactic</i> poems concerned with -physical science, astronomy, medicine, chess, fishing, and hunting—in -short, the art which loves to elaborate in a poetic form what is really -the content of prose, an art which has been cultivated with much talent -in later Greek poetry, and after that by the Romans, and, in our time, -pre-eminently by the French. Such poetry, despite its general epic -temper, will very readily pass over into the lyric treatment.</p> - -<p>The <i>romances</i> and <i>ballads</i>, which we find both in the Middle Ages and -modern times, are no doubt poetry of a kind, though it is impossible to -define accurately their type; so far as their content is concerned they -are in part epic. If we look at the form of their composition, however, -they are for the most part lyrical, so that we have perforce to reckon -them from different points of view to different types.</p> - -<p>The <i>romantic</i> novel, that Epopaea of <i>modern society</i>, opens a -different field altogether. In this we possess, on the one hand, in -all its completeness and variety, an epic prodigality of interests, -conditions, characters, and living relations, the extensive background -in fact of an entire world. We have also the epic exposition of events. -What fails us here is the <i>primitive</i> world-condition as poetically -conceived, which is the source of the genuine Epos. The romance or -novel in the modern sense pre-supposes a basis of reality already -organized in its <i>prosaic form</i>, upon which it then attempts, in its -own sphere, so far as this is possible from such a general point of -view, both in its treatment of the vital character of events and the -life of individuals and their destiny, to make good once more the -banished claims of poetical vision. For this reason one of the most -common collisions in the novel, and one most suitable to it, is the -conflict between the poetry of the heart and the prose of external -conditions antagonistic to it, including with such the contingency -such imply. This is a conflict which may be resolved on the lines of -tragedy or comedy, or finds its settlement in the two<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_172" id="Page_172">[Pg 172]</a></span>fold conclusion, -first, that the characters which in the first instance contend with -the ordinary course of life are taught to recognize in it what is -the genuine heart of things, becoming thereby reconciled to their -conditions and ready to cooperate with them; and, secondly, that they -learn how to brush away the purely prosaic aspect of all that they do -and accomplish, and thereby replace the prose which they have found -there with a reality allied and congenial to beauty and art. In so -far as the form of the exposition is concerned, the genuine romance -pre-supposes, precisely as the Epos does, the synthesized purvey of -the world and life as one whole, the manifold contents of which are -manifested within the reach of the individual event which supplies -the focal centre of the entire complexus. In his attitude to detail, -however, the poet must here permit himself a freer play both of -conception and execution, and all the more so because he is here less -able to avoid the prose of actual life in his descriptions, though this -freedom should not make him any more inclined to dwell exclusively in -such an atmosphere of prose and ordinary occurrence.</p> - - -<h5>3. THE HISTORICAL DEVELOPMENT OF EPIC POETRY</h5> - -<p>In looking back upon the course of our previous consideration of -the other arts, we find that we reviewed the different stages of -the art of <i>building</i> throughout in their historical development as -successively in symbolic, classic, and romantic architecture. In the -case of sculpture, on the contrary, we accepted the Greek type, by -virtue of its complete identity with the notion of this <i>classic</i> -art, as the real focal centre, from which we proceeded to develop -the specific characteristics of importance, so that here we did not -find it necessary to extend so far as in the previous case the range -of our historical survey. This contrast is further illustrated in -our treatment of the <i>romantic</i> art-character of painting, which, -however,<a name="FNanchor_29_120" id="FNanchor_29_120"></a><a href="#Footnote_29_120" class="fnanchor">[29]</a> not merely in respect to the fundamental notion of its -content, but also in that of the mode of its presentation, embraces -an equally<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_173" id="Page_173">[Pg 173]</a></span> wide and important range of development in different -nations and through different schools, so that in this case it was -necessary to make our reference to history more extensive and varied. -The nature of the art of music invited us to historical comparisons of -the same kind. Inasmuch, however, as I have neither obtained access -to the foreign literature dealing with the history of this art, nor -can claim personally to possess the adequate knowledge, I have been -forced to restrict myself to the mere outlines of what is required -incidentally. With regard to our immediate subject, that is, <i>epic</i> -poetry, the course of our enquiry will be very much that followed in -the case of sculpture. In other words, though the mode of exposition -branches off in several direct or collateral divisions, and embraces -many historical periods and peoples, yet we have already recognized in -the Epos of Greek literature the genuine type of it in its consummate -form and most artistic mode of realization. And the reason of this -is that in general the Epos possesses the closest affinity with the -plastic of sculpture and its objective presence; and, not merely in -respect to its substantive content, but equally so in the form of its -presentation as that of phenomenal reality. It is therefore by no means -simply an accident that we find epic poetry, no less than the art of -sculpture, assert itself pre-eminently among the Greeks in its original -and unsurpassed perfection. Stages of development, no doubt, are to be -met with on either side of this culminating point, stages which are -neither intrinsically subordinate or insignificant, but are necessary -conditions of the art's growth, inasmuch as all nations are essentially -within the sphere of poetic creation, and it is above all the Epos -which brings before us the heart and core of the national life. And -for this reason, the historical development of the Epic is of greater -importance than was the case with sculpture.</p> - -<p>We may then classify the entire compass of epic poetry, or, to express -ourselves more accurately, of the Epopaea, in three fundamental stages; -and these, speaking generally, constitute the course of the art's -evolution.</p> - -<p><i>Firsts</i> we have the Oriental Epos, which makes the symbolic type its -focal centre.</p> - -<p><i>Secondly</i>, there is the classical Epos of the Greeks, with its -imitation in Roman authors.</p> - -<p><i>Finally,</i><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_174" id="Page_174">[Pg 174]</a></span> we have the abundant and many-sided unfolding of -epic-romantic poetry among Christian peoples; which, however, in -the first instance appears in Teutonic paganism; and again, from -another point of view, that is quite apart from what we may style the -chivalrous poetry of the Middle Ages, we find the old classic world -active in another province of life as instrumental to the purification -of literary taste or style, or still more directly utilized as a model, -until finally the modern romance replaces the Epos altogether.</p> - -<p>We may now proceed to some review of single epic compositions: in this -it will only be possible to emphasize what is of most importance; and, -generally speaking, I can only pretend to give a rapid outline of this -field in the space at my disposal.</p> - -<p>(<i>a</i>) In the case of Oriental peoples the art of poetry is, as we have -already observed, generally of a more primitive type, inasmuch as it -remains more closely related to what we may style the essential<a name="FNanchor_30_121" id="FNanchor_30_121"></a><a href="#Footnote_30_121" class="fnanchor">[30]</a> -mode of envisagement, and the diffusion of the individual consciousness -in the sublime Unity of the <i>One.</i> And because of this, as a further -aspect, and relatively to the specific divisions of poetic composition, -it is unable to work out individual personality in the self-subsistency -of determinate characterization, with its aims and collisions, an -elaboration which is of first importance in the composition of genuine -dramatic poetry. The most essential result therefore we meet with here -is limited—if we exclude from attention an endearing, sweet-scented, -and delicate type of lyric, or one that uplifts itself to the one -unutterable God—to poems, which are to be counted of the epic mould. -Nevertheless it is only among the Hindoos and the Persians that we come -across the genuine Epopaea; but here at least we do meet it in colossal -proportions.</p> - -<p>(<i>α</i>) The Chinese, on the contrary, possess no national Epos. The -prosaic basis of their imaginative vision, which even to the earliest -origins of history offers the jejune form of a prosaically organized -historical reality, opposes from the first to this the most noble -type of epic composition an insuperable obstruction. The religious -conceptions of this people, little adapted as they are to artistic -configuration, contribute to the same result. We find, however, at a<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_175" id="Page_175">[Pg 175]</a></span> -later date and as some compensation, for their elaboration is most -profuse, little narratives, and romances spun out to great length, -which astound us by the vividness in which situations are realized, -the accuracy with which private and public relations are depicted, -the variety, fine breeding, or rather I should say frequently the -fascinating tenderness they display, more particularly in their female -characters, and in short by the art in every respect which succeeds in -making works so consummate.</p> - -<p>(<i>β</i>) A world of great contrast to the above presents itself in the -Hindoo Epopaea. We find already in the most primitive compositions, -if we may form an opinion from the little made known to the general -public up to the present time from the Veda, most fruitful germs for -a mythology fitted to epic exposition; and these, associated with the -heroic exploits of men many centuries before Christ—for chronological -accuracy is still impossible—are elaborated into genuine Epopaea, -works, however, which are still composed in part from the wholly -religious point of view, and in part from that of unfettered poetry and -art. Pre-eminently do the two most famous of these poems, namely the -Ramajana and the Maha-Bharata, place before us the entire world-outlook -of the Hindoo race in all its splendour and glory, its confusion, -fantastical absurdity and dissolution, and withal, from the reverse -point of view, in the exuberant loveliness and the here and there fine -traits of heart and emotion, which characterize the profuse vegetation -of its spiritual growth. Mythical exploits of men are expanded into the -actions of incarnate gods, whose deed hovers vaguely between the divine -and human nature, and the determinate outlines of personality and -exploit are dissolved in an infinitude of extension. The substantive -bases of the whole are of a type such as our Western world-outlook, -assuming that it does not choose to surrender the higher claims of -freedom and morality, is neither able to find itself truly at home -in or to sympathize with. The unity of the particular parts is of an -extremely unstable kind; and layers upon layers of episodical matter, -consisting of tales of the gods, narratives of ascetic penances, and -the powers they create, tediously long expositions of <span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_176" id="Page_176">[Pg 176]</a></span>philosophical -doctrines and systems, so entirely impair the collective unity that we -are forced to regard many of them as later accretions. But, however -this may be, the spirit from which these stupendous poems have -originated bears constant witness to an imagination, which is not only -anterior to all prosaic culture, but as a rule is wholly incompatible -with the faculty of ordinary common sense, and is capable in fact of -endowing the fundamental tendencies of this national consciousness, in -its essentially unique and collective conception of the universe, with -an original artistic form. The later Epics, on the contrary, which are -called <i>Puranas</i>, in the more restricted sense of the term, that is, -poems of the Past, appear rather to be compiled in the prosaic and dull -style similar to that adopted by post-Homeric cyclic poets, and pursue -their downward course at great length from the creation of the gods and -the universe to the genealogies of human heroes and princes. Finally -the epic care of the old myths dissolves into vapour and artificial -elegance of a purely external poetic form and diction, while on the -one hand the phantasy, which exhausted itself in a dreamy wonderland, -becomes the wisdom of fables whose most important function is to -instruct us in morality and worldly wisdom.</p> - -<p>(<i>γ</i>) We may compare side by side in a <i>third</i> division of epic -Oriental poetry that respectively belonging to Hebrews, Arabs, and -Persians.</p> - -<p>(<i>αα</i>) The sublimity of the Jewish imagination no doubt in its -conception of the Creation, in the histories of the Patriarchs, the -wandering in the wilderness, <i>the</i> conquest of Canaan, and in the -further historical course of national event, full as such a vision -is of sterling content and natural truth, possesses many elements -of primitive epic poetry; the religious interest is here, however, -so predominant, that, instead of being genuine Epopaea, they merely -approximate either to religious myths in the guise of poetry, or to -religious narratives which are wholly didactic.</p> - -<p>(<i>ββ</i>) The Arabs have always possessed a poetic nature, and from very -early days we find genuine poets among them. Even their heroic songs -of lyric narrative, styled the moallakat, which in part originate in -the century immediately previous to Mahomet, depict either with a few -bold and<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_177" id="Page_177">[Pg 177]</a></span> detached strokes and vehement ostentation, or at other times -with more tranquil self-possession, or a melting softness, the original -conditions of the still pagan Arabs. Here we find the honour of the -clan, the passion of revenge, the rights of hospitality, love, delight -in adventure, benevolence, sorrow, and yearning, in undiminished -strength, and in traits which remind us of the romantic character of -Spanish chivalry. Here, too, we meet with in the East for the first -time a real poetry, without fantastic elements, or prose, without -mythology, without gods, demons, fairies, genii, and everything else of -the kind common to the East, but rather with solid and self-sufficient -characters and, however unique and marvellous in the play of its images -and similes, yet for all that humanly real and self-contained. We have -the vision of a similar pagan world also set before us by a later age -in the collected poems of Hamasa, as also in the not yet edited "Divans -of the Hudsilites." After the extensive and successful conquests of the -Mohammedan Arabs this primitive heroic character gradually disappears; -and, in the course of the centuries, the province of Epic poetry is -replaced in part by the instructive fable and the witty proverb, in -part by the fairy-like narratives, of which the "Thousand and One -Nights" is an example, or in those tales of adventures which Rückert, -through a translation which reproduces for us the equally witty and -artistically elaborate Macamen of the Hariri in their metre, rhymes, -and articulate meaning, has unveiled in a manner deserving thoughtful -attention.</p> - -<p>(<i>γγ</i>) In some contrast to this the efflorescence of Persian -poetry falls in the period of that reconstructed culture effected -by the change of language and nationality under the influence of -Mohammedanism. We, however, come across, in the very first opening of -this lonely springtime, an epic poem which, at least in its material, -takes us back to the remotest Past of ancient Persian saga and myth, -and carries forward its narrative through the heroic age right down -to the last days of the Sussanides. This comprehensive work is the -Shahnameh of Firdusi, the son of the gardener of Tus, a work the -origins of which are traceable to the Bastanameh.<a name="FNanchor_31_122" id="FNanchor_31_122"></a><a href="#Footnote_31_122" class="fnanchor">[31]</a> We are, however, -unable to call even this<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_178" id="Page_178">[Pg 178]</a></span> poem a genuine Epopaea, because it does not -make any specific and individual line of action its focal centre. On -account of the lapse of centuries we lose our hold of the costume -appropriate to an age or a locality, and in particular the most ancient -mythical figures and gloomy intricate traditions hover in a world of -the phantasy, among the indefinite outlines of which we are often at a -loss to know whether we are face to face with persons or entire clans; -and then again we are often suddenly confronted with really historical -characters. As a Mohammedan the poet was no doubt able to handle his -subject-matter more freely; but it is just in this type of freedom -that we fail to meet with the stability in definite characterization, -as it was present in the design of the primitive heroic songs; and, on -account of the great gulf which separates him from that long-buried -world of saga, the freshness and breath of its immediate life vanish, -though absolutely necessary to the national Epos.</p> - -<p>In its further course the epic art of the Persians expands into -Love-epopees of excessive softness and sweetness, as an author of which -Risami is pre-eminently distinguished. It further makes use of its -rich stores of life-experience in the interest of the teacher. In this -sphere the far-travelled Saadi was master. Finally, it plunges into -that pantheistic Mysticism, which Dschelaleddin Rumi recommends and -teaches in tales and legendary narrative.</p> - -<p>I must, I fear, restrict myself to the above sketch.</p> - -<p>(<i>b</i>) In the poetry of <i>Greece</i> and <i>Rome</i> we find ourselves for the -first time in the genuine sphere of epic art.</p> - -<p>(<i>α</i>) Among these above all are included of course the <i>Homeric</i> poems, -which we have already noted as the culminating point of all.</p> - -<p>(<i>αα</i>) Either of these poems, despite all that may be advanced to the -contrary, is essentially self-complete, so definite and sensitive to -its construction as a whole, that in my own opinion the very view -which regards the present form of both as merely that in which they -were sung and handed down to posterity by rhapsodists, simply amounts -to little more than the just eulogy of such works in virtue of the -fact that they are, with regard to the entire atmos<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_179" id="Page_179">[Pg 179]</a></span>phere of their -content, national and realistic, and even in their particular parts -are so consummately finished, that all and each of them may be taken -as a whole in itself. Whereas in the East what is substantive<a name="FNanchor_32_123" id="FNanchor_32_123"></a><a href="#Footnote_32_123" class="fnanchor">[32]</a> and -universal in the poet's survey still impairs the individuality of -character, and its aims and exploits by its symbolism or deliberate -instruction, and thereby injures the definite articulation and unity of -the whole. Here for the first time in these poems<a name="FNanchor_33_124" id="FNanchor_33_124"></a><a href="#Footnote_33_124" class="fnanchor">[33]</a>we find a world -beautifully suspended as it were between the general life-conditions of -morality in family, state and religious belief, and the individuality -of distinctive character, and in this fair balance between the claims -of spirit and Nature, intentional action and objective event, between a -national basis of enterprise and particular aims and deeds, even though -individual heroes appear as the predominant feature in their free and -animated movement, yet this too is so mediated by the distinctiveness -of the aims proposed and the severe presence of destiny, that the -entire exposition can only remain even for ourselves the <i>ne plus -ultra</i> of all attainment that we can either enjoy or admire in epic -composition. For we find no difficulty here in recognizing the real -significance of even the gods who withstand or assist these primitive -masculine heroes in their bravery, their straightforward and noble -actions: nor can we fail to return the merry smiles of an art which -depicts them as we see them here in all the <i>naïveté</i> of their very -human, if also godlike impersonations.</p> - -<p>(<i>ββ</i>) The <i>cyclic</i> poets of an age subsequent to the Homeric poems -depart more and more from this genuine type of epic poetry. On the one -hand the tendency here is to break up the completeness of the national -world-survey into its petty provinces and aspects; and from another -point of view, instead of retaining a firm grasp of the poetic unity -and distinctive character of an individual action, to insist more -exclusively on the completeness of events as an historical series, -or on the unity of the personality, and by so doing to assimilate -epic poetry with the already emphasized historical impulse of the -logographers in their historical compilations.</p> - -<p>(<i>γγ</i>) Finally Epic poetry of a still later date after the time of -Alexander either turns aside to the more limited province of bucolic -poetry, or introduces more lear<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_180" id="Page_180">[Pg 180]</a></span>ning and artifice than is compatible -with the truly poetic Epopaea being at last wholly didactic, a type -which increasingly suffers to escape every vestige of the primitive -freshness, simplicity and animation.</p> - -<p>(<i>β</i>) This characteristic, with which the Epos of the Greeks -terminates, is from the first predominant among the <i>Romans.</i> An epic -Bible, such as are the Homeric poems, we shall therefore seek for here -in vain, however much critics have attempted, even quite recently, to -resolve the most ancient Roman history into national Epopaea. On the -other hand, even from the earliest times, along with genuine epic art, -of which our finest extant example here is the Æneid, the historical -Epos and the didactic poem supplies us with a proof that it is the -Romans who are mainly responsible for the elaboration of that province -of poetry which is already half prose; just as also it was in their -hands that the <i>satire</i> received its most perfect form, being also that -most congenial to their character.</p> - -<p>(<i>c</i>) For this reason epic poetry could only be infused with a fresh -breath and spirit through a change in its outlook on the world and in -its religious belief, and through the actions and destinies of new -nationalities. This is what we have in the case of the <i>Germans</i>, -not only as we see them in their primitive paganism, but also after -their conversion to Christianity. It may be further illustrated by -the Romance nations and all the more strongly, in proportion as their -subdivision into groups is more complete, and the principle of the -Christian view of life and reality is unfolded in all its various -phases. Yet it is precisely this many-sided expansion and subdivision -which oppose to a brief survey great difficulties. I will consequently -only draw attention to and emphasize fundamental tendencies.</p> - -<p>(<i>α</i>) In our <i>first</i> group we may reckon the residue of genuine poetry, -which later nationalities have still retained from an age previous -to Christianity, for the most part by means of oral tradition, and -consequently not wholly unimpaired.</p> - -<p>We may include above all among these the poems which are usually -ascribed to <i>Ossian.</i> Although English critics of repute, such as -Johnson and Shaw, have been blind enough<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_181" id="Page_181">[Pg 181]</a></span> to publish them as the sole -composition of Macpherson, it is none the less wholly impossible that -a poet of our own time could create from his own resources alone such -ancient social conditions and events; consequently we must presuppose -here previous poems as the foundation of such a work, although too -in their entire atmosphere, and the mode of conception and feeling -expressed in them, many changes more in accord with our modern life may -have been introduced in the course of so many centuries. It is true -their actual date is not established; they may, however, very well have -retained a vital form in the mouth of the folk for one thousand or even -fifteen hundred years. Taking them as a whole their form appears to -be predominantly lyric. Ossian is here presented as the old minstrel -and hero, who has lost his sight, and suffers in a retrospect of -lament, the days of glory to rise before him. Yet although his songs -originate in woe and mourning they nevertheless are in themselves -fundamentally epic; for even these lamentations refer to what has been, -and depict this world which has now just vanished, with its heroes, its -love-adventurers, its exploits, its expeditions aver sea and land, its -chance of arms, its destiny and its downfall, in just the same epic and -realistic way—although broken here and there with lyrics—as we find -in Homer the heroes Achilles, Odysseus, or Diomede, talking of their -exploits, expeditions, and mischances. Yet the development of spiritual -emotion, and indeed of the entire national existence, despite the fact -that here heart and sentiment have a more exacting rôle to play, is -not carried so far as in Homer's case. Most of all we miss the assured -plastic form of his characterization and the daylight clarity of his -presentment. We are, in short, so far as <i>locale</i> is concerned, exiled -in the tempestuous mists of the North, with its gloomy sky and heavy -clouds, upon which the spirits ride or appear to heroes, raimented in -their form. We may add that it is only quite recently that other Gaelic -minstrels of olden time have been discovered, rather connected, so -Wallis informs us, with England than Scotland or Ireland, minstrelsy -having been for a long time continuous in that country, which already -must have possessed a considerable literature.</p> - -<p>In these poems we have among other things reference to emigrations to -America. Mention is also made of Caesar;<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_182" id="Page_182">[Pg 182]</a></span> but the reason here given for -his invasion is a private passion for some king's daughter, whom he saw -in Gaul and followed to England. As a striking characteristic of their -form triads are worthy of attention, which combine in three organic -parts three events of similar character, though dating from different -periods of time.</p> - -<p>Finally, and more famous than these poems, are on the one hand the -heroic songs of the more ancient Edda, and on the other the myths with -which for the first time in this cycle of song along with the narrative -of human destinies we also come across various histories concerning the -origin, exploits, and downfall of the gods. I must, however, confess -I have been unable to acquire a taste for the empty exuberance of -these origins of a natural philosophy of symbolism, which, however, -are further attached to the appearance of particular human form and -physiognomy, such as Thor with his hammer, the Werewolf, the wild -mead-carousals, and in a word, the savagery and troubled confusion of -such a mythology. We must admit, of course, that all that intimately -concerns this folk of the North lies nearer to ourselves than, say, -the poetry of the Persians and Mohammedanism; but to press upon the -educated man among us such an admission to the point that it has still -at this time of day a claim upon his sympathy, and indeed ought to -pass for us as something national—such an assumption, though often -ventured, means not merely to overrate conceptions, which are to a -great extent misshapen and barbarous, but also to wholly misunderstand -the significance and spirit of our own times.</p> - -<p>(<i>β</i>) If we, <i>secondly</i>, cast a glance over the poetry of the -Christian Middle Ages, what we ought in the first instance and above -all to consider are those works which have, without more direct and -penetrating influence of the old literature and culture, sprung up from -the fresh spirit of the Middle Ages and consolidated Catholicism. Here -we find the most multifold elements ready to supply the material and -stimulus of epic poetry.</p> - -<p>(<i>αα</i>) We may in the <i>first</i> place draw retention to that truly epic -subject-matter which comprises in its content interests, exploits, and -characters of the period mentioned of a wholly <i>national</i> character. -Among these the Cid is pre-<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_183" id="Page_183">[Pg 183]</a></span>eminently worthy of our notice. The -significance of this blossom of national heroism in the Middle Ages to -the Spanish, this is set before us in epic guise in the poem Cid, and -then at a later date with more attractive excellence in a succession -of narrative romances, which Herder first brought to the notice of -Germany. We have here a string of pearls, every single picture entirely -complete in itself, and yet all so admirably in tune with each other -that they make a consistent whole; though throughout composed in -the spirit of chivalry, yet at the same time Spanish and national; -eminently rich in the content of their varied interests, whether these -concern love, marriage, honour, or the mastery of kings in wars waged -between Christians and Moors. All this material is voiced in so epic -and plastic a style, we have set before us the pertinent fact so simply -in the purity of its exalted content, and withal with such a wealth of -the noblest pictures of human life displayed in a panorama of the most -glorious exploit, and all this bound together in a wreath so fair and -fascinating, that we moderns may compare it with the most beautiful -creations of the ancient world.<a name="FNanchor_34_125" id="FNanchor_34_125"></a><a href="#Footnote_34_125" class="fnanchor">[34]</a></p> - -<p>As a matter of fact it is as impossible to compare the Nibelungenlied, -as it is the Iliad and Odyssey, with this world of romance, which, -however dissevered in fragments it maybe, is none the less epic in -its fundamental type. For although in the former precious and truly -German work we have no lack of a national and substantive content, in -respect to family, matrimonial affection, duty of vassalage, loyalty -of service, heroism, and, in a word, genuine marro<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_184" id="Page_184">[Pg 184]</a></span>w and substance, -yet the entire collision, despite all its epic breadth of vision, is -rather one of a dramatic type, than truly epic, and the exposition, -with all its detail, neither tends towards the individualization of -its abundance, nor to a presentment that is wholly lifelike; and from -a further point of view it is frequently squandered in pure harshness, -savagery and ferocity, so that the characters, although we find them -compactly braced and robust in action, yet in their abstract ruggedness -rather resemble coarse images of wood, than are comparable to the -humanely evolved, genial individuality of the Homeric heroes and women.</p> - -<p>(<i>ββ</i>) A second fundamental source of such literature is to be traced -in the religious poems of the Middle Ages, which take as their subject -the life of Christ, or those of the Madonna, the Apostles, the saints -and martyrs and the Last Judgment. The most essentially complete -and rich composition, however, the genuine art-Epic of Catholic -Christianity in the Middle Ages, the greatest subject-matter and the -greatest poem is in this sphere Dante's Divine Comedy. It is true that -we cannot call even this severely, rather I should systematically -organized poem, an Epopaea in the ordinary sense of the term. For -we have not here one progressive action, individual and exclusive, -on the broad basis of the entire poem: what, however, we do get in -a conspicuous degree in this Epos is the most secure articulation -and consummate finish. Instead of a particular event it has for its -subject-matter the eternal event, the absolute end, the Divine Love -in its imperishable eventuality, and in its unalterable circles' -of relation to the object. Possessing further Hell, Purgatory, and -Paradise for its locality, it plunges the living world of human action -and suffering or, more closely, that of individual acts and destinies -in this changeless existence. Everything single and particular in human -interests and aims here vanishes before the absolute greatness of the -purpose and end of all things; at the same time, however, what is -otherwise most perishable and evanescent in the living world receives -here a completely epic form objectively based on its own innermost -life, and adjudged in its worth and unworth by the supreme notion of -all, that is God. For as individuals were in their life <span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_185" id="Page_185">[Pg 185]</a></span>and suffering, -their opinions and accomplishment on Earth, so are they here set before -us for ever consolidated, as it were, into images of bronze. It is in -this way that the poem embraces the totality of the most objective -life, that is, the eternal condition of Hell, of Purification, and -of Paradise; and it is on these indestructible foundations that the -characters of the actual world move in their particular personalities, -or rather they <i>have</i> already moved, and are henceforward rendered -moveless, together with their action and being, in the everlasting -righteousness, and are themselves eternal. The Homeric heroes indeed -endure in <i>our</i> memories through the song of the Muse. These characters -assert their condition on their own account, and in the cause of their -own individuality: they do not so much exist in our imagination; -they are <i>themselves</i> essentially eternal. The perpetuation through -the Mnemosyne of the poet has here the objective force of the very -judgments of God, in whose Name the most dauntless spirit of his time -has damned or beatified the entire present and past.</p> - -<p>The exposition also must perforce follow the above character of an -object, which is received rather than given. It can only be a wandering -through a world that is for ever determined; which, although it is -discovered, organized, and peopled with the freedom of the imagination -wherewith Hesiod and Homer created their gods, nevertheless undertakes -to give us a picture and a report of what has actually happened, an -account full of energetic movement, yet plastic in the rigidity of its -pains; rich in the flashes of its horror, yet mitigated pitifully in -Hell through Dante's own sympathy; more gracious in purgatory, but none -the less fully and completely elaborated; and, finally, translucent as -light in Paradise, and for ever without materia form in the eternal -ether of thought.</p> - -<p>The ancient world no doubt peers into this world of the Catholic -poet, but only as the guiding star and companion of human wisdom and -culture; for, where it is a question of doctrine and dogma, it is the -scholasticism of Christian theology and love which speaks.</p> - -<p>(<i>γγ</i>) A <i>third</i> fundamental subject-matter, which arrests the interest -of the poetry of the Middle Ages, is that of <i>chivalry.</i> This interest -is not merely limited to <span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_186" id="Page_186">[Pg 186]</a></span>its worldly and romantic association with -love-adventure and tilting matches, but is occupied with religious -objects in virtue of the mysticism of Christian knighthood. The -actions and events of such compositions have no relation to national -interests; they are matters effected by individuals, which only -concern the personal agent as such; they are generally similar to -what I have described in my previous reference to romantic chivalry. -Individuals are consequently placed in a position of complete freedom -and independence. A novel form of heroism is thereby created within a -social environment that is not as yet stereotyped to the prosaic mode -and temper; a heroism, however, which, on account of interests which -in part are due to religious phantasy, and in part—that is from the -worldly point of view—are wholly personal and imaginary, eschews that -substantive Real, upon the basis of which the Greek heroes are united, -or as units contend, are victorious or are vanquished. Despite all the -varied epic compositions, which such a course as the above occasions, -the adventurous character of the situations, conflicts and plots rather -tends, on the one hand, in the direction of a treatment usually met -with in romances, where the various examples of adventure are loosely -interwoven in no more stringent bond of unity, and on the other to that -which, while sharing the general features of such works, is not evolved -on the background of a consistently organized civic order and a truly -prosaic condition of general life. Moreover the imagination is not -content with the mere invention of knightly characters and adventures -outside the pale of the ordinary world of things; it furthermore -associates the exploits of the same with important legendary centres of -interest, pre-eminent historical personages, decisive conflicts of the -age, and receives by doing so, if we view its broader lines, at least -a foundation such as we found indispensable to epic creation. Such a -basis, however, we shall find is as a rule commingled with fantastic -elements, and is unable to secure the clarity of objective vision in -its elaboration, which above all distinguishes the Homeric Epos. Add to -this the fact that on account of the very similar treatment accorded -to the same subject-matter by Frenchmen, Englishmen, Germans, and to -some extent even Spaniards, we fail to find here relatively at least, -and if we contrast it wi<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_187" id="Page_187">[Pg 187]</a></span>th that of the Hindoo, Persian, Greek, and -Celt, the essentially national temper, which in the last-mentioned -cases constitutes in its security the epic core of the content and its -execution. I must, however, excuse myself here from entering further -into the detail of this aspect, either by way of illustration or -critical judgment. It will be sufficient if I merely draw attention to -the larger circle, within which the most important of these Epopaea of -knight-errantry are to be met with if we estimate them relatively to -their subject-matter.</p> - -<p>As a <i>leading</i> figure in this respect we have first Charles the Great -with his peers in the conflict fought against Saracens and pagans. In -this Frankish circle of legend feudal chivalry forms a background of -prime importance, and branches off into poems of every description, -whose most significant material is concerned with the exploits of one -of the twelve heroes, such as Roland or Doolin, of Maintz and others. -More particularly in France during the reign of Philip Augustus many of -such Epopees were composed. We have a <i>further</i> garland of legend with -an English source, one which aims at reproducing the exploits of King -Arthur and the Round Table. Legendary tale, the chivalry of Normans and -Englishmen, service to woman, the fealty of the vassal, are all here -involved together in melancholy or fantastic combination with Christian -mysticism. The search for the Holy Grail, that chalice containing the -sacred blood of Christ, is, indeed, one main object of all knightly -exploit, and every description of fantastic adventure originates -in this source, until, finally, the entire company takes flight to -Abyssinia. The above two subjects of legendary story are worked out -with most completeness in Northern France, England, and Germany. And -as a last illustration we have a <i>third</i> circle of chivalrous poetry, -composed with yet more caprice and less substantive content, which -ever tends to emphasize knightly heroism to an excess with ideas of -fairyland and fable; this rather points to Portugal or Spain as its -original nursery. In this the family of the Amadi are accepted as -principal heroes.</p> - -<p>The great allegorical poems, so much beloved mainly in Northern France -in the thirteenth century, are more nearly prose compositions in their -abstract type. I will only mention one example of these, that is, the -famous <i>Roman de la<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_188" id="Page_188">[Pg 188]</a></span> Rose.</i> We may compare or rather contrast such -with the many anecdotes and still lengthier narratives, the so-called -<i>fabliaux</i> and <i>contes</i>, which rather borrow their subject-matter from -contemporary life, tales of knights, priests, citizens, and above all -<i>amours</i>, lawful and the reverse, retailed to us sometimes in the comic -vein, at others in the tragic, now in prose, and again in verse. Such -was the type of writing which the clear intellect and trained culture -of a Boccaccio carried to its perfection.</p> - -<p>There is a final class of such compositions, which, turning to the -ancients—with a casual knowledge of the Epic of Homer and Virgil, or -ancient legend, celebrates also, in precisely the manner of the Epopaea -of chivalry, the exploits of Trojan heroes, the foundation of Rome by -Æneas, the conquests of Alexander, and other like subjects.</p> - -<p>And this will conclude what I have to say upon the Epic poetry of the -Middle Ages.</p> - -<p>(<i>γ</i>) In a <i>third</i> principal group of which I have still to speak, -the rich and pregnant study of <i>ancient</i> literature marks a point of -departure for the purer artistic taste of a new culture, in whose -learning, assimilation, and blending of diverse elements, however, -we frequently miss that primitive creative power, which we admire in -the Hindoos, Arabs, as also in Homer and writers of the Middle Ages. -In the many-sided development in which, dating from this age of the -re-awakened sciences and their influence on national literatures, the -actual conditions of mankind undergo a reform in religion, political -condition, morals, and social relations, epic poetry also seizes hold -of the most varied content, as also the most manifold forms, the -historical course of which I can only direct attention to in its most -essential characteristics.</p> - -<p>(<i>αα</i>) <i>First,</i> we may remark that it is still the <i>Middle Ages</i>, which -now, as previously, supplies the material for the Epos, although the -same is conceived and presented in a new spirit, namely, one permeated -with the culture of classic literature> We find here pre-eminently two -directions in which the art of epic poetry displays itself.</p> - -<p>On the one side the awakening consciousness of the age shows a -necessary tendency to treat as ridiculous al<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_189" id="Page_189">[Pg 189]</a></span>l that is capricious in -the adventurous feats of the Middle Ages, all that is fantastic and -exaggerated in chivalry, all that is merely formal in the independence -and personal isolation of the heroes, and which is now contained within -a social reality embracing more abundance of national conditions and -interest; a consciousness which further brings this entire world before -our vision in the light of comedy, which does this, however much -what is really genuine within it is also asserted, with seriousness -and delight. As the culminating points of this genial conception -of the entire world of chivalry I have already pointed to Ariosto -and Cervantes. I will therefore in the present passage merely draw -attention to the brilliant facility, the charm and wit, the loveliness -and intense ingenuousness, with which Ariosto, whose poem still hovers -among the poetic aims of the Middle Ages, merely in a more veiled -and humorous fashion makes what is fantastic vanish away by means of -the incredibility of his nonsense, while the profounder romance of -Cervantes already assumes knight-errantry to be a Past behind it; -which, consequently, can only enter into the real prose and presence of -life as vanity in its isolation and fantastic folly; yet at the same -time it gives equal prominence to its great and noble aspects in their -contrast to what is awkward, stupid, devoid of reason and order in this -very prosaic reality, making the defects of the same live before our -eyes.</p> - -<p>Among writers who have contributed to a <i>second</i> phase in this type -of epic development I will merely mention the representative name -of Tasso. In his "Jerusalem Delivered" this poet, in contrast to -the poetry of Ariosto, selects for his central theme, without any -admixture of the humorist's temper whatever, the great and common -aims of Christian chivalry, the recovery of the Holy Sepulchre, the -victorious pilgrimage of the Crusades, and, after the model of Homer -and Virgil, creates an Epos with enthusiasm and study, which may even -be compared with the great prototypes abovementioned. And no doubt we -do discover in this work, quite apart from a genuine, and, in part, -too, national and religious interest, a type of unity, development, -and elaboration of the whole such as we have previously fixed as a -primary condition. We may add to this a fascinating music in the -verse, which makes the same still harmonious to<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_190" id="Page_190">[Pg 190]</a></span> living speech. What, -however, is pre-eminently wanting in this poem is just that kind of -primitive origin which is alone able to create the real Bible of -an entire nation. In other words, instead of having, as in Homer's -case, a work which, as true Epos, expresses once for all in language, -and with direct simplicity, that which the nation is through its -actions, the epic in question rather appears simply a poem, that is, a -poetically constructed event. We are mainly pleased and satisfied with -it in virtue of the artistic effect of its beautiful speech and form, -whether we consider its more lyrical aspects, or its epic descriptions. -Consequently, however much Tasso may have taken Homer for his model in -the collective arrangement of his material, in the entire spirit of the -conception and presentation it is rather and in chief the influence of -Virgil that we actually discover in the work, and of course do so not -to the poem's advantage.</p> - -<p><i>Finally</i>, among the great Epopaea, which are constructed upon the -basis of a classic culture, we must include the "Lysiad" of Camoens. -In the subject-matter of this entirely national composition, which -celebrates the bold sea-faring of the Portuguese, we are already beyond -the true Middle Ages, and have interests unfolded, which inaugurate a -new era. But here, too, despite the glow of its patriotism, despite -the life-like character of the descriptive matter, based for the most -part upon the author's own experience, we are still conscious of a -real barrier between the subject that is national and an artistic -culture which is partly borrowed from the ancients and in part from the -Italians, and which impairs its impression as a truly original epic.</p> - -<p>(<i>ββ</i>) The essentially new manifestations in the religious belief and -actual composition of modern life originate in the principle of the -Reformation. The whole tendency of this general change of outlook is, -indeed, rather favourable to lyric and dramatic, than epic poetry. -But we do find nevertheless, even in the latter sphere, an autumnal -blossoming of the religious Epopaea, of which the pre-eminent examples -are Milton's "Paradise Lost" and Klopstock's "Messias." In breadth -of culture, gained through study of the ancients, and the correct -elegance of his language, Milton is no doubt an admirable master -of his age. In the profundity of his<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_191" id="Page_191">[Pg 191]</a></span> content, in energy, original -invention and execution, and, above all, in the epic objectivity of -his presentment, however, he is in every respect inferior to Dante. -For not only does the conflict and the catastrophe of "Paradise Lost" -take a direction which is contrary to its dramatic character; but, as -I have above incidentally observed, it is, in a unique way, supported -by a lyrical impulse and ethical or didactic predilections, which lie -far enough away from the subject in its original form.<a name="FNanchor_35_126" id="FNanchor_35_126"></a><a href="#Footnote_35_126" class="fnanchor">[35]</a> I have -already, in discussing Klopstock, referred to a similar cleft between -the material and the form, which a particular age gives to it in its -epic reflection. In the case of Klopstock, moreover, an endeavour is -throughout apparent through a rhetoric, which is little more than the -caricature of the Sublime, to infuse the reader with that recognition -of the worth and solemnity of his subject, which the poet has himself -experienced. From a somewhat different point of view we arrive at very -much the same conclusion in the case of Voltaire's "Henriade." At any -rate here too the poetry is an artificial production, and all the more -so, inasmuch as the material, as already observed, is not adapted to -the truly primitive Epos.</p> - -<p>(<i>γγ</i>) If we try to discover really epic compositions in our own day -we shall find ourselves in an atmosphere totally different from that -of the genuine Epopaea. The general condition of the world to-day has -assumed a form, which, in its prosaic character, is diametrically -opposed to everything which we found indispensable to the genuine Epos, -while the revolutions, which have been imposed upon the actual social -conditions of states and nations, are still too strongly riveted in -our memory as actual experiences that they should be able to receive -an epic type of art. Epic poetry has consequently taken refuge from -the great national events in the narrow circle of the domestic life -of individuals in the country and in the small town, striving to find -here the material adapted to epic composition. In this way, more -particularly among us Germans, the Epic has become idyllic, after the -genuine Idyll, of the sweet sentimentality and wishy-washy type, died -out.</p> - -<p>As an example lying close to hand of an idyllic Epos I will merely -mention the "Luise" of Voss, as also and above all Goethe's -masterpiece, "Herman and Dorothea." In t<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_192" id="Page_192">[Pg 192]</a></span>he latter work we have -no doubt our attention directed to the background of the greatest -world-event of our age, with which the circumstances of the innkeeper -and his family, of the pastor and the apothecary, are directly -associated. And inasmuch as the little country town is not placed -before us in its political relations we at once remark a gap in the -narrative which is not explained or mediated by any connecting link. -Yet it is precisely through this omission of the intermediate link -that the whole keeps its unique character. For with the stroke of a -master Goethe has removed the revolution into the background, despite -the fact that he has known how to make the most happy use of it in the -enlargement of his poem. He only interweaves such circumstances with -the action as, in their simple humanity, connect themselves absolutely -without constraint with domestic and civic conditions. The main point, -therefore, is that Goethe in this work has succeeded in detaching from -the reality of our modern life traits, descriptions, conditions, and -developments, and depicting the same, which in their province once more -make that alive which contributes to the imperishable charm of those -primitive human conditions of the Odyssey and the patriarchal picture -of the Old Testament.</p> - -<p>In respect to other spheres of our present national and social life -I would observe in conclusion that in the field of epic poetry there -are practically unlimited opportunities for the <i>romance</i>, the -<i>narrative</i>, and the <i>novel.</i> I am, however, unable, even in the most -general outline, to follow the history of these in the breadth of their -development from their first appearance until the present time.</p> - -<hr class="r5" /> - -<div class="footnote"> - -<p><a name="Footnote_1_92" id="Footnote_1_92"></a><a href="#FNanchor_1_92"><span class="label">[1]</span></a> <i>Die echt poetische Abrundung.</i> Not, however, merely -literary finish, but complete ideal totality.</p></div> - -<div class="footnote"> - -<p><a name="Footnote_2_93" id="Footnote_2_93"></a><a href="#FNanchor_2_93"><span class="label">[2]</span></a> <i>Einem bestimmten Tone</i>. Perhaps more truly "a particular -strain or atmosphere." But both aspects are suggested.</p></div> - -<div class="footnote"> - -<p><a name="Footnote_3_94" id="Footnote_3_94"></a><a href="#FNanchor_3_94"><span class="label">[3]</span></a> There is a misprint here <i>eine recht</i> for <i>einer echt</i>, -and also I should prefer eight lines lower down <i>die</i> for <i>das</i> -agreeing with <i>Freiheit</i> rather than <i>Leben.</i></p></div> - -<div class="footnote"> - -<p><a name="Footnote_4_95" id="Footnote_4_95"></a><a href="#FNanchor_4_95"><span class="label">[4]</span></a> This sentence is obviously ironical, but the sense -intended is not very clear. The words <i>die sic</i> are clearly a misprint -for <i>die sick,</i> and I presume <i>kindisch</i> is not used in its more common -depreciatory sense of childish. I am, however, not very confident of -my translation. <i>War es ein Zeichen</i> would apparently refer back to -the general intention of the previous sentence, <i>i.e.,</i> the attempt of -Klopstock and others to make a national book.</p></div> - -<div class="footnote"> - -<p><a name="Footnote_5_96" id="Footnote_5_96"></a><a href="#FNanchor_5_96"><span class="label">[5]</span></a> See vol. I, pp. 240-289, and particularly pp. 270-289.</p></div> - -<div class="footnote"> - -<p><a name="Footnote_6_97" id="Footnote_6_97"></a><a href="#FNanchor_6_97"><span class="label">[6]</span></a> <i>Eine Sittlichkeit.</i></p></div> - -<div class="footnote"> - -<p><a name="Footnote_7_98" id="Footnote_7_98"></a><a href="#FNanchor_7_98"><span class="label">[7]</span></a> Poet., c. 14.</p></div> - -<div class="footnote"> - -<p><a name="Footnote_8_99" id="Footnote_8_99"></a><a href="#FNanchor_8_99"><span class="label">[8]</span></a> That is to say, that the whole remains intact in its -opposition. The question of international ethics is not directly -considered, though reference is here made to historical evolution in -its widest sense.</p></div> - -<div class="footnote"> - -<p><a name="Footnote_9_100" id="Footnote_9_100"></a><a href="#FNanchor_9_100"><span class="label">[9]</span></a> Wrong that is inflicted on a state which is, as a whole, -innocent.</p></div> - -<div class="footnote"> - -<p><a name="Footnote_10_101" id="Footnote_10_101"></a><a href="#FNanchor_10_101"><span class="label">[10]</span></a> I presume the reference is mainly to the United States. -Hegel's sentence is <i>so möchten diese nur den Sieg dereinstiger -Americanischer lebendiger Vernünftigkeit über die Einkerkerung in ein -ins Unendliche fortgehendes Messen und Particularisiren darzustellen -haben.</i> It may be doubted, perhaps, whether he would have expressed -himself with equal confidence in our own day. At least the position of -the German States of his own time no doubt was strongly present in his -mind.</p></div> - -<div class="footnote"> - -<p><a name="Footnote_11_102" id="Footnote_11_102"></a><a href="#FNanchor_11_102"><span class="label">[11]</span></a> <i>Von einem anderen beschränkt.</i> Curtailed, I imagine, as -a spontaneous and free power.</p></div> - -<div class="footnote"> - -<p><a name="Footnote_12_103" id="Footnote_12_103"></a><a href="#FNanchor_12_103"><span class="label">[12]</span></a> That is acting in subservience to eternal forces, not -directing those forces. Hegel conceives the event as supplying the -lines of direction through which the forces are effective.</p></div> - -<div class="footnote"> - -<p><a name="Footnote_13_104" id="Footnote_13_104"></a><a href="#FNanchor_13_104"><span class="label">[13]</span></a> <i>Aus der Dumpfheit des Bewusstseyns.</i> Out of the -confusions of consciousness.</p></div> - -<div class="footnote"> - -<p><a name="Footnote_14_105" id="Footnote_14_105"></a><a href="#FNanchor_14_105"><span class="label">[14]</span></a> I have adopted the masculine gender in accordance with -the text, though of course it does not imply personality in the -ordinary sense.</p></div> - -<div class="footnote"> - -<p><a name="Footnote_15_106" id="Footnote_15_106"></a><a href="#FNanchor_15_106"><span class="label">[15]</span></a> I suppose the meaning is that it is a purely objective -panorama.</p></div> - -<div class="footnote"> - -<p><a name="Footnote_16_107" id="Footnote_16_107"></a><a href="#FNanchor_16_107"><span class="label">[16]</span></a> <i>Seiner Sache,</i> Somewhat vague and difficult to -translate. It means more than his affair or business.</p></div> - -<div class="footnote"> - -<p><a name="Footnote_17_108" id="Footnote_17_108"></a><a href="#FNanchor_17_108"><span class="label">[17]</span></a> <i>Trauer.</i> Mournfulness or gloom is perhaps better.</p></div> - -<div class="footnote"> - -<p><a name="Footnote_18_109" id="Footnote_18_109"></a><a href="#FNanchor_18_109"><span class="label">[18]</span></a> Liv., ii, c. 32.</p></div> - -<div class="footnote"> - -<p><a name="Footnote_19_110" id="Footnote_19_110"></a><a href="#FNanchor_19_110"><span class="label">[19]</span></a> Lit., so far as they do not emphasize essential phases in -(<i>Momente</i>).</p></div> - -<div class="footnote"> - -<p><a name="Footnote_20_111" id="Footnote_20_111"></a><a href="#FNanchor_20_111"><span class="label">[20]</span></a> I presume the allusion is to the way, already -illustrated, the Homeric gods do not take themselves seriously.</p></div> - -<div class="footnote"> - -<p><a name="Footnote_21_112" id="Footnote_21_112"></a><a href="#FNanchor_21_112"><span class="label">[21]</span></a> Messias, Canto II, w, 627-850.</p></div> - -<div class="footnote"> - -<p><a name="Footnote_22_113" id="Footnote_22_113"></a><a href="#FNanchor_22_113"><span class="label">[22]</span></a> It is possible Hegel means by <i>geistige</i> intelligible.</p></div> - -<div class="footnote"> - -<p><a name="Footnote_23_114" id="Footnote_23_114"></a><a href="#FNanchor_23_114"><span class="label">[23]</span></a> Act II, sc. 6.</p></div> - -<div class="footnote"> - -<p><a name="Footnote_24_115" id="Footnote_24_115"></a><a href="#FNanchor_24_115"><span class="label">[24]</span></a> "O, that I had never shipped hither over the sea, unhappy -that I am! Vain was the fancy which befooled me to seek an empty fame -in France; and now a fatal destiny carries me to this bloody field of -death. O that I were far from here housed at home on the banks of the -blue Severn, where the mother remained behind and the gentle sweet -bride mourning for me."</p></div> - -<div class="footnote"> - -<p><a name="Footnote_25_116" id="Footnote_25_116"></a><a href="#FNanchor_25_116"><span class="label">[25]</span></a> "To Death thou art decreed! A British matron it was that -conceived thee!"</p></div> - -<div class="footnote"> - -<p><a name="Footnote_26_117" id="Footnote_26_117"></a><a href="#FNanchor_26_117"><span class="label">[26]</span></a> "With vow to slay at everything alive with the sword that -the fateful god of battles confronts her with."</p></div> - -<div class="footnote"> - -<p><a name="Footnote_27_118" id="Footnote_27_118"></a><a href="#FNanchor_27_118"><span class="label">[27]</span></a> <i>Sitte und Settlichkeit.</i></p></div> - -<div class="footnote"> - -<p><a name="Footnote_28_119" id="Footnote_28_119"></a><a href="#FNanchor_28_119"><span class="label">[28]</span></a> That is of the Epos.</p></div> - -<div class="footnote"> - -<p><a name="Footnote_29_120" id="Footnote_29_120"></a><a href="#FNanchor_29_120"><span class="label">[29]</span></a> The course of painting is similar to that of sculpture -in virtue of the fact that it is wholly of one type, viz., romantic, -but it differs from it in being less objective and requiring more -historical illustration.</p></div> - -<div class="footnote"> - -<p><a name="Footnote_30_121" id="Footnote_30_121"></a><a href="#FNanchor_30_121"><span class="label">[30]</span></a> <i>Substantiellen</i>, <i>i.e.,</i> an outlook which concentrates -attention on the one Divine substance, the essence beneath the -phenomenal.</p></div> - -<div class="footnote"> - -<p><a name="Footnote_31_122" id="Footnote_31_122"></a><a href="#FNanchor_31_122"><span class="label">[31]</span></a> I presume this is another Persian composition, but it may -be a cult of some kind.</p></div> - -<div class="footnote"> - -<p><a name="Footnote_32_123" id="Footnote_32_123"></a><a href="#FNanchor_32_123"><span class="label">[32]</span></a> Substantive as contrasted with phenomenal.</p></div> - -<div class="footnote"> - -<p><a name="Footnote_33_124" id="Footnote_33_124"></a><a href="#FNanchor_33_124"><span class="label">[33]</span></a> That is the Iliad and Odyssey.</p></div> - -<div class="footnote"> - -<p><a name="Footnote_34_125" id="Footnote_34_125"></a><a href="#FNanchor_34_125"><span class="label">[34]</span></a> What Hegel means to say by this and the following -paragraph is by no means clear. He first seems to state as a fact -that a rivalry may be asserted, or at least has been asserted by -others, between the Spanish romances and the finest Greek and Latin -epic literature, and then immediately afterwards denies the fact so -far as the Iliad and Odyssey is concerned. The confusion and indeed -uncertainty seems to be due to the fact that while explaining the -disadvantage in which the German work is placed as compared with the -Spanish romances, he merely contrasts the Homeric poems with the -former. What he apparently means us to infer is that the latter are -as superior as the German work is, at least as an Epos, inferior. The -words "we moderns" are apparently ironical. In any case the entire -passage is, I think, clearly one which needed revision, and it is -possible that the two paragraphs have been tacked together by Hegel's -editors from different connections.</p></div> - -<div class="footnote"> - -<p><a name="Footnote_35_126" id="Footnote_35_126"></a><a href="#FNanchor_35_126"><span class="label">[35]</span></a> As we find it, presumably, in Genesis.</p></div> - - -<hr /> -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_193" id="Page_193">[Pg 193]</a></span></p> -<h4><a name="B_LYRIC_POETRY" id="B_LYRIC_POETRY"> (B.) LYRIC POETRY</a></h4> - - -<p>The poetic imagination does not, as the plastic arts do, present the -objects of its creation before our vision in an objective shape, -but only envisages them to the inward vision and emotions. No doubt -from the first, relatively to certain aspects of this universal type -of composition, it is the <i>personal</i> quality of ideal creation and -construction which pre-eminently asserts itself in the presented -work, and as such is to be contrasted with plastic construction. But -when epic poetry offers to our contemplation its object either in its -substantive universality, or under a mode comparable with that of -sculptor and painter—in other words, in its living presence—in that -case, at least where the art is most consummate, the individual mind -and soul of the creator involved in the creation disappears before -the objective result created. The above personal or subjective aspect -of mind can only completely be discarded in so far as, in the first -place, the entire world of objects and relations are essentially -absorbed by it and then permitted to stand forth freely from the -veiled presence of the individual consciousness, and, further, in so -far as the self-centred soul unbars its doors, opens wide its ears and -eyes, extends the purely unenlightened feeling to vision and idea, -and attaches to t<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_194" id="Page_194">[Pg 194]</a></span>his wealth of hidden content word and speech as the -vehicle of its intimate self-expression. And just in proportion as -this kind of communication persists in shutting itself away from the -objective manifestation of epic art, to that extent, and precisely -for that reason, the subjective type of poetry is bound to find its -own forms, in a province of its own, wholly independent of the Epos. -In other words, the human spirit descends from the objectivity of -the object into its own private domain; it peers into its particular -conscious life; it endeavours to satisfy the desire to reproduce the -presence and reality of <i>that</i>, as displayed in soul, in the experience -of heart and reflected idea, and in doing so to unfold the content -and activity of the personal life rather than the actual presence of -the external fact. But, again, inasmuch as this expression, if it is -not simply to remain the chance expression of mere individuality<a name="FNanchor_1_127" id="FNanchor_1_127"></a><a href="#Footnote_1_127" class="fnanchor">[1]</a> -in its immediate feeling and conception, must assert itself in speech -as the reflection of an inner life that is <i>poetic</i>, all that is -thus envisaged of feeling or otherwise—and however much, too, it -may be a part of the poet's unique personality, and be presented -by him as such—must nevertheless possess a universal validity, in -other words, it must essentially include feelings and reflections for -which the art of poetry is able to discover the vital and adequate -means of expression. And although, apart from this, pain and desire, -as conceived, described, and expressed in speech, may lighten the -heart, and poetic ebullition is unquestionably permissible for such a -purpose, yet its function is not restricted to such domestic service. -Rather it has a nobler vocation, which is not so much to liberate the -human spirit from emotion, but in the medium of the same. The blind -tumult of passion surges on in a union with the entire soul-life -unenlightened, unawakened to the grasp of mind. In such a state the -soul cannot assert itself in idea and expression. It is the function -of poetry no doubt to free the heart from such a prison house, in so -far as it presents that life as an object to it. But it does more -than this mere translation of content from the immediacy of emotional -experience; it creates therefrom an object which is purified from all -mere contingency of the passing mood; an object in which the soul-life -in this deliverance returns once more to itself freely and with -self-conscious satisfaction, and remains there at home. Conversely, -however, this primary objectivisation ought not to be carried to -the point of a reflection that actually discloses the individual -activity of the soul-life and its passions as it is carried forward in -practical impulse and <i>action</i>; in other words, in the self-return of -the individual upon himself in veritable deed. For the most pertinent -reality of our inner life is still itself an inward something, and -consequently this passage from itself can only give us the <i>sense</i> of -deliverance from the immediate concentration of heart in its blind and -formless presence, which now unbars itself in self-expression, and in -doing so grasps and expresses what was previously merely felt in the -form of a self-conscious vision and ideas. And with these remarks I -<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_195" id="Page_195">[Pg 195]</a></span>think we have determined in their essential features both the sphere -and function of lyric poetry as contrasted with the epic and dramatic -types.</p> - -<p>As regards the more detailed examination and classification of our new -subject-matter, we cannot do better than follow the course previously -adopted in our examination of epic poetry.</p> - -<p><i>First</i>, we have to discuss the <i>general</i> character of lyric -composition.</p> - -<p><i>Secondly</i>, we shall consider the <i>particular</i> characteristics which -make the lyric work of art and the types of the same worthy of -attention in their more direct relation to the lyric poet.</p> - -<p><i>Thirdly</i>, we shall conclude the survey with a few remarks upon the -<i>historical</i> development of this class of poetic work.</p> - -<p>Generally I may remark that this survey will be extremely restricted, -and for two reasons—first, because I am compelled to reserve the -necessary space for the discussion of the dramatic field; secondly, -because I must limit myself exclusively to general considerations, -inasmuch as the detail embraced by it possesses far more incalculable -resources of manifold complexity than in the case of the Epos, and -could only be treated in greater fulness and completeness if viewed -historically, which is not within the aim of the present work.</p> - - - -<h5><a name="I_GENERAL_CHARACTER_OF_THE_LYRIC" id="I_GENERAL_CHARACTER_OF_THE_LYRIC">1. GENERAL CHARACTER OF THE LYRIC.</a></h5> - - -<p>In the stimulus of epic poetry is the desire to hear the thing or -matter which is unfolded on its own account, and independently of -the poet,<a name="FNanchor_2_128" id="FNanchor_2_128"></a><a href="#Footnote_2_128" class="fnanchor">[2]</a> as an objective and essentially exclusive totality. In -the lyric, on the contrary, it is the converse need which finds its -satisfaction in self-expression and the coming to a knowledge of the -soul in this expression of itself. With regard to the nature of this -effusion,<a name="FNanchor_3_129" id="FNanchor_3_129"></a><a href="#Footnote_3_129" class="fnanchor">[3]</a> we may enumerate its most important constituents as -follows:</p> - -<p><i>First,</i> there is the <i>content</i> in which soul-life is aware of itself -and reflects itself in idea.</p> - -<p><i>Secondly</i>, there is the <i>form,</i> in virtue of which the expression of -this content becomes lyric poetry.</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_196" id="Page_196">[Pg 196]</a></span> -<i>Thirdly</i>, there is the stage of conscious life and culture from which -the person thus lyrically viewed discloses his feelings and ideas.</p> - -<p>(<i>a</i>) The content of the lyric work of art cannot comprise the -development of an objective action in its possibilities of expansion -into all the breadth and wealth of a world. It is the single person, -and along with him the isolated fact of situation and objects, no less -than the mode and manner in which the soul is made aware of itself in -such content, with its private judgments, its joy, its wonder, its -pain, and its feeling, which it presents to our vision. Through this -principle of division and particularity, as present in the Lyric, the -content may be of the greatest variety, associated with every tendency -of national life. There is, however, this essential distinction, that -whereas the Epos combines in one and the same work the spirit of a -people in all its breadth, and in its actual deed and fashion, the more -definite content of lyrical poetry limits itself to one particular -aspect, or at least is unable successfully to attain to the explicit -completeness and exposition which the Epos ought at least to possess. -The entire wealth of lyrical poetry in a nation may, therefore, no -doubt embrace the collective exuberance of national interest, idea, and -purpose; but it is not the single lyrical poem that can do this.</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_197" id="Page_197">[Pg 197]</a></span></p> - -<p>The Lyric is not called upon to produce Bibles such as we have -discovered in Epic poetry. It does, however, enjoy the advantage -of being able to touch upon every conceivable aspect of national -development; whereas the true Epos is limited to distinct epochs of -a primitive age, and its success in our more recent times of prosaic -culture is very jejune.</p> - -<p>(<i>α</i>) Within this field of particularization we have, to start with, -the <i>universal</i> as such—the supreme height and depth of human belief, -imagination, and knowledge—the essential content of religion, art, ay, -even of scientific thought, in so far as the same is adaptable to the -form of imagination and creation, and can enter the sphere of emotions. -Consequently general opinions, what is of permanent substance in a view -of the world, the profounder grasp of far-reaching social conditions -are all not excluded from the Lyric; and a considerable part of the -material I have referred to<a name="FNanchor_4_130" id="FNanchor_4_130"></a><a href="#Footnote_4_130" class="fnanchor">[4]</a> when discussing the more incomplete -types of the Epic falls rightly, and with pertinency into the sphere -now under review.</p> - -<p>(<i>β</i>) And along with such essentially universal topics we have -associated the aspect of <i>particularity</i>, which can be so interwoven -with what is thus substantive that any specific situation, feeling, or -idea is thereby seized in its profounder significance and expressed in -a way wholly accordant thereto. This is, for example, almost always -the case in Schiller's lyrical work, as also in his ballads; in this -connection I will merely recall the superb description of the Eumenides -chorus in the Cranes of Ibicus, which is neither dramatic nor epic, -but lyrical. From a further point of view we may have this combination -so asserted that a variety of particular traits, moods, occurrences -are introduced by way of testimony to comprehensive views and maxims, -interlaced in vital coalescence by virtue of the general principle. -This style of writing is frequently employed in the elegy and epistle, -and generally in reflections upon life of a comprehensive character.</p> - -<p>(<i>γ</i>) In conclusion, inasmuch as in lyrical composition what is -self-expressed is the <i>individual person</i>, a content, which is -extremely slight, will primarily suffice for this purpose. It is, in<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_198" id="Page_198">[Pg 198]</a></span> -other words, the soul itself, subjective life simply, which is the -true content. The emphasis is therefore throughout upon the animation -of feeling, rather than upon the more immediate object. The most -fleeting moods of the moment, the overjoyment of the heart, the swiftly -passing gleams or clouds of careless merriment and jest, sorrow, -melancholy, and complaint, in a word, all and every phase of emotion -are here seized in their momentary movement or isolated occurrence, -and rendered permanent in their expression. What we find here in the -domain of poetry may be paralleled with what I previously referred to -when describing <i>genre</i> paintings. The content, the subject-matter, is -here the wholly contingent, and what is over and above this important -is exclusively the character of the individual conception and mode of -presentment, the charm of which in the Lyric will either consist in -the aroma of exquisite feeling, or in the novelty of arresting points -of view, and the genial suggestion of literary phrases and turns which -surprise.</p> - -<p>(<i>b</i>) In the <i>second</i> place we may observe in general with respect -to the <i>form</i>, wherein the Lyric is composed, that here too it is -the individual person, in the intimacy of his ideas or emotion that -constitutes the focal centre. The growth of the whole is rooted in the -heart and temperament; it starts, to be more precise, from a particular -mood and situation of the poet. By virtue of this fact the content and -conjunction of the particular aspects of its growth are not inferred -from it objectively as a substantively independent content, or from -its external manifestation as some really self-exclusive event, but -are borrowed from the individual subject as such. But for this reason -it is essential that the individual in question should himself appear -poetical, rich in fancy and feeling, or imposing and profound in his -views and reflections, and above all should be essentially independent, -the possessor of a unique ideal world, from which the servility and -caprice of a prosaic nature is excluded.</p> - -<p>The lyric poem, then, retains a mode of unity wholly different from -that of the Epos, in other words, the mysterious intimacy of the -mood or reflection, which expatiates upon itself, mirrors itself -in the objective world, describes itself, or concerns itself as it -wills with any<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_199" id="Page_199">[Pg 199]</a></span> other matter, always, however, retaining the right -in the pursuit of such an interest to begin and break off very much -as it pleases. Horace, for instance, very frequently comes to a stop -at the very point, where, in the commonplace view of its literary -treatment, we might suppose he had only just started with his subject. -In other words, what he describes is simply his feelings, commands or -arrangements for a banquet, say, without giving us further information -as to how it went off. In the same way we have every conceivable mode -of progression and combination supplied by the nature of the mood, the -actual condition of the individual soul-life, the degree of passion, -its excitement or rapid transition of conflicting emotion, or the -tranquillity of the heart or the mind in some long-drawn process of -contemplation. As a rule, in respect to all such subject-matter, we -are able to determine very little that is fixed, owing to the repeated -changes in the ever varied facets of the soul. I will therefore -restrict myself to a few salient points of distinction.</p> - -<p>(<i>α</i>) Just as we met with several specific kinds of epic poetry which -showed a tendency to adopt a lyric vein of expression, so, too, the -Lyric may accept as its subject-matter and its form an occurrence, -which, so far as content and external appearance are concerned, are -epic, and to this extent it will approximate to the latter type. Heroic -songs, romances, and ballads belong to such a class. The form of the -whole is in such examples narrative, inasmuch as it is the progressive -advance of a situation or event, as among other instances, a particular -direction in the fate of a nation, which is communicated. And yet at -the same time the fundamental temper is wholly lyric, inasmuch as the -main object is not to give us a description and representation of the -actual fact apart from all relation to the narrator, but rather to -disclose his personal attitude to it in the way he conceives and feels -it, whether with delight or complaint, whether as a stimulus to good -or depressed spirits, the mood in short that rings throughout it. And -similarly the nature of the impression which the poet endeavours to -produce thereby is entirely that of the province of the lyric. In other -words, what the poet seeks to effect in his audience is precisely that -state of emotion, which the recounted event has produced in himself, -and which he therefore has attached to his composition. He expresses -his dejection,<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_200" id="Page_200">[Pg 200]</a></span> mourning, merriment, his fire of patriotism, and so -forth, in an appropriate occurrence in such a way that it is not this -fact so much which contributes, as it were, the focus, but rather the -state of his emotional life we find reflected therein. And for this -reason he, above all emphasizes those traits, and depicts the same with -feeling, which are in accord with his own personal impulses; and in -the degree of vivacity with which these are expressed by them the same -feelings are likely to be excited in his audience. And thus, though the -content may be epic, the treatment is lyrical.</p> - -<p>(<i>αα</i>) To come yet more directly to detail there is, first, the -example of the <i>epigram</i>, in such a case where it is not merely an -inscription which states concisely the bald nature of some fact, but -further associates with this an emotional state; where, in short, the -content, regarded as the bare statement of external fact, is merged -in a condition of the soul. In other words, the writer here ceases -to surrender himself wholly to the object: rather he makes his own -personality expressive in it; he records his desires with regard to it; -he attaches to it his own sportive fancies, his acute or unexpected -suggestions and associations. The Greek Anthology contains many such -witty epigrams which have lost the epic manner. In more recent times -we find similar examples in the piquante couplets of the French, -abundantly illustrated in their Vaudevilles. We Germans have much the -same thing in our didactic distiches, Xenien, and the like. Even tomb -inscriptions frequently approximate to this lyrical character in virtue -of the strong emotions expressed.</p> - -<p>(<i>ββ</i>) In much the same way the Lyric accepts a wider range in -descriptive narrative. I will merely mention, as a composition of this -class, the <i>romance.</i> It is the most obvious and simple form of it, in -so far that is as it isolates the different scenes of an event, and -then depicts rapidly and with the full force of their most important -characteristics each on its own account, in descriptions marked -throughout by sympathetic feeling. Such a consistent and well-defined -grasp of the characteristic features of a situation, together with an -emphatic assertion of the writer's absolute sympathy with his subject, -is above all nobly represented in Spanish literature and makes such -romances strikingly impressive. A peculiar clarity of atmosphere -surrounds these lyrical<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_201" id="Page_201">[Pg 201]</a></span> representations which rather identifies them -with the clear-cut definition of objective vision, than with the ideal -world of the imagination.</p> - -<p>(<i>γγ</i>) The class of the <i>ballad</i>, in contrast to the above, includes -for the most part, if in less degree than the truly epic poem, the -completeness of an independent event, whose reflection, of course, it -merely embodies in the most conspicuous of its phases, while it seeks -at the same time to give full, if concentrated and ideal emphasis, to -the depth of the sentiment with which it is throughout interwoven, and -therein the plaint, dejection, joy, and so forth, of the soul. English -literature above all contains many such poetic compositions in the -early and more primitive epoch of its history; and, generally, popular -poetry delights in the narration of such histories and collisions, -usually unfortunate, with a true and emotional emphasis calculated -to make both heart and voice thrill and falter with anguish. But in -more recent times also among ourselves Bürger and, most famous of all, -Goethe and Schiller, have composed masterpieces in this field; Bürger -in virtue of his sombre tone of naïveté; Goethe through the impeccable -clarity of his emotional, no less than imaginative vision, which -forms the lyrical thread throughout; and Schiller, on account of his -superb emotional emphasis on the fundamental thought which he seeks, -in a wholly lyrical manner, to express under the form of an event, in -order thereby to affect the hearts of his readers with a similar lyric -movement of feeling and contemplation.</p> - -<p>(<i>β</i>) The purely <i>personal</i> element of lyric poetry is rightly -emphasized in those cases, when the fact of a given situation is taken -by the poet as an effective means of expressing his <i>own</i> individuality -therein. Such is the case in the so-called poems <i>of occasion.</i> So far -back as the poems of Callinus and Tyrtaeus we find elegies of battle -based on conditions regarded as real, which are made the stimulus -of a personal enthusiasm, albeit the poet's own individuality, his -purely private affections and feelings, are as yet not so much in -evidence. The Pindaric Odes also bring to light in their panegyrics -of particular contests, victors, and circumstances, a vein or impulse -that is more private; and yet more in some of the odes of Horace we -mark a definitely personal<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_202" id="Page_202">[Pg 202]</a></span> motive, or rather expressed thought to -the effect, "I will as myself a man of culture and fame, write a poem -on this subject." But the best illustration of all we have in our own -Goethe, whose partiality for such a style was due to the fact that he -discovered a poem in every incident of his life.</p> - -<p>(<i>αα</i>) If, however, the lyric work of art is to be divested of all -<i>dependence</i> of external occasion and purpose, that may be implied in -it, and to be composed as a self-subsistent whole on its own account, -it is obviously essential that the poet also only make use of such -external stimulus as an opportunity to express <i>himself,</i> his mood, -delight, sorrow, or modes of thought and reflection generally. The -condition of most importance to such an intimate mode of personal -expression consists in the poet's ability to absorb the real content -absolutely, converting it thereby into his own possession. The true -lyric poet lives a life of introspection, he grasps relations in the -light of his poetic individuality; and, however in varied fashion his -inner life may be blended with the world around him, in its conditions -and destiny, what he presents to us exclusively in such material is the -unique and independent animation of his own emotions and observations. -When, to take our former example, Pindar was invited to celebrate a -victor of the Hellenic games, or undertakes this uninvited, he made -himself so entirely master of his subject-matter, that his composition -no longer so much appears a poem <i>on</i> the victor as an effusion of song -created from his own resources.</p> - -<p>(<i>ββ</i>) If we consider more closely the manner of presentment of such a -poem <i>d'occasion,</i> we shall, no doubt, be ready to admit that the same -can to a real extent borrow its more defined material and character, -no less than its conceived organization as an artistic work, from the -actual features of the occurrence or individual which constitute its -content. It is, in fact, precisely from this content that the emotional -movement of the poet proceeds. As the most illuminating, though an -extreme example, I will merely mention Schiller's "Song of the Bell," -which makes out of the varied stages of bell-foundry the significant -and arresting moments in the composition of the entire poem, and only -subject to this introduces the emotional element re<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_203" id="Page_203">[Pg 203]</a></span>levant thereto, -as also the various observations upon human life and the description -of its conditions. In a somewhat different manner, too, Pindar makes -use of the place of birth of the victor, the exploits of the family -to which he belongs, or other relations of life as an opportunity in -his own person to exalt certain gods to the exclusion of others, or to -mention these particular exploits and results alone, or to emphasize -exclusively the observations or maxims he has interpolated. From a -further point of view, however, the lyric poet is absolutely free, -inasmuch as it is not the external occasion as such, but rather the -poet's <i>own</i> soul-life which is here the subject; and consequently it -entirely depends on the particular views of the poet and the character -of his general mood, what aspects of the subject-matter and in what -threads of connection and sequence they shall be composed. In other -words, we are unable to predict decisively and <i>a priori</i> the degree -in which the objective occasion with its given content, or the purely -personal factor of poet, shall be predominant, or whether both aspects -shall on equal terms coalesce.</p> - -<p>(<i>γγ</i>) Furthermore, it is not the incentive and its positive reality, -but the ideal movement and conception of the individual soul which -supplies the <i>focus of unity.</i> The particular mood or general review, -which is aroused poetically by the occasion, these constitute the -centre, radiating from which not merely the colour of the whole, but -also the embrace of the particular features unfolded, the very mode of -the execution and construction, and therewith the build and coalescence -of the poem as a work of art are determined. In this way, to return -to our previous example, Pindar possesses in the life-conditions -of his victors a genuine core of reality for differentiation or -amplification. In the particular poems, however, which he has written -it is invariably other points of view, another mood altogether, -whether it be of warning, comfort, or exaltation, which he makes most -pervasive, and which, although such exclusively belong to the poet in -his creative capacity, do none the less give him precisely that grasp -of all he wishes to touch upon, execute, and hand to posterity in -those historical facts, while unfolding therewith the illuminating and -constructive power of genius, without which he would fail to secure the -lyric effect intended.</p> - -<p>(<i>γ</i>) But, <i>thirdly</i>, it is not absolutely necessar<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_204" id="Page_204">[Pg 204]</a></span>y for the genuine -lyrical poet to start from the external occurrence, which he recounts -in a medium rich with emotion, or, indeed, from any such objectively -real stimulus of his efforts. He is, let us repeat, a truly exclusive -world <i>in himself.</i> He may find there both the original incentive -and content, and consequently go no further than this ideal world of -condition, event, and passion discovered in his own heart and soul. -This is that domain in which man becomes, in virtue of his private -inner life, himself the work of art; while the epic poet avails himself -exclusively of the hero and his exploits and experiences for this -purpose.</p> - -<p>(<i>αα</i>) And yet in this field, too, an element of narrative may enter, -where, as in the case of the songs of Anacreon, bright little pictures -of adventure with Eros and the like receive the finish of delightful -miniatures. Such an event, however, must obviously rather resemble the -unveiling of a condition of personal soul-life. In a somewhat different -mode of the same thing Horace, in his <i>Integer vitæ</i> makes use of the -fact of his meeting a wolf, not to the extent that we can, therefore, -call his poem the verse <i>occasion</i>, but rather regarding this fact -as the prompting force of his first sentence and the serenity of the -feelings of affection with which he concludes.</p> - -<p>(<i>ββ</i>) As a rule we may also observe that the situation under which the -poet depicts himself should not restrict itself merely to the <i>inner -personal</i> life as such. It must rather attest itself as concrete, -and thereby we may even say external totality. The poet, in short, -reveals himself not merely in that inward personal life, but as one -of the objects of the external world. In the example just cited of -the Anacreon odes the poet depicts himself among roses, fair maidens, -and youths in the merry enjoyment of wine and dance, without regret -or yearning, without obligation, and yet without dislike of loftier -aims, which, indeed, are not present at all; reveals himself rather -as a hero, who freely and without reserve, and consequently without -hesitation or loss, is just this unity, is what he is, a man of his own -type, and figures as such in this intimate artistic presentment. In the -love-songs of Hafis also we may observe the entire vital individuality -of the poet in all its changes of content, pose, and an expression -which<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_205" id="Page_205">[Pg 205]</a></span> approaches close to self-conscious humour. And yet his poetry -is without any specific theme, any objective picture, any god, or -mythology; or, rather, when we peruse these light-hearted ebullitions, -one feels as though it would be impossible for the Oriental to possess -any such definite picture and constructive art. He passes easily from -one object to another; he takes his walks abroad, but it is a scene -in which the entire man, with his wine, his damsels, his court-life, -and all the rest of it, is placed before us with delightful unreserve, -without passion or self-seeking in the simplicity of his enjoyment eye -to eye and soul to soul. Improvisations of this type adapt themselves -in the most various ways not merely to a reflection of the soul-life, -but also to external condition. If, however, the poet is absorbed in -his own individual experience, we are not so much concerned to hear -his particular fancies, love affairs, domestic arrangements, and the -history of his uncles and aunts. We are so invited, for instance, -in Klopstock's Eidli and Fanny, as to nave some vision given us of -what is of universal human interest, in order that our sympathies may -be roused. From this point of view, therefore, such lyrical poetry -can readily degenerate into the spurious assumption that what is -essentially private and particular must necessarily awaken interest. -On the contrary, it would be no incorrect description of many songs -of Goethe if we called them "Songs of <i>Comradeship</i>," although they -are not exactly executed by the poet under such a category. In other -words, it is not so much himself that a man offers in society; rather -he places his particularity in the background, and converses with the -help of something else, whether it be a story or an anecdote, seizing -its specific features in some particular mood, and communicating them -agreeably to such a temper. In a case like this it is not exactly the -poet, and yet it is himself for all that. It is not himself he gives -us, but something else as best he can. He is, in short, an actor, who -runs through an infinite variety of parts. First he lingers on this, -then on that; he reviews momentarily a scene, then maybe a group of -people. But whatever he may endeavour to reproduce, it is throughout -his individual artistic soul-life, his own experience, his own feeling, -which is vitally interwoven with it.</p> - -<p>(<i>γγ</i>) But, further, in so far as the individuality <span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_206" id="Page_206">[Pg 206]</a></span>of self-conscious -life is the true source of the Lyric, the poet is justified in limiting -his expression to his own moods and reflections without any further -combination of them in a concrete situation that includes a truly -objective character. It is in this direction that examples of what is -little more than an empty fluting for fluting's sake, the song and -trill simply on its own account, will yet give us genuine lyrical -satisfaction. In such the words are to a more or less extent merely -the vehicle of cheerfulness or sorrow, whose effect, moreover, very -readily serves as an invitation to musical accompaniment. Folk-songs -especially very often amount to little more than this. In the songs of -Goethe, too, though we may no doubt discover here a more defined and -abundant mode of expression, it is not unfrequently simply a single and -transitory bit of merriment that is vouchsafed, a passing mood that the -poet does not attempt to throw aside, but on the tune of which he pipes -for a moment in his tiny song. In others, of course, his treatment of -similar moods is on a larger scale, even systematic, as, for instance, -in the poem: "<i>Ich hab mein Sach' auf nichts gestellt</i>," in which the -poet passes before us as things that come and vanish, first, money -and property, then women, travel, fame, honour, and, last of all, -fight and war, retaining throughout as the ever-recurring refrain of -stability his own free and careless cheerfulness. Conversely, however, -the intimate individual life may from the same point of view grow in -depth and expansion, in conditions of the soul of the most imposing -proportions and ideas that embrace the world itself. A considerable -number of Schiller's poems are of this type. What is great, what opens -to intelligence, this is the incentive of his heart. But he will -neither celebrate in hymn fashion a religious or otherwise profound -subject; nor will he be the minstrel who looks for inspiration without -him to the pertinent fact or occasion. He sings in the presence of, and -inspired by, his own soul-life, the highest interest of which are the -ideals of life, beauty, and the imperishable claims and thoughts of our -humanity.</p> - -<p>(<i>c</i>) There is a <i>third</i> consideration we have to deal with in -connection with the general character of lyric poetry. It is the nature -of the general stage of human development and culture from which the -isolated poem originates.</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_207" id="Page_207">[Pg 207]</a></span></p> - -<p>In this respect, too, the Lyric occupies a position which is to be -contrasted with Epic poetry. In other words, while we regarded as -necessary for the full bloom of the true Epos a phase in the nation's -growth which was, speaking generally, undeveloped, at least in the -sense that it had not ripened in the prosaic acceptance of its actual -life, the times which favour most of all lyrical composition are those -which already are in possession of a more or less fixed organization -of social condition. It is in such a period that the individual seeks -a reflection of his intimate personal life in contrast to this outer -world, creating from it and within its limits an independent whole -of emotion and idea. For in the Lyric it is not, we repeat, the -objective solidarity and individual action, but the individual person -as self-conscious life which supplies both content and form. This, -however, must not be understood in such a way as though the individual, -in order to express himself in lyrical form, must perforce disjoin -himself from every connection with national interests and the opinions, -and with rigid and exclusive severity remain as he stands.</p> - -<p>On the contrary, with such an abstract self-subsistency we should only -have left us for content the wholly contingent and particular passion, -the mere caprice of concupiscence and affection, false idiosyncrasies -and distorted originality would have unlimited opportunities. Genuine -lyrical poetry, like all other poetry, has no doubt to express the -content of the human heart in its truth. Yet none the less, regarded as -the content of the Lyric, what is most a matter of fact and substantial -must appear absorbed in personal feeling, vision, imagination, and -thought. And, in the <i>second</i> place, the question here is not so much -simply expression of the personal inner life, is not so much concerned -with a primary and direct statement in the epic fashion, what the facts -are, as with an expression of the poetical nature in a manner both -artistically fruitful and wholly different from chance and ordinary -modes. It follows that the Lyric requires, precisely on account of the -fact that the concentrated life of the heart unfolds itself in manifold -feelings and comprehensive views, and the individual is conscious -of the poetry of his most intimate life as nested in a world that -is already more prosaically organized—an artistic culture already -secured, which must assert itself as the flower and independent product -of the individual's natural endowment thus trained to a perfect result. -For<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_208" id="Page_208">[Pg 208]</a></span> these reasons the Lyric is not limited to particular epochs of the -spiritual development of a people, but is the rich blossom of the most -varied. To an exceptional degree is it favoured in more recent times, -in which everybody is entitled to have and express his own views and -emotions.</p> - -<p>I will, however, draw attention, in the interest of really important -distinction, to the following general considerations.</p> - -<p>(<i>a</i>) In the <i>first</i> place, we have the type of lyrical expression -peculiar to <i>folk-songs.</i></p> - -<p>(<i>αα</i>) In these above all we have witness to the varied and distinct -qualities of national character. It is on account of this, and -consonant with the widely-prevailing curiosity of our generation, that -great efforts are made to collect folk-songs of every kind, in order -to increase our acquaintance with the peculiarities of every national -spirit, and therewith our sympathies and vital contact with such. -Already Herder has done much in this direction. Goethe, too, with the -help of his own more independent imitations, has materially assisted an -approach to very different examples of this style of poetry. Complete -sympathy is, however, only possible for the songs of one's own people; -and however much we Germans are able to make ourselves at home in -the work of foreign lands, the fact remains that the ultimate aroma -in song<a name="FNanchor_5_131" id="FNanchor_5_131"></a><a href="#Footnote_5_131" class="fnanchor">[5]</a> of the intimate life of another folk can only appear as -alien, that we shall only catch the echo of the tone of feeling that -truly belongs to it, with the assistance of a more native reflection -of its content.<a name="FNanchor_6_132" id="FNanchor_6_132"></a><a href="#Footnote_6_132" class="fnanchor">[6]</a> This Goethe has imported into his songs of a -foreign subject-matter, stamped as they are with the finest sympathy -and beauty. We may take as an example the lament of the noble spouse -of Asan Aga, imitated from the Icelandic—only so far as to retain<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_209" id="Page_209">[Pg 209]</a></span> -throughout the unique spirit of such poems unimpaired.</p> - -<p>(<i>ββ</i>) The general character of the lyrical folk-song is comparable to -the primitive Epos in virtue of the fact that here too the poet does -not make himself his subject-matter, but is absorbed in his selected -material. Although, therefore, intensity of soul in its extreme -concentration may express itself in the folk-song, it is nevertheless -not a single person with the artistic expression of whose private -experience we are made acquainted. It is rather a national state of -feeling, which the author completely assimilates, in so far as it -possesses, when taken by itself, no intimate form of idea or feeling -wholly independent of the nation's existence and interests. And a -condition is necessary, as the presupposition for such an inseparable -union, in which independent personal reflection and culture is not -yet awakened, so that the poet is simply in his creative capacity -merely the vehicle in the background, by means of whom the national -life is expressed in its lyrical emotion and general outlook. This -directly primitive character no doubt communicates to the folk-song an -unconscious freshness of downright grasp and striking veracity, which -is often very effective; but it receives thereby along with it very -readily a fragmentary appearance; it is defective in the continuity -of its exposition, which may amount to actual obscurity. The feeling -dives into depth, but cannot and will not attain to full utterance. -Moreover, as before observed, what is absent from such a point of view -throughout, however much the form in general is wholly lyric, in other -words subjective, is just the lyrical individuality, which expresses -this form and its content as the possession of its <i>own</i> heart and -mind, and the creation of its <i>own</i> artistic resources.</p> - -<p>(<i>γγ</i>) Peoples, therefore, which confine themselves to poetry of this -type, and do not combine such composition with that of the further -stages of lyrical, epic, or dramatic work, are as a rule in great -measure barbarous nations, uncultured, characterized by transitory -feud and catastrophes. If they themselves, in such heroic ages, really -combined to form a truly pregnant whole, whose particular aspects -were already fused together in an independent and withal harmonious -objective union, which could supply the ground for<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_210" id="Page_210">[Pg 210]</a></span> essentially -concrete and individually distinct exploits, we should find in them, -along with such primitive poetry, epic poets as well. The condition, -out of which such songs assert themselves as the single and ultimate -mode of poetic expression, is therefore rather limited to the field -of family life and the association of clans, without any further -organization such as belongs already to the riper perfection of the -heroic community. If we are reminded here and there of national -exploits, such are for the most part conflicts waged against foreign -aggressors, expeditions of pillage, reprisals of savagery with -savagery, or deeds of one individual against another in the same -people, in the narration of which lament and dejection or ecstatic -jubilation over one conqueror after another, are the moods throughout -prevailing. The national life as it actually is, as yet unfolded in its -wholly free development, is relegated to the background in contrast -with the world of more personal feeling, which also, on its own -account, betrays an immaturity; and, however much thereby we gain in -concentration of effect, the result only too frequently remains, so far -as content is concerned, rude and barbarous. The question then, whether -folk-songs should possess for us a poetic interest, or on the contrary -repel us to some extent, depends on the kind of situation and emotion -they portray. That which appears admirable to the imagination of one -people, will readily strike another as wanting in taste, horrible, and -offensive. There is, for example, a folk-song which tells us the story -of a wife who was immured at the command of her husband, and all that -her plea for mercy could effect was that apertures should be left open -for her breasts, in order that she might suckle her child; we are told -that she remained alive until her child was weaned. This is a barbarous -and frightful situation. And in the same way tales of robbery, exploits -of the bluster or sheer savagery of individuals, possess nothing -in them in which alien peoples of a higher culture can sympathize. -Folksongs, consequently, very often run into great detail as to the -quality of which there is no fixed standard of comparison, because such -is too far removed from our common humanity. When we consequently, in -more recent times, are made acquainted with the songs of the Iroquois, -the Esquimaux, and other wild nationalities, the circle of a true -poetic enjoyment is in no wise thereby enlarged.</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_211" id="Page_211">[Pg 211]</a></span></p> - -<p>(<i>β</i>) Further, inasmuch as the Lyric is the entire expression of the -inward life of Spirit, it can neither restrict itself to the mode of -expression nor the content of the genuine folksong, or of later poems -composed in a similar spirit.</p> - -<p>(<i>αα</i>) In other words, on the one hand, it is of essential importance, -as already remarked, that the wholly self-absorbed soul should detach -itself from this absolute concentration and its direct introspection, -and should pass on instead to the free grasp of itself which, in the -conditions above described, is only incompletely the case. On the -other, it is necessary that it should expand in a world abundant in -ideas, passions, varied conditions, and conflicts, in order to endow -with ideal expression everything that the human heart is essentially -able to apprehend, and then communicate as the birth of its own spirit. -For the collective wealth of lyrical poetry should express in poetic -form all that the inner life comprises, so far as the same can pass -into poetry, and therefore finds itself at home alike in all phases of -spiritual culture.</p> - -<p>(<i>ββ</i>) And, <i>secondly</i>, with the advent of a free self-consciousness -is bound up the freedom of an assured <i>art</i> of its own. The folk-song -sings forth, just as any natural song, straight from the heart. A free -art, however, is aware of itself; it requires a knowledge and desire of -that which it produces; and requires culture to promote this knowledge, -as also an executive power, which is expert in the finest composition. -When, consequently, genuine epic poetry has to conceal the individual -creative power of the poet, or rather it lies with the entire character -of the age of its origin that such should not yet be visible, this -result is merely because of the fact that the Epos deals with the -nation's positive existence rather than that which issues from the -personal life of the poet himself, and that it is not present in poetry -in such a close personal relation, but rather appears as a self-evolved -product essentially independent. In lyrical poetry, on the contrary, -the creative activity no less than the content are inseparable from the -inner life, and are bound to declare themselves as such in actual fact.</p> - -<p>(<i>γγ</i>) In this respect, later forms of lyric art are expressly -distinguishable from the folk-song. There are, no doubt,<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_212" id="Page_212">[Pg 212]</a></span> folk-songs -which originate contemporaneously with the works of a genuine lyrical -<i>art.</i> These latter, however, belong to a range and type of individuals -such as—far from participating in more modern stages of artistic -culture—are, in the entire nature of their general outlook, not yet -liberated from the immediate popular sense. We must, however, not -regard this distinction between the Lyric of the folk-song and the -artistic poem as though it was only when reflection and the artistic -consciousness, in union with deliberate executive ability, appear -with all the elegance of such a union, that the Lyric attains to its -perfection. Such a notion would really amount to this—that a Horace, -for instance, and the Roman lyric poets generally, were to be reckoned -among the finest writers of this type, or even in their own range -that the Master Singers were preferable to the preceding epoch of -the genuine Minnesong. Such an extreme deduction from our previous -statement is not justified. What we ought to conclude is this, that -individual imagination and art directed to the service of this very -self-consistent personal life, which in fact constitutes its principle, -presupposes also, for the basis of their true perfection, a free and -self-trained recognition of imaginative idea no less than artistic -activity.</p> - -<p>(<i>γ</i>) We have our <i>final</i> phase of composition to distinguish from -those already discussed. The folk-song appears before the true -elaboration of a prosaically organized condition of actual conscious -life. Lyric poetry of the truly artistic type, on the other hand, -wrests itself away from the prosaic coordination which surrounds it, -and creates from the poet's imagination, in its acquired independence, -a new poetic world of inward observation and emotion, by means of -which, for the first time, the true content and type of expression -truly adequate to the human soul, as seen from within, becomes the -object of vital art. There is, however, over and above this, a form of -intelligence which, from this point of view, stands in a more exalted -position than the imagination of the emotional or conceptive life, -inasmuch as it is able, with more penetrative universality and more -necessary coalescence to bring its content before our free cognition -than is ever possible to art. This is <i>philosophical thought.</i> -Conversely, however, this form is attached to the abstract condition of -being exclusively evolved in the medium of thought, posited as wholly -ideal universality; and, in consequence, the concrete man may find -himself also constrained to express the content and the results of his -philosophical consciousness in a concrete way, that is, as permeated by -his temperament and sensuous perception, his imagination and feeling, -in order thereby to possess and exhaust the absolute expression of all -that engages either soul or intellect.</p> - -<p>From such a standpoint we may distinguish between two principal types -of conceptive activity. It may, in short, either be the imagination -which, straining beyond its own domain, struggles with the movement -of pure thinking, without successfully attaining the clarity and -secured exactness of philosophical exposition. In this case the Lyric -is for the most part the ebullition of a soul engaged in strife and -contention, which in its fermentation does violence both to art and -abstract thought. It transgresses one province without the ability to -make itself at home in another. Or we may <span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_213" id="Page_213">[Pg 213]</a></span>find that it is rather the -tranquil movement of philosophical thought in its essential medium, -which may seek to animate its clearly grasped and systematically -developed thoughts with emotion, to make them perceptible to sensuous -apprehension, and to exchange the explicit scientific process and -sequence in its causal necessity for that free play of particular -aspects, beneath the apparently loose connection of which art is -the more compelled to conceal their ideal bonds of association in -proportion as it is disinclined to narrow itself to the jejune style of -purely didactic exposition. As an illustration of this latter tendency, -we may point to many of Schiller's poems.</p> - -<h5>2. PARTICULAR ASPECTS OF LYRICAL POETRY</h5> - -<p>Having thus considered the general character of the content of lyric -poetry, and the mode of its expression, as also the varied grades -of culture which are more or less consonant with its fundamental -principle, it will be our further task to examine these general points -of view more nearly in the <i>detail</i> of their more important features -and relations.</p> - -<p>Here, too, I ought at starting once again to emphasize the distinction -which obtains between epic and lyrica<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_214" id="Page_214">[Pg 214]</a></span>l poetry. In our consideration -of the former we directed our attention above all to the primitive -national Epos, and merely referred incidentally to the inadequate -collateral branches, as also to the poet in his creative capacity. -This we are unable to do in the case of the type under discussion. On -the contrary, we shall find that subjects of the greatest importance -invite our review as respects the individual creative power; and, -on the other hand, in respect to the classification of the several -types in which lyrical poetry, whose general principle it is to -disintegrate and isolate the content and its configurations, is -respectively differentiated. We may define the subsequent course of our -investigation as follows:</p> - -<p><i>First,</i> our attention will be directed to the lyrical poet himself.</p> - -<p><i>Secondly</i>, we propose to examine the lyrical work of art as the -creation of the individual poet's imagination.</p> - -<p><i>Thirdly</i>, we shall classify the types which are deducible from the -general notion of lyrical composition.</p> - -<p>(<i>a</i>) <i>The Lyric Poet</i></p> - -<p>(<i>α</i>) Now the content of the Lyric embraces, as we have seen, first, -a type of contemplation, which connects the universal quality of -determinate being with its conditions, and, secondly, the manifold -character of its detailed aspects. Regarded, however, as pure -generalizations and particular points of view of emotional condition -these constituents, both of them, are nothing more than abstractions. -In order that these may acquire a vital lyrical individuality, a -principle of combination is necessary which can only be of an ideal, in -other words really personal<a name="FNanchor_7_133" id="FNanchor_7_133"></a><a href="#Footnote_7_133" class="fnanchor">[7]</a> character. Consequently the creatively -concrete person, the <i>poet</i> himself, must be further presupposed as the -focus and in fact realized content of lyrical poetry. He must be there, -however, in a form which is not carried to the point of definitive act -and deed, or to that of the evolved movement of dramatic conflicts. His -exclusive expression and activity is on the contrary restricted to the -fact that he endows his inner experience with an articulate speech such -as portrays the spiritual si<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_215" id="Page_215">[Pg 215]</a></span>gnificance of himself as subject in his -self-expression, whatever the material selected may be, and endeavours -to arouse in and keep the hearer alive to the like meaning and spirit, -the same soul-state, the similar course of reflection.</p> - -<p>(<i>β</i>) But, furthermore, the expression cannot rest alone in this -result, however successful, in so far as it is for others a free -overflooding of buoyant delight, or the resolution and reconciliation -of grief in song and lyric, or the yet profounder impulse, which issues -in the most serious emotions of heart and the most far-reaching views -of intelligence. The man who sings and can write poetry has a necessary -vocation thereto. He composes because he <i>cannot do otherwise.</i> At -the same time the external incentive, the direct invitation and the -like are by no means excluded. The great lyric poet, however, in such -a case soon swerves aside from such an external stimulus. His supreme -object is himself. To take the example once more to which we have -constantly recurred, Pindar was frequently invited to celebrate this -or that laurel-crowned victor, nay, he frequently accepted payment -therefor; and yet, for all that, it is he himself, the minstrel, who -changes places with his hero. He combines freely his own unfettered -imagination with his praise of the exploits of ancestors, or it maybe -his memory of myths; or, when he gives voice to his profound views -of life, of wealth, of mastery, of all that is great and deserving, -of the supremacy and loveliness of the Muses, and above all of the -high vocation of the singer. It is not so much the hero in the renown -that he spreads far and wide, that he honours in his poems. We are -invited to listen to him, the poet. The honour is not to him in that he -celebrates the victor, but rather to the victor that he is celebrated -by Pindar. And it is this emphatic personal sense of greatness which -constitutes the nobility of the lyric poet. Homer, as an individual -person, is in his Epos so entirely sacrificed that people nowadays -are loth to admit that he ever existed at all. His heroes live on for -ever. Pindar's heroes are for us little better than empty names. He -himself, however, the self-celebrated and self-honoured, remains before -us immortal as the poet. The fame which his heroes claim is merely an -appanage to that of the lyric singer. Even among the<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_216" id="Page_216">[Pg 216]</a></span> Romans the lyric -poet to some extent aspires to such an independent position. Suetonius -tells us, for instance, that Augustus wrote these works to Horace; <i>an -vereris, ne apud posteros tibi infame sit, quod videaris familiaris -nobis esse.</i> Horace, however, with the exception of those times, easily -demonstrable, where he writes in an <i>ex officio</i> manner of Augustus, -betrays for the most part a precisely similar proud self-consciousness. -His fourteenth ode of the third book, for example, opens with a -reference to the return of Augustus from Spain after his victory over -the Cantabrians. But the poet goes on to celebrate the fact, that on -account of the tranquillity, which the emperor has given the world, he -himself as poet is able quietly to enjoy his easy-going leisure and his -muse; he calls for garlands, unguents, and venerable wine to celebrate -the occasion, and invites in all haste his mistress—in a word, he is -simply preoccupied with the arrangements for his own banquet. We hear, -however, at this time less of his love difficulties than in his youth, -when Plaucus was consul, an occasion where he expressly says to the -messenger he despatches:</p> - -<p style="margin-left: 10%;"> -<i>Si per invisum mora janitorem</i><br /> -<i>Fiet, abito</i>.<br /> -</p> - -<p>We may regard it as an even more honourable trait of Klopstock, that he -felt in his day the independent worth of the singer, and by his free -expression of this and his regulation of his behaviour consonantly -thereto, disengaged the poet from his subservience to a court and any -or every patron,<a name="FNanchor_8_134" id="FNanchor_8_134"></a><a href="#Footnote_8_134" class="fnanchor">[8]</a> as also from a tedious and useless toying with -trifles, which is the ruin of a man. However, the fact remains that -it was no other than this very Klopstock whom, in the first instance, -the bookseller regarded as his poet. It was Klopstock's publisher in -Halle who paid him one or two thaler, it appears, for the manuscript -of his Messias, adding over and above this, however, an order for a -waistcoat and breeches, and introduced him thus set up into society, -letting it clearly be seen from the nature of such a get up that -he was responsible therefor. In some contrast to this, so at least -we are informed at a later date on evidenc<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_217" id="Page_217">[Pg 217]</a></span>e, however, that is not -irreproachable,<a name="FNanchor_9_135" id="FNanchor_9_135"></a><a href="#Footnote_9_135" class="fnanchor">[9]</a> the Athenians erected a statue to Pindar, because -he had celebrated them in one of his poems, and sent him, moreover, -twice the amount of the fine<a name="FNanchor_10_136" id="FNanchor_10_136"></a><a href="#Footnote_10_136" class="fnanchor">[10]</a> the Thebans refused to exempt him from -on account of the inordinate praise he had lavished on an alien city. -Indeed we have the statement that Apollo himself declared through the -mouth of the Pythian prophetess that Pindar was worthy of receiving -half of all the gifts which the whole of Hellas, as in custom bound, -brought to the Pythian games.</p> - -<p>(<i>γ</i>) Throughout the entire compass of lyric poetry the synthetic unity -of a single personality asserts its presence in virtue of its poetic -soul-movement. The lyric poet is, in fact, moved to express everything -that assumes a poetic form either in his emotional or intelligent -life in the song. In this type of composition Goethe is pre-eminently -noteworthy, who in all the variety of his full life was thus -continuously creative. He was unquestionably in this respect a quite -exceptional model. It is rarely that we find an artistic personality, -who, while retaining as Goethe's did, an interest so active on all -sides and is able to live a life, despite all such self-expansion, so -entirely self-possessed, so ready to transmute everything it touches -into the poetic vision. His life in its public relations, the peculiar -nature of his heart, which rather impressed with its reserve than -the ease of its approach, the indefatigable effort of his scientific -pursuits and enquiry, the general conclusions of his trained and -practical experience, his ethical maxims, the impressions, which the -varied and conflicting facts of his times made upon him, the inferences -he deduced from such, the effervescent joy of life and courage of his -youth, the well-organized force and ideal beauty of his manhood, the -comprehensive genial wisdom of his old age—all this passed into the -magic crucible of his lyrics, where the most delicate play of emotion, -no less than the most severe and painful conflicts of spirit, alike -find their expression and by this means their deliverance.</p> - -<p>(<i>b</i>) <i>The Lyric Work of Art</i></p> - -<p><i>Secondly</i>, in respect to the lyric poem as a poetic work of art, we -are no doubt in general not able to advance much.<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_218" id="Page_218">[Pg 218]</a></span> The fortuitous -character of the abundance of its many modes of expression, and -the forms of its equally varied and incalculable content make this -inevitable. The peculiarly personal nature of this class of work, -however much the same is imperatively subject to the general principles -of beauty and art, none the less brings with it the necessary -result, that the range of the formal and melodious possibilities of -its exposition admit of no theoretic definition. For our purpose, -therefore, the only question of importance is the nature of the -distinction of artistic type that obtains between the lyric and the -epic product.</p> - -<p>Upon this I will briefly draw attention to the following points of -importance:</p> - -<p><i>First</i>, the unity of the lyric composition.</p> - -<p><i>Secondly,</i> the nature of its progressive disclosure.</p> - -<p><i>Thirdly</i>, the external aspect of its verse-measure and general -exhibition.</p> - -<p>(<i>α</i>) The importance, which the Epos possesses for art lies, as already -observed, and pre-eminently so, in the case of the primitive Epopaea, -in the consummate elaboration of the perfected artistic form, which as -from the repository of the full embrace of the national spirit, places -before our vision one and the same composition in all the wealth of a -completely evolved content.</p> - -<p>(<i>αα</i>) The true lyric work of art will not undertake to present thus -before us a synthesized whole of such extension. The principle of -personality can no doubt proceed to a comprehension of subject-matter -of universal pretensions. To be able truly to enforce itself, however, -in its individual independence, it necessarily implies the collateral -principle of disintegration and isolation. At the same time a variety -of truth, phenomenal or ideal, derived from natural environment, -the memory of one's own or another's experience, from mythical and -historical events, and the like, is not therefore excluded: but such -an extension of view must not be permitted, as with the Epos, on the -ground that it belongs to the unified <i>complexus</i> of a given sphere -of reality, but is rather solely justifiable for the reason that it -springs to renewed life in the memory of the poet, and <span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_219" id="Page_219">[Pg 219]</a></span>in his impulse -and gift of vivid association.</p> - -<p>(<i>ββ</i>) We must consequently regard the intimate personal life as the -true integrating principle of the lyric poem. This inward life, taken -simply, is in part the wholly formal unity of the self-conscious -self; in part also it is split up and dispersed in the most varied -particularity, and the most diverse content of ideas, feelings, -impressions, and perceptions, whose power of combination is solely due -to the fact that it is one and the selfsame personal identity which -serves essentially as their vehicle. In order therefore that this -selfidentical subject may form the focal centre of the work of art, -it must, on the one hand, have reached the point where the mood or -situation is <i>defined</i> in its <i>concreteness</i>, and on the other it must -<i>affiliate</i> itself with this isolation of its own possessions as with -itself to the extent that it feels and pictures itself in the same. -It is only by this means that it becomes an essentially defined whole -of such a personal character, and exclusively expresses that which is -emphasized by reason of such definition, and is yet coalescent with it.</p> - -<p>(<i>γγ</i>) Lyrical in the most pertinent sense is in this connection the -emotional mood or colour as concentrated in a concrete condition, -inasmuch as the sensitive heart is that which is the most vital and -personal factor of the subjective lips. Reflection and a contemplation -which is mainly absorbed in generalization very readily tend to the -didactic, or are likely to assert what is substantive and positive in -the content under an epic mode.</p> - -<p>(<i>β</i>) With respect to our <i>second</i> point, viz., the progressive -disclosure of the lyric subject-matter, speaking generally, exact -definition is here too out of the question. I shall, therefore, -restrict myself to a few searching observations.</p> - -<p>(<i>αα</i>) The progressive exposition of the Epos is of a dilatory -description, and it expands throughout in the display of an actual -world of diversified character. In the Epos the poet projects himself -into the <i>objective</i> world, which is set before us in the independent -form and movement of its own reality. In contrast thereto it is the -emotions and reflection which in the lyric composition absorb the -given world into themselves, animate the same within this ideal -eleme<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_220" id="Page_220">[Pg 220]</a></span>nt, and, only after it is itself converted into a constituent -of this personal life, give form and expression to it in language. In -contrast to the epic principle of extension we have therefore in the -Lyric that of <i>assimilation</i>,<a name="FNanchor_11_137" id="FNanchor_11_137"></a><a href="#Footnote_11_137" class="fnanchor">[11]</a> and have above all to seek for our -effect by means of the implied ideal depth of expression rather than -the diffuseness of descriptive or explanatory detail. None the less, -however, between the extremes of an almost speechless conciseness and -the idea worked out into absolute lucidity of speech every conceivable -sort of nuance and degree of clarity is still possible. To as little -extent is it necessary that a ban be placed on all reflection of -external objects. On the contrary genuinely concrete lyric compositions -disclose the individual in his external conditions; they accept, -therefore, as an essential feature of their content, natural and -local environment. In fact there are poems entirely limited to such -descriptions. In such cases, however, it is not so much the reality -in its objective presence and its plastic presentment, as the accord -with which such objects affect the soul, the mood excited by them, -the feelings of the heart under such positive conditions, which are, -in fact, the lyric result. It is in short not this or that object as -presented to our eyes, in its several features, which ought mainly -to impress our inward vision, but the emotional forces which are -made vital in the same, and which have for their aim a similar state -of feeling and contemplation in ourselves. Romances and ballads are -perhaps the most obvious illustration of this, which, as I have -previously maintained, approach the lyrical type in proportion as they -exclusively emphasize those characteristics of a given event which are -consistent with the state of the inner life, in which the poet writes, -and disclose the course of his narrative in such a way, that we receive -a distinct and life-like echo back again of this personal temper. -For such reasons all out and out reproduction of material objects, -even though stamped with considerable emotion, nay, even the diffuse -characterization of emotional states, can only be of subordinate effect -in lyrical effort, if compared with concise concentration of effect and -the vivid and significant expression.</p> - -<p>(<i>ββ</i>) We may add that <i>episodes</i> are permissible as well to the lyric -poet; but he ought to employ them on other<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_221" id="Page_221">[Pg 221]</a></span> grounds than those which -justify their epic use. In the latter case they are implied in the -notion of the externally independent collocation of the different -aspects contained; and, in respect to the advance of the epic action, -they also are significant as points of retardation and hindrance. -Their lyrical justification is rather subjective in its character. The -living personality in short surveys his private world more rapidly; -his memory recurs to the most varied subjects on equally various -occasions; he combines material of the most divergent nature; and, -without departing from his true and fundamental emotional state, or the -object of his thought, gives free play on all sides to his imagination -and contemplation. An animating spirit of the same kind pervades the -inner poetical life, although for the most part it is impossible to say -whether this or that feature in a lyric poem is to be understood as -episodical or not. As a general rule, however, digressions, so long as -they do not violate the unity, and above all unexpected changes, witty -combinations and sudden, or even violent transitions are peculiarly -appropriate to the Lyric.</p> - -<p>(<i>γγ</i>) On account of this the nature of the forward movement and bond -of connection in this domain of poetry may be various, and in some -measure marked by excessive contrast. Generally no doubt the Lyric, -quite as little as the Epos, adopts the caprices of ordinary conscious -life, or the purely scientific consequences, or the speculative process -of philosophical thought in its necessary development. It requires -indeed a freedom and self-subsistency in its single features. But -whereas, in the case of the Epos, this relative isolation is referable -to the form of the phenomenal reality, in the type of which its -realization is centered, the lyric poet, on the contrary, communicates -to the particular emotions and ideas, in which he is himself expressed, -the character of a free self-assertion. Each and all, although equally -distrained from similar modes of feeling and observation, nevertheless, -as viewed separately, absorb his spirit, which remains concentrated -upon each severally, until it is diverted to other points of view or -other emotional states. The movement of the whole may therefore have -little to arrest its tranquil flow, but with equal right we may find it -pass without any mediation, and in one bound to material of a totally -different character. The poet, instead of following<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_222" id="Page_222">[Pg 222]</a></span> the logical -current of his thought, becomes, it would seem, in this sudden flight -of ecstatic intoxication mastered by a force, the pathos of which rules -and carries him away in spite of himself. The impulse and conflict of -such passionate intensity is so characteristic a feature of certain -forms of lyric composition, that, for example, Horace in many of his -poems is at pains to harmonize with deliberate artistic means such -apparently dislocating breaks in the poem's connection. For the rest I -must entirely pass over the various intermediate phases of treatment, -which fall between the extremes of the most lucid connection and most -even flow on the one side, and that of the unrestrained impetuosity of -passion and enthusiasm on the other.</p> - -<p>(<i>γ</i>) <i>Finally</i>, of our above three divisions of the immediate subject, -we have left us to discuss the <i>external form</i> and actual presentment -of the lyric composition. Above all we shall have to deal with <i>metre</i> -and the <i>musical accompaniment.</i></p> - -<p>(<i>αα</i>) It is obvious enough that the hexameter in its even, sustained -and none the less life-like forward movement is most exceptionally -fitted as the measure of the Epic. The demand of the Lyric is rather -for an extreme <i>variety</i> of metres with every kind of co-ordination -in their form. The material of the lyric poem in short is not the -object in the form wherein it unveils itself in Nature, but the -movement of the poet's own soul, the regularity or change of which, its -perturbation or repose, its peaceful flow or tumultuous wave and leap, -must find expression in the time-movement of the word-length, in which -such inward life is asserted. The nature of the prevailing mood and the -mode of imaginative conception throughout ought to meet with an echo in -the verse-measure itself. The lyric effusion indeed is placed in a far -more intimate relation to time, regarded as the external medium of its -communication, than the epic narrative, which consigns its phenomenal -facts to the past, and associates or interweaves them under a mode of -extension more analogous to that of spatial condition. The Lyric, in -contrast to this, displays the momentary emergence of emotion and idea -in the temporal juxta-position of their origin and elaboration. It -has therefore to clothe in artistic form the varied temporal movement -itself. To this distinctive character belongs, in the <i>first</i> place, -the<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_223" id="Page_223">[Pg 223]</a></span> more diverse sequence of long and short syllables in a more -strongly emphasized inequality of rhythmical feet; and, <i>secondly</i>, the -more varied use of the caesura verse—and <i>thirdly</i> the rounding off of -the strophes, which not only admit of abundant alternation in respect -to the comparative length of particular lines, but also relatively to -the rhythmic configuration of these on their own account and in their -immediate sequence to each other.</p> - -<p>(<i>ββ</i>) Yet more lyrical in its effect—a second feature this—is -the musical sound of words and syllables simply. The most important -examples of this are alliteration, rhyme and assonance. In the system -of versification under discussion what is predominant, as I have -already explained in a previous passage, is, on the one hand, the -ideal significance of syllables, the accent of the meaning, which -disjoins itself from the purely natural element, as taken by itself, -of their assured quantity, and then defines under the direction of -the mind their duration, emphasis and subordination; which, from a -further point of view, asserts itself in isolation as the expressly -concentrated sound of definite letters, syllables, and words. The Lyric -is pre-eminently associated with this spiritualizing process effected -by ideal significance, no less than this emphatic insistence of sound. -It in fact not merely restricts its acceptance and expression of all -that positively is or appears to the meaning which such possesses for -the inward life, but also lays hold of sound and musical tone as the -significant medium of its communication. No doubt in this sphere, too, -the element of rhythm may associate with rhyme; but even here this -is effected in a manner which is closely related to the time-beat of -music. Strictly speaking, therefore, the poetic use of assonance, -alliteration and rhyme is limited to the province of the Lyric. For -although the Epos of the Middle Ages is, in accordance with the nature -of more modern languages, unable to keep itself aloof from these forms, -this is mainly permitted for the reason that here, too, the lyrical -element is throughout more insistently active within the domain of -epic poetry itself, and effects a more forceful entrance where the -subject-matter consists of heroic songs, romances, ballads, tales, -and the like. And we find the same thing in dramatic poetry. What, -however, is the peculiar possession of the Lyric, is<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_224" id="Page_224">[Pg 224]</a></span> the diversified -configuration of rhyme, which is elaborated and perfected by means of -the recurrence of similar or the alternation of different letters, -syllables and verbal quantity in variously organized and alternated -strophes of rhyme. Such differentiation is also of undoubted service -both to epic and dramatic poetry, but only on the same ground that -rhyme itself is not excluded altogether. The Spaniards, for instance, -in the most cultured epoch of their dramatic development, gave the -freest play to such craft in the expression of passion by no means -appropriate to the genuine drama, interweaving octave rhymes, sonnets -and the like with more usual verse-measures. By so doing they at -least testify, in the continuity of such assonances and rhymes, their -predilection for the musical element in language.</p> - -<p>(<i>γγ</i>) <i>Finally</i>, lyric poetry, to a far more considerable extent -than is possible with the unassisted aid of rhyme, avails itself of -<i>music</i>, by means of which the uttered word becomes veritable melody -and song. Such a leaning may, moreover, be completely justified. Or, -in other words, the less lyric subject-matter and content possess on -their own account independence and objective stability, but are rather, -above all, of an ideal character, rooted exclusively in the personal -life, while at the same time an external medium of articulate arrest -is essential, to that extent is the demand for a decisive medium of -communication more insistent. Precisely for the reason that it remains -of ideal intention, the means it employs as a stimulus to others must -be the more effective. Such an excitant of our emotional life can only -be music.</p> - -<p>We find consequently, even in respect to external execution, that lyric -poetry is almost invariably associated with musical accompaniment. At -the same time we should note an essential gradation in this power of -combination. The romantic and above all the modern lyric, no doubt more -exceptionally so in such songs, in which the temper, the emotional mood -is predominant, and the function of music is to emphasize and expand -this inner beat of soul-life in actual melody—are no doub<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_225" id="Page_225">[Pg 225]</a></span>t most -readily adapted to such melodic fusion. The folk-song is an obvious -example which both delights in and demands a musical accompaniment. We -shall find in modern times more rarely a composer for the canzonet, -elegy, epistle, or even the sonnet. The reason of this is that in -cases where idea, reflection, nay, even emotion are made completely -explicit in the poetry, and increasingly liberated from the bare point -of spiritual selfconcentration, and, further, from the sensuous medium -of the art, the Lyric already secures, in its deliverance as speech, -a greater self-stability, and lends itself less simply to a free -association with the vague definition of music. On the other hand in -proportion as the inner life expressed is not made explicit to that -extent the aid of melody is required. How it came about, however, that -the ancients, despite the pellucid clarity of their diction, availed -themselves of music in its actual delivery, and the measure in which -they did thus make use of it, I shall have occasion to deal with -subsequently.</p> - -<p>(<i>c</i>) <i>Types of the Genuine Lyric</i></p> - -<p>With regard to specific types, in which we may classify lyrical -composition, I have already referred with more detail to some which -form the transition step from the narrative form of the Epos to the -more subjective mode of exposition. From a contrary point of view it -might seem desirable in the same way to demonstrate the beginnings of -the dramatic. This inclination, however, of passage to the animation -of the drama is exclusively and in essentials restricted to the -circumstance that the lyric poem too as conversation, without, however, -carrying the movement of action to the point of actual conflict, may -itself accept the external form of dialogue. We shall nevertheless omit -further allusion to these intermediate and hybrid stages, and restrict -our cursory examination to those forms in which the real principle of -the Lyric fully asserts itself. The main cause of this distinction is -to be found in the attitude, which the artistic consciousness assumes -relatively to its object.</p> - -<p>(<i>α</i>) To be more definite the poet—this at least is one -direction—annuls the particularity of his emotion and idea, and is -absorbed in the general contemplation of God or gods, whose greatness -and might permeates the whole of the personal life, and causes the poet -as an i<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_226" id="Page_226">[Pg 226]</a></span>ndividual person to vanish. Hymns, dithyrambs, paeans, psalms, -all belong to this class, which are moreover quite differently treated -by different peoples. I propose merely to draw general attention to the -following characteristic of such poetry.</p> - -<p>(<i>αα</i>) The poet, who is raised above the narrow limitation of his own -purely personal life and external conditions, or the ideas which are -therewith associated, replacing these with that which appears to him -and his people as absolute and divine, may, in the <i>first</i> instance, -completely depict the divine in an objective presentment, and set -forth this, as thus projected and executed for the spiritual vision of -others, to the honour and power of the glorified god. The hymns which -are ascribed to Homer are of this character. They contain above all -mythological situations and histories of the divine Being, in whose -celebration they are composed, which are not merely conceived in the -ideas of symbolism, but are clothed in the downright objectivity of the -Epos.</p> - -<p>(<i>ββ</i>) In contrast to this, <i>secondly</i>, the dithyrambic impulse, in -its more <i>personal</i> aspect of an exalted divine service—overwhelmed, -as it is, by the power of its object, shattered and stunned to its -soul-foundations—cannot, by reason of the general diffusion of its -emotional state, go so far as to present an objective image and form. -It is more akin to the lyrical absorbtion. We have here simply ecstatic -rapture of soul. The singer breaks out and forth from himself; he is -so exalted directly into the Absolute, steeped in the being and might -of whom he exultantly sings his praise of the Infinite, into the depth -whereof he plunges, or that of the natural world, in whose splendour -the profound wealth of the Godhead is declared.</p> - -<p>The Greeks, in the solemnities of their worship, have not limited -themselves for long to such mere outcries and appeals. They have -sought to intermingle with such ecstasies the narrative of, definite -mythical situations and actions. Such expositions interposed between -the effusion of lyric poetry, became gradually of most importance, and -created the drama, such narratives being asserted as action in its -lifelike form, and independently on its own account, a drama, which -again in its turn received as a constituent feature the lyrics of its -choruses.</p> - -<p>Even more sear<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_227" id="Page_227">[Pg 227]</a></span>ching in its utterance is this impulse of exultation, -this adoration, jubel and outcry of soul to the One; wherein the -individual discovers the end of conscious life and the true object of -all might and truth, no less than glory and praise, as we meet it in -many of the sublime psalms of the Old Testament. Take the words of the -thirty-third psalm, for example:</p> - -<blockquote> -<p>"Rejoice in the Lord, O ye righteous, for praise is comely for the -upright.</p> - -<p>"Praise the Lord with harp: sing unto him with psaltery and an -instrument of ten strings.</p> - -<p>"Sing unto him a new song; play skilfully with a loud noise.</p> - -<p>"For the word of the Lord is right; and all his works are done in truth.</p> - -<p>"He loveth righteousness and judgment: the earth is full of the -goodness of the Lord.</p> - -<p>"By the word of the Lord were the heavens made; and all the host of -them by the breath of his mouth."<a name="FNanchor_12_138" id="FNanchor_12_138"></a><a href="#Footnote_12_138" class="fnanchor">[12]</a></p> - -<p>Or take the twenty-ninth psalm: "Give unto the Lord, O ye mighty, give -unto the Lord glory and strength.</p> - -<p>"Give unto the Lord the honour due unto his name: worship the Lord in -the beauty of holiness.</p> - -<p>"The voice of the Lord is upon the waters: the God of glory thundereth: -the Lord is upon great waters.</p> - -<p>"The voice of the Lord is powerful, the voice of the Lord is full of -majesty.</p> - -<p>"The voice of the Lord breaketh the cedars; yea, the Lord breaketh the -cedars of Lebanon.</p> - -<p>"He maketh them to skip like a calf; Lebanon and Sirion like a young -unicorn.</p> - -<p>"The voice of the Lord divideth the flames of fire.</p> - -<p>"The voice of the Lord shaketh the wilderness; the Lord shaketh the -wilderness of Kadesh," etc.</p> -</blockquote> - -<p>An exaltation and lyric sublimity such as the above cont<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_228" id="Page_228">[Pg 228]</a></span>ain a power -of personal detachment,<a name="FNanchor_13_139" id="FNanchor_13_139"></a><a href="#Footnote_13_139" class="fnanchor">[13]</a> and is consequently less adapted to -self-absorbtion in the concrete content, wherein the imagination can -lay hold of the fact in tranquil satisfaction. It is rather inclined -to soar up in an indefinite enthusiasm, which strains to make present -to feeling and perception what is unutterable for the intelligence. -In this atmosphere of indeterminacy the individual soul is unable to -envisage its unreachable object in quiescent beauty, or enjoy its -self-expression in a work of art. Instead of a tranquil picture the -imagination sets forth external phenomena without co-ordination and in -fragments; and, inasmuch as it does not succeed with emotional effort -in any consistent articulation of its separate ideas, in its positive -artistic form, too, it employs a somewhat arbitrary and insurgent -rhythm.</p> - -<p>The <i>prophets</i>, who oppose the mass of the community, partly in the -fundamental tones of grief and lamentation over the condition of their -people, partly, too, in this feeling of alienation and decadence, carry -to yet a further extreme this type of paranetic lyric in the sublime -flame of their emotion and political indignation.</p> - -<p>In a more modern age of imitation this sublime passion, however, is -exchanged for a more artificial warmth, which easily cools and becomes -abstract. Thus, for example, we have much hymn and psalm-writing of -Klopstock, which possesses neither depth of thought, nor the tranquil -development of any religious content whatever. What is expressed -is, above all, an effort of this exaltation to the Infinite, which, -agreeably with modern scientific ideas, merely discloses the empty -incommeasurability and inconceivable might, greatness, and splendour of -God, in its contrast to the very intelligible impotence and finitude of -the poet.</p> - -<p>(<i>β</i>) From a second point of view, we have those types of lyric poetry -which may be described generally as odes, in the more modern meaning of -the term. In these, as distinguished from the type above described, it -is the <i>personal life</i> of the poet, in its independence, which asserts -itself as a fundamental feature. It is, indeed, the culmination, which -may be enforced in a twofold manner.</p> - -<p>(<i>αα</i>) From one point of view the poet may, within this new mode of -expression, select, as he previously did, a sub<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_229" id="Page_229">[Pg 229]</a></span>jective matter itself -of essential importance, such as the glory and celebration of gods, -heroes, princes, love, beauty, art, friendship, and the like, while he -displays his inner life as so completely steeped and carried away by -this content and its concreteness, that it appears as though, in this -impulse of enthusiasm, the subject has wholly mastered his soul, and is -present in it now, as the one predominant power. If this was entirely -so the facts which master him might secure, in their independence, the -plastic form, motion, and stability of an epic sculpturesque image.</p> - -<p>Or, as a converse case, it is just the personal life of the poet -himself and its greatness which he seeks to express and make real on -its own account. As for the object itself, it is that whereof he makes -himself master; he assimilates this in his own life, expresses himself -in and through this. By so doing he freely and without reserve breaks -up the more positive course of his subject with his own emotion or -reflection; he illuminates it from within; he changes it; and the final -result is that it is not so much the subject, but rather the <i>personal -enthusiasm</i> in which it has steeped him, which is most effective. In -this connection, however, we have two distinct aspects to consider. -First, there is the compelling force of the subject-matter; secondly, -we have that independent freedom of the poet which flashes into view -in its conflict with that which would otherwise master it. It is above -all the stress of this opposition, which renders inevitable the swing -and the boldness of utterance and image, the apparent absence of order -in the ideal construction and course of the poem, its digressions, -<i>lacunae</i>, and sudden transitions, and which preserves the ideal -elevation of the poet, by means of the mastery with which he is -enabled, through the artistic perfection of his work, to overcome this -disunion, and to produce an' essentially harmonious whole, which places -him, as <i>his</i> work, in relief above the greatness of his subject.</p> - -<p>It is to such a type of lyric enthusiasm that many of the Pindaric odes -are referable, whose triumphant, albeit personal glory is disclosed -in a mode of rhythm equally conspicuous for its varied movement, -and yet for all that stringently regulated measure. Horace, on the -contrary, more especially where he aims most at self-assertion, is<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_230" id="Page_230">[Pg 230]</a></span> -rather lacking in warmth and insipid. We detect here an imitative -artificiality, which vainly endeavours to conceal the purely technical -preciosity of his composition. The enthusiasm of Klopstock in the same -way is never entirely genuine. It too frequently gives the impression -of laboured artifice, despite the fact that many of his odes are rich -in true and genuine emotion, and stamped with an engaging masculine -worth and force of expression.</p> - -<p>(<i>ββ</i>) From another point of view, however, it is not at all necessary -that the content itself should be substantial or important. The poet -is himself, in his own personality, of such weight that he can attach -to even the more trifling objects worth, nobility, or at least in a -general way a more exalted interest owing to the fact that they are -embodied in his poetic work. Many of the Odes of Horace are of this -type. Klopstock, too, with many another, may be included in such a -category. In such cases it is not the importance of the material -itself, which engages the poet's effort, but on the contrary that of -the process in virtue of which he exalts what is on its own account -insignificant, either in external facts or petty occurrences, to the -height of the emotion and idea they excite in himself.</p> - -<p>(<i>γ</i>) In conclusion, the entire infinite multiplicity of lyrical -mood and reflection reaches its fullest compass in the sphere of the -<i>song</i>, in which consequently differences of national custom and -creative individuality have their freest play. Characteristics of every -extreme of diversity meet together here, and the task of adequate -classification is beset with difficulty. We will restrict ourselves to -pointing out a few of the most general character.</p> - -<p>(<i>αα</i>) We have, then, <i>first</i>, the <i>genuine song</i> intended for singing -or purely musical practice,<a name="FNanchor_14_140" id="FNanchor_14_140"></a><a href="#Footnote_14_140" class="fnanchor">[14]</a> whether in private or before others. -Much intelligible content, ideal greatness and loftiness is not -necessary. On the contrary, worth, nobility, weight of thought can only -prove an obstacle to the desire of direct self-expression. Imposing -ideas or reflections, or sublime emotions compel the artist to detach -himself from his immediate personality and its interests. And<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_231" id="Page_231">[Pg 231]</a></span> yet it -is precisely this immediacy of joy and sorrow, what we may call the -unrestricted and momentary personal experience, which ought to find its -expression in the song. And it is on this account that every folk is in -a peculiar way at home and at ease in its songs. Despite the unlimited -variety of content and of melodic exposition that offers itself -here, every song is without exception distinct from types previously -considered by virtue of the simplicity of its subject-matter, movement, -metre, verbal expression, and images. The point of departure is direct -from the soul; the movement of inspiration is not so much from one -object to another, but is, generally speaking, centered exclusively in -one and the same content, whether it be a single emotional state, or -any definite expression of delight or sorrow, that mood, in short, the -effect of which carries the heart with it. In this emotion or temper -the song persists with no interruption in its flight and impression, -quietly and simply abiding therein without any strikingly bold contrast -or transitions of idea; and it creates thereby in the even flow of its -images this one perfected whole, sometimes without any interruption -or disunion, at others in a more expansive and consequential survey, -employing therewith rhythms adapted to song or the recurrence of rhymes -easily intelligible and without any considerable complexity. Inasmuch, -however, as it possesses for the most part as its content what is -essentially transitory we are not to suppose that a nation is likely to -sing the same songs over and over again, for a hundred or a thousand -years. A people which can at all claim progressive development is -neither so poor nor so so barren as only to possess poets of the song -at one period of its life. It is just the poetry of the song, which, in -contrast to the Epopaea, does not so much die as it is forever being -awakened anew. This field of blossom starts up afresh every spring; and -it is only in the case of oppressed peoples, peoples precluded from -every advance, which are unable to experience the ever requickened -delight in poetic composition, that the old and the oldest songs are -retained. The particular song, just like the particular mood, arises, -and then passes; it animates, delights, and is forgotten. Whoever knows -or sings, for example, the songs which fifty years ago were everywhere -known and beloved? Every century<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_232" id="Page_232">[Pg 232]</a></span> strikes its own particular keynote; -the previous one sounds out of tune, until it stops altogether. None -the less, however, must every song possess not so much a revelation -of the personality of the singer as a certain community of sentiment, -which meets with response from all sides; which excites in others a -like emotion and so, too, passes from mouth to mouth. Songs which are -not generally current as such in their time are seldom of the genuine -stamp. As an essential distinction in the composition of song I will -merely emphasize two main aspects which I have already referred to. -On the one hand the poet may express his inner life in its emotions -quite openly and without reserve, more especially the feelings and -state of joyfulness, and so that he communicates completely all that -he experiences. On the other hand, and in extreme contrast to this, -he may only suffer us to surmise through his very speechlessness, -what is brought to a focus in the unopened chamber of his heart. The -first type belongs mainly to the East, and more especially to the -careless hilarity and contented expansiveness of Mohammedan poetry, -the splendid outlook of which loves to dilate itself hither and -thither in all the breadth of sensuous perception and witty conceit. -The second type, on the contrary, applies with more force to our -Northern self-concentration and intimacy of soul-life, which in its -compressed tranquillity is often only able to seize hold of objects -which are wholly external and to put suggestions in <i>them,</i> while the -essentially suppressed spirit is unable to express itself or find a -bent, but rather, like the child with whom that father in the Erl King -rides through the night and the wind, dies away with its glow on the -wick. The distinction above noticed applies also in a broader sense -to other forms of lyrical composition such as the folk-song and more -elaborate poetry; it recurs again in the simple song with many shades -and intermediate links in its variety. With regard to particular forms -applicable to this class of composition I will restrict myself to the -following examples.</p> - -<p>We may mention, to start with, the <i>folk-song</i>, which, on account -of its direct appeal, is mainly of the nature of the simple song, -being also generally adapted to singing, or, rather, requiring the -musical accompaniment. Its subject-matter is in part national exploit -and event, in which the<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_233" id="Page_233">[Pg 233]</a></span> nation is emotionally made aware of and -recalls again its most essential life; in part, too, feelings and -situations are directly expressed which relate to particular classes. -It associates, in short, civic life with its natural condition and its -closest human relations, and it does so with every variety of note, -whether of exultation or sorrow, which may duly harmonize with such. -In contrast to the above, we have, secondly, songs of a more various -and enriched culture, a culture which finds its entertainment in the -companionable amusement of all kinds of pleasantry, graceful turns -of phrase, casual occurrences, or polite modes of address, or, with -more intensity of feeling, recurs to the pathos or necessities of less -favoured conditions of life, describing therein both the facts and the -consequent feelings they excite, the poet always making his appeal -from his own breast and the facts of his own sympathetic experience. -If such songs go no further than the bare narrative, more particularly -of natural phenomena, the result is likely to be trivial and to betray -the lack of imaginative resources. The bare description of emotional -states, moreover, not unfrequently fares little better. The truth is -that our poet in such descriptions, whether of objective facts or -emotions, must not restrict his survey to the narrow outlook of direct -wishes and desires, but must already in the freedom of his intelligence -have raised himself into a more serene atmosphere wherein the main -thing of importance to himself is the satisfaction which the exercise -of his imagination has afforded. An undisturbed sense of freedom such -as this, through expansion of heart and delight in conceptive idea on -its own account, confers on many songs of Anacreon, as also certain -poems of Hafis and the Westöstliche Divan of Goethe the rarest charm of -an unfettered creative gift.</p> - -<p>There is a yet further type of composition of this general class, -to which we must concede a more exalted or, at least, a more widely -embracing content. The large majority of Protestant hymns composed for -spiritual edification are essentially songs. They express the yearning -after God, the plea for His grace, repentance, hope, trust, doubts, -faith, and the like of the religious heart; no doubt, in the first -instance, to meet the importunity of the individual soul, but at the -same time in a manner of general significance, wherein such feelings -and states of soul may or ought to apply, to a<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_234" id="Page_234">[Pg 234]</a></span> greater or less extent, -to every member of the Christian Church.</p> - -<p>(<i>ββ</i>) We may further return to another division of this class, the -<i>sonnet, sestine, elegy, epistle</i>, and a few other such modes. These -latter assert themselves as distinct from the ordinary sphere of -song previously discussed. The immediacy of feeling and expression -is emphasized in this class as a mediating bond with reflection, -and a contemplation which, while remaining alert to many features -of its subject, conceives the particular detail of perception and -soul-experience under more general points of view. Science, learning, -and, in short, a wide culture may be here effective; and if also in all -the relations thus established the personal life, which connects and -mediates in itself the particular fact with the general concept, is -and remains the insistent and predominant factor, yet the standpoint -presupposed is of a wider and more universal import than that of the -ordinary song. The Italians in particular have given us splendid -examples of a highly sensitive type of feeling and reflection in -their sonnets and sestines. Such not only directly expresses in a -given situation states of yearning, grief, longing, and the like, -or the counterfeit of external objects, with a peculiarly intimate -concentration, but includes many a diversion, many a shrewd glance -into mythology and history, whether past or present, while remaining -throughout able to return upon itself, true to the fundamental demand -of selfrestriction and concentration. The simplicity of the song is -incompatible with a culture of this kind. The exalted character of -the ode is equally disallowed. As a primary consequence of this the -possibility of actual musical delivery vanishes; but, on the other -hand, as some set-off to the absence of musical accompaniment, the -verbal expression itself, in its sound and composed rhymes, becomes a -melodic flow of speech. The Elegy, moreover, may, in the measure of its -syllables, its meditation, its comments, and the descriptive display of -emotional life, assume the form of the Epic.</p> - -<p>(<i>γγ</i>) The <i>third</i> type of composition in this class is characterized -by a mode of treatment which in recent times is most clearly -represented among us Germans in the work of Schiller. The majority of -his lyrical poems, such as those named by him Resignation, the Ideals, -the realm of Shades, Artists, the Ideal and Life, are just as little -songs in the true sense as they are odes or hymns, epistles, or elegies -in the classic sense. Their position, on the contrary, is distinct -from all these types. Their significance consists above all in the -imposing fundamental thought of their content by the force of which, -however, the poet neither appears to be carried away as a dithyrambic -poet might be, nor in the press of his enthusiasm is there any -appearance of conflict with the greatness of his subject. He remains -rather throughout completely master of the same, and unfolds all -that is therein implied from every point of view with his own poetic -reflection. And he does this in the full impulse of genuine feeling, -no less than with the comprehensive breadth of his intelligence, -expressed with a compelling force in the most admirable and full-toned -utterance and image, and yet, withal, for the most part in quite -simple, if really arresting rhythms and rhymes. These great thoughts -and fundamental interests, to which his entire life was dedicate, -<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_235" id="Page_235">[Pg 235]</a></span>appear consequently as the most intimate possession of his spirit. But -he does not sing so much as one tranquilly self-absorbed,<a name="FNanchor_15_141" id="FNanchor_15_141"></a><a href="#Footnote_15_141" class="fnanchor">[15]</a> or to a -circle of companions, as the rich-songed mouth of Goethe was wont to -do, but as a singer who delivers himself of what is on its own account -intrinsically of worth in a storehouse of all that is most excellent -and distinguished. His songs ring out, in fact, much as he says of his -bell:</p> - -<p style="margin-left: 10%;"> -Hoch über'm niedern Erdenleben<br /> -Soll sie im blauen Himmelszelt,<br /> -Die Nachbarin des Donners, schweben<br /> -Und grenzen an die Sternen weit,<br /> -Soll eine Stimme seyn von oben,<br /> -Wie der Gestirne helle Schaar,<br /> -Die ihren Schöpfer wandelnd toben<br /> -Und führen das bekränzte Jahr.<br /> -Nur ewigen und ernsten Dingen<br /> -Sei ihr metall'ner Mund geweiht,<br /> -Und stündlich mit den schnellen Schwingen<br /> -Berühr' im Fluge sie die Zeit.<a name="FNanchor_16_142" id="FNanchor_16_142"></a><a href="#Footnote_16_142" class="fnanchor">[16]</a><br /> -</p> - - - - -<h5>3. HISTORICAL EVOLUTION OF THE LYRIC.</h5> - - -<p>It will already have sufficiently appeared from what I have pointed -out in relation to the general character, as also the more detailed -features discussed with reference to the poet, the lyrical composition -and the several types of the art that to a singular degree in this -province of poetry a concrete treatment is only possible which accepts -the historical narrative as a constituent feature. The universal, which -can be set forth in its independence, does not merely remain restricted -in its compass, but is also abstract in its valid worth. And this is -<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_236" id="Page_236">[Pg 236]</a></span>so because in no other art to the like extent does the particularity -of the time, condition, and nationality, no less than the specific -idiosyncracy of individual genius, supply the determinating factor of -the content and form of the artistic product. But in proportion as the -strength of the demand forces itself on our attention that such an -historical exposition should be avoided, I feel myself obliged, in the -interests of the very variety of material comprised in the embrace of -lyric composition, to limit myself exclusively to a very partial survey -of all that I am acquainted of in this particular class of work, and in -which my lively interest could have been extended.</p> - -<p>As the basis of our general classification of the varied national and -more personal lyric compositions, as in the case of epic poetry, we -cannot do better than follow the order of those radical types under -which artistic creation generally is unfolded, and which we now know as -symbolic, classic, and romantic art. As the main division, therefore, -of our present subject-matter, we may, in other words, adopt a similar -sequence from Oriental compositions to the Lyric of the Greeks and -Romans, and then from this to the Slavonic, Romance, and German peoples.</p> - -<p>(<i>a</i>) Taking, then, the Oriental lyric first, we may observe that it -differs essentially from the lyrical composition of the West through -its inability to attach to it the independent personality and free -spirit of the poet, or that unity which<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_237" id="Page_237">[Pg 237]</a></span> characterizes every content -of romantic art, its essential infinity, reflecting, in fact, the -potential depth of the romantic soul. Such a distinction is only in -keeping with the universal principle of the East. The individual -conscious life is here, referably to its content, directly absorbed -in the detail of external fact, expressing itself under the condition -and specific relations of this inseparable unity. And, from a further -point of view, it asserts itself, without being able to secure a -firm ground of stability in itself, as opposed to what it conceives -to be of potency and substance in Nature and the conditions of human -existence, which it wrestles to reach whether through emotion or -imagination, at one time situated towards it rather in the relation -of pure opposition, at another with more freedom, but in either case -with ultimate failure. What we find here, therefore, if we confine -our attention to <i>form</i>, is not so much the poetic expression of -independent ideas over objects or their connections, as it is the bare -mirror of this unreflecting absorption,<a name="FNanchor_17_143" id="FNanchor_17_143"></a><a href="#Footnote_17_143" class="fnanchor">[17]</a> wherein the individual -consciousness does not disclose itself in its own self-concentration -as free personality,<a name="FNanchor_18_144" id="FNanchor_18_144"></a><a href="#Footnote_18_144" class="fnanchor">[18]</a> but rather in its self-annulment<a name="FNanchor_19_145" id="FNanchor_19_145"></a><a href="#Footnote_19_145" class="fnanchor">[19]</a> before -the external object or condition. Thus regarded, the Oriental lyric -frequently, particularly in its contrast to the romantic, assumes a -more objective tone. Here we shall often enough find that the poet does -not so much express facts and conditions as they affect him, but rather -as they are in themselves, a disclosure which frequently bestows on -them an independent soul of vitality of their own. For illustration we -may take that exclamation of Hafis:</p> - -<p>"Come, O come! The nightingale passeth from the soul of Hafis once -again over the scent of the roses of delight."</p> - -<p>Regarded in another light, the tendency of this lyrical poetry, by -freeing the poet from the limitations of his private individuality, -is to replace this with a kind of primitive expansion of soul, which, -however, very easily loses itself in mere boundlessness, or is merged -in a deliberate effort to express that which it accepts as object but -cannot fully penetrate, because this content is itself the formless -substance. For this reason, speaking generally, the lyric of the East, -more especially among the Hebrews, Arabs, and Persians, poss<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_238" id="Page_238">[Pg 238]</a></span>esses the -character of hymns of exaltation. With spendthrift prodigality all -greatness, might, and glory are lavished upon the creature, in order -to make all such transitory splendour vanish before the unspeakable -majesty of God; or, at least, it never is tired of stringing together -in some precious chain everything that is lovable or fair, in order to -present the same as a thankoffering to the object, be it Sultan, the -beloved, or the wine-shop, which the poet has set himself above all -things to celebrate.</p> - -<p>In conclusion, if we look more closely at form of expression in this -type of poetry, we shall find that it is mainly the <i>metaphor</i>, the -<i>image</i>, and the <i>simile</i> which are favoured. For, in the first -place, on account of the fact that he is not himself wholly free to -express his own personal life, the poet can only disclose himself in -something else, something external to himself, with the aid of life -that can compare with himself. And also we may observe that what is -here universal and substantive remains abstract; that is to say, it is -unable to merge itself in the definite form of a free individuality, so -that now, even on its own account, it is only in comparisons with the -varied phenomena of the world that it is able to envisage itself; and -we may add that both these cases, in the last instance, only possess -the worth of being able to assist some comparable approach to that One -which alone possesses significance, and is worthy of honour and praise. -These metaphors, images, and similes, however, in which the individual -soul, as it asserts itself, is exclusively identified almost to the -point of visibility, are not the actual feeling and spiritual state -itself, but rather a mode of expression which is wholly personal and -of the poet's composition. What, therefore, the lyrical artist here -loses in the concreteness of his spiritual freedom, this we find is -replaced by the freedom of his expression, which moves forward through -all the most manifold phases; that is, from the naïve simplicity of -its images and similes to every conceivable audacity and the acutest -ingenuity of novel and surprising combinations. As regards particular -nations in which we find this Oriental type of lyric represented, we -may mention, first, the Chinese; secondly, the Hindoos; thirdly, and -to a pre-eminent degree, the Hebrews, Arabs, and Persians. I cannot, -however, enter into any closer description of these.</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_239" id="Page_239">[Pg 239]</a></span></p> - -<p>(<i>b</i>) In the case of the second principal division of our present -poetic type, that is in the Lyric of the Greeks and Romans, it is the -principle of <i>classic</i> individuality which, above all, distinguishes -its character. In accordance with this principle, the artistic -consciousness, which seeks for lyrical expression, neither loses itself -in the facts of the natural world, nor exalts itself over itself to -the height of that Sublime outcry to all creation: "Let all that hath -breath praise the Lord!" Nor is it absorbed, after divesting itself -joyfully from all the bonds of finite existence, in that One Being in -which all live and move. Rather the poet here is freely merged in the -Universal, regarded as the very substance of his own spirit; and in -this personal union within himself attains his self-conscious poetic -activity.</p> - -<p>And just as the Lyric of the Greeks and Romans is distinct from that -of the <i>Orientals</i>, so too, from another point of view, it differs -from the <i>romantic.</i> In other words, instead of unveiling its depths -in the intimacy of particular moods and states of feeling, it rather -elaborates, to the point of the most explicit definition, this inward -life of its individual passion and meditation. And by doing so it even -retains, even as the expression of this inward spirit, so far as this -is permitted to the Lyric, the plastic type of classic art. All that -it communicates, in short, of the views and maxims of life and wisdom, -despite all the penetration of its general principle, nevertheless -does not dispense with the free individuality of independent thought -and conception. It expresses itself less in the wealth of image and -metaphor, than directly and categorically. At the same time, also, the -personal feeling, at one time in more general relations, at another -in the form of vision itself, is on its own account objective. In the -same mode of individuality the particular types may be classified -as distinct from each other in conception, expression, phraseology, -and verse-measure, until they reach the culminating point of their -independent elaboration. And as we have found it true of the soul -itself and its ideas, so, too, the external presentment is of more -plastic type. In other words, from a musical point or view, it -emphasizes less the ideal soul-melody of emotion than the sensuous -verbal quantity in the rhythmical measure of its movement, to which it -may further attach the complex mazes o<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_240" id="Page_240">[Pg 240]</a></span>f the dance.</p> - -<p>(<i>α</i>) With the richest originality this artistic form of Greek lyric -poetry is perfected. In the first instance we may trace it in those -<i>hymns</i> possessing a content as yet more akin to the epic mode, which -do not so much express in their epic metre a personal enthusiasm as -they set before us a plastic image of gods in deliberately objective -outlines. The next step, so far as metre is concerned, we mark in the -<i>elegiac</i> syllabic measure, which associates the pentameter with the -hexameter, which, in the regular recurrence of its ending after the -hexameter, and with its two equally divided sections, opens the way -to the complete singularity of the verse strophe. The elegy is also -throughout in its tone of the lyric type. This is so in the case of -the political elegy no less than the erotic, although, particularly -as gnomic elegy, it still closely approaches the epic insistence upon -and expression of the substantive as such, and for this reason almost -exclusively belongs to the Ionians, with whom the objective point -of view was generally predominant. In respect also to its musical -side, it is primarily the aspect of rhythm which is here successfully -worked out. And, on parallel lines with it, we may observe, thirdly, -the development of the <i>Iambic</i> poem in a novel verse-measure. This, -however, is, by reason of the keenness of its invectives, from the -first of a more subjective or personal tendency. The genuine mode of -lyrical reflection and passion, however, receives for the first time -its full development in the so-called <i>Melisian</i><a name="FNanchor_20_146" id="FNanchor_20_146"></a><a href="#Footnote_20_146" class="fnanchor">[20]</a> lyric. The metres -are more varied, more capable of change; the strophes are more rich; -the suggestions of musical accompaniment are more complete in virtue -of the nature of the accepted modulation. Each poet creates a syllabic -measure which corresponds with his or her lyrical nature. Thus Sappho -adapts one to a type of composition which is sensuous, inspired with -the glow of passion and expressed with an effect which works up to a -supreme crisis. Alcaeus moulds one in harmony with his masculine and -bolder odes. To an exceptional degree, too, the Scoliasts supply many -indications of the finer nuances of diction and metre by reason of the -variety of their content and melodic utterance.</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_241" id="Page_241">[Pg 241]</a></span></p> - -<p>Last of all, the lyric of the <i>chorus</i> is richest of all in the -wealth of what it unfolds, and not merely so in what concerns idea -and thought, boldness of transition and connection or the like, but -also relatively to its external presentment. The choral song may be -interchanged for the single voice, and the ideal movement is not -merely satisfied with the bare rhythm of speech and the modulations -of music, but summons as its associate the plastic pose and movement -of the dance. The ideal aspect of the Lyric is consequently balanced -to perfection with the sensuous character of its delivery. The -subject-matter of this type of inspired verse is the most substantive -and weighty. Such poems celebrate the power and glory of the gods, -or that of victors in the games. Greeks, who not unfrequently were -divided in their political relations, found in them the positive vision -of their national unity. And, partly for this reason, aspects of -their ideal construction are not wanting which approach the objective -standpoint of the Epic. Pindar, for example, who reaches the highest -point of attainment in this type of composition, moves with ease, as I -have already pointed out, from the external motives of his compositions -to profound observations upon the general nature of ethical principle -and divine matters, or it may be upon heroes, heroic exploit, the -foundations of States, and the like. His creative gift possesses, in -short, the plastic sense of realization quite as much as the individual -sweep of imaginative energy. On this very account, however, it is not -so much the facts which follow their independent course in the epic -manner, as the personal enthusiasm, carried away by its object so -completely that the latter appears to be the burden and product of the -soul.</p> - -<p>Later lyric verse of the Alexandrines is less an independent -development and more a mere scholastic imitation and affectation of -elegance and correctness of expression, until finally it dissipates -itself in trifling graces and pleasantries, or seeks to bind up afresh -flowers of art and life already to hand in a garland of tender feeling -and conceit, and the witty experiment of eulogy or satire.</p> - -<p>(<i>β</i>) Among the Romans lyric poetry finds a soil no doubt fashioned -for it in various ways, but of less original productive qualities. The -period of its splendour is limited<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_242" id="Page_242">[Pg 242]</a></span> mainly to the age of Augustus, in -which it is cultivated as the elaborate expression and relaxation of -cultured society; or indeed, to a considerable degree, it is rather -an affair of the clever translator or copyist, and the fruit of taste -and research, than that of spontaneous feeling and really original -conception. At the same time it must be admitted that, despite the -learning and an alien mythology, to say nothing of the preferred -imitation of Alexandrine models, where the warmth of life is least -apparent, yet as a rule the characteristics of Roman personality no -less than the individual genius of particular poets, do assert an -independent position, and, so long as we put entirely on one side -the most intimate soul and expression of the art of poetry, have -accomplished sterling and consummate results, not merely in the -province of the ode, but also in that of epistles, satires, and elegy. -On the other hand, the later type of satire, which follows as a kind of -supplement, in its bitterness toward the decadence of the times, its -goaded indignation and virtuous declamation, fails to represent the -genuine sphere of an unperturbed poetical vision just in the degree -that it possesses nothing whatever to oppose to its picture of a -demoralized present save this very indignation and abstract rhetoric of -virtuous excitement.</p> - -<p>(<i>c</i>) For this reason, consequently, it is only after more modern -nationalities have appeared that a really original content and spirit -are communicated to lyrical composition, as we have previously seen, -was the case, too, with the Epic. This is due to the German, Romance, -and Slavonic peoples, which already, in their previous pagan days, -but principally after their conversion to Christianity, both in the -Middle Ages and in more recent times, have brought into being, and -continuously elaborated in various ways, a <i>third</i> fundamental revival -of lyrical creation in what we may generally characterize as the -<i>romantic</i> art-type.</p> - -<p>In this third branch of its activity, lyric poetry is of so -overwhelming an importance that its principle is enforced, more -—especially in the first instance, relatively to the Epos, but -consequently in its more modern development and relatively to the -drama, with a far profounder significance than was possible with -either Greek or Roman. Indeed, among certain nations, even genuine -epic materials are treat<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_243" id="Page_243">[Pg 243]</a></span>ed exclusively under the type of the lyric -narrative; in this way we have compositions as to which we may find -real difficulty in deciding the class to which they more truly belong. -The cause of this conspicuous tendency towards lyric composition is -mainly due to the fact that the entire evolution of the life of these -nations is based on this very principle of subjectivity, which is -constrained to assert and clothe what is substantive and objective as -its own from its own resources, and grows more and more self-conscious -of this penetration into its own personal wealth. Such a principle -declares its vigour in its least perturbed and most complete character -among the German peoples. The Slavonic races have, on the contrary, -first to wrestle forth from the Oriental absorption in the substantive -One and Universal. Between the two we may place the Romance stock, -which are confronted, in the conquered provinces of the Roman Empire, -not merely with the residue of Roman science and culture, but a social -system more elaborate from every point of view. In the process of -self-fusion with such conditions, they inevitably lose a part of their -original character. As for the subject-matter of this poetry, we may -describe it as dealing with pretty nearly every phase of national or -individual development, capable of expressing either the religious or -secular life of these nations as it expands in ever widening range, -and through the process of the centuries reflects in varied condition -and emotional state the heart of its spiritual substance. And the -fundamental type of it is either the expression of an emotional -state, concentrated to the most intimate self-possession, whether the -immediate object of attraction be national and other events, Nature -and external environment, or simply and solely itself, or whether it -be of the nature of reflection, both searching and self-introspective, -upon all that is implied for itself in such an extension of culture. -Regarded on its formal side, the plastic character of rhythmical -versification is exchanged for the music of alliteration, assonance, -and manifold alternations of rhyme. These novel elements it makes -use of sometimes in a quite simple and unassuming manner; in other -connections with much art and invention of modes of versification -wholly distinct in character. At the same time the external delivery -becomes increasingly more elaborate in its powers of adaptation to the -accompaniment of vocal and instrumental music.</p> - -<p>In our classification of the extensive compass of this group, we cannot -do better than follow that we accepted in<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_244" id="Page_244">[Pg 244]</a></span> the case of epic poetry.</p> - -<p><i>Firsts</i> we have the lyric composition of these modern nations while -still in the state of primitive paganism.</p> - -<p><i>Secondly</i>, there is the richer development of this type in the -Christian Middle Ages.</p> - -<p><i>Thirdly</i>, there is that lyric art based in some measure on the -reawakened study of ancient art, and in part on the fundamental -principle of modern Protestantism, a principle essential to its final -elaboration.</p> - -<p>In the present work, however, I shall be unable to discuss with more -detail the characteristics of the above development. I will, by way of -conclusion, merely draw attention to one German poet, whose influence -has given in modern times a quite extraordinary impetus to the lyric -poetry of our own fatherland, and whose services in this respect are -by no means appreciated by contemporary criticism as they deserve -to be. I refer to the poet of the Messias. Klopstock is among the -great Germans, who have inaugurated the new artistic epoch of their -people. He is a great figure, who, by means of courageous enthusiasm -and superb self-respect, wrested our poetry from the stupendous -insignificance of the Gottsched<a name="FNanchor_21_147" id="FNanchor_21_147"></a><a href="#Footnote_21_147" class="fnanchor">[21]</a> period, which with its blockish -superficiality had completely destroyed the life of all that is noble -and of worth in the genius of our race; who has, in short, given us -poems fully awake to the highest demand of the poet's vocation, in a -form of thorough artistic excellence, if also somewhat austere, the -majority of which are stamped with the permanency of a classic. Some -of the odes of his youth are dedicated to a generous <i>friendship</i>, -which was to him at once symbolic of nobility, staunchness, honour, -the pride of his soul, a temple of his spirit. Others have reference -to a <i>personal</i> attachment of real emotional depth, although it is -precisely in this field that we meet with many compositions which a -critical sense can only regard as so much prose. "Selmar and Selma" -is a poem of this<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_245" id="Page_245">[Pg 245]</a></span> class, a gloomy and tedious altercation between -lovers, which, not without many tears, woe, empty yearning, and useless -feats of melancholy emotion, revolves round the one mouldy and musty -question, which of the two, Selmar or Selma, is first to die. But in -Klopstock we find at least a genuine impulse of patriotism alive in -every pore. As a good Protestant the Christian mythology, with its -sacred legends and so forth—we must except the angels, for whom he -retained as a poet a profound respect, although they can only appear -abstract and lifeless in a type of poetry such as his, which claimed -the realism of life—neither satisfied his sense of the ethical -seriousness of art, nor yet the vigour of life and an intelligence, -which aspired to something more than blind wailing and self-abasement, -was, in short, both self-respecting and actively religious. The need -of some mythology, however, and one connected with Germany impressed -him strongly as a poet, in order that he might have definite names and -characters ready to hand as a stable basis of his imaginative creation. -It is impossible to associate such patriotic sentiments with the gods -of Greece. Consequently Klopstock attempted, we may justly say from -genuine national pride, to give a renewed life to the old mythology -of Wodan, Hertha and the rest. He was unfortunately as little able -to carry his aim to the point of objective effect and sufficiency by -this adoption of names of gods, which are no longer really Germanic, -however much they may have been so, as, let us say, the imperial museum -in Regensburg is qualified to stand for the ideal of our present -political life. However strongly, then, he may have felt the need to -be able to realize in poetry and as fact in a national form a general -folk-mythology, the truth of Nature and conscious life, these twilight -gods remain entirely devoid of essential truth; we may add there is a -kind of childish self-flattery in the belief that either reasonable -people or the national faith could take such an attempt seriously. -Apart from this, as objects of interest to the imagination, the -figures of Greek mythology are elaborated in ways with incomparably -more variety, infinitely stronger appeal to our aesthetic taste, our -sense of delight and freedom. In lyric poetry, however, it is the -self-revelation of the poet that is all-important. We ought at least -to honour in our patriotic poet this his<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_246" id="Page_246">[Pg 246]</a></span> solicitude and effort, an -effort which was sufficiently effective to bear subsequent fruit, and, -even in the field of poetry, to stimulate by its suggestion composition -on similar subjects. We have, however, to conclude our review, no word -to say against the purity, excellence, and admirable influence of this -patriotic sentiment of Klopstock as expressed in his enthusiasm for the -honour and value of our German speech, and certain characters of our -former history, that of Herrmann, for example, and above all particular -German Kaisers, who in some instances have even been self-celebrated in -song. Vital in him throughout is his justifiable pride in the German -muse, and his faith in her increasing courage to contend on equal -terms and in high-spirited self-reliance with that of the Greek, the -Roman, and the Englishman. And no less a genuine reflection of his -patriotism is the nature of his survey of the royal princes of Germany, -the expectations which their character have or had it in their power -to arouse on all that generally concerns honour, art, and science, -questions of public import and spiritual objects of essential value. On -the one hand we find him expressing his contempt of our princes, who, -as he tells us, remain on their comfortable chairs, surrounded with the -tobacco smoke of courtiers, buried in present obscurity and yet deeper -to be buried in the future. Or he may express his feelings in the -lament that even Frederick II</p> - -<p style="margin-left: 10%;"> -Nicht sah, dass Deutschland's Dichtkunst sich schnell erhob,<br /> -Aus fester Wurzel daurendem Stamm, und weit,<br /> -Der Æste Schalten wurf!<a name="FNanchor_22_148" id="FNanchor_22_148"></a><a href="#Footnote_22_148" class="fnanchor">[22]</a><br /> -</p> - -<p>With pain of a like quality those vain hopes, too, return back to him, -in which he saw in Kaiser Joseph the uprise of a new world of spiritual -effort and poetry. And, finally, it is an honour to the heart of the -old veteran at least as great that he sympathizes with the present fact -that a people had shattered its fetters of every kind, had trodden -under foot the injustice of a thousand years, and for the first time -sought to found its political life on reason and right.</p> - -<p>He greets this new</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_247" id="Page_247">[Pg 247]</a></span></p> - -<p style="margin-left: 10%;"> -<span style="margin-left: 3em;">Labende, selbst nicht geträumte Sonne.</span><br /> -Geseegnet sei mir du, das mein Haupt bedeckt,<br /> -Mein graues Haar, die Kraft, die nach sechzigen<br /> -<span style="margin-left: 2em;">Fortdauert; denn sie war's, so weithin</span><br /> -<span style="margin-left: 2em;">Brachte sie mich, dass diess Erlebte!<a name="FNanchor_23_149" id="FNanchor_23_149"></a><a href="#Footnote_23_149" class="fnanchor">[23]</a></span><br /> -</p> - -<p>Nay, he will even express his gratitude to France:<a name="FNanchor_24_150" id="FNanchor_24_150"></a><a href="#Footnote_24_150" class="fnanchor">[24]</a></p> - -<p style="margin-left: 10%;"> -Verzeiht, O Franken (Namen der Bruder ist<br /> -Der edle Name) dass ich den Deutschen einst<br /> -Zurufte, das zu fliehen, warum ich<br /> -<span style="margin-left: 1em;">Ihnen jetzt flehe, euch nachzuahmen.</span><br /> -</p> - -<p>And, naturally, the acerbation of the poet was all the more bitter, -when this fair dawn of freedom changed to a day that was steeped in -horror and blood, one that murdered liberty. Klopstock, however, was -unable to give poetical expression to such painful feelings. What he -did find the opportunity to say was all the more prosaic, without -definite structure and logical consequence on account of the fact that -he had no higher purpose,<a name="FNanchor_25_151" id="FNanchor_25_151"></a><a href="#Footnote_25_151" class="fnanchor">[25]</a> veiled in such facts, to set off against -his disappointed hope. His genius was in short entirely blind to any -more profound demand of reason in the facts of such a revolution.</p> - -<p>The greatness of Klopstock consists then essentially in his national -sympathies, his keen sense of freedom, friendship, love, and his -staunch Protestantism. We may justly honour him for his noble character -and his noble art, for his effort and achievement. And if, too, in many -directions he shares the limitations of his own times, and in truth is -responsible for many odes that are solely of interest to the critic, -the grammarian, the metrist, odes deficient in all poetic vitality, we -may affirm, nevertheless, that with the single exception of Schiller, -we shall find in our subsequent literature no more noble figure, no -disposition of such serious and masculine independence.</p> - -<p>We have, indeed, to compare with him Schiller and Goethe, who are not -merely the poetic exponents of their own times in a spirit resembling -his own, but in their experience as poets are of course far more -comprehensive. And, above all, in the songs of Goethe we Germans -unquestionably possess the most consummate, profound, and influential -poetic compositions of modern times. If they are wholly an expression -of the poet they are equally the treasure of his people; and, in fact, -as the genuine growth of his native soil, are completely in accord with -the fundamental tones of our national life and genius.</p> - -<hr class="r5" /> -<div class="footnote"> - -<p><a name="Footnote_1_127" id="Footnote_1_127"></a><a href="#FNanchor_1_127"><span class="label">[1]</span></a> <i>Subjectivität.</i> Individual self-conscious life.</p></div> - -<div class="footnote"> - -<p><a name="Footnote_2_128" id="Footnote_2_128"></a><a href="#FNanchor_2_128"><span class="label">[2]</span></a> <i>Das Subject</i>, here the individual consciousness which -composes.</p></div> - -<div class="footnote"> - -<p><a name="Footnote_3_129" id="Footnote_3_129"></a><a href="#FNanchor_3_129"><span class="label">[3]</span></a> <i>Ergusses,</i> the pouring out into a mould.</p></div> - -<div class="footnote"> - -<p><a name="Footnote_4_130" id="Footnote_4_130"></a><a href="#FNanchor_4_130"><span class="label">[4]</span></a> Vol. iv, pp. 169-172.</p></div> - -<div class="footnote"> - -<p><a name="Footnote_5_131" id="Footnote_5_131"></a><a href="#FNanchor_5_131"><span class="label">[5]</span></a> This appears to be the meaning of the words <i>die letzte -Music eines nationalen Inneren.</i></p></div> - -<div class="footnote"> - -<p><a name="Footnote_6_132" id="Footnote_6_132"></a><a href="#FNanchor_6_132"><span class="label">[6]</span></a> I presume by <i>Nachhülfe</i> Hegel practically means imitation -rather than translation. It may be very much doubted whether any -composition, involving a change of language, can give anything but the -faintest knowledge of the original folk-song. Goethe's genius could -produce poetry out of strange materials, but he could not reproduce the -music of another medium.</p></div> - -<div class="footnote"> - -<p><a name="Footnote_7_133" id="Footnote_7_133"></a><a href="#FNanchor_7_133"><span class="label">[7]</span></a> <i>Subjektiver Art</i>.</p></div> - -<div class="footnote"> - -<p><a name="Footnote_8_134" id="Footnote_8_134"></a><a href="#FNanchor_8_134"><span class="label">[8]</span></a> Or as the text runs, "and as everybody's poet."</p></div> - -<div class="footnote"> - -<p><a name="Footnote_9_135" id="Footnote_9_135"></a><a href="#FNanchor_9_135"><span class="label">[9]</span></a> Pausanias, I, c. 8.</p></div> - -<div class="footnote"> - -<p><a name="Footnote_10_136" id="Footnote_10_136"></a><a href="#FNanchor_10_136"><span class="label">[10]</span></a> Æschines, ep. 4.</p></div> - -<div class="footnote"> - -<p><a name="Footnote_11_137" id="Footnote_11_137"></a><a href="#FNanchor_11_137"><span class="label">[11]</span></a> <i>Zusammengezogenheit.</i> The idea of concentration is also -present.</p></div> - -<div class="footnote"> - -<p><a name="Footnote_12_138" id="Footnote_12_138"></a><a href="#FNanchor_12_138"><span class="label">[12]</span></a> I have taken the revised translation.</p></div> - -<div class="footnote"> - -<p><a name="Footnote_13_139" id="Footnote_13_139"></a><a href="#FNanchor_13_139"><span class="label">[13]</span></a> <i>Äussersichseyn.</i> The being beside or aloof from oneself, -not so much in the sense of infatuation as ecstasy.</p></div> - -<div class="footnote"> - -<p><a name="Footnote_14_140" id="Footnote_14_140"></a><a href="#FNanchor_14_140"><span class="label">[14]</span></a> I presume Hegel means this by the words <i>nur zum -Trällern</i>; it might mean "merely to be hummed."</p></div> - -<div class="footnote"> - -<p><a name="Footnote_15_141" id="Footnote_15_141"></a><a href="#FNanchor_15_141"><span class="label">[15]</span></a> <i>Still in sich</i>.</p></div> - -<div class="footnote"> - -<p><a name="Footnote_16_142" id="Footnote_16_142"></a><a href="#FNanchor_16_142"><span class="label">[16]</span></a> High above the life of earth beneath it shall wave in the -blue band of heaven, neighbour to the thunder, on the boundary of the -starry world. It shall be a voice from above, ay, as the bright choir -of the stars, who praise their Creator in their motion and conduct the -garlanded year. Its voice of bronze is dedicate to eternal and earnest -matters alone, and, hour by hour, as it swiftly swings backwards and -forwards, it is one with Time in its flight.</p></div> - -<div class="footnote"> - -<p><a name="Footnote_17_143" id="Footnote_17_143"></a><a href="#FNanchor_17_143"><span class="label">[17]</span></a> <i>Einlebung.</i> This vital fusion with the object.</p></div> - -<div class="footnote"> - -<p><a name="Footnote_18_144" id="Footnote_18_144"></a><a href="#FNanchor_18_144"><span class="label">[18]</span></a> <i>In seiner in sich Zurückgenommenen Innerlichkeit</i>.</p></div> - -<div class="footnote"> - -<p><a name="Footnote_19_145" id="Footnote_19_145"></a><a href="#FNanchor_19_145"><span class="label">[19]</span></a> <i>In seinem Aufgehohenseyn.</i></p></div> - -<div class="footnote"> - -<p><a name="Footnote_20_146" id="Footnote_20_146"></a><a href="#FNanchor_20_146"><span class="label">[20]</span></a> That is, of the isle of Melos, Sappho's birthplace.</p></div> - -<div class="footnote"> - -<p><a name="Footnote_21_147" id="Footnote_21_147"></a><a href="#FNanchor_21_147"><span class="label">[21]</span></a> Readers of the Xenien of Goethe and Schiller will recall -the unsparing attacks which were directed against this formalist and -pedant.</p></div> - -<div class="footnote"> - -<p><a name="Footnote_22_148" id="Footnote_22_148"></a><a href="#FNanchor_22_148"><span class="label">[22]</span></a> Even Frederick II "did not see that the art of German -poesy was raising itself swift on high from the enduring stock of a -stable root, and spread the shade of its branches far abroad."</p></div> - -<div class="footnote"> - -<p><a name="Footnote_23_149" id="Footnote_23_149"></a><a href="#FNanchor_23_149"><span class="label">[23]</span></a> He greets this new "reawakened sun, no mere dream at -least of mine. Verily I bless thee, who sweepest over my head, my grey -hairs, the strength of me that still endures after its sixty years. Ay, -for was it not this strength which has carried me so far to see this -very vision!"</p></div> - -<div class="footnote"> - -<p><a name="Footnote_24_150" id="Footnote_24_150"></a><a href="#FNanchor_24_150"><span class="label">[24]</span></a> "Forgive me, brother of France, and brotherhood is the -noblest tie after all, that I once cried to my Germans to flee from -that, which I now implore them to follow—imitation of you." The -reference is of course to the French Revolution.</p></div> - -<div class="footnote"> - -<p><a name="Footnote_25_151" id="Footnote_25_151"></a><a href="#FNanchor_25_151"><span class="label">[25]</span></a> Hegel may mean that Klopstock was unable to see the real -benefits which would result from the French Revolution despite its -apparent failure. The sentence which follows would, however, suggest an -alternative interpretation that the poet was unable to see the higher -demand which the facts of Revolution made upon the French people, -and which from the first, that is, even when Klopstock admired them, -they did not either frankly face or successfully respond to. I think, -indeed, this latter is most probable.</p></div> - - -<hr /> -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_248" id="Page_248">[Pg 248]</a></span></p> -<h4><a name="C_DRAMATIC_POETRY" id="C_DRAMATIC_POETRY">C. DRAMATIC POETRY</a></h4> - - -<p>The reason that dramatic poetry must be regarded as the highest phase -of the art of poetry, and, indeed, of every kind of art, is due to -the fact that it is elaborated, both in form and substance, in a -whole—that is the most complete. For in contrast to every other sort -of sensuous <i>materia</i>, whether it be stone, wood, colour, or tone, that -of human speech is the only medium fully adequate to the presentation -of spiritual life; and further, among the particular types of the art -of articulate speech, dramatic poetry is the one, in which we find the -objective character of the Epos essentially united to the subjective -principle of the Lyric. In other words it presents directly before -our vision an essentially independent action as a definite fact, -which does not merely originate from the personal life of character -under the process of self-realization, but receives its determinate -form as the result of the substantive interaction in concrete life of -ideal intention, many individuals and collisions. This mediated form -of epic art by means of the intimate personal life of an individual -viewed in the very pre<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_249" id="Page_249">[Pg 249]</a></span>sence of his activity does not, however, -permit the drama to describe the external aspects of local condition -and environment, nor yet the action and event itself in the way that -they are so described in the epic. Consequently, in order that the -entire art-product may receive the full animation of life, we require -its complete scenic representation. And, finally, the action itself, -regarded in the full complexus of its ideal and external reality, is -adapted to two distinct types of composition of the most opposite -character, the predominant principles of which, regarded severally -as the tragic and comic type, create in their turn also a further -fundamental and specific point of view in our attitude to the dramatic -art.</p> - -<p>Starting then from the vantage of these general observations we may -indicate the course of our inquiry as follows:</p> - -<p><i>Firsts</i> we propose to consider the dramatic composition, both in its -general and more detailed features, in the contrast it presents to epic -and lyrical poetry.</p> - -<p><i>Secondly</i>, our attention will be directed to its scenic presentation -and the conditions of this necessity.</p> - -<p><i>Thirdly</i>, we shall pass under review the different types of dramatic -poetry as we find them realized in the concrete facts of past history.</p> - - -<h5><a name="I_THE_DRAMA_AS_A_POETICAL_ART-PRODUCT" id="I_THE_DRAMA_AS_A_POETICAL_ART-PRODUCT">1. THE DRAMA AS A POETICAL ART-PRODUCT</a></h5> - - -<p>What we have, in the first instance, to define more emphatically is the -poetic aspect of the dramatic composition as such, that is to say in -its independence of the fact that the same is necessarily presented to -our direct vision on the stage. Our investigation of this will do well -to concentrate itself on the following points:</p> - -<p><i>Firsts</i> there is the general principle of dramatic poetry.</p> - -<p><i>Secondly</i>, we have the several specific types of dramatic composition.</p> - -<p><i>Thirdly</i>, there is the relation which obtains between these and the -public audience.</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_250" id="Page_250">[Pg 250]</a></span></p> -<p>(<i>a</i>) <i>The Principle of Dramatic Poetry</i></p> - -<p>The demand of the drama, in the widest sense, is the presentation of -human actions and relations in their actually visible form to the -imaginative consciousness, that is to say, in the uttered speech of -living persons, who in this way give expression to their action. -Dramatic action, however, is not confined to the simple and undisturbed -execution of a definite purpose, but depends throughout on conditions -of collision, human passion and characters, and leads therefore to -actions and reactions, which in their turn call for some further -resolution of conflict and disruption. What we have consequently -before us are definite ends individualized in living personalities and -situations pregnant with conflict; we see these as they are asserted -and maintained, as they work in co-operation or opposition—all in a -momentary and kaleidoscopic interchange of expression—and along with -this, too, the final result presupposed and issuing from the entirety -of this interthreading and conflicting skein of human life, movement, -and accomplishment, which has none the less to work out its tranquil -resolution. The mode of poetical composition adapted to this novel type -of content can be, as already suggested, no other than a mediating -union of the principles of epic and lyrical art respectively.</p> - -<p>(<i>α</i>) The <i>first</i> point of importance we have to settle to our -satisfaction is that of the <i>time</i> at which dramatic poetry is able -to assert itself in all its predominance. Drama is the product of an -already essentially cultured condition of national life. It already -presupposes as essentially a feature of past history not only the -primitive poetic period of the genuine Epos, but also the independent -personal excogitation of lyrical rapture. The bare fact that, while -combining these two points of view, it is satisfied with neither -sphere in its separation proves that this is so. And in order that -we may have this poetic combination the free self-consciousness of -human aims, developments and destinies must be already fully alert -and awake, must have attained, in short, a degree of culture such as -is only possible in the intermediate and later epochs of a nation's -development. For this reason, too, the greatest exploits and events -of a nation's primitive history are rather of an epic than a dramatic -type. Such are features of the national existence for the most part -related to communities outside it, such as the Trojan war,<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_251" id="Page_251">[Pg 251]</a></span> or the wave -of popular migration, as illustrated in the Crusades, or the national -resistance to a common enemy, as was the case in the war of Greece -against Persia. It is only at a later stage that we meet with the more -stable independence of single heroes, who create for themselves and out -of themselves in their isolation definite ends, and carry through the -undertakings they imply.</p> - -<p>(<i>β</i>) We may add the following remarks upon the nature of this -<i>mediation</i> between the opposed principles of <i>epic</i> and <i>lyric poetry.</i></p> - -<p>The Epos already makes an action visible to our imaginative sense. It -is, however, here presented as the substantive entirety of a national -spirit under the form of definite events and exploits of external life, -in which personal volition, the individual aim and the externality of -vital conditions, together with the obstructions which such external -facts present, are retained in an equal balance. In the Lyric, on the -contrary, it is the individual person, which is emphasized in the -independence of his subjective life and as such expressed.</p> - -<p>(<i>αα</i>) In combining these two points of view drama has in the <i>first</i> -place, following in this respect the Epos, to bring before our vision -an event, action, or practical affair. But above all in everything that -is thus presented the factor of bare externality must be obliterated, -and in, its place the self-conscious and active personality is posited -as the paramount ground and vital force. The drama, in short, does -not take exclusive refuge in-the lyric presence of soul-life, as such -stands in contrast to an external world, but propounds such a life -in and through <i>its</i> external realization. And in virtue of this -the event does not appear to proceed from external conditions, but -rather from personal volition and character; it receives in fact its -dramatic significance exclusively in its relation to subjective aims -and passions. At the same time the individual is not left exclusively -rooted in his self-exclusive independence; he comes to his own through -the peculiar nature of the conditions in which he is placed, and -subject to which his character and purpose become the content of his -volitional faculty, quite as much so in fact as in virtue of the -nature of the particular purpose itself <span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_252" id="Page_252">[Pg 252]</a></span>in its opposition to and -conflict with other ends. Consequently the dramatic action in question -must submit to a process of development and collision with other -forces, which themselves, on their own account, and even in a contrary -direction to that willed and intended by the active personality, effect -the ultimate course of the events through which the personal factor, -in its essential, characteristics of human purpose, personality, and -spiritual conflict, is asserted. This substantive or objective aspect, -which is enforced along with the individual character, in other -respects acting independently from its own ideal resources, is no other -than the very point of view which we find effective and vital in the -principle of dramatic poetry, when it coincides with that of the epic -composition.</p> - -<p>(<i>ββ</i>) However much, therefore, we may have as a centre of attraction -the intimate soul-life of particular men and women, nevertheless -dramatic composition cannot rest content with the purely lyrical -conditions of the emotional life; nor can the poet of such merely limit -his sympathy to the dusty record of exploits that are already complete, -or, speaking generally, merely describe the experience of enjoyment -or other states of emotional or contemplative life. The drama, on the -contrary, has to exhibit situations and the spiritual atmosphere that -belongs to them as definitely motived by the individual character, -which is charged with specific aims, and which makes these an effective -part of the practical content of its volitional self-identity. The -definition of soul-life, therefore, in the drama passes into the -sphere of impulse, the realization of personality by means of active -volition, in a word, effective action; it passes out of the sphere -of pure ideality, it makes itself an object of the outer world, and -inclines itself to the concrete facts of the epic world. The external -phenomenon, however, instead of attaining existence in the bare fact of -an event, is here, in the view of the acting character himself, charged -with the opinions and aims he forms on his own account. Action is here -the executed will, which as such is at the same time <i>recognized</i>, -recognized, that is, not merely in its origin and point of departure -from the soul-life, but also in respect to its ultimate purpose. In -other words, all that issues from the action, issues, so far as the -personality in question is concerned, from himself, and reacts thereby -on his personal<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_253" id="Page_253">[Pg 253]</a></span> character and its circumstances. This constant -relation of the entire complexus of external condition to the soul-life -itself of the self-realized and self-realizing individuality, who is -at once the basis and assimilating force of the entire process, marks -the point where dramatic poetry falls in line with the truly lyrical -principle.</p> - -<p>(<i>γγ</i>) It is only when thus regarded that human action asserts itself -as <i>action</i> in the supreme sense, that is, as actual execution of -ideal intentions and aims with the realization of which the individual -agent associates himself as with himself, discovers himself and his -satisfaction therein, and thereupon further takes his stand with his -entire being in all that proceeds from it as a constituent of the -objective world. A character which is dramatic plucks for himself the -fruit of his own deeds.</p> - -<p>Inasmuch, however, as the interest, in a dramatic sense, restricts -itself to the personal aim, whose hero the active personality is, and -it is only necessary in the artistic work to borrow from the external -world so much as is bound in an essential relation to this purpose, -which originates in self-conscious life, for this reason the drama is -<i>primarily</i> of a more abstract nature than the epic poem. For on the -one hand the action, in so far as it reposes in the self-determination -of character, and is deducible from this vital source and centre, does -not presuppose the epic background of an entire world through all the -varied aspects and ramifications of its positive realization, but is -concentrated in the simpler definition of circumstance subject to which -the individual man is absorbed in his immediate purpose and carries -the same to accomplishment. And from a further point of view we have -not here the type of personality which asserts its development to our -vision in the <i>entire complexity</i> of national qualities as such are -displayed by the epic, but rather character viewed in <i>direct</i> relation -to its action, character which possesses a <i>definite</i> end directed to -spirit life in its universality. This end or purpose, this eventual -fact on which it depends, is placed in a more exalted position than -is possible to the extension of the purely individual life, which -appears inclusively as living organ and animating vehicle of<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_254" id="Page_254">[Pg 254]</a></span> the same. -A more widely extended unveiling of character under the most varied -aspects which are present either in no connection at all or only in -a more remote one to its action, as we find it concentrated on <i>one</i> -single point of interest would be a superfluity; consequently in this -respect, too, that is, in its relation to the active personality, -dramatic poetry ought to be more simply concentrated than epic poetry. -The same generalization is applicable to the number and variety of -the characters represented. For in virtue of the fact, as previously -insisted, that the movement of the drama is not thrown upon the -background of a national existence essentially complete in its -envisagement of every conceivable variety of class, age, sex, activity, -and so forth, but on the contrary, rivets our attention throughout -on <i>one</i> fundamental purpose and its achievement, a realization of -objective fact so extended and intricate as this would not merely be -ineffective, but would actually impair the result proposed. At the -same time, however, and <i>secondly</i>, the end and content of an action -is only dramatic by reason of the fact that on account of its defined -character, in the distinctive qualities of which the particular -personality itself can alone lay hold of it under equally definite -conditions, it calls into being in other individuals other objects -and passions opposed to it, This pathetic excitant<a name="FNanchor_1_152" id="FNanchor_1_152"></a><a href="#Footnote_1_152" class="fnanchor">[1]</a> may, no doubt, -in each separate active agent, assume the form of spiritual, ethical, -and divine forces, such as duty, love to fatherland, parents, wife, -relations, and the like. If, however, this essential content of human -feeling and activity is to assert itself as dramatic it must in its -specialization <i>confront</i> us as distinct ends, so that in every case -the action will inevitably meet with obstruction in its relation -to other active individuals, and fall into subjection to changing -conditions and contradictions, which alternately prejudice the success -of their own particular fulfilment. The genuine content, the essential -operative energy throughout may therefore very well be the eternal -forces, the essentially explicit ethical State, the gods of vital -reality, in a word the divine and the true, but it is not these in the -might of their tranquillity, in that condition, so to speak, wherein -the unmoved gods<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_255" id="Page_255">[Pg 255]</a></span> abide, saved from all action, as some serene figures -of sculpture self-absorbed in a state of blessedness. What we have here -is the divine in its community, as content, that is, and object of -human personality, as concrete existence in its realization,<a name="FNanchor_2_153" id="FNanchor_2_153"></a><a href="#Footnote_2_153" class="fnanchor">[2]</a> invited -to act and charged with movement.</p> - -<p>If, however, as above described, the godlike presence constitutes -the most vital objective truth in the external precipitate<a name="FNanchor_3_154" id="FNanchor_3_154"></a><a href="#Footnote_3_154" class="fnanchor">[3]</a> of -human action, then, <i>thirdly</i>, the deciding factor in the course and -original departure of such an evolution and conflict cannot reside with -particular individuals, which are placed in a relation of opposition -to one another; it must be referred to the divine presence itself, -regarded as essential totality: and for this reason, the drama, it -matters not in what form it may be shaped, will have to propound to -us the vital energy of a principle of Necessity which is essentially -self-supporting, and capable of resolving every conflict and -contradiction.</p> - -<p>(<i>γ</i>) Consequently, we have before everything else the demand made -on the dramatic <i>poet</i> in his creative capacity, that to the fullest -extent his intelligence is awake to that ideal and universal substance -which is at the root of human ends, conflicts, and destinies. He must -fully acquaint himself with all the contradictions and developments -which the particular action will, under the proposed conditions, -necessarily involve and display. He must not merely be aware of them -in so far as they originate in personal passion and the specific -characterization of particular individuals, or as he finds such -related to the actual content of human designs and resolves; but also -in so far as they are simply referable to the external relations -and circumstances of concrete life. And, along with this, it should -be within his powers to recognize what the real nature of these -paramount forces are, which apportion to man the just guerdon of his -achievements. The rightful claim, no less than the wrongful misuse -of the passions, which storm through the human heart, and excite to -action, must lie disclosed to him with equal clarity<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_256" id="Page_256">[Pg 256]</a></span>, in order that -precisely in those cases where the ordinary vision can only discover -the ascendancy of obscurity, chance, and confusion, he, at least, will -find revealed the actual selfaccomplishment of what is the essence of -reason and truth itself. It follows, therefore, that the dramatic poet -ought as little to confine his efforts to the indefinite exploration -of the depths of emotional life, as the one-sided retention of any -single exclusive mood of soul-life, or any limited partiality in -the type of his sense-perception and spiritual outlook generally. -He ought, rather, to exclude nothing from his vision that may be -embraced by the widest expansion of Spirit conceivable. And this is -so because the spiritual powers which are exclusively distinct in the -mythological Epos, and which, by virtue of the many-sided aspects of -<i>actual individualization</i><a name="FNanchor_4_155" id="FNanchor_4_155"></a><a href="#Footnote_4_155" class="fnanchor">[4]</a>tend to lose the <i>clear definition</i> of -their significance, assert themselves in dramatic poetry in consonance -with their simple substantive content as pathos altogether, and as -apart from individual characters. The drama is, in fact, the resolution -of the one-sided aspect of these powers, which discover their -self-stability in the dramatic character. And this is so whether, as -in tragedy, they are opposed to such in hostility, or, as in comedy, -they are displayed within these characters themselves, without further -mediation, in a condition of resolution.</p> - -<p>(<i>b</i>) <i>Dramatic Composition</i></p> - -<p>In discussing the drama as a concrete work of art, I propose to -emphasize, briefly, the following fundamental points:</p> - -<p><i>First</i> there is the unity of the same viewed in contrast to that of -the Epos and the lyric poem.</p> - -<p><i>Secondly</i>, we have to consider the articulation of its parts, of its -separate parts and their development.</p> - -<p><i>Thirdly</i>, there is the external aspect of diction, dialogue, and -verse-measure.</p> - -<p>(<i>α</i>) What we have in the first instance to observe and, from the -broadest point of view, to establish with regard to the unity of the -drama, is connected with a remark made in a previous passage to the -effect that dramatic poetry, in contradistinction to the Epos, must -be more strenuously self-co<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_257" id="Page_257">[Pg 257]</a></span>ncentrated. For, although the Epic makes -a specific event its centre of unity, this is none the less expanded -over a wide and manifold field of the national existence, and may -break up into very various episodes and the independent presentation -which belongs to each as parts of the entire panorama. An analogous -appearance of merely general connection, on grounds which are converse -to the above, is permissible to certain types of lyrical poetry. -Inasmuch, however, as in dramatic poetry, from one point of view, -that epic foundation, as we have seen, falls away—and as, otherwise -regarded, the individual characters do not find their expression -under the insulation proper to lyric expression, but rather assert -in such a way their mutual relations to one another, by means of the -opposed features of their characterization and aims, that it is just -this personal relation which constitutes the ground of their dramatic -realization—it follows, as by a law of necessity, that the synthetic -unity of the entire composition is of a more stringent character. Now -this more restricted homogeneity is quite as much objective as it is -ideal in its nature. It is objective relatively to the features of the -practical content of the objects, which the different characters carry -out in a condition of conflict. It is ideal or subjective in virtue of -the fact that this essentially substantive content appears in dramatic -work as the passion of particular characters, so that the ill-success -or achievement, fortune or misfortune, victory or defeat, essentially -affect the individuals, whom such concern, in their actual intention.<a name="FNanchor_5_156" id="FNanchor_5_156"></a><a href="#Footnote_5_156" class="fnanchor">[5]</a></p> - -<p>The more obvious laws of dramatic composition may be summarized in the -time-honoured prescription of the so-called unities of place, time, and -action.</p> - -<p>(<i>αα</i>) The inalterability of one exclusive <i>locale</i> of the action -proposed belongs to the type of those rigid rules, which the French -in particular have deduced from classic tragedy and the critique of -Aristotle thereupon. As a matter of fact, Aristotle merely says<a name="FNanchor_6_157" id="FNanchor_6_157"></a><a href="#Footnote_6_157" class="fnanchor">[6]</a> -that the duration of the tragic <span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_258" id="Page_258">[Pg 258]</a></span>action should not exceed at the most -the length of a day. He does not mention the unity of place at all; -moreover, the ancient tragedians have not followed such a principle -in the strict sense adopted by the French. As examples of such a -deviation, we have a change of scene both in the Eumenides of Æschylus -and the Ajax of Sophocles. To a still less extent can our more modern -dramatic writing, in its effort to portray a more extensive field of -collision, <i>dramatis personae</i> of whatever kind and incidental event, -and, in a word, an action the ideal explication of which requires, -too, an external environment of greater breadth, subject itself to -the yoke of a rigid identity of scene. Modern poetry, in so far, that -is, as its creations are in harmony with the romantic type, which as -a rule displays more variety and caprice in its attitude to external -condition, has consequently freed itself from any such demand. If, -however, the action is in truth concentrated in a few great motives, so -that it can avoid complexity of external exposition, there will be no -necessity for considerable alternation of scene. Indeed, the reverse -will be a real advantage. In other words, however false such a rule -may be in its purely conventional application, it contains at least -the just conception that the constant transition of scene, without -any particular reason why we should have one more than another, is -obviously quite inadmissible. The dramatic concentration of the action -ought necessarily to assert itself also in this external aspect, and -thus present a contrast to the Epos, which is permitted in the most -varied way to adapt itself to the fresh expatiation in the form of -the spatial condition and its changes. Moreover, from a further point -of view, the drama is not, as the Epos, composed exclusively for the -imaginative sense, but for the direct vision of our senses. In the -sphere of the pure imagination we can readily pass from one scene to -another. In a theatrical representation, however, we must not put -too great a strain on the imaginative faculty beyond the point which -contradicts the ordinary vision of life. Shakespeare, for example, -in whose tragedies and comedies there is a very frequent change of -scene, had posts put up with notices attached to them indicating -the particular scene on view. A device of this kind is a poor sort -of affair, and can only impair the dramatic effect. For this reason -the unity of place is at least commendable to the extent that its<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_259" id="Page_259">[Pg 259]</a></span> -intelligibility and convenience are <i>primâ facie</i> assured, in so far, -that is, that all confusion is thus avoided. But after all, no doubt, -much may still be trusted to the imagination, which would conflict with -our ordinary perception and notion of probability. The most convenient -course in this, as in other matters, is a happy mean; in other words, -while not wholly excluding the claim of purely natural fact and -perception, we may still permit ourselves considerable license in our -attitude to both.</p> - -<p>(<i>ββ</i>) The unity of <i>time</i> is a precisely similar case. In the pure -realm of imaginative idea we may no doubt, with no difficulty, combine -vast periods of time; in the direct vision of perception we cannot -so readily pass over a few years. If the action is, therefore, of a -simple character, viewed in its entire content and conflict, we shall -do best to concentrate the time of such a conflict, from its origin -to its resolution, in a restricted period. If, on the contrary, it -demands character richly diversified, whose development necessitates -many situations which, in the matter of time, lie widely apart from -one another, then the formal unity of a purely relative and entirely -conventional duration of time will be essentially impossible. To -attempt to remove such a representation from the domain of dramatic -poetry, on the <i>primâ facie</i> ground that it is inconsistent with the -strict rule of time-unity would simply amount to making the prose of -ordinary facts the final court of appeal, as against the truth of -poetic creation. Least of all need we waste time in discussing the -purely empirical probability that as audience we could, in the course -of a few hours, witness also, directly through our sense, merely the -passage of a short space of time. For it is precisely in the case -where the poet is most at pains to illustrate this conclusion that, -from other points of view, he wellnigh invariably perpetrates the most -glaring improbabilities.</p> - -<p>(<i>γγ</i>) In contrast to the above examples of unity, that of <i>action</i> is -the one truly inviolable rule. The true nature, however, of this unity -may be a matter of considerable dispute. I will therefore develop my -own views of its significance at greater length.</p> - -<p>Every action must without exception have a <i>distinct<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_260" id="Page_260">[Pg 260]</a></span></i> object which it -seeks to achieve. It is through his action that man enters actively -into the concrete actual world, in which also the most universal -subject-matter is in its turn accepted in the poetic work and -defined under more specific manifestation. From this point of view, -therefore, the unity will have to be sought for in the realization of -an end itself essentially definite, and carried under the particular -conditions and relations of concrete life to its consummation. The -circumstances adapted to dramatic action are, however, as we have -seen, of a kind that the individual end meets with obstructions at -the hands of other personal agents, and this for the reason that -a contradictory end stands in its path, which in its turn equally -strives after fulfilment, so that it is invariably attached to the -reciprocal relation of conflicts and their devolution. Dramatic action -in consequence rests essentially upon an action that is involved with -<i>resistance</i>;<a name="FNanchor_7_158" id="FNanchor_7_158"></a><a href="#Footnote_7_158" class="fnanchor">[7]</a> and the genuine unity can only find its <i>rationale</i> -in the entire movement which consists in the assertion of this -collision relatively to the definition of the particular circumstances, -characters, and ends proposed, not merely under a mode consonant -to such ends and characters, but in such a way as to resolve the -opposition implied. Such a resolution has, precisely as the action -itself has, an external and an inside point of view. In other words, on -the one side, the conflict of the opposed <i>ends</i> is finally composed; -and on the other the particular <i>characters</i>, to a greater or less -extent, have committed their entire volitional energy and being to -the undertaking they strive to accomplish. Consequently the success -or misadventure of the same, to complete or partial execution, the -inevitable disaster or the secure union effected with intentions that -are apparently opposed to their extent, also determine the destiny -of the character in question, that it is inextricably involved with -that which it was impelled to commit to such activity. A true end is -therefore only then consummated, where the object and interest of the -action, around which all revolves, are identified with the individuals -concerned, and absolutely united to them. And whether the difference -and opposition of the dramatic character assumes a simple form or -branches out in various accessory episodes and individuals, the unity -in either case may be of a more severe o<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_261" id="Page_261">[Pg 261]</a></span>r less stringent nature. -Comedy, for instance, in the many-sided features of its worked-out -intrigue does not require such deliberate self-concentration as tragedy -does, which is as a rule motived on grandiose and simple lines. -Romantic tragedy, however, is also in this respect more varied and -less consistent in its unity than is classic tragedy. And even where -there is more licence the relation of the episodes and supplementary -characters must be throughout recognizable; and the entirety of the -piece should also naturally and without strain fit in with and help to -complete the conclusion. So, for example, in "Romeo and Juliet," the -discord between the families, which lies outside the lovers and their -object and destiny, is no doubt the base on which the action is shaped, -though not the actual matter on which all actually depends. Shakespeare -consequently devotes the necessary, if also wholly subordinate -attention to the final issue of this conflict in his conclusion. In -the same way in "Hamlet" the fortunes of Denmark remain a subsidiary -interest, though with the entrance of Fortinbras they are apparently -considered, and are settled at last satisfactorily.</p> - -<p>No doubt in the particular end, which resolves the colliding factors, -the possibility of fresh interests and conflicts may be presented; it -is, however, the <i>one</i> collision with which the action is concerned, -which has to discover its final adjustment in the essentially -independent composition. Of this type are the three tragedies of -Sophocles borrowed from the Theban cycle of myths. The first contains -the discovery by Œdipus of the murderer of Laius; the second his -peaceful death in the home of the Eumenides; the third the fate of -Antigone. And, despite of this connection, every one of the three is -equally an intrinsically complete whole independent of the other two.</p> - -<p>(<i>β</i>) With regard to our <i>second</i> point, namely, that of the mode of -denouement in a dramatic composition, we have three main features of -distinction to consider between it and epic composition or the song, -namely, the size of its extension, the nature of its progression and -its division into scenes and acts.</p> - -<p>(<i>αα</i>) We have already seen that the embrace of a drama—is not -so extensive as the demand of the epos implies. I<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_262" id="Page_262">[Pg 262]</a></span> propose, -therefore—over and above the two features already discussed of -that world-condition, which is necessarily implied in the complete -picture of the epic, and the more simple collision which is an equally -essential constituent of the content of drama—merely to advert to -the further ground, that in the drama the greater part of everything -that the muse of the epic poet has to describe and linger over as -servant of our imaginative vision, is omitted altogether from the -scenic reproduction. And, further, in the case of drama it is not -actual exploit, but the exposition of personal passions which is -here the main thing. This personal life, however, in contrast to the -expanse of the phenomenal world, is concentrated in simple emotions, -sentences, decisions, and the like; and here, too, as distinct from -the collateral display of epic narration and its historical part, it -gives effect to the principle of lyric absorption and the origination -and expression in present time of passion and idea. Dramatic poetry is, -however, not satisfied with merely <i>one</i> situation;<a name="FNanchor_8_159" id="FNanchor_8_159"></a><a href="#Footnote_8_159" class="fnanchor">[8]</a> it presents the -ideal world of emotional life or intelligence in active self-assertion -as a totality of circumstances and ends of very various character, -which expresses taken together, all that, if viewed relatively to -its activity, passes in such an inward world. In comparison with the -lyrical poem, the drama reaches out to and is completed in a far more -extensive embrace of subject-matter. To summarize this comparative -relation we may say, perhaps, that dramatic poetry stands as a -mean between the wide embrace of the Epopaea and the concentrated -compression of the Lyric.</p> - -<p>(<i>ββ</i>) Yet more important than this aspect of external extension is -the nature of the <i>dramatic progression</i> as opposed to the mode of the -epic's devolution The form of the epic objectivity demands throughout, -as we have seen, a lingering style of description, which may along -with this become more intense and pointed in its display of active -obstruction. It is possible that we may at first blush incline to the -view that, inasmuch as other ends and characters resist the main end -and principal character in dramatic exposition, dramatic poetry is -entitled to accept this sort of pause and obstacle as an essential -feature of its principle. As a matter of fact just the reverse is -the case. The true dr<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_263" id="Page_263">[Pg 263]</a></span>amatic progression is a <i>continuous</i> movement -<i>onwards</i> to the final catastrophe. This is clear from the simple fact -that it is in <i>collision</i> that we find the emphatic turning point. In -consequence of this we have the twofold view of, in the first place, a -general strain towards the outbreak of this conflict, and, secondly, -the necessity implied in this discord and contradiction of views, ends, -and activities, that they should find some resolution to which they are -driven forwards. By this we by no means assert that mere celerity of -forward movement is simply in itself beautiful in the dramatic sense. -On the contrary, the dramatic poet should have himself room to supply -every situation on its own account with all the motives which it truly -implies. Episodical scenes, however, which only impede the action are -contrary to the nature of the drama.</p> - -<p>(<i>γγ</i>) As a final point, we may divide the course of the dramatic work -most naturally by simply following the stages implied in the notion -of dramatic movement itself. In this connection Aristotle<a name="FNanchor_9_160" id="FNanchor_9_160"></a><a href="#Footnote_9_160" class="fnanchor">[9]</a> long ago -remarks that a whole is that which possesses a beginning, a middle, -and a conclusion. He further defines a beginning 'as that which, of -itself necessary, does not issue from something else, and out of -which something other than itself issues and proceeds. The end is the -reverse of this, namely, that which originates from something else, -either of necessity, or mainly so at least, but which does not itself -lead to further consequence. The middle is that which both issues from -something else, and also is that from which something else proceeds.</p> - -<p>Now no doubt in the reality of our experience every action includes -many presuppositions which make it a difficult matter to decide the -exact point where we may find the true commencement. In so far, -however, as dramatic action rests essentially on a definite state of -collision, the right point of departure will lie in the situation, -out of which the future devolution of that conflict, despite the fact -that it has not as yet broken out, will none the less in its further -course issue. The end, on the contrary, will then be attained, when -the resolution of the discord and its development is secured in every -possible respect. In the midway condition between origination and end -we have the conflict of ends,<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_264" id="Page_264">[Pg 264]</a></span> and the struggle of individual persons -in collision. These different section's are in dramatic composition, -so to speak, the phases or moments of the action of what are also -actions, and the definition of this is admirably indicated by the -<i>acts</i> of the piece. They are now of course more or less equivalent -to pauses of time, and a prince on one occasion, who was either in a -hurry, or wished the action to proceed without interruption, blamed -his chamberlain openly that such a pause occurred. With regard to -their <i>number three</i> such acts for every kind of drama is the number -that will adapt itself most readily to intelligible theory. Of -these the <i>first</i> discloses the appearance of the collision, which -is thereupon emphasized in the <i>second</i> with all the animation of -conflicting interests as the positive difference of such discord and -its progression, until, <i>finally</i>, driven as it were upon the very -apex of its contradiction, it is necessarily resolved. We may cite—as -some kind of illustration of this division which the nature of such an -action suggests—from ancient drama, in which no doubt the dramatic -articulation is as a rule less distinct, the trilogies of Æschylus, -in which each single play combines with the others to form a single -and completely exclusive whole.<a name="FNanchor_10_161" id="FNanchor_10_161"></a><a href="#Footnote_10_161" class="fnanchor">[10]</a> In modern poetry the Spaniards -mainly follow such a division into three acts. The English, French, -and Germans, on the contrary, for the most part divide the entire -play into <i>five</i> acts, in which the initial exposition is assigned to -the first, the three next are occupied with the various aggressions -and reactionary effects, the complex intentions and conflicts of the -opposed parties; and it is not until the fifth that we reach the entire -resolution of such contending forces.</p> - -<p>(<i>γ</i>) The third and final important aspect we have to investigate in -our present connection is the nature of the <i>external means</i>, in so far -as the employment of the same by dramatic art can be held distinct from -and independent of the actual scenic representation that is otherwise -essential to its complete display. An account of the specific nature -of diction which is frequently dramatic generally, secondly, of the -distinguishing features of the monologue, dialogue, and the like, and, -lastly, of verse measure, will be all that is necessary here. As we -have more than once insisted in the<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_265" id="Page_265">[Pg 265]</a></span> drama the fact of the action is -not the external aspect to which we refer, but the exposition of the -ideal spirit of the action, not merely in respect to the <i>dramatis -personae</i> and their passion, pathos, resolve, interaction, and -mediation, but also relatively to the universal essence of the action -in its conflict and destiny. It is this ideally pregnant spirit, -in so far as poetry gives embodiment to it in poetic form, which -pre-eminently discovers an appropriate expression in the language -of poetry, viewing this, as we should, as the most spiritual way of -expressing emotions and ideas.</p> - -<p>(<i>αα</i>) But, moreover, just as the drama combines the principles of -the Epos and the Lyric, dramatic diction, too, is compelled both to -carry and assert within itself elements that are lyrical and those -that are epic. The <i>lyrical</i> approach is rather a special feature of -modern drama, and as a rule in those cases where the personal life is -or tends to be self-absorbed, and seeks in its decision and action -throughout to retain the self-consciousness of its inward resources. -But none the less this unveiling of the individual heart-life, if it is -to remain dramatic, ought not merely to be the exploitation of a vague -and variable cloud of emotions, memories, and visions; it should keep -its relation to the action constant throughout, should make its result -identical with that of the different phases of the same.</p> - -<p>In contrast to this subjective pathos the epic character of the -diction, which we may define as the <i>objective</i> pathos, is mainly -concerned with the unfolding of what is substantive in dramatic -relations, ends, and persons on lines rather directed to the vision of -the audience. Such a point of view can also in part assume a lyrical -tone, remaining when it does so dramatic only in so far as it does not -more entirely in its independent force form the progress of the action -and its asserted relation to the same. And over and above this, as a -second residue, so to speak, of epic poetry, we may have the records of -narrative, descriptions of battles and the like thrown in. But these -also, in genuine dramatic composition, ought to be marked with greater -compression and animated movement, and, relatively to their presentment -as narrative, a necessary connection with the progress of the action -should be evident.</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_266" id="Page_266">[Pg 266]</a></span></p> - -<p>In conclusion, genuine dramatic art consists in the expression of -individuals in the conflict of their interests and the discord roused -between their characters and their transitory passions. It is here that -the twofold aspect of lyric and epic poetry<a name="FNanchor_11_162" id="FNanchor_11_162"></a><a href="#Footnote_11_162" class="fnanchor">[11]</a> will assert its power -in true dramatic union: and we have then attached to this the aspect of -positive external fact expressed likewise in the medium of language, as -where we have, for instance, the departure and entrance of <i>dramatis -personae</i> as a rule announced beforehand; not unfrequently also their -external habit or demeanour is indicated by other persons.</p> - -<p>A fundamental distinction over the entire field now under review is the -so-called realistic mode of expression, as opposed to a conventional -speech of the theatre and its rhetoric. Diderot, Lessing, Goethe, and -Schiller also in their youth addressed themselves in modern times -above all to this attitude of direct and natural expression. Lessing -did so with the powers of a trained and sensitive observation Schiller -and Goethe did so with their predilection for the direct animation -of unembellished robustness and force. That men should converse with -one another as in the Greek, or with more insistance—and in this -latter respect the criticism has a reasonable basis—as in French -comedy and tragedy was scouted as contrary to Nature. This type of -naturalism, however, may very readily, with its superfluity of merely -realistic traits, fall into the other extreme of dryness and prose, in -so far, that is, as the characters are not developed in the essential -qualities of their emotional life and action, but only as they happen -to express themselves in the literal accuracy of their individual life, -without indicating therein any more significant self-consciousness -or any further sense of their essential position. The more natural -the characterization is allowed to remain in this sense the more -prosaic<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_267" id="Page_267">[Pg 267]</a></span> it becomes. In actual life men converse and strive with one -another before everything else on the mere basis of their <i>distinct -singularity.</i> If our object is to depict them simply as such it -is impossible that they should also be represented in their truly -substantive significance.<a name="FNanchor_12_163" id="FNanchor_12_163"></a><a href="#Footnote_12_163" class="fnanchor">[12]</a> And, if we look at the essence of the -matter, this question of crudeness and urbanity can only be in the last -instance treated subject to the above considerations. In other words -while, on the one hand, such crudeness or coarseness is made to issue -from the particular personality, which is exclusively committed to the -unmediated dictation of an imaginative type of outlook and feeling, in -the converse treatment an urbanity is the outcome of a purely abstract -and formal generalization of consideration for others, recognition -of the claims of personality, love, honour, and the like, in which -nothing that is suggestive of a rich and objective content can be -expressed.<a name="FNanchor_13_164" id="FNanchor_13_164"></a><a href="#Footnote_13_164" class="fnanchor">[13]</a> Between these two extremes of a purely formal generality -and this natural expression of unpolished peculiarities we have the -true universal, which is throughout neither formal nor destitute of -individuality, but finds its concrete realization in a twofold way from -the defined content of character and the objective presence of opinions -and aims. Genuine poetry will therefore consist in the assertion -of what belongs to immediate and actual life as characteristic and -individual in the purifying medium of universality,<a name="FNanchor_14_165" id="FNanchor_14_165"></a><a href="#Footnote_14_165" class="fnanchor">[14]</a> both aspects -being permitted to mediate each other. In this case we are conscious, -even in respect to diction, that without being wholly banished from the -basis of reality and its actual traits of truth, we are nevertheless -carried into another sphere, that is to say the ideal realm of art. -Of this latter character is the diction of Greek dramatic poetry, the -later diction of Goethe, and in part, too, that of Schiller, and in -his own way Shakespeare's also, although the Englishman, owing to the -peculiar conditions of the contemporary stage, is forced in part now -and again to accommodate his verbal language to the actual ability of -the actor.<a name="FNanchor_15_166" id="FNanchor_15_166"></a><a href="#Footnote_15_166" class="fnanchor">[15]</a></p> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_268" id="Page_268">[Pg 268]</a></span></p> - -<p>(<i>ββ</i>) We may <i>further</i> classify the mode of dramatic expression as -that of choral interlude, monologue, and dialogue. It is the ancient -drama which has pre-eminently elaborated the distinction between -chorus and dialogue. In our modern drama this falls away. What, in -the classical composition, was presented by the <i>chorus</i>, is now -rather placed in the mouths of the leading characters. The choric song -expresses, among the ancients, by way of contrast to the particular -characters and their more personal or more reciprocal conflict, the -general or more impersonal view of the situation, and the emotions it -excites, in a manner which at one time inclines to the objective style -of epic narrative, at another to the impulsive movement of the Lyric. -In the <i>monologue</i>, on the other hand, it is the isolated individual -who, in a given situation of the action, becomes objective on his -own account. Monologues are, therefore, dramatically in their right -place at those moments chiefly when the emotional life is entirely -self-concentrated as the result of previous events; when it sums up, -as it were, the nature of the cleft between itself and others, or its -own spiritual division; or when it arrives at some sudden decision, or -comes to the final point of resolve on matters already long debated.</p> - -<p>The <i>third</i> and complete form of the drama, however, is the <i>dialogue</i>. -For in this the <i>dramatis personae</i> are mutually able to express their -character and aims, not merely relatively to their personal attitude -to each other, but also to the substantive character of the pathos -disclosed; they engage in conflict, and thereby actually advance the -movement of the action. We may further distinguish in the dialogue -between the expression of a pathos that is <i>subjective</i> and one that -is <i>objective.</i> The first rather appertains to a given passion of more -accidental a nature, whether it be the case in which it is retained -essentially in suppression, and is only expressed aphoristically, or -that in which it finds a vent in the most complete and exhaustive -explosion. Poets, who endeavour to arouse the full movement of personal -emotion by means of poignant scenes, are exceptionally partial to this -type of pathos. Nevertheless, despite all their endeavour<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_269" id="Page_269">[Pg 269]</a></span> to depict -personal suffering and unrestrained passion, or the unreconciled inward -dissension of soul-life, it remains the fact that the human soul, -in its depth, is less effected thereby than it is through a pathos, -wherein at the same time a genuine objective content is evolved. -For this reason the earlier plays of Goethe, despite all the real -penetration of their subject-matter and the natural force of their -dialogue, make on the whole a weaker impression. And, in the same way, -outbreaks of unrelieved distraction and unrestrained fury, effect a -truly healthy sense only in subordinate degree; and, above all, what -is wholly frightful rather chills us than makes the blood flow. The -poet may describe passion with all the overwhelming power possible. -It is ineffective; the heart is merely rent in pieces,<a name="FNanchor_16_167" id="FNanchor_16_167"></a><a href="#Footnote_16_167" class="fnanchor">[16]</a> and turns -aside from it. What we fail to find here is that which art can least -dispense with, the positive aspect of reconciliation. The ancient -tragedians, therefore, mainly sought for their effect by means of the -objective type of pathos; nor is there wanting here genuine human -individuality, so far as this was compatible with their art. The plays, -also, of Schiller possess this pathos of a great spiritual force,<a name="FNanchor_17_168" id="FNanchor_17_168"></a><a href="#Footnote_17_168" class="fnanchor">[17]</a> a -pathos which is penetrative throughout, and is manifested and expressed -everywhere as fundamental to the action. It is, above all, to this -circumstance that we may ascribe the lasting effect which the tragedies -of Schiller produce even in our own day; I refer in particular to -their scenic reproduction. For that which produces a profound dramatic -effect of universal and enduring appeal can be only the substantive in -action—by which I mean, viewing it as definite content, the ethical -substance therein, or, in its more formal aspect, the grandeur of ideal -reach and character, in which respect, again, Shakespeare is supreme.</p> - -<p>(<i>γγ</i>) I will, in conclusion, add merely a word or two on the point of -<i>verse-measure.</i> Dramatic metre is best when it lies midway between -the tranquil, uniform flow of the hexameter and the more interrupted -and split-up syllabic metres congenial to the Lyric. In this respect -the iambic metre is above all others commendable. For the iambus, with -the rhythm of its onward movement, which may be either accelerate<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_270" id="Page_270">[Pg 270]</a></span>d by -anapaests, or be made more solemn and weighty with the spondee, forms a -most fitting accompaniment to the march of the action; and in quite a -peculiar way the senarius possesses a real tone of noble and restrained -emotional force. Among modern authors the Spaniards, with an artistic -purpose the reverse of this, adopt trochaeic tetrameters, the effect of -which is one of tranquil retardation; a measure which, with its variety -of interwoven rhymes and assonances, in part, too, with its alternative -absence of rhyme, is admirably adapted to the imaginative exuberance -of phantasy, and to the fine-drawn argumentative antitheses, which -characterize this poetry and impede rather than advance the action. -In a contrast of a similar kind, the French Alexandrine is harmonious -with the formal carriage and the declamatory rhetoric of passions, -sometimes held in restraint and at others expressed at full heat, the -conventional expression of which the art of French drama has tasked -itself to elaborate. The more realistic Englishman, whom we Germans too -have followed in more recent times, has, on the contrary, retained the -iambic metre, which Aristotle long ago defined as τὀ μάλιστα λεκτικὸν -τῶν μἐτρων<a name="FNanchor_18_169" id="FNanchor_18_169"></a><a href="#Footnote_18_169" class="fnanchor">[18]</a> He has, however, not accepted the same in identical form -with the Greek trimeter, but substituted a measure of less pathetic -character, if capable of the greatest freedom of treatment.</p> - -<p>(<i>c</i>) <i>The Relation of the Dramatic Composition to the General Public.</i></p> - -<p>Although the advantages or defects of diction and metre are important, -also, in epic and lyrical poetry, we must nevertheless ascribe a -more emphatic effect to them in dramatic compositions, in virtue of -the circumstance that we are in this case dealing with opinions, -characters, and actions which have to appear before us in all the -reality of life itself. A comedy of Calderon, for example, with all -the interplay of fantastic wit we may assume, embodied, however, in -the kind of diction we associate with this poet, with its logical -niceties and its bombast—subject, also, to all the variations of his -lyrical metres—would not, we may presume, on the simple ground of this -manner of expression, be likely to arouse any general sympathy. It is -on account <span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_271" id="Page_271">[Pg 271]</a></span>of this visual presence and nearness of approach that the -other aspects of the content, apart from that of purely dramatic form, -are brought into a far more direct relation to the public before whom -they are reproduced. We should like shortly to explain the nature of -this.</p> - -<p>Scientific compositions and lyrical or epic poems either possess a -distinct public, whose interest in such works is associated with their -profession, or it is a matter of chance into what hands compositions -of this character may fall. If a book does not please anyone it can be -neglected, just as a man passes by the picture or statue that he does -not like; such works may, in fact, be held to carry to some extent -with them the author's admission that his book is not written for -such. The case is somewhat otherwise with dramatic works. Here we have -a distinct public for which the author has to cater, and he is under -certain obligations towards it. Such a public possesses the right of -applause no less than expressed displeasure; inasmuch as a work is -represented before it in its entirety, and the appeal is made that it -should be enjoyed, with sympathy in a given place and at a stated time. -A public of this sort, as in the case of any—other public jury, is -of a very varied character; it differs in its education, interests, -accustomed tastes, and hobbies, so that to secure complete success in -certain distinct respects a talent in the display of vulgar effect, or -at least a relative shame-facedness in regard to the finest demand of -genuine art, may be necessary. No doubt the dramatic poet has always -the alternative left him to despise his public. But in that case he -obviously fails to secure the very object for which dramatic writing -exists. With us Germans, to an exceptional extent, it has become the -fashion since the times of Tieck thus to scorn the public. Our German -play-writer will express his own particular individuality, but takes -no trouble to commend the result to his audience. The ideal of our -German egotism is quite the reverse, namely, that every man must turn -out something different to that of other people, in order that he -may prove his originality. It was owing, in part, to this that Tieck -and the brothers Schlegel, men who, from the very nature of their -sentimental irony, were quite unable to master the emotional forces -and intelligence of their nation and time, fe<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_272" id="Page_272">[Pg 272]</a></span>ll foul of Schiller, -and tried to blacken his poetical reputation on the ground that he -did among us Germans manage to strike the right key, and obtain a -popularity unsurpassed. With our neighbours, the French, we find the -opposite. Their authors write with the present effect on the public -always in view, which further, on its own account, is capable of being -a keener and less indulgent critic of the author, owing to the fact -that a more definite artistic taste is already fixed in France: with us -anarchy prevails, and everyone expresses his critical views, applauds -or condemns just as he likes, or as his opinions, emotion, and mood may -chance to dictate.</p> - -<p>Inasmuch, however, as it is an essential part of the definition of -the dramatic composition that it should possess the vitality able -to command a favourable popular reception, the dramatic poet should -submit to the conditions—quite apart, that is, from the accidental -circumstances or tendencies of the time—which are likely to secure -this result in an artistic form. What these are I will attempt to -explain, at least in their more general features.</p> - -<p>(<i>a</i>) Now, in the <i>first</i> place, the ends, which in a dramatic work -come into conflict and are resolved out of such conflict, either -possess a general human interest, or at least have at bottom a pathos, -which is of a valid and substantive character for the people for whom -the poet creates his work. In such a case, however, the universal human -quality and what is more definitely national, in so far as either are -connected with the substance of dramatic collisions, may lie very -widely apart. Compositions, which stand in the national life, at the -very summit of their dramatic art and development, may consequently -quite fail to be appreciated by another age and nation. We find, for -example, in Hindoo lyrical poetry, even in our own time, much that -carries with it a real charm, tenderness, and fascinating sweetness. -The particular collision, however, around which the action in the -"Sakontala" revolves, in other words, the furious curse upon Sakontala -of the Brahman, because she does not see him, and omits to make her -obeisance, can only strike us as absurd, so much so in fact that, -despite all other excellences in this quite exceptionally beautiful -poem, we fail to discover any interest in the very culminating crisis -of the act<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_273" id="Page_273">[Pg 273]</a></span>ion. We may affirm very much the same thing of the way -in which the Spaniards treat the motive of personal honour with the -abstract severity of a logic, the brutality of which outrages most -deeply all our ideas and feelings. Let me recall, for example, the -attempt made by our own theatrical management to bring upon the stage -one of the less famous plays of Calderon entitled "Clandestine Revenge -for Clandestine Insult," an attempt condemned to failure from the first -on this ground. Another tragedy, which on similar lines portrays a -more profound human conflict, "The Physician of his own Honour," under -the changed title of "The Intrepid Prince," has after some revision -secured more leeway; but this, too, is handicapped by its abstract -and unyielding Catholic principle. Conversely, and in an opposite -direction, the Shakespearian tragedies and comedies are appreciated -by a public that is constantly increasing. We find here that, despite -all their nationality, the universal human interest is incomparably -greater. Shakespeare has only failed to secure an entrance where the -national conventions of art are so narrow and specific that they either -wholly exclude or materially weaken works of the Shakespearian type. A -similar position of advantage, such as that we allow to Shakespeare, -would be attributable to the tragedies of the ancients, if we did not, -apart from our changed habits in respect to scenic reproduction and -certain aspects of the national consciousness, make the further demand -of a profounder psychological penetration and a greater breadth of -particular characterization. So far, however, as the <i>subject-matter</i> -of ancient tragedy is concerned, it could never at any time fail in -its effect. We may, therefore, broadly affirm that, in proportion as -a dramatic work accepts for its content wholly specific rather than -typical characters and passions, conditioned, that is, exclusively -by definite tendencies of a particular epoch of history, instead of -mainly concerning itself with human interests substantive in all times, -to that extent, despite of all its other advantages, it will be more -transitory.</p> - -<p>(<i>β</i>) And, <i>further</i>, it is necessary that universal human ends and -actions of this kind should emphasize their poetic individualization to -the point of animated life itself. Dramatic composition does not merely -address itself to our sense of vitality, a sense which even the public -certainly ought to possess, but it must itself, in all essentials, -offer a l<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_274" id="Page_274">[Pg 274]</a></span>iving actual presence of situations, conditions, characters, -and actions.</p> - -<p>(<i>αα</i>) I have already, in a previous passage of this work,<a name="FNanchor_19_170" id="FNanchor_19_170"></a><a href="#Footnote_19_170" class="fnanchor">[19]</a> -entered into some detail relatively to the aspect of local -environment, customs, usages and other matters which affect the visual -representation of action. In this respect dramatic individualization -ought to be either so thoroughly poetical, vital, and rich with -interest that we can discount what is alien to our sense, and feel -ourselves attracted to the performance by this vital claim on our -attention, or it should not pretend to do more than present such -characteristics as external form, which is entirely outshone by the -spiritual and ideal characteristics which underlie it.</p> - -<p>(<i>ββ</i>) More important than this external aspect is the vitality of the -<i>dramatis personae.</i> Such ought not to be merely specific interests -personified, which is only too frequently the case at the hands -of modern dramatists. Such abstract impersonations of particular -passions and aims are wholly destitute of dramatic effect. A purely -superficial individualization is equally insufficient. Content and form -in such cases, as in the analogous type of allegorical figures, fail -to coalesce. Profound emotions and reflections, imposing ideas and -language offer no real compensation. Dramatic personality ought to be, -on the contrary, vital and self-identical throughout, a complete whole -in short, the opinions and characterization of which are consonant with -its aims and action. It is not the breadth of particular traits which -is here of first importance, but the permeating individuality, which -synthetically binds all in the central unity, which it in truth is, and -displays a given personality in speech and action as issuing from one -and the same living source, from which every characteristic, whether -it be of idea, deed or manner of behaviour, comes into being. That -which is merely an aggregate of different qualities and activities, -even though such be strung together in one string, will not give us -the vital character we require. This presupposes from the point of -view of the poet himself a creative activity which is instinct with -life and imagination. It is to the latter type, for instance, that -the characters of the Sophoclean tragedies belong, despite the fact -that they do not possess the variety of particular characteristics -wh<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_275" id="Page_275">[Pg 275]</a></span>ich distinguish the epic heroes of Homer. Among later writers -Shakespeare and Goethe are pre-eminently famous for the vitality of -their characterization. The French, on the contrary, particularly -in their earlier dramatic compositions, appear to have been rather -content to excogitate characters that are little more than the formal -impersonations of general types and passions, than to have aimed at -giving us true and living persons.</p> - -<p>(<i>γγ</i>) But, <i>thirdly</i>, the task of dramatic creation is not completed -with the presentment of vital characterization. Goethe's Iphigeneia -and Tasso throughout are good enough examples of this poetic -excellence—and yet they are not, if we look at them more strictly, -by any means perfect examples of dramatic vitality and movement. It -is for this reason that Schiller long ago remarked of the Iphigeneia, -that in it is the ethical content, the heart experience, the personal -opinion which is made the object of the action, and is as such visually -reproduced. And unquestionably the display and expression of the -personal experience of different characters in definite situations -is not by itself sufficient; we must also have real emphasis laid -on the collision of the <i>ultimate ends</i> involved, and the forward -and conflicting movement which such imply. Schiller is consequently -of the view that the movement of the Iphigeneia is not sufficiently -disturbed; we are permitted to linger within it too long and easily. He -even maintains that it without question inclines to the sphere of epic -composition, if we contrast it at least with any strict conception of -tragedy. In other words, dramatic effect is action simply as action; it -is not the exposition of personality alone, or practically independent -of the express purpose and its final achievement. In the Epos play -may be permitted to the breadth and variety of character, external -conditions, occurrences and events; in the drama, on the contrary, the -self-concentration of its principle is most asserted relatively to the -particular collision and its conflict. It is thus that we recognize -the truth of Aristotle's dictum,<a name="FNanchor_20_171" id="FNanchor_20_171"></a><a href="#Footnote_20_171" class="fnanchor">[20]</a> that tragic action possesses two -sources (αἴτια δὐo), opinion and character (διάνoια καὶ ἦδoς), but what -is most important is the end (τέλoς), and individuals do not act in -order to display diverse characters, but these latter are united with a -common bond of imaginativ<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_276" id="Page_276">[Pg 276]</a></span>e conception to the former in the interest of -the action.</p> - -<p>(<i>γ</i>) As a matter for our <i>final</i> consideration in this place there is -the relation in which the <i>poet</i> is placed to the general public. Epic -poetry in its truly primitive state requires that the poet place wholly -on one side his distinctive personality in its contrast to his actually -objective work. He offers us the content of that and only that. The -lyric poet, on the contrary, deliberately expresses his own emotional -life and his personal views of the world.</p> - -<p>(<i>αα</i>) We might imagine that the poet must perforce withdraw himself -in the drama by reason of the very fact that he brings action before -us in its sensuous presence, and makes the characters speak and active -in their own names, to a greater extent than in the Epos, in which he -appears at any rate as narrator of the events. Such an impression is -only, however, very partially valid. For, as I have already contended, -the drama is exclusively referable in its origin to those epochs, in -which the personal self-consciousness, both relatively to the general -outlook on life and artistic culture, has already reached a high degree -of development. A dramatic composition therefore should not, as an -epic one does, present the appearance as though it originated from the -popular consciousness simply, for the display of which content the poet -is merely an instrument of expression which possesses no reference -to the poet's personal life; rather what we seek to recognize in the -complete work is quite as much the product of the self-aware and -original creative force, and by reason of this the art and virtuosity -of a genuine poetic personality. It is only thereby that dramatic -productions attain to the genuine excellence of their artistic vitality -and definition, as contrasted with the actions and events of natural -life. It is on this account that where the authorship of dramatic works -is a subject of controversy we find such to be nowhere more frequent -than where it concerns the primitive Epopaea.</p> - -<p>(<i>ββ</i>) From the opposite point of view the general public too, if it -has itself preserved a true sense of meaning of art, will not submit -to have placed before it in a drama the more accidental moods and -opinions, the peculiar t<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_277" id="Page_277">[Pg 277]</a></span>endencies and the one-sided outlook of this -or that individual, the expression of which is more appropriate to -the lyric poet. It has a right to demand that in the course and final -issue of the dramatic action, whether of tragedy or comedy, what is -fundamentally reasonable and true should be vindicated. Being myself -convinced of this I have in a previous passage given a place of first -importance to the demand that the dramatic poet must in the profoundest -sense make himself master of the essential significance of human -action and the divine order of the world, and along with this of a -power to unfold this eternal and essential foundation of all human -characters, passions and destinies in its clarity as also in its vital -truth. It is no doubt quite possible that a poet, in rising equal to -this demand upon his powers of penetration and artistic achievement, -may under particular circumstances find himself in conflict with -the restricted and uncultured ideas of his age and nation. In such -a case the responsibility for such a disunion does not rest with -himself, but is a burden the public ought to carry. He has the single -obligation to follow the lead of truth and his own compelling genius, -the ultimate victory of which, provided it is of the right quality, -is no less assured than that of ultimate truth itself universally. It -is impossible to define closely the limits within which a dramatic -poet is entitled to bring his actual personality before the public. I -will therefore merely recall attention to the fact in a general way -that in many periods of history dramatic poetry, no less than other -kinds, is induced to disseminate with a vital impulse novel ideas -upon politics, morals, poetry, religion, and the like. So early as -Aristophanes we have polemics in those comedies of his youth against -the domestic condition of Athens and the Peloponnesian war. Voltaire -again frequently endeavours in his dramatic works to popularize his -free thought principles. But above all worthy of notice is the effort -of our Lessing in his "Nathan" to vindicate his ethical faith against -the strait waistcoat of a blockish orthodoxy. In still more recent -times too Goethe has in his earliest works challenged the prose of our -German life and its defective views of art. Tieck has to some extent -followed his lead in this respect. Where personal views of the above -type are not only of superior worth, but are further not expressed in -such deliberate separation from the action of the drama as to make -the latter appear as a mere means for their exploitation, the claims -of true art are not likely to suffer injury. If, however, the freedom -of the composition is thereby impaired, though no doubt the poet may -possibly produce no inconsiderable impression on the public by his -introduction of his own predilections into his work; yet, however true -they may be, if they are at the same time unable to coalesce with the -work as an artistic whole the interest thereby aroused can only be -limited to the matters thus handled; it is in fact no true artistic -interest at all. The worst case of all is that, however, where a poet -with similar deliberation seeks, out of pure flattery and in order to -please, to give prominence to some popular prejudice which is entirely -false. His sins of commission are in that case twofold, not merely -against art, but truth no less.</p> - -<p>(<i>ββ</i>) One further remark may be perhaps admitted in this connection -to the effect that among the particular types of dramatic art a more -limited measure of indulgence is permitted to tragedy than to comedy -in this more free expatiation of <span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_278" id="Page_278">[Pg 278]</a></span>the personality of the poet. In the -latter type the contingency and caprice of individual self-expression -is from the first agreeable to its main principle. Thus we find that -Aristophanes frequently makes matters of immediate interest to his -Athenian public the subject of his parabases. In portions of these -he gives free utterance to his own views upon contemporary events -and circumstances, and withal shrewd advice to his fellow citizens. -He is at other times concerned to defend himself from the attacks of -political opponents and his artistic rivals. Indeed there are passages -in which he deliberately eulogizes himself and his peculiarities.</p> - - - -<hr class="chap" /> -<h5>2. THE EXTERNAL TECHNIQUE OF A DRAMATIC COMPOSITION</h5> - - -<p>Poetry, alone among the arts, completely dispenses with the sensuous -medium of the objective world of phenomena. Inasmuch moreover as the -drama does not interpret to the imaginative vision the exploits of -the past, or express an ideal personal experience to mind and soul, -but rather is concerned to depict an action in all the reality of its -actual<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_279" id="Page_279">[Pg 279]</a></span> presence, it would fall into contradiction with itself if it -were forced to remain limited to the means, which poetry, simply as -such, is in a position to offer. The present action no doubt belongs -entirely to the personal self, and from this point of view complete -expression is possible through the medium of language. From an opposite -one, however, the movement of action is towards objective reality, and -it requires the complete man to express its movement in his corporeal -existence, deed and demeanour, as well as the physiognomical expression -of emotions and passions, and not only these on their own account, -but in their effect on other men, and the reactions which are thereby -brought into being. Moreover, in the display of individuality in its -actual presence, we require further an external environment, a specific -<i>locale</i>, in which such movement and action is achieved. Consequently -dramatic poetry, by virtue of the fact that no one of these aspects can -be permitted to remain in their immediate condition of contingency, -but have all to be reclothed in an artistic form as phases of fine -art itself, is compelled to avail itself of the assistance of pretty -well all the other arts. The surrounding scene is to some extent, -just as the temple is, an architectonic environment, and in part also -external Nature, both aspects being conceived and executed in pictorial -fashion. In this <i>locale</i> the sculpturesque figures are presented with -the animation of life, and their volition and emotional states are -artistically elaborated, not merely by means of expressive recitation, -but also through a picturesque display of gesture and of posture and -movement, which, in its objective form, is inspired by the inward -soul-life. In this respect we may have brought home to us a distinction -which recalls a feature I have at an earlier stage indicated in the -sphere of music as the opposition implied in the arts of declamation -and melody. In other words, just as in declamatory music language in -its spiritual signification is the aspect of most importance, to the -characteristic expression of which the musical aspect is entirely -subordinate, whereas the movement of melody is unfolded freely on its -own account in its own specific medium, although it too is able to -assimilate the content of language—so also dramatic poetry, on the one -hand, avails itself of those sister arts merely as instrumental to a -material basis and environment, out of which the language of poetry is -in its free domination<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_280" id="Page_280">[Pg 280]</a></span> asserted as the commanding central focus, upon -and around which all else really revolves. From the further point of -view, however, that which in the first instance had merely the force of -an assistant and accompaniment, becomes an object on its own account, -and receives the appearance in its own domain of an essentially -independent beauty. Declamation passes into song, action into the mimic -of the dance, and scenery in its splendour and pictorial fascination -itself puts forward a claim to artistic perfection.</p> - -<p>In contrasting, then, a contrast frequently insisted upon, and more -particularly in recent times, poetry in its simplicity with the -external dramatic execution such as we have above described, we -may continue the course of our review under the following heads of -discussion.</p> - -<p><i>Firsts</i> there is the dramatic poetry, whose object is to restrict -itself to the ordinary ground of poetry, and consequently does not -contemplate the theatrical representation of its productions.</p> - -<p><i>Secondly</i>, we have the genuine art of the theatre, to the extent that -is in which it is limited to recitation, play of pose and action, under -the modes in which the language of the poet is able throughout to -remain the definitive and decisive factor.</p> - -<p><i>Lastly</i>, there is that type of reproduction, which admits the -employment of every means of scenery, music and dance, and suffers the -same to assert an independent position as against the dramatic language.</p> - -<p>(<i>a</i>) <i>The Reading and Recitation of Dramatical Compositions.</i></p> - -<p>The true sensuous medium or instrument of dramatic poetry is, as we -have seen, not only the human voice and the spoken word, but the entire -man, who not merely expresses emotions, ideas, and thoughts, but, as -vitally absorbed in a concrete action, in virtue of all that he is -influences the ideas, designs, the action and behaviour of others, -experiences similar effects on himself, or maintains his independent -opposition to them.</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_281" id="Page_281">[Pg 281]</a></span></p> - -<p>(<i>α</i>) In contrast to such a definite view, which is based upon the -essential character of dramatic poetry itself, it is a feature of -modern notions on the subject, particularly so among ourselves, -to regard the organization of drama with a view to its theatrical -reproduction as unessential and subsidiary, although as a fact all -dramatic authors, even when they adopt this attitude of indifference -and contempt, entertain the wish and hope to see their compositions -on the stage. The result is that the greater number of more recent -dramas are unable ever to find a stage, and the simple reason of this -is that they are undramatical. We are not of course, therefore, in a -position to deny that a dramatic composition may satisfy the conditions -of genuine poetry in virtue of its intrinsic worth. What we affirm is -that it is only to an action, the dramatic course of which is admirably -adapted to theatrical representation, that we are to attribute such -intrinsic dramatic worth. The best authority for such a statement is -supplied by the Greek tragedies. It is true that we no longer see these -on the contemporary stage, but they do nevertheless, if we regard the -facts more closely, completely satisfy us to a real extent precisely on -this ground that they were written without reserve for the theatre of -their day. What has banished them from the theatre of today is not so -much the character of their dramatic organization, which differs mainly -from that of to-day in its employment of the chorus, as in the nature -of national predilections and conditions, upon which for the most part, -if we consider their content, they are based, and in which owing to the -distance in which they are placed relatively to our own contemporary -life we are unable now to feel ourselves at home. The malady of -Philoctetes, for instance, the loathsome ulcer on his foot, his -ejaculations and outcries, are as little likely to awaken the genuine -interest of a modern audience as the arrows of Hercules, about which -the main course of that drama revolves. In a similar way, though we may -admit the barbaric cruelty of the human sacrifice in the Iphigeneia -in Aulis and Tauris in an opera, we find it absolutely necessary in -tragedy at any rate that this aspect should be wholly revised as Goethe -has in fact done.</p> - -<p>(<i>β</i>) The difference, however, thus indicated between ancient and -modern customs, which effects the mere per<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_282" id="Page_282">[Pg 282]</a></span>usal of such works, no -less than the complete and vital reproduction of them as a whole, has -had the further effect of pointing out to us another by-way, in which -poets to some extent deliberately fashion their work exclusively for -the reader's perusal, and in a manner by which the difficulty above -indicated no longer affects the character of such compositions. There -are no doubt in this connection isolated points of view, which merely -refer to features of external form, which are implied in the so-called -knowledge of the stage, and an indifference as to which does not lessen -the poetical worth of a dramatical production. To these belong, for -example, the careful regulation of the scenic arrangements, that one -scene can follow without difficulty after another, though it requires -great alterations in the scenery, or that the actor is given sufficient -time to make the necessary change of costume, or to recover from his -previous exertions. A knowledge and aptitude of this nature is neither -indicative of any poetical superiority or the reverse; they rather -depend upon the naturally varying and conventional arrangements of -the theatre. There are, however, other features relatively to which -the poet, in order to be truly dramatical, must have the animated -reproduction visibly present in its substance, must make his <i>dramatis -personae</i> speak and act conformably thereto, that is, in complete -congruity with an actually present realization. Viewed in this light -theatrical reproduction is a real test. For in the presence of the -supreme court of appeal of a sound and artistic public the mere -speeches and tirades of our so-called exquisite diction, if dramatic -truth is not thereby asserted, will not hold water. There are periods, -no doubt, in which the public also is corrupted by the culture it is -the fashion so highly to praise, I mean by heads generally overstocked -with the current opinions and fancies of the connoisseur and critic. -Let it however only retain its own essentially sterling commonsense, -and it will only be satisfied in those cases where characters express -themselves and act precisely as the reality of life no less than -art demands and necessitates. If the poet, on the contrary, writes -exclusively for the single reader he very readily gets no further -than making his characters speak and behave much as they might do in -an epistolary correspondence. If any one thus gives us the reasons -for<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_283" id="Page_283">[Pg 283]</a></span> his aims and what he does, or unbares his heart in any other -respect, instead of that which we should at once remark thereupon we -get between the receipt of the letter and our immediate reply time -for all kinds of reflection and idea. The imagination opens in this -case a wide field of possibilities. In the <i>actually present</i> speech -and rejoinder we have to presuppose that as between man and man the -volition and heart, the movement of feeling and decision are more -direct, that in short the dialogue passes on without any such recourse -to considerable reflection, but at once from soul to soul, as eye to -eye, mouth to mouth, and ear to ear. Only in such a case the actions -and speeches are expressed with life from the actual personality, who -has no time left him to make a careful selection from one out of many -possibilities. Under this view of the case it is not unimportant for -the poet throughout his composition to keep his eye on the stage, which -renders such a direct type of animation necessary. Nay, for myself -I go to the length of maintaining that no dramatic work ought to be -printed, but rather, as no doubt with the ancients, it should belong to -the stage repertory in manuscript form,<a name="FNanchor_21_172" id="FNanchor_21_172"></a><a href="#Footnote_21_172" class="fnanchor">[21]</a> and only receive quite an -insignificant circulation. We should at least in that case limit very -considerably the present superabundance of dramas, which it is possible -possess the speech of culture, fine sentiments, excellent reflections, -and profound thoughts, but which are defective in the very direction -which makes a drama dramatical, that is, in the display of action, and -<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_284" id="Page_284">[Pg 284]</a></span>the vital movement which belongs to it.</p> - -<p>(<i>γ</i>) In the mere <i>perusal</i> and <i>reading aloud</i> of dramatic -compositions we find a difficulty in deciding whether they are of -a type which would produce the due effect from the stage. Even -Goethe, whose experience of stage management in his later years was -exceptional, was far from being dependable on this head, a result no -doubt mainly due to the extraordinary confusion of our public taste, -which is able to accept with approval almost anything and everything. -If the character and object of the <i>dramatis personae</i> are on their -own account great and substantive the manner of composition no doubt -presents less difficulty. But as regards the motive force of interests, -the various phases in the progress of the action, the suspended -interest and development of situations, the just degree in which -characters assert their effect on each other, the appropriate force -and truth of their demeanour and speech—in all such respects the mere -perusal unassisted by a theatrical performance can only in the rarest -cases arrive at a reliable decision. Reading a work aloud is only under -great qualification a further assistance. Speech in drama requires -the presence of separate individuals. The delivery of <i>one voice</i>, -however artistically it may adapt itself to different shades of tone -in alternate or varying change is insufficient. Add to this the fact -that in reading aloud we are throughout confronted with the difficulty -whether on every occasion the persons speaking should be mentioned or -not. Both alternations are equally open to objection. If the delivery -is that of one voice the statement of the names of the characters -speaking becomes an indispensable condition of intelligibility, but by -doing so the expression of pathos throughout suffers violence. If, on -the other hand, the delivery is vitally dramatic, and we are carried -thereby into the actual situation, a further kind of contradiction -can hardly fail to appear. For with the satisfaction of our sense of -hearing that of sight puts forward a certain claim of its own. For -when we listen to an action we desire to see the acting persons, their -demeanour and surroundings; the eye craves for a completed vision, and -finds instead before it merely a reciter, who sits or stands peacefully -in a privat<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_285" id="Page_285">[Pg 285]</a></span>e house with company. Reading aloud or recitation is -consequently always an unsatisfying compromise between the unambitious -pretensions of private perusal, in which the aspect of realization is -absent entirely and all is left to the imagination, and the complete -theatrical presentation.</p> - -<p>(<i>b</i>) <i>The Art of the Actor</i></p> - -<p>In conjunction with actual dramatic reproduction there is along with -music a second practical art, namely, that of <i>acting</i>, the complete -development of which belongs entirely to more recent times. Its -principle consists in this, that while it summons to its assistance -dramatic posture, action, declamation, music, dance, and scenery, -it accepts as the predominant mark of its effort human speech and -its poetical expression. And this is for poetry in its simplest -significance the exclusively just relation. For if mere mimicry or song -or dance once begin to assume an independent position of their own, -poetry viewed as a fine and creative art is degraded to the position -of an instrument, and loses its ascendancy over the in other respects -accompanying arts. We will venture to point out a few characteristic -distinctions in this connection.</p> - -<p>(<i>α</i>) The primary phase of the art of acting is to be found among -the Greeks. Here, as one aspect of the matter, the art of speech is -affiliated with that of sculpture. The acting <i>dramatis personae</i> -stands before us as an objective figure in his entire bodily -realization. In so far as here this statuesque figure is animated, -assimilates and expresses the content of the poetry, enters into every -movement of personal passion and at the same time asserts it through -word and voice, this presentation is more animated and more spiritually -transparent than any statue or picture.</p> - -<p>As to this quality of living animation we may draw a distinction -between two distinct ways of regarding it.</p> - -<p>(<i>αα</i>) <i>First</i>, there is declamation in the sense of artistic speech. -Declamation was not carried far among the Greeks; intelligibility is -here what is of most importance. We desire to recognize in the tone of -the voice and in the quality of the recitations the characterization -of soul-life in its finest shades and transitions, as also in its<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_286" id="Page_286">[Pg 286]</a></span> -oppositions and contrasts, in short, in its entire concreteness. -The ancients, on the contrary, added a musical accompaniment to -declamation, partly to emphasize rhythm, and in part to increase -the modulation of the verbal expression. At the same time it is -probable that the dialogue was either not at all or only very lightly -accompanied. To the reproduction of the choruses, however, the lyric -association of music was essential. It is highly probable that -singing, by means of its more definite accentuation of the meaning of -the language used in the choice strophes and antistrophes, made the -same more intelligible; only under such an assumption can I myself -understand how it was possible for a Greek audience to follow the -choruses of either Æschylus or Sophocles. I admit that such choruses -might not necessarily present to a Greek all the difficulties <i>we</i> -ourselves experience; at the same time I confess that, though I know -the German language well and am not wholly destitute of imagination, -German lyrics written in the same style, if declaimed from the stage, -even with the full accompaniment of song, would still be far from -wholly intelligible.</p> - -<p>(<i>ββ</i>) A <i>further</i> means of interpretation is supplied by the pose and -movement of the body. In this respect it is worth noticing that with -the Greeks the play of facial expression is entirely absent, by reason -of the fact that their actors wore masks. The facial contour returned -an unalterable sculpturesque image, the plastic outlines of which were -as unable to assimilate the varied expression of particular states -of soul, as to reproduce the acting characters, which fought through -a pathos securely fixed and universal in the nature of its dramatic -conflict, and neither deepened the substance of this pathos to the -ideal intensity of our modern emotional life, nor suffered it to expand -into all the particularization of the world of dramatic individualities -now in vogue. The action was equally simple, for which reason we do -not possess any tradition of famous Greek mimes. Sometimes the poet -himself was actor; both Sophocles and Aristophanes are examples. To -some extent the mere citizen, who was not strictly a professional actor -at all, took a part in tragedy. As a set-off to such difficulties the -choric songs were accompanied with the dance, a procedure which can -only appear frivolous to us Germans in the view we generally take of -the dance. With the Greeks it belonged as an essential feature to their -theatrical performances.</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_287" id="Page_287">[Pg 287]</a></span></p> - -<p>(<i>γγ</i>) To summarize, then, we find that among the ancients not only -was the poetical claim of language, and the intelligible expression -of general emotional states, freely admitted, but also the external -realization received the most complete elaboration by means of musical -accompaniment and the dance. A concrete unity of this kind gives to -the entire presentation a plastic character. What is spiritual is not -on its own account idealized as part of a personal soul-life, nor is -it expressed under such a mode of particularization; the main effect -is to bring about its complete affiliation and reconciliation with the -external aspect of sensuous appearance whose correspondent claim is -equally recognized.</p> - -<p>(<i>β</i>) In rivalry with music and the dance speech suffers injury, in so -far as it ought to remain the <i>spiritual</i> expression of spirit. Our -modern art of the theatre has consequently succeeded in liberating -itself from such features. The poet is by this means exclusively placed -in a relation to the actor simply, who, by his declamation, play of -facial expression, and posture, has to represent to vision the poetical -work. This relation of the author to the external material is, however, -in its contrast to other arts, quite unique. In painting and sculpture -it is the artist himself, who executes his conceptions in colour, -bronze, or marble; and although musical execution is dependent upon -the hands and voices of others, yet the feature thus added, albeit, of -course, the element of soul in the delivery ought not to be absent, -is none the less, to a more or less degree, overwhelmingly mechanical -technique and virtuosity.<a name="FNanchor_22_173" id="FNanchor_22_173"></a><a href="#Footnote_22_173" class="fnanchor">[22]</a> The actor, on the contrary, appears -before us in the entire personality which combines his bodily presence, -physiognomy, voice, and so forth, and it is his function to coalesce -absolutely with the character he portrays.</p> - -<p>(<i>αα</i>) In this respect the poet has the right to<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_288" id="Page_288">[Pg 288]</a></span> demand of the actor -that he enters with all his faculties into the part he receives, -without adding thereto anything peculiar to himself, that, in short, he -acts in complete consonance with the creative conception and means of -its display supplied by the poet. The actor ought, in fact, to be the -instrument upon which the author plays, an artist's brush which absorbs -all colours and returns the same unchanged. Among the ancients this was -more easily achieved for the reason that declamation, as above stated, -was mainly restricted to clarity of meaning, and music looked after -the aspect of rhythm, while masks concealed the faces, and, moreover, -not much scope was left to the action. Consequently, the actor could -without real difficulty conform in his delivery to a universal tragic -pathos; and although too, in comedy, portraits of living people such -as Socrates, Nicias, Creon, and so forth, had to be represented, in a -real measure the masks reproduced characteristic traits with sufficient -force, and further we should note that a detailed individualization -was less necessary, inasmuch as the comic poets, as a rule, merely -introduced such characters in order to represent general tendencies of -the time.</p> - -<p>(<i>ββ</i>) The position is different in the modern theatre. Here, to start -with, we have no masks or musical accompaniment, but have instead of -these the play of facial expression, the variety of pose, and a richly -modulated style of declamation. For, on the one hand, human passions, -even when they are expressed by the poet in a more general and typical -characterization, have none the less to be asserted as part of an inner -and personal life; and for the rest our modern characters receive, -for the most part, a far more extended compass of particularization, -the distinctively appropriate expression of which has in the same way -to be placed before us with all the animation of present life. The -characters of Shakespeare are, above all, entire men, standing before -us in distinctively unique personality, so that we require of our -actors that they, for their part, give us back the entire impression of -such complete creations. There is no specific rôle here that does not -require a definite kind of expression fitted to it, and which covers -in fact every feature of its display, whether we regard that which we -cannot see or that which we do, whether it be in the tone of the voice, -the mode of delivery, gesticulation, or facial expression. For this -reason, apart from the nature of the dialogue, the varied<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_289" id="Page_289">[Pg 289]</a></span> character -of the pose and gesture, through every possible shade, receives an -entirely new significance. In fact, the modern poet leaves to the actor -self-expression here much that the ancients would have expressed in -words. Take the example of the final scene of Wallenstein. The old -Octavio has assisted materially in the downfall of Wallenstein. He -finds him treacherously murdered by the machinations of Buttler, and at -the very moment when the Countess Terzky makes the announcement that -she has taken poison, an imperial letter arrives. Gordon, after reading -the same, hands it to Octavio with a glance of reproach, adding the -words, "To the Lord Piccolomini." Octavio is confounded, and, pained -to the heart, glances heavenwards. That which Octavio experiences in -this reward for a service, for the bloody issue of which he himself is -mainly responsible, is in this passage not expressed in so many words, -but is left solely to the gesture of the actor.</p> - -<p>(<i>γγ</i>) Owing to demands of this kind made by our modern art of -acting, poetry may, relatively to the material of its presentation, -not unfrequently opens up difficulties unknown to the ancients. In -other words, the actor, being the man he is, possesses, in respect -to voice, figure, physiognomical expression, as everybody else, his -native peculiarities, which he is compelled to set on one side, either -owing to their incompatibility with a pathos of universal import and a -really typical characterization, or to bring them into harmony with the -more complete personalities of a type of poetry rich in its power of -individualization.</p> - -<p>Actors claim the title of artists, and receive all the honours of an -artistic profession. According to our modern ideas, no taint of any -sort, whether ethical or social, is implied in the fact of being a -dramatic actor. This view is the right one. The profession demands -conspicuous talent, intelligence, perseverance, energy, practice, -knowledge, and, indeed, its highest attainment is impossible without -the rare qualities of genius. The actor has not only to assimilate -profoundly the spirit of the poet and the part he accepts, and to make -his own individuality conform entirely to the same, both inwardly and -outwardly; he has, over and above this, in many respects to supplement -the part with his own creative insight, to fill in gaps, to discover -modes of transition, and<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_290" id="Page_290">[Pg 290]</a></span> generally, by his performance, to interpret -the poet by making visibly and vitally present and intelligible -meanings which lie beneath the surface, or the less obvious touches of -a master's hand.</p> - -<p>(<i>c</i>) <i>The Theatrical Art which is more Independent of Poetical -Composition</i></p> - -<p>Finally, we shall have that further, or <i>third</i> aspect of the art in -its actual employment, where it liberates itself from the exclusive -precedency of articulate poetry, and accepts as an independent end -what was previously, to a more or less extent, a mere accompaniment -or instrument, and elaborates the same on its own account. To carry -out this emancipation, music and the dance are quite as much essential -features of the dramatic development as the art of the actor simply.</p> - -<p>(<i>α</i>) In respect to this change in the art, there are broadly speaking -two systems. The first, according to which the performer tends to -be simply in spirit and body the living instrument of the poet, we -have already referred to. The French, who make much of professional -rôles<a name="FNanchor_23_174" id="FNanchor_23_174"></a><a href="#Footnote_23_174" class="fnanchor">[23]</a> and schools, and are, as a rule, more typical in their -theatrical representations, have shown an exceptional fidelity to this -system in their tragedy and <i>haute comédie</i>. What we may define here -as the position of the art of acting reversed consists in this, that -the entire creation of the poet now tends to be purely an appendage -or frame to and for the natural endowment, technical ability, and -art of the actor. It is by no means uncommon to hear actors make the -demand that poets should write expressly for them. The soul function -of poetical composition is, in this view, to give the artist an -opportunity to display and unfold in all its brilliance his emotional -powers and art, to let us see the final outcome of his particular -individuality. Among the Italians, the <i>commedia dell' arte</i> belongs -to this type. Here, no doubt, we have certain definite types of -character such as those of the <i>arlecchino</i>, <i>dottore</i>, and the like, -with appropriate situations and<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_291" id="Page_291">[Pg 291]</a></span> series of scenes; the more detailed -execution is, however, almost entirely left to the discretion of the -actors. Among ourselves, the dramatic pieces of Iffland and Kotzebue, -and many others besides, though in large measure regarded as poetry, -unimportant or even bad compositions, nevertheless offer such an -opportunity for the creative powers of the actor, who is compelled to -initiate and shape something from such generally sketchy and artificial -productions, which on account of a vital and independent performance -of this kind receives a unique interest exclusively united to one and -no other artist. It is here, more especially, that we find our much -belauded realistic effects are displayed, a style carried to such -lengths that a mere mumble and whisper of articulate speech, quite -impossible to follow, will pass as an admirable performance. In protest -to such a style, Goethe translated Voltaire's "Tancred" and "Mahomet" -for the Weimar stage, in order to compel its actors to drop this -vulgar naturalism, and accustom themselves to a more noble exposition. -And this is invariably the case with the French, who, even in all -the animation of the farce, always keep the audience in view, and -throughout address themselves to it. As a matter of fact, mere realism -and imitation of our everyday expression is as little exhaustive of -the real problem as the mere intelligibility and clever use made of -characterization. If an actor seeks to produce a really artistic effect -in such cases, he will have to extend his powers to a genial virtuosity -similar to that I have described already in a previous passage when -referring to musical execution.<a name="FNanchor_24_175" id="FNanchor_24_175"></a><a href="#Footnote_24_175" class="fnanchor">[24]</a></p> - -<p>(<i>β</i>) A <i>second</i> province belonging to the type under consideration -is that of the modern <i>opera</i>, in the direction, at least, which -it more and more is inclined to take. In other words, although in -opera, generally speaking, the music is of most importance, which of -course possesses a content in partnership with the poetry and the -libretto, albeit it treats and executes the same freely as it thinks -best, yet in more recent times, and particularly among ourselves, -it has become increasingly an affair of luxurious display. It has -carried its <i>accessoires</i>, in the splendour of its decorations, the -pomp of its costumes, the completeness of its choruses and their -grouping, to a degree of independence that throws all else into the -shade. It was a magnificence of this kind, sufficiently criticized -among ourselves, which Cicero long ago complains of when referring -to Roman tragedy. In tragedy, where the poetry is always the most -essential thing, such a lavish display of the sensuous side of things -is no doubt not in its right place, although Schiller, in his "Maid -of Orleans," shows a tendency here to run astray. In the opera, on -the contrary, with its sensuous exuberance of song and the melodic, -thundering chorus of voices and instruments, we may with more reason -admit such an emphasized charm of external embellishment and display. -If the decorations are splendid, then the groups and processions, to -give point to them, must be equally gorgeous, and everything else must -be adapted to the same scale. The subject most suited to a sensuous -luxuriance of this kind, which, no doubt, is always some indication -of the decline of genuine art, is that part of the entire performance -which inclines to the wonderful, fantastic, or fairy tale. Mozart, in -<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_292" id="Page_292">[Pg 292]</a></span>his "Magic Flute," has supplied us with an example which is not too -extravagant, and is worked out on completely artistic lines. At the -same time, we may entirely exhaust all the arts of scenic display, -costume, instrumentation and the rest, but the fact remains that, if we -are not really in earnest with that part of the content which concerns -real dramatic action, the impression upon us can be at the strongest -merely that of a perusal of the fairy-tale of "The Thousand and One -Nights."</p> - -<p>(<i>γ</i>) The same observations apply to the modern <i>Ballet</i>, which above -all is most suited to fairy-land and miracle of all kinds. Here, too, -we note as one supreme feature, quite apart from the picturesque -beauty of the grouping and tableaux, the kaleidoscopic splendour and -fascination of the decorations, costumes, and lighting, to an extent -that ordinary persons find themselves transported into a world in -which common sense and the laws and pressure of our daily life vanish -altogether. As a further aspect of these performances, connoisseurs -in such subjects will go into ecstacies over the elaborately trained -dexterity and virtuosity of legs, which is nowadays an essential -feature of the dance. If, however, any more spiritual significance is -to flash athwart such mere physical agility, which we have reduced -to the final ultimatum of senselessness and ideal poverty, we ought -to have associated with the complete command over all the executive -difficulties implied a real measure and euphony of movement, a freedom -and grace such as finds a response in the soul; and it is only very -rarely that we do so. As a further element in association with the -dance here, which stands in the place of the choruses and solos of -the opera, we find as real expression of action the Pantomime. This, -however, in proportion as our modern dance has advanced in technical -dexterity, has fallen from the rank which it once possessed, and, -indeed, has so deteriorated that the very thing tends once more to drop -out of the modern ballet altogether, which is alone able to lift the -same into the free domain of art.</p> - - -<h5>3. THE TYPES OF DRAMATIC POETRY AND THE PRINCIPAL PHASES OF THEIR -HISTORICAL DEVELOPMENT.</h5> - - -<p>Viewing for a moment the course of our present inquiry in retrospect, -it will be seen that we have, <i>first,</i> established the principle of -dramatic <span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_293" id="Page_293">[Pg 293]</a></span>poetry in its widest and more specific characteristics, -and, further, in its relation to the general public. <i>Secondly</i>, we -deduced from the fact of the drama's presenting an action distinct and -independent in its actually visible development the conclusion that a -fully complete sensuous reproduction is also essential, such as is for -the first time possible under artistic conditions in the theatrical -performance. In order that the action, however, may adapt itself to an -external realization of this kind, it is necessary that both in poetic -conception and detailed execution it should be absolutely definite -and complete. This is only effected, our <i>third</i> point, by resolving -dramatic poetry into <i>particular types</i>, receiving their typical -character, which is in part one of opposition and also one of mediatory -relation to such opposition, from the distinction, in which not only -the end but also the characters, as also the conflict and entire result -of the action, are manifested. The most important aspects emphasized -by such distinction and subject to an historical development are those -peculiar to tragedy and comedy respectively, as also the comparative -value of either mode of composition. This inquiry in dramatic poetry is -for the first time so essentially important that it forms the basis of -classification for the different types.</p> - -<p>In considering more closely the nature of these distinctions we shall -do well to discuss their subject-matter in the following order.</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_294" id="Page_294">[Pg 294]</a></span></p> - -<p><i>First</i>, we must define the general principle of tragedy, comedy, and -the so-called drama.</p> - -<p><i>Secondly</i>, we must indicate the character of ancient and modern -dramatic poetry, to the contrast between which the distinctive relation -of the above-named types is referable in their historical development.</p> - -<p><i>Thirdly</i>, we will attempt, in conclusion, to examine the concrete -modes, which these types, though mainly comedy and tragedy, are able to -exhibit within the boundary of this opposition.</p> - -<p>(<i>a</i>) <i>The Principle of Tragedy, Comedy, and the Drama, or Social Play</i></p> - -<p>The essential basis of differentiation among the types of epic poetry -is to be found in the distinction whether the essentially substantive -displayed in the epic manner is expressed in its universality, or -is communicated in the form of objective characters, exploits, and -events. In contrast to this, the classification of lyric poetry, in -its series of varied modes of expression, is dependent upon the degree -and specific form in which the content is assimilated in more or -less stable consistency with the soul experience, according as such -content asserts this intimate life. And, finally, dramatic poetry, -which accepts as its centre of significance the collision of aims and -characters, as also the necessary resolution of such a conflict, cannot -do otherwise than deduce the principle of its separate types from the -relation in which <i>individual persons</i> are placed relatively to their -purpose and its content. The definition of this relation is, in short, -the decisive factor in the determination of the particular mode of -dramatic schism and the issue therefrom, and consequently presents -the essential type of the entire process in its animated and artistic -display. The fundamental points we have to examine in this connection -are, speaking broadly, those phases or features in the process, the -mediation of which constitutes the essential purport of every true -action. Such are from one point of view the substantively sound and -great, the fundamental stratum of the realized divine nature in the -world, regarded here as the genuine and essentially eternal content -of individual character and end. And, on<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_295" id="Page_295">[Pg 295]</a></span> its other side, we have the -<i>personal conscious life</i> simply as such in its unhampered power of -self-determination and freedom. Without doubt, essential and explicit -truth is asserted in dramatic poetry; it matters not in what form it -may be manifested from time to time in human action. The specific type, -however, within which this activity is made visible receives a distinct -or, rather, actually opposed configuration, according as the aspect -of substantive worth or in its opposition thereto, that of individual -caprice, folly, and perversity is retained as the distinctive <i>modus</i> -of operation either in individuals, actions, or conflicts.</p> - -<p>We have therefore to consider the principle in its distinctive relation -to the following types:</p> - -<p><i>First</i>, as associated with tragedy in its substantive and primitive -form.</p> - -<p><i>Secondly</i>, in its relation to comedy, in which the life of the -individual soul as such in volition and action, as well as the external -factor of contingency, are predominant over all relations and ends.</p> - -<p><i>Thirdly</i>, in that to the drama, the theatrical piece in the more -restricted use of the term, regarding such as the middle term between -the two first-mentioned types.</p> - -<p>(<i>α</i>) With respect to <i>tragedy</i>, I will here confine myself to a -consideration of only the most general and essential characteristics, -the more concrete differentiation of which can only be made clear by -a review of the distinctive features implied in the stages of its -historical process.</p> - -<p>(<i>αα</i>) The genuine content of tragic action subject to the <i>aims</i> which -arrest tragic characters is supplied by the world of those forces -which carry in themselves their own justification, and are realized -substantively in the volitional activity of mankind. Such are the love -of husband and wife, of parents, children, and kinsfolk. Such are, -further, the life of communities, the patriotism of citizens, the will -of those in supreme power. Such are the life of churches, not, however, -if regarded as a piety which submits to act with resignation<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_296" id="Page_296">[Pg 296]</a></span>, or as a -divine judicial declaration in the heart of mankind over what is good -or the reverse in action; but, on the contrary, conceived as the active -engagement with and demand for veritable interests and relations. -It is of a soundness and thoroughness consonant with these that the -really tragical <i>characters</i> consist. They are throughout that which -the essential notion of their character enables them and compels them -to be. They are not merely a varied totality laid out in the series -of views of it proper to the epic manner; they are, while no doubt -remaining also essentially vital and individual, still only the one -power of the particular character in question, the force in which such -a character, in virtue of its essential personality, has made itself -inseparably coalesce with some particular aspect of the capital and -substantive life-content we have indicated above, and deliberately -commits himself to that. It is at some such elevation, where the mere -accidents of unmediated<a name="FNanchor_25_176" id="FNanchor_25_176"></a><a href="#Footnote_25_176" class="fnanchor">[25]</a> individuality vanish altogether, that we -find the tragic heroes of dramatic art, whether they be the living -representatives of such spheres of concrete life or in any other way -already so derive their greatness and stability from their own free -self-reliance that they stand forth as works of sculpture, and as such -interpret, too, under this aspect the essentially more abstract statues -and figures of gods, as also the lofty tragic characters of the Greeks -more completely than is possible for any other kind of elucidation or -commentary.</p> - -<p>Broadly speaking, we may, therefore, affirm that the true theme of -primitive tragedy is the godlike.<a name="FNanchor_26_177" id="FNanchor_26_177"></a><a href="#Footnote_26_177" class="fnanchor">[26]</a> But by godlike we do not mean -the Divine, as implied in the content of the religious consciousness -simply as such, but rather as it enters into the world, into -individual action, and enters in such a way that it does not forfeit -its substantive character under this mode of realization, nor find -itself converted into the contradiction of its own substance.<a name="FNanchor_27_178" id="FNanchor_27_178"></a><a href="#Footnote_27_178" class="fnanchor">[27]</a> In -this form the spiritual substance of volition and accomplishment is -ethical life.<a name="FNanchor_28_179" id="FNanchor_28_179"></a><a href="#Footnote_28_179" class="fnanchor">[28]</a> For what is ethical, if we grasp it, in its direct -consis<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_297" id="Page_297">[Pg 297]</a></span>tency—that is to say, not exclusively from the standpoint of -personal reflection as formal morality—is the divine in its secular or -world realization, the substantive as such, the particular no less than -the essential features of which supply the changing content of truly -human actions, and in such action itself render this their essence -explicit and actual.</p> - -<p>(<i>ββ</i>) These ethical forces, as also the characters of the action, -are <i>distinctively defined</i> in respect to their content and their -individual personality, in virtue of the principle of differentiation -to which everything is subject, which forms part of the objective world -of things. If, then, these particular forces, in the way presupposed -by dramatic poetry, are attached to the external expression of human -activity, and are realized as the determinate aim of a human pathos -which passes into action, their concordancy is cancelled, and they are -asserted <i>in contrast</i> to each other in interchangeable succession. -Individual action will then, under given conditions, realize an object -or character, which, under such a presupposed state, inevitably -stimulates the presence of a pathos<a name="FNanchor_29_180" id="FNanchor_29_180"></a><a href="#Footnote_29_180" class="fnanchor">[29]</a> opposed to itself, because it -occupies a position of unique isolation in virtue of its independently -fixed definition, and, by doing so, brings in its train unavoidable -conflicts. Primitive tragedy, then, consists in this, that within a -collision of this kind both sides of the contradiction, if taken by -themselves, are <i>justified</i>; yet, from a further point of view, they -tend to carry into effect the true and positive content of their end -and specific characterization merely as the negation and <i>violation</i> of -the other equally legitimate power, and consequently in their ethical -purport and relatively to this so far<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_298" id="Page_298">[Pg 298]</a></span> fall under <i>condemnation.</i></p> - -<p>I have already adverted to the general ground of the necessity of -this conflict. The substance of ethical condition is, when viewed -as concrete unity, a totality of <i>different</i> relations and forces, -which, however, only under the inactive condition of the gods in -their blessedness achieve the works of the Spirit in enjoyment of -an undisturbed life. In contrast to this, however, there is no less -certainly implied in the notion of this totality itself an impulse -to move from its, in the first instance, still abstract ideality, -and transplant itself in the real actuality of the phenomenal world. -On account of the nature of this primitive obsession,<a name="FNanchor_30_181" id="FNanchor_30_181"></a><a href="#Footnote_30_181" class="fnanchor">[30]</a> it comes -about that mere difference, if conceived on the basis of definite -conditions of individual personalities, must inevitably associate with -contradiction and collision. Only such a view can pretend to deal -seriously with those gods which, though they endure in their tranquil -repose and unity in the Olympus and heaven of imagination and religious -conception, yet, in so far as they are actual,<a name="FNanchor_31_182" id="FNanchor_31_182"></a><a href="#Footnote_31_182" class="fnanchor">[31]</a> viewed at least as -the energic in the definite pathos of a human personality, participate -in concrete life, all other claims notwithstanding, and, in virtue of -their specific singularity and their mutual opposition, render both -blame and wrong inevitable.</p> - -<p>(<i>γγ</i>) As a result of this, however, an unmediated contradiction is -posited, which no doubt may assert itself in the Real, but, for all -that, is unable to maintain itself as that which is wholly substantive -and verily real therein; which rather discovers, and only discovers, -its essential justification in the fact that it is able to <i>annul</i> -itself as such contradiction. In other words, whatever may be the -claim of the tragic final purpose and personality, whatever may be -the necessity of the tragic collision, it is, as a consequence of our -present view, no less a claim that is asserted—this is our <i>third</i> -and last point—by the tragic resolution of this division. It is -through <i>this</i> latter result that Eternal Justice is operative in such -aims and individuals under a mode whereby it restores the ethical -substance and unity in and along with the downfall of the individuality -which disturbs its repose. For,<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_299" id="Page_299">[Pg 299]</a></span> despite the fact that individual -characters propose that which is itself essentially valid, yet they -are only able to carry it out under the tragic demand in a manner that -implies contradiction and with a onesidedness which is injurious. -What, however, is substantive in truth, and the function of which -is to secure realization, is not the battle of particular unities, -however much such a conflict is essentially involved in the notion -of a real world and human action; rather it is the reconciliation in -which definite ends and individuals unite in harmonious action without -mutual violation and contradiction. That which is abrogated in the -tragic issue is merely the <i>one-sided</i> particularity which was unable -to accommodate itself to this harmony, and consequently in the tragic -course of its action, through inability to disengage itself from -itself and its designs, either is committed in its entire totality -to destruction or at least finds itself compelled to fall back upon -a state of resignation in the execution of its aim in so far as it -can carry this out. We are reminded of the famous dictum of Aristotle -that the true effect of tragedy is to excite and purify <i>fear</i> and -<i>pity.</i> By this statement Aristotle did not mean merely the concordant -or discordant feeling with anybody's private experience, a feeling -simply of pleasure or the reverse, an attraction or a repulsion, that -most superficial of all psychological states, which only in recent -times theorists have sought to identify with the principle of assent -or dissent as ordinarily expressed. For in a work of art the matter of -exclusive importance should be the display of that which is conformable -with the reason and truth of Spirit; and to discover the principle -of this we have to direct our attention to wholly different points -of view. And consequently we are not justified in restricting the -application of this dictum of Aristotle merely to the emotion of fear -and pity, but should relate it to the principle of the <i>content</i> the -appropriately artistic display of which ought to purify such feelings. -Man may, on the one hand, entertain fear when confronted with that -which is outside him and finite; but he may likewise shrink before the -power of that which is the essential and absolute subsistency of social -phenomena.<a name="FNanchor_32_183" id="FNanchor_32_183"></a><a href="#Footnote_32_183" class="fnanchor">[32]</a> That which mankind has<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_300" id="Page_300">[Pg 300]</a></span> therefore in truth to fear is -not the external power and its oppression, but the ethical might which -is self-defined in its own free rationality, and partakes further of -the eternal and inviolable, the power a man summons against his own -being when he turns his back upon it. And just as fear may have two -objectives, so also too compassion. The first is just the ordinary -sensibility—in other words, a sympathy with the misfortunes and -sufferings of another, and one which is experienced as something finite -and negative. Your countrified cousin is ready enough with compassion -of this order. The man of nobility and greatness, however, has no wish -to be smothered with this sort of pity. For just to the extent that -it is merely the nugatory aspect, the negative of misfortune which is -asserted, a real depreciation of misfortune is implied. True sympathy, -on the contrary, is an accordant feeling with the ethical claim at -the same time associated with the sufferer—that is, with what is -necessarily implied in his condition as affirmative and substantive. -Such a pity as this is not, of course, excited by ragamuffins and -vagabonds. If the tragic character, therefore, just as he aroused our -fear when contemplating the might of violated morality, is to awake a -tragic sympathy in his misfortune, he must himself essentially possess -real capacity and downright character. It is only that which has a -genuine content which strikes the heart of a man of noble feeling, and -rings through its depths. Consequently we ought by no means to identify -our interest in the tragic <i>dénouement</i> with the simple satisfaction -that a sad story, a misfortune merely as misfortune, should have a -claim upon our sympathy. Feelings of lament of this type may well -enough assail men on occasions of wholly external contingency and -related circumstance, to which the individual does not contribute, nor -for which he is responsible, such cases as illness, loss of property, -death, and the like. The only real and absorbing interest in such -cases ought to be an eager desire to afford immediate assistance. If -this is impossible, such pictures of lamentation and misery merely -rack the feelings. A veritable tragic suffering, on the contrary, is -suspended over active characters entirely as the consequence of their -own act, which as such not only asserts its claim upon us, but becomes -subject to blame through the collisi<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_301" id="Page_301">[Pg 301]</a></span>on it involves, and in which such -individuals identify themselves heart and soul.</p> - -<p>Over and above mere fear and tragic sympathy we have therefore the -feeling of <i>reconciliation</i>, which tragedy is vouched for in virtue of -its vision of eternal justice, a justice which exercises a paramount -force of absolute constringency on account of the relative claim of all -merely contracted aims and passions; and it can do this for the reason -that it is unable to tolerate the victorious issue and continuance in -the truth of the objective world of such a conflict with and opposition -to those ethical powers which are fundamentally and essentially -concordant.<a name="FNanchor_33_184" id="FNanchor_33_184"></a><a href="#Footnote_33_184" class="fnanchor">[33]</a> Inasmuch as then, in conformity with this principle, -all that pertains to tragedy pre-eminently rests upon the contemplation -of such a conflict and its resolution, dramatic poetry is—and its -entire mode of presentation offers a proof of the fact—alone able to -make and completely adapt its form throughout its entire course and -compass to the principle of the art product. And this is the reason -why I have only now found occasion to discuss the tragic mode of -presentation, although it extends an effective force, if no doubt one -of subordinate degree, in many ways over the other arts.</p> - -<p>(<i>β</i>) In tragedy then that which is eternally substantive is -triumphantly vindicated under the mode of reconciliation. It simply -removes from the contentions of personality the false one-sidedness, -and exhibits instead that which is the object of its volition, namely, -positive reality, no longer under an asserted mediation of opposed -factors, but as the real support of consistency.<a name="FNanchor_34_185" id="FNanchor_34_185"></a><a href="#Footnote_34_185" class="fnanchor">[34]</a> And in contrast to -this in <i>comedy</i> it is the purely <i>personal experience</i>, which retains -the mastery in its character of infinite self-assuredness.<a name="FNanchor_35_186" id="FNanchor_35_186"></a><a href="#Footnote_35_186" class="fnanchor">[35]</a> And it -is only these two fundamental aspects of human action which occupy a -position of contrast in the classification of dramatic poetry into its -several types. In tragedy individuals are thrown into confusion in -virtue of the abstract nature of their sterling volition and character, -or they are forced to accept that with resignation, to which they have -bee<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_302" id="Page_302">[Pg 302]</a></span>n themselves essentially opposed. In comedy we have a vision of the -victory of the intrinsically assured stability of the wholly personal -soul-life, the laughter of which resolves everything through the medium -and into the medium of such life.</p> - -<p>(<i>αα</i>) The general basis of comedy is therefore a world in which -man has made himself, in his conscious activity, complete master of -all that otherwise passes as the essential content of his knowledge -and achievement; a world whose ends are consequently thrown awry on -of their own lack of substance. A democratic folk, with egotistic -citizens, litigious, frivolous, conceited, without faith or knowledge, -always intent on gossip, boasting and vanity—such a folk is past -praying for; it can only dissolve in its folly. But it would be a -mistake to think that any action that is without genuine content is -therefore comic because it is void of substance. People only too -often in this respect confound the merely <i>ridimlous</i> with the true -comic. Every contrast between what is essential and its appearance, -the object and its instrument, may be ridiculous, a contradiction in -virtue of which the appearance is absolutely cancelled, and the end is -stultified in its realization. A profounder significance is, however, -implied in the comic. There is, for instance, nothing comic in human -crime. The satire affords a proof of this, to the point of extreme -aridity, no matter how emphatic may be the colours in which it depicts -the condition of the actual world in its contrast to all that the man -of virtue ought to be. There is nothing in mere folly, stupidity, or -nonsense, which in itself necessarily partakes of the comic, though -we all of us are ready enough to laugh at it. And as a rule it is -extraordinary what a variety of wholly different things excite human -laughter. Matters of the dullest description and in the worst possible -taste will move men in this way; and their laughter may be excited -quite as much by things of the profoundest importance, if only they -happen to notice some entirely unimportant feature, which may conflict -with habit and ordinary experience. Laughter is consequently little -more than an expression of self-satisfied shrewdness; a sign that they -have sufficient wit to recognize such a contrast and are aware of -the fact. In the same way<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_303" id="Page_303">[Pg 303]</a></span> we have the laughter of the scoffer, the -scornful and desperation itself. What on the other hand is inseparable -from the comic is an infinite geniality and confidence<a name="FNanchor_36_187" id="FNanchor_36_187"></a><a href="#Footnote_36_187" class="fnanchor">[36]</a> capable of -rising superior to its own contradiction, and experiencing therein no -taint of bitterness or sense of misfortune whatever. It is the happy -frame of mind, a hale condition of soul, which, fully aware of itself, -can suffer the dissolution of its aims and realization. The unexpansive -type of intelligence is on the contrary least master of itself where it -is in its behaviour most laughable to others.</p> - -<p>(<i>ββ</i>) In considering with more detail the kind of content which -characterizes and educes the object of comic action, I propose to limit -myself to the following points of general interest.</p> - -<p>On the <i>one</i> hand there are human ends and characters essentially -devoid of substantive content and contradictory. They are therefore -unable to achieve the former or give effect to the latter. Avarice, -for example, not only in reference to its aim, but also in respect -to the petty means which it employs, is clearly from the first and -fundamentally a vain shadow. It accepts what is the dead abstraction -of wealth, money simply as such, as the <i>summum bonum</i>, the reality -beyond which it refuses to budge; and it endeavours to master this -frigid means of enjoyment by denying itself every other concrete -satisfaction, despite the fact too that, in the impotency of its -end no less than the means of its achievement, it is helpless when -confronted with cunning and treachery, and the like. In such a case -then, if anyone identifies <i>seriously</i> his personal life with a content -so essentially false, to the extent of a man confining the embrace -of his soul-life to that exclusively, and in the result, if the same -is swept away as his foot-hold, the more he strives to retain that -former foot-hold, the more the life collapses in unhappiness—in such a -picture as this what is most vital to the comic situation fails, as it -does in every case where the predominant factors are simply on the one -side the painfulness of the actual conditions, and on the other scorn -and pleasure in such misfortune. There is therefore more of the true -comic in the case where, it is true, aims intrinsically mean and empty -would like to be achieved with an appear<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_304" id="Page_304">[Pg 304]</a></span>ance of earnest solemnity and -every kind of preparation, but where the individual himself, when he -falls short of this, does not experience any real loss because he is -conscious that what he strove after was really of no great importance, -and is therefore able to rise superior with spontaneous amusement above -the failure.</p> - -<p>A situation which is the reverse of this occurs where people vaguely -grasp at aims and a personal impression of real substance, but in their -own individuality, as instruments to achieve this, are in absolute -conflict with such a result. In such a case what substance there is -only exists in the individual's imagination, becomes a mere appearance -to himself or others, which no doubt offers the show and virtue of -what is thus of material import, but for this very reason involves end -and personality, action and character in a contradiction, by reason -of which the attainment of the imaged end or characterization is -itself rendered impossible. An example of this is the "Ecclesiazusae" -of Aristophanes, where the women who seek to advise and found a new -political constitution, retain all the temperament and passions of -women as before.</p> - -<p>We may add to the above two divisions of classification, as a distinct -basis for yet <i>another</i>, the use made of external accident, by means of -the varied and extraordinary development of which situations are placed -before us in which the objects desired and their achievement, the -personal character and its external conditions are thrown into a comic -contrast, and lead to an equally comic resolution.</p> - -<p>(<i>γγ</i>) But inasmuch as the comic element wholly and from the first -depends upon contradictory contrasts, not only of ends themselves -on their own account, but also of their content as opposed to the -contingency of the personal life and external condition, the action -of comedy requires a <i>resolution</i> with even more stringency than the -tragic drama. In other words, in the action of comedy the contradiction -between that which is essentially true and its specific realization is -more fundamentally asserted.</p> - -<p>That which, however, is abrogated in this resolution is not by any -means either the <i>substantive</i> being or the <i>personal</i> life as such.</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_305" id="Page_305">[Pg 305]</a></span></p> - -<p>And the reason of this is that comedy too, viewed as genuine art, has -not the task set before it to display through its presentation what -is essentially rational as that which is intrinsically perverse and -comes to naught, but on the contrary as that which neither bestows -the victory, nor ultimately allows any standing ground to folly and -absurdity, that is to say the false contradictions and oppositions -which also form part of reality. The masculine art of Aristophanes, -for instance, does not turn into ridicule what is truly of ethical -significance in the social life of Athens, namely genuine philosophy, -true religious faith, but rather the spurious growth of the democracy, -in which the ancient faith and the former morality have disappeared, -such as the sophistry, the whining and querulousness of tragedy, the -inconstant gossip, the love of litigation and so forth; in other -words, it is those elements directly opposed to a genuine condition of -political life, religion and art, which he places before us in their -suicidal folly. Only in more modern times do we find in such a writer -as Kotzebue the baseness possible which throws over moral excellence, -and spares and strives to maintain that which only exists under a -condition of sufferance. To as little extent, however, ought the -individual's private life suffer substantial injury in comedy. Or to -put it otherwise, if it is merely the appearance and imagined presence -of what is substantive, or if it is the essentially perverse and petty -which is asserted, yet in the essential self stability of individual -character the more exalted principle remains, which in its freedom -reaches over and beyond the overthrow of all that such finite life -comprises, and continues itself in its character of self-security and -self-blessedness. This subjective life that we above all identify with -comic personality has thus become master of all the phenomenal presence -of the real. The mode of actual appearance adequate to what is, so to -speak, substantive, has vanished out of it; and, if what is essentially -without fundamental subsistence comes to naught with its mere pretence -of being that which it is not, the individual asserts himself as master -over such a dissolution, and remains at bottom unbroken and in good -heart to the end.<a name="FNanchor_37_188" id="FNanchor_37_188"></a><a href="#Footnote_37_188" class="fnanchor">[37]</a></p> - -<p>(<i>γ</i>) Midway between tragedy and comedy we have furthermore <span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_306" id="Page_306">[Pg 306]</a></span>a <i>third</i> -fundamental type of dramatic poetry, which is, however, of less -distinctive importance, despite the fact that in it the essential -difference between what is tragic and comic makes an effort to -construct a bridge of mediation, or at least to effect some coalescence -of both sides in a concrete whole without leaving either the one or the -other in opposed isolation.</p> - -<p>(<i>αα</i>) To this class we may, for example, refer the <i>Satyric</i> drama of -the ancients, in which the principal action itself at least remains of -a serious if not wholly tragic type, while the chorus of its Satyrs is -in contrast to this treated in the comic manner. We may also include -in such a class the tragic-comedy. Plautus gives an example of this in -his "Amphitryo," and indeed in the prologue, through verses given to -Mercury, asserts this fact; the declamation runs as follows:</p> - -<p style="margin-left: 10%;"> -Quid contraxistis frontem? Quia Tragoediam<br /> -Dini futuram hanc? Deus sum: commutavero<br /> -Eamdem hanc, si voltis: faciam, ex Tragoedia<br /> -Comoedia ut sit, omnibus eisdem versibus.<br /> -Faciam ut conmista sit Tragicocomoedia.<br /> -</p> - -<p>He offers us as a reason for this intermixture the fact, that while -gods and kings are represented among the <i>dramatis personae</i>, we have -also in comic contrast to this the figure of the slave Sofia. With -yet more frequency in modern dramatic poetry we have the interplay of -tragic and comic situation; and this is naturally so, because in modern -compositions the principle of an intimate personal life has its place -too in tragedy, the principle which is asserted by comedy in all its -freedom, and from the first has been predominant, forcing as it does -into the background the substantive character of the content in which -the ethical forces, I have referred to previously, are paramount.</p> - -<p>(<i>ββ</i>) The profounder mediation, however, of tragic and comic -composition in a new whole does not consist in the juxtaposition or -alteration of these contradictory points of view, but in a mutual -accommodation, which blunts the force of such opposition. The element -of subjectivity, instead of being exercised with all the perversity -of the c<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_307" id="Page_307">[Pg 307]</a></span>omic drama, is steeped in the seriousness of genuine social -conditions and substantial characters, while the tragic steadfastness -of volition and the depth of collisions is so far weakened and reduced -that it becomes compatible with a reconciliation of interests and a -harmonious union of ends and individuals. It is under such a mode of -conception that in particular the modern play and drama arise. The -profound aspect of this principle, in this view of the playwright, -consists in the fact that, despite the differences and conflicts -of interests, passions and characters, an essentially harmonious -reality none the less results from human action. Even the ancient -world possesses tragedies, which accept an issue of this character. -Individuals are not sacrificed, but maintained without serious -catastrophe. In the "Eumenides" of Æschylus, for example, both parties -there brought to judgment before the Areopagus, namely Apollo and -the avenging Furies, have their claims to honorable consideration -vindicated. Also in the "Philoctetes" the conflict between Neoptolemos -and Philoctetes is disposed of through the divine interposition of -Hercules and the advice he gives. They depart reconciled for Troy. In -this case, however, the accommodation is due to a <i>deus ex machinâ</i> and -the actual source of such is not traceable to the personal attitude -of the parties themselves. In the modern play, however, it is the -individual characters alone who find themselves induced by the course -of their own action to such an abandonment of the strife, and to a -reciprocal reconciliation of their aims and personalities. From this -point of view the "Iphigeneia" of Goethe is a genuine model of a play -of this kind, and it is more so than his "Tasso," in which in the -first place the reconciliation with Antonio is rather an affair of -temperament and personal acknowledgment that Antonio possesses the -genuine knowledge of life, which is absent from the character of Tasso, -and along with this that the claim of ideal life, which Tasso had -rigidly adhered to in its conflict with actual conditions, adaptability -and grace of manners, retains its force throughout with an audience -merely in an ideal sense, and relatively to actual conditions at most -asserts itself as an excuse for the poet and a general sympathy for his -position.</p> - -<p>(<i>γγ</i>) As a rule, however, the boundary lines o<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_308" id="Page_308">[Pg 308]</a></span>f their intermediate -type fluctuate more than is the case with tragedy or comedy. It is -also exposed to a further danger of breaking away from the true -dramatic type, or ceasing to be genuine poetry. In other words, owing -to the fact that the opposing factors, which have to secure a peaceful -conclusion from out of their own division, are from the start not -antithetical to one another with the emphasis asserted by tragedy; -the poet is for this reason compelled to devote the full strength -of his presentation to the psychological analysis of character, -and to make the course of the situations a mere instrument of such -characterization. Or, as an alternative, he admits a too extensive -field for the display of the material aspect of historical or ethical -conditions; and, under the pressure of such material, he tends to -restrict his effort to keep the attention alive to the interest of -the series of events evolved alone. To this class of composition we -may assign a host of our more recent theatrical pieces, which rather -aim at theatrical effect than claim to be poetry. They do not so -much seek to affect us as genuine poetical productions as to reach -our emotions generally as men and women; or they aim on the one hand -simply at recreation, and on the other at the moral education of public -taste; but while doing so they are almost equally concerned to provide -ample opportunity to the actor for the display of his trained art and -virtuosity in the most brilliant manner.</p> - -<p>(<i>b</i>) <i>The Difference between Ancient and Modern Dramatic Poetry</i></p> - -<p>The same principle which offered us a basis for the classification of -dramatic art into tragedy and comedy also will give us the essential -points of arrest in the history of their development. The progress we -find in this course of evolution can only appear after we have placed -such particular phases in the process side by side for comparison and -analysis. They subsist, in short, in the notion of dramatic action, -with the result that on the one hand the entire composition and its -theatrical execution emphasizes what is <i>substantive</i> in the ends, -conflicts, and characters, and on the other that the <i>personal</i> -factor of conscious and individual life constitutes the focal centre -throughout.</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_309" id="Page_309">[Pg 309]</a></span></p> - -<p>(<i>α</i>) With regard to such an inquiry we may at once in the present -work, which does not attempt to include an exhaustive history of art, -leave out altogether those origins of dramatic art which we find -among Oriental peoples. Despite the considerable progress made by -Eastern poetry in the epic and certain types of lyrical composition -the entire world-outlook of such peoples nevertheless from the first -excludes an artistic development favourable to dramatic art. And the -reason is that to genuine <i>tragic</i> action it is essential that the -principle of <i>individual</i> freedom and independence, or at least that -of self-determination, the will to find in the self the free cause -and source of the personal act and its consequences, should already -have been aroused; and we may observe that to a still more emphatic -degree is this free claim of the personal life and its self-recognized -<i>imperium</i> a necessary condition to the appearance of comedy. In the -East we find in neither case such a condition satisfied. In particular -remoteness from any and every attempt at real dramatic self-expression -is that imposing sublimity of Mohammedan poetry, although from a -certain point of view it is capable with real power of vindicating the -claim of individual independence. But it necessarily fails, because -it is an equally essential assumption of it that the One substantive -Power overrules every created being and determines his irreversible -destiny, and with all the more irresistible fatality in proportion as -such a spirit is asserted. The justification of a particular content -of individual action and of a personal life which explores its own -most intimate substance, in the sense that dramatic art presupposes, -is here impossible; indeed it is precisely in Mohammedanism that the -subjugation of the individual self to the will of God is the more -abstract in proportion as the One predominant Power, who rules the -universe, is more abstractly conceived in his universality, and in the -last instance will not tolerate one shred of particularity to remain. -We consequently only find origins of dramatic composition among the -Chinese and Hindoos. But here, too, so far as our present scanty -evidence carries us, these do not so much amount to the execution of -any free and individual action; they merely reflect the animated life -of events and emotions under the mode of definite situations, which are -displayed in their course as they actually happen.</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_310" id="Page_310">[Pg 310]</a></span></p> - -<p>(<i>β</i>) The true beginning of dramatic poetry we have consequently to -seek among the Hellenes, with whom for the first time and in every -respect the principle of free individuality renders the perfect -elaboration of the classic type of art possible. Compatibly with -this type of art, however, and in its relation to human action, -individuality is only so far asserted as it directly demands the -free animation of the essential content of human aims. That which -pre-eminently is of valid force in ancient drama, therefore, whether -it be tragedy or comedy, is the universal and essential content of -the end, which individuals seek to achieve. In tragedy this is the -ethical claim of human consciousness in view of the particular action -in question, the vindication of the act on its own account. And in the -old comedy, too, it is in the same way at least the general public -interests which are emphasized, whether it be in statesmen and the -mode in which they direct the State, questions of peace or war, the -general public and its moral conditions, or the condition of philosophy -and its decline. And it is owing to this that here neither the varied -exposition of personal soul-life and exceptional character, nor the -equally exceptional plot and intrigue can obtain the fullest play, nor -does the main interest revolve so much around the fate of individuals. -In the place of this interest for such particular aspects of the -drama above all else sympathy is evoked and claimed for the simple -conflict and issue of the essential powers of life, and for the godlike -manifestations of the human heart,<a name="FNanchor_38_189" id="FNanchor_38_189"></a><a href="#Footnote_38_189" class="fnanchor">[38]</a> as distinctive representatives -of which the heroes of tragedy are set before us in much the same -way as that in which the figures of comedy make visible the general -perversity of mankind, to the expression of which, in the reality of -the actual present, even the fundamental institutions of public life -have been corrupted.</p> - -<p>(<i>γ</i>) In <i>modern</i> romantic poetry, on the contrary, it is the -individual passion, the satisfaction of which can only be relative to a -wholly personal end, generally speaking the<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_311" id="Page_311">[Pg 311]</a></span> destiny of some particular -person or character placed under exceptional circumstances, which forms -the subject-matter of all importance.</p> - -<p>From such a point of view the poetic interest consists in that -greatness of characters, which, in virtue of their imaginative power or -their disposition and talents, display a spiritual<a name="FNanchor_39_190" id="FNanchor_39_190"></a><a href="#Footnote_39_190" class="fnanchor">[39]</a> elevation over -their situations and actions no less than over the entire wealth of -their soul-life, and show it as the real substance of political forces, -though often, too, these may be obstructed and, indeed, annihilated in -the stress of particular circumstances and the current of events; and -we may add that in the greatness of such natures it is not infrequent -to find that a power of recovery<a name="FNanchor_40_191" id="FNanchor_40_191"></a><a href="#Footnote_40_191" class="fnanchor">[40]</a> is further contained. With regard -to the particular content of the action in this style of composition -it is not therefore the ethical vindication and necessity, but rather -the isolated individual and his conditions to which our interest is -directed. From a standpoint such as this, therefore, a fundamental -motive will arise in such qualities as love and ambition; indeed, crime -itself is not excluded. But in the latter case we may easily find -rocks ahead difficult indeed to clear. For an out and out criminal, -and irrevocably so when he is weak and a thoroughly mean scamp, as -is the hero in Milliner's drama, "Crime," is something more than a -sorry sight. What we require therefore above all in such cases is at -least the formal<a name="FNanchor_41_192" id="FNanchor_41_192"></a><a href="#Footnote_41_192" class="fnanchor">[41]</a> greatness of character and power of the personal -life which is able to ride out everything that negates it, and which, -without denial of its acts or, indeed, without being materially -discomposed by them, is capable of accepting their consequences. -And on the other side we find that those substantive ends, such as -patriotism, family devotion, loyalty, and the rest, are by no means to -be excluded, although for the individual persons concerned the main -question of importance is not so much the substantive force as their -own individuality. But in such cases as a rule they rather form the -particular ground upon which such persons, viewed in the light of their -private character, take their stand and engage in conflict, rather than -have supplied what we may regard as the real and ultimate content of -their volition and action.</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_312" id="Page_312">[Pg 312]</a></span></p> - -<p>And further, in conjunction with a personal self-assertion of this type -we may have presented the full extension of individual idiosyncrasy, -not merely in respect to the soul-life simply, but also in relation -to external circumstances and conditions, within which the action -proceeds. And it is owing to this that in distinctive form the simple -conflicts which characterize more classical dramatic composition, we -now meet with the variety and exuberance of the characters dramatized, -the unforeseen surprises of the ever new and complicated developments -of plot, the maze of intrigue, the contingency of events, and, in a -word, all those aspects of the modern drama which claim our attention, -and the unfettered appearance of which, as opposed to the overwhelming -emphasis attached to what is essentially most fundamental in the -content, accentuates the type of romantic art in its distinction from -the classic type.</p> - -<p>But again, even in the cases above indicated, and despite all this -apparently untrammelled particularity, the whole ought to continue to -be both dramatic and poetical. In other words, on the one hand, the -harshness of the collision, which has to be fought through, ought to -be visibly obliterated, and on the other, pre-eminently in tragedy, -the predominant presence of a more exalted order of the world, whether -we adopt the conception of Providence or Fatality, ought to plainly -discover itself in and through the course and issue of the action.</p> - -<p>(<i>c</i>) <i>The Concrete Development of Dramatic Poetry and its Types</i></p> - -<p>Within the essential distinctions of conception and poetical -achievement which we have just considered the different types of -dramatic art assert themselves, and, for the first time in such -association, and in so far as their development follows either one -or the other direction, attain a really genuine completeness. We -have, therefore, in concluding the present work, still to concentrate -our inquiry upon the concrete mode under which they receive such a -configuration.</p> - -<p>(<i>α</i>) Excluding as we shall do for the reason<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_313" id="Page_313">[Pg 313]</a></span>s already given from -our subject-matter the origins of such poetry in Oriental literature, -the material of first and fundamental importance which engages our -attention, as the most valuable phase of genuine tragedy no less than -comedy, is the dramatic poetry of the <i>Greeks.</i> In other words, in -it for the first time we find the human consciousness is illuminated -with that which in its general terms the tragic and comic situation -essentially is; and after that these opposed types of dramatic outlook -upon human action have been securely and beyond all confusion separated -from each other, we mark first in order tragedy, and after that comedy, -rise in organic development to the height of their achievement. Of -such a successful result the dramatic art of Rome merely returns a -considerably attenuated reflection, which does not indeed reach the -point secured by the similar effort of Roman literature in epic and -lyrical composition. In my examination of the material thus offered my -object will be merely to accentuate what is most important, and I shall -therefore limit my survey to the tragic point of view of Æschylus and -Sophocles, and to Aristophanes so far as comedy is concerned.</p> - -<p>(<i>αα</i>) Taking, then, tragedy first, I have already stated that the -fundamental type which determines its entire organization and structure -is to be sought for in the emphasis attached to the substantive -constitution of final ends and their content, as also of the -individuals dramatized and their conflict and destiny.</p> - -<p>In the tragic drama we are now considering, the general basis or -background for tragic action is supplied, as was also the case in the -Epos, by that world-condition which I have already indicated as the -<i>heroic</i>. For only in heroic times, when the universal ethical forces -have neither acquired the independent stability of definite political -legislation or moral commands and obligations, can they be presented -in their primitive jucundity as gods, who are either opposed to each -other in their personal activities, or themselves appear as the -animated content of a free and human individuality. If,<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_314" id="Page_314">[Pg 314]</a></span> however, what -is intrinsically ethical is to appear throughout as the substantive -foundation, the universal ground, shall we say, from which the growth -of personal action arrests our attention with equal force in its -disunion, and is no less brought back again from such divided movement -into unity, we shall find that there are two distinct modes under which -the ethical content of human action is asserted.</p> - -<p><i>First</i> we have the simple consciousness, which, in so far as it -wills its substantive content<a name="FNanchor_42_193" id="FNanchor_42_193"></a><a href="#Footnote_42_193" class="fnanchor">[42]</a> wholly as the unbroken identity of -its particular aspects, remains in undisturbed, uncriticized, and -neutral tranquillity on its own account and as related to others. -This undivided and, we may add, purely formal<a name="FNanchor_43_194" id="FNanchor_43_194"></a><a href="#Footnote_43_194" class="fnanchor">[43]</a> state of mind in -its veneration, its faith, and its happiness, however, is incapable -of attaching itself to any definite action; it has a sort of dread -before the disunion which is implied in such, although it does, while -remaining itself incapable of action, esteem at the same time that -spiritual courage which asserts itself resolutely and actively in a -self-proposed object, as of nobler worth, yet is aware of its inability -to undertake such enterprize, and consequently considers that it can -do nothing further for such active personalities, whom it respects so -highly, than contrast with the energy of their decision and conflict -the object of its own wisdom, in other words, the substantive ideality -of the ethical Powers.</p> - -<p>The <i>second</i> mode under which this ethical content is asserted is that -of the individual pathos,<a name="FNanchor_44_195" id="FNanchor_44_195"></a><a href="#Footnote_44_195" class="fnanchor">[44]</a> which urges the active characters to -their moral self-vindication into the opposition they occupy relatively -to others, and brings them thereby into conflict. The individuals -subject to this pathos are neither what, in the modern use of the -term, we describe as characters, nor are they mere abstractions. They -are rather placed in the vital midway sphere between both, standing -there as figures of real stability, which are simply that which they -are, without aught of collision in themselves, without any fluctuating -recognition of some other pathos, and in so far—in this respect -a contrast to our modern irony—elevated, absolutely determinate -characters, whose definition, however, discovers its content and -basis in a particul<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_315" id="Page_315">[Pg 315]</a></span>ar ethical power. Forasmuch as, then, the tragic -situation first appears in the <i>antagonism</i> of individuals who are -thus empowered to act, the same can only assert itself in the field -of actual human life. It results from the specific character of this -alone that a particular quality so affects the substantive content of -a given individual, that the latter identifies himself with his entire -interest and being in such a content, and penetrates it throughout with -the glow of passion. In the blessed gods, however, it is the divine -Nature, in its indifference, which is what is essential; in contrast -to which we have the contradiction, which in the last instance is not -treated seriously, rather is one which, as I have already noticed -when discussing the Homeric Epos, becomes eventually a self-resolving -irony. These two modes or aspects—of which the one is as important -for the whole as the other—namely, the unsevered consciousness of -the godlike, and the combating human action, asserted, however, in -godlike power and deed, which determines and executes the ethical -purpose—supply the two fundamental elements, the mediation of which is -displayed by Greek tragedy in its artistic compositions under the form -of <i>chorus</i> and <i>heroic figures</i> respectively.</p> - -<p>In modern times, considerable discussion has been raised over the -significance of the Greek chorus, and the question has been raised -incidentally whether it can or ought to be introduced into modern -tragedy. In fact, the need of some such substantial foundation has -been experienced; but critics have found it difficult to prescribe -the precise manner in which effect should be given to such a change, -because they failed to grasp with sufficient penetration the nature -of that in which true tragedy consists and the necessity of the -chorus as an essential constituent of all that Greek tragedy implies. -Critics have, no doubt, recognized the nature of the chorus to the -extent of maintaining that in it we find an attitude of tranquil -meditation over the whole, whereas the characters of the action remain -within the limits of their particular objects and situations, and, -in short, receive in the chorus and its observations a standard of -valuation of their characters and actions in much the same way as the -public discovers in it, and within the drama itself, an objective -representative of its own judgment upon all that is thus represented. -<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_316" id="Page_316">[Pg 316]</a></span>In this view we have to this extent the fact rightly conceived, that -the chorus is, in truth, there as a substantive and more enlightened -intelligence, which warns us from irrelevant oppositions, and reflects -upon the genuine issue. But, granting this to be so, it is by no -means a wholly disinterested person, at leisure to entertain such -thoughts and ethical judgments as it likes as are the spectators, -which, uninteresting and tedious on its own account, could only be -attached for the sake of such reflections. The chorus is the actual -substance of the heroic life and action itself: it is, as contrasted -with the particular heroes, the common folk regarded as the fruitful -heritage, out of which individuals, much as flowers and towering trees -from their native soil, grow and whereby they are conditioned in this -life. Consequently, the chorus is peculiarly fitted to a view of life -in which the obligations of State legislation and settled religious -dogmas do not, as yet, act as a restrictive force in ethical and -social development, but where morality only exists in its primitive -form of directly animated human life, and it is merely the equilibrium -of unmoved life which remains assured in its stability against the -fearful collisions which the antagonistic energies of individual action -produces. We are made aware of the fact that an assured asylum of -this kind is also a part of our actual existence by the presence of -the chorus. It does not, therefore, practically co-operate with the -action; it executes by its action no right as against the contending -heroes; it merely expresses its judgment as a matter of opinion; it -warns, commiserates, or appeals to the divine law, and the ideal forces -imminent in the soul, which the imagination grasps in external guise -as the sphere of the gods that rule. In this self-expression it is, as -we have already seen, lyrical; for it does not act and there are no -events for it to narrate in epical form. The content, however, retains -at the same time the epic character of substantive universality; and -its lyric movement is of such a nature that it can, and in this respect -in contrast to the form of the genuine ode, approach at times that of -the paean and the dithyramb. We must lay emphatic stress upon this -position of the chorus in Greek tragedy. Just as the theatre itself -possesses its external ground, its scene and environment, so, too, the -chorus, that is the general community, is the spiritual scene; and we -may compare it to the architectural temple which surrounds the<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_317" id="Page_317">[Pg 317]</a></span> image -of the god, which resembles the heroes in the action. Among ourselves, -statues are placed under the open sky without such a background, which -also modern tragedy does not require, for the reason that its actions -do not depend on this substantive basis, but on the personal volition -and personality, no less than the apparently external contingency of -events and circumstances.</p> - -<p>In this respect it is an entirely false view which regards the chorus -as an accidental piece of residuary baggage, a mere remnant from the -origins of Greek drama. Of course, it is incontestable that its source -is to be traced to the circumstance that, in the festivals of Bacchus, -so far as the artistic aspect is concerned, the choral song was of most -importance until the introduction and interruption of its course by -one reciter, whose relation finally was transformed into and exalted -by the real figures of dramatic action. In the blossoming season of -tragedy, however, the chorus was not by any means merely retained in -honour of this particular phase of the festival and ritual of the god -Bacchus; rather it became continuously more elaborate in its beauty and -harmonious measures by reason of the fact that its association with the -dramatic action is essential and, indeed, so indispensable to it that -the decline of tragedy is intimately connected with the degeneration of -the choruses, which no longer remain an integral member of the whole, -but are degraded to a mere embellishment. In contrast to this, in -romantic tragedy, the chorus is neither intrinsically appropriate nor -does it appear to have originated from choric songs. On the contrary, -the content is here of a type which defeats from the first any attempt -to introduce choruses as understood by Greek dramatists. For, even if -we go back to the most primitive of those so-called mysteries, morality -plays and farces of a similar character, from which the romantic drama -issued, we find that these present no action in that original Greek -sense of the term, no outbreak, that is, of opposing forces from the -undivided consciousness of life and the god-like. To as little extent -is the chorus adapted<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_318" id="Page_318">[Pg 318]</a></span> to the conditions of chivalry and the dominion -of kings, in so far as, in such cases, the attitude of the folk is one -of mere obedience, or it is itself a party, involved together with the -interest of its fortune or misfortune in the course of the action. And -in general the chorus entirely fails to secure its true position where -the main subject-matter consists of particular passions, ends, and -characters, or any considerable opportunity is admitted to intrigue.</p> - -<p>In contrast to the chorus, the <i>second</i> fundamental feature of dramatic -composition is that of the <i>individuals</i> who act in <i>conflict</i> with -each other. In Greek tragedy it is not at all the bad will, crime, -worthlessness, or mere misfortune, stupidity, and the like, which act -as an incentive to such collisions, but rather, as I have frequently -urged, the ethical right to a definite course of action.<a name="FNanchor_45_196" id="FNanchor_45_196"></a><a href="#Footnote_45_196" class="fnanchor">[45]</a> Abstract -evil neither possesses truth in itself, nor does it arouse interest. -At the same time, when we attribute ethical traits of characterization -to the individuals of the action, these ought not to appear merely -as a matter of opinion. It is rather implied in their right or claim -that they are actually there as essential on their own account. The -hazards of crime, such as are present in modern drama—the useless, or -quite as much the so-called noble criminal, with his empty talk about -fate, we meet with in the tragedy of ancient literature, rarely, if at -all, and for the good reason that the decision and deed depends on the -wholly personal aspect of interest and character, upon lust for power, -love, honour, or other similar passions, whose justification has its -roots exclusively in the particular inclination and individuality. A -resolve of this character, whose claim is based upon the content of its -object, which it carries into execution in one restricted direction of -particularization, violates, under certain circumstances, which are -already essentially implied in the actual possibility of conflicts, -a further and equally ethical sphere of human volition, which the -character thus confronted adheres to, and, by his thus stimulated -action, enforces, so that in this way the collision of powers and -individuals equally entitled to the ethical claim is completely set up -in its movement.</p> - -<p>The sphere of this content,<a name="FNanchor_46_197" id="FNanchor_46_197"></a><a href="#Footnote_46_197" class="fnanchor">[46]</a> although capable of great<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_319" id="Page_319">[Pg 319]</a></span> variety of -detail, is not in its essential features very extensive. The principal -source of opposition, which Sophocles in particular, in this respect -following the lead of Æschylus, has accepted and worked out in the -finest way, is that of the <i>body politic</i>, the opposition, that is, -between ethical life in its social universality and the family as the -natural ground of moral relations. These are the purest forces of -tragic representation. It is, in short, the harmony of these spheres -and the concordant action within the bounds of their realized content, -which constitute the perfected reality of the moral life. In this -respect I need only recall to recollection the "Seven before Thebes" -of Æschylus and, as a yet stronger illustration, the "Antigone" of -Sophocles. Antigone reverences the ties of blood-relationship, the -gods of the nether world. Creon alone recognizes Zeus, the paramount -Power of public life and the commonwealth. We come across a similar -conflict in the "Iphigeneia in Aulis," as also in the "Agamemnon," the -"Choephorae," and "Eumenides" of Æschylus, and in the "Electra" of -Sophocles. Agamemnon, as king and leader of his army, sacrifices his -daughter in the interest of the Greek folk and the Trojan expedition. -He shatters thereby the bond of love as between himself and his -daughter and wife, which Clytemnestra retains in the depths of a -mother's heart, and in revenge prepares an ignominious death for her -husband on his return. Orestes, their son, respects his mother, but is -bound to represent the right of his father, the king, and strikes dead -the mother who bore him.</p> - -<p>A content of this type retains its force through all times, and its -presentation, despite all difference of nationality, vitally arrests -our human and artistic sympathies.</p> - -<p>Of a more formal type is that second kind of essential collision, -an illustration of which in the tragic story of Œdipus the Greek -tragedians especially favoured. Of this Sophocles has left us the -most complete example in his "Œdipus Rex," and "Œdipus in Colonos." -The problem here is concerned with the claim of alertness in our -intelligence, with the nature of the obligation<a name="FNanchor_47_198" id="FNanchor_47_198"></a><a href="#Footnote_47_198" class="fnanchor">[47]</a> implied in that -whi<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_320" id="Page_320">[Pg 320]</a></span>ch a man carries out with a volition fully aware of its acts as -contrasted with that which he has done in fact, but unconscious of -and with no intention of doing what he has done under the directing -providence of the gods. Œdipus slays his father, marries his mother, -begets children in this incestuous alliance, and nevertheless is -involved in these most terrible of crimes without active participation -either in will or knowledge. The point of view of our profounder modern -consciousness of right and wrong would be to recognize that crimes of -this description, inasmuch as they were neither referable to a personal -knowledge or volition, were not deeds for which the true personality of -the perpetrator was responsible. The plastic nature of the Greek on the -contrary adheres to the bare fact which an individual has achieved, and -refuses to face the division implied by the purely ideal attitude of -the soul in the self-conscious life on the one hand and the objective -significance of the fact accomplished on the other.</p> - -<p>For ourselves, to conclude this survey, other collisions, which either -in general are related to the universally accepted association of -personal action to the Greek conception of Destiny, or in some measure -to more exceptional conditions, are comparatively speaking less -important.</p> - -<p>In all these tragic conflicts, however, we must above all place on one -side the false notion of <i>guilt</i> or <i>innocence</i>. The heroes of tragedy -are quite as much under one category as the other. If we accept the -idea as valid that a man is guilty only in the case that a choice -lay open to him, and he deliberately decided on the course of action -which he carried out, then these plastic figures of ancient drama -are guiltless. They act in accordance with a specific character, a -specific pathos, for the simple reason that they are this character, -this pathos. In such a case there is no lack of decision and no choice. -The strength of great characters consists precisely in this that they -do not choose, but are entirely and absolutely just that which they -will and achieve. They are simply themselves, and never anything else, -and their greatness consists in that fact. Weakness in action, in -other words, wholly consists in the division of the personal self as -such from its content, so that character, volition and <span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_321" id="Page_321">[Pg 321]</a></span>final purpose -do not appear as absolutely one unified growth; and inasmuch as no -assured end lives in the soul as the very substance of the particular -personality, as the pathos and might of the individual's entire will, -he is still able to turn with indecision from this course to that, and -his final decision is that of caprice. A wavering attitude of this -description is alien to these plastic creations. The bond between the -psychological state of mind and the content of the will is for them -indissoluble. That which stirs them to action is just in this very -pathos which implies an ethical justification and which, even in the -pathetic aspects of the dialogue, is not enforced in and through the -merely personal rhetoric of the heart and the sophistry of passion, -but in the equally masculine and cultivated objective presence, in -the profound possibilities, the harmony and vitally plastic beauty of -which Sophocles was to a superlative degree master. At the same time, -however, such a pathos, with its potential resources of collision, -brings in its train deeds that are both injurious and wrongful. They -have no desire to avoid the blame that results therefrom. On the -contrary, it is their fame to have done what they have done. One can in -fact urge nothing more intolerable against a hero of this type than by -saying that he has acted innocently. It is a point of honour with such -great characters that they are guilty. They have no desire to excite -pity or our sensibilities. For it is not the substantive, but rather -the wholly personal deepening<a name="FNanchor_48_199" id="FNanchor_48_199"></a><a href="#Footnote_48_199" class="fnanchor">[48]</a> of the individual character, which -stirs our individual pain. These securely strong characters, however, -coalesce entirely with their essential pathos, and this indivisible -accord inspires wonder, but does not excite heart emotions. The drama -of Euripides marks the transition to that.</p> - -<p>The final result, then, of the development of tragedy conducts us -to this issue and only this, namely, that the twofold vindication -of the mutually conflicting aspects are no doubt retained, but the -<i>onesided</i> mode under which they were maintained is cancelled, and -the undisturbed ideal harmony brings back again that condition of -the chorus, which attributes without reserve equal honour to all -the<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_322" id="Page_322">[Pg 322]</a></span> gods. The true course of dramatic development consists in the -annulment of <i>contradictions</i> viewed as such, in the reconciliation -of the forces of human action, which alternately strive to negate -each other in their conflict. Only so far is misfortune and suffering -not the final issue, but rather the satisfaction of spirit, as for -the first time, in virtue of such a conclusion, the necessity of all -that particular individuals experience, is able to appear in complete -accord with reason, and our emotional attitude is tranquillized on -a true ethical basis, rudely shaken by the calamitous result to the -heroes, but reconciled in the substantial facts. And it is only in so -far as we retain such a view securely that we shall be in a position to -understand ancient tragedy. We have to guard ourselves therefore from -concluding that a <i>dénouement</i> of this type is merely a moral issue -conformably to which evil is punished and virtue rewarded, as indicated -by the proverb that "when crime turns to vomit, virtue sits down at -table." We have nothing to do here with this wholly personal aspect of -a self-reflecting personality and its conception of good and evil, but -are concerned with the appearance of the affirmative reconciliation and -with the equal validity of both the powers engaged in actual conflict, -when the collision actually took place. To as little extent is the -necessity of the issue a blind destiny, or in other words a purely -irrational, unintelligible fate, identified with the classical world -by many; rather it is the rationality of destiny, albeit it does not -as yet appear as self-conscious Providence, the divine final end of -which in conjunction with the world and individuals appears on its own -account and for others, depending as it does on just this fact that the -highest Power paramount over particular gods and mankind cannot suffer -this, namely, that the forces, which affirm their selfsubsistence -in modes that are abstract or incomplete, and thereby overstep the -boundary of their warrant, no less than the conflicts which result -from them, should retain their self-stability. Fate drives personality -back upon its limits, and shatters it, when it has grown overweening. -An irrational compulsion, however, an innocence of suffering would -rather only excite indignation in the soul of the spectator than -ethical tranquillity. From a further point of view, therefore, the -reconciliation of <i>tragedy</i><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_323" id="Page_323">[Pg 323]</a></span> is equally distinct from that of the -<i>Epos.</i> If we look at either Achilles or Odysseus in this respect we -observe that both attain their object, and it is right that they do -so; but it is not a continuous happiness with which they are favoured; -they have on the contrary to taste in its bitterness the feeling of -finite condition, and are forced to fight wearily through difficulties, -losses and sacrifices. It is in fact a universal demand of truth that -in the course of life and all that takes place in the objective world -the nugatory character of finite conditions should compel attention. So -no doubt the anger of Achilles is reconciled; he obtains from Agamemnon -that in respect of which he had suffered the sense of insult; he is -revenged upon Hector; the funeral rites of Patroclus are consummated, -and the character of Achilles is acknowledged in all its glory. But his -wrath and its reconciliation have for all that cost him his dearest -friend, the noble Patroclus; and, in order to avenge himself upon -Hector for this loss, he finds himself compelled to disengage himself -from his anger, to enter once more the battle against the Trojans, -and in the very moment when his glory is acknowledged receives the -prevision of his early death. In a similar way Odysseus reaches Ithaca -at last, the goal of his desire; but he does so alone and in his sleep, -having lost all his companions, all the war-booty from Ilium, after -long years of endurance and fatigue. In this way both heroes have paid -their toll to finite conditions and the claim of nemesis is evidenced -in the destruction of Troy and the misfortunes of the Greek heroes. -But this nemesis is simply justice as conceived of old, which merely -humiliates what is everywhere too exalted, in order to establish -once more the abstract balance of fortune by the instrumentality of -misfortune, and which merely touches and affects finite existence -without further ethical signification. And this is the justice of the -Epic in the field of objective fact, the universal reconciliation -of what is simply accommodation.<a name="FNanchor_49_200" id="FNanchor_49_200"></a><a href="#Footnote_49_200" class="fnanchor">[49]</a> The higher conception of -reconciliation in tragedy is on the contrary related to the resolution -of specific ethical and substantive facts from their contradiction into -their true harmony. The way in which such an accord is established is -asserted under very different modes; I propose therefore merely<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_324" id="Page_324">[Pg 324]</a></span> to -direct attention to the fundamental features of the actual process -herein involved.</p> - -<p><i>Firsts</i> we have particularly to emphasize the fact, that if it is -the onesidedness of the pathos which constitutes the real basis of -collisions this merely amounts to the statement that it is asserted in -the action of life, and therewith has become the unique pathos of a -particular individual. If this one-sidedness is to be abrogated then it -is this individual which, to the extent that his action is exclusively -identified with this isolated pathos, must perforce be stripped and -sacrificed. For the individual here is merely this single life, and, -if this unity is not secured in its stability on its own account, the -individual is shattered.</p> - -<p>The most complete form of this development is possible when the -individuals engaged in conflict relatively to their concrete or -objective life appear in each case essentially involved in one whole, -so that they stand fundamentally under the power of that against which -they battle, and consequently infringe that, which, conformably to -their own essential life, they ought to respect. Antigone, for example, -lives under the political authority of Creon; she is herself the -daughter of a king and the affianced of Haemon, so that her obedience -to the royal prerogative is an obligation. But Creon also, who is -on his part father and husband, is under obligation to respect the -sacred ties of relationship, and only by breach of this can give an -order that is in conflict with such a sense. In consequence of this -we find immanent in the life of both that which each respectively -combats, and they are seized and broken by that very bond which is -rooted in the compass of their own social existence. Antigone is put -to death before she can enjoy what she looks forward to as bride, and -Creon too is punished in the fatal end of his son and wife, who commit -suicide, the former on account of Antigone's death, and the latter -owing to Haemon's. Among all the fine creations of the ancient and the -modern world—and I am acquainted with pretty nearly everything in -such a class, and one ought to know it, and it is quite possible—the -"Antigone" of Sophocles is from this point of view in my judgment the -most excellent and satisfying work of art.</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_325" id="Page_325">[Pg 325]</a></span></p> - -<p>The tragic issue does not, however, require in every case as a means -of removing both over-emphasized aspects and the equal honour which -they respectively claim the downfall of the contestant parties. The -"Eumenides" does not end, as we all know, with the death of Orestes, -or the destruction of the Eumenides, these avenging spirits of -matricide and filial affection, these opponents of Apollo, who seeks -to protect unimpaired the worth of and reverence for the family chief -and king, the god who had prompted Orestes to slay Clytaemnestra, but -will have Orestes released from the punishment and honour bestowed -on both himself and the Furies. At the same time we cannot fail to -see in this adjusted conclusion the nature of the authority which -the Greeks attached to their gods when they presented them as mere -individuals contending with each other. They appear, in short, to -the Athenian of everyday life merely as definite aspects of ethical -experience which the principles of morality viewed in their complete -and harmonious coherence bind together. The votes of the Areopagus are -equal on either side. It is Athene, the goddess, the life of Athens, -that is, imagined in its essential unity, who adds the white pebble, -who frees Orestes, and at the same time promises altars and a cult -to the Eumenides no less than Apollo. As a contrast to this type of -objective reconciliation the settlement may be, <i>secondly</i>, of a more -personal character. In other words, the individual concerned in the -action may in the last instance surrender his onesided point of view. -In this betrayal by personality of its essential pathos, however, it -cannot fail to appear destitute of character; and this contradicts the -masculine integrity of such plastic figures. The individual, therefore, -can only submit to a higher Power and its counsel or command, to the -effect that while on his own account he adheres to such a pathos, the -will is nevertheless broken in its bare obstinacy by a god's authority. -In such a case the knot is not loosened, but, as in the case of -Philoctetes, it is severed by <span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_326" id="Page_326">[Pg 326]</a></span>a <i>deus ex machinâ.</i></p> - -<p>But as a <i>further</i> and final class, and one more beautiful than the -above rather external mode of resolution we have the reconciliation -more properly of the soul itself, in which respect there is, in -virtue of the personal significance, a real approach to our modern -point of view. The most perfect example of this in ancient drama is -to be found in the ever admirable "Œdipus Coloneus" of Sophocles. The -protagonist here has unwittingly slain his father, secured the sceptre -of Thebes, and the bridal bed of his own mother. He is not rendered -unhappy by these unwitting crimes; but the power of divination he has -of old possessed makes him realize, despite himself, the darkness -of the experience that confronts him, and he becomes fearfully, if -indistinctly, aware of what his position is.<a name="FNanchor_50_201" id="FNanchor_50_201"></a><a href="#Footnote_50_201" class="fnanchor">[50]</a> In this resolution of -the riddle in himself he resembles Adam, losing his happiness when he -obtains the knowledge of good and evil. What he then does, the seer, -is to blind himself, then abdicate the throne and depart from Thebes, -very much as Adam and Eve are driven from Paradise. From henceforward -he wanders about a helpless old man. Finally a god calls the terribly -afflicted man to himself,<a name="FNanchor_51_202" id="FNanchor_51_202"></a><a href="#Footnote_51_202" class="fnanchor">[51]</a> the man, that is, who refusing the -request of his sons that he should return to Thebes, prefers to -associate with the Erinnys; the man, in short, who extinguishes all -the disruption in himself and who purifies himself in his own soul. -His blind eyes are made clear and bright, his limbs are healed, and -become a treasure of the city which received him as a free guest. And -this illumination in death is for ourselves no less than for him the -more truly visible reconciliation which is worked out both in and for -himself as individual man, in and through, that is, his essential -character. <span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_327" id="Page_327">[Pg 327]</a></span>Critics have endeavoured to discover here the temper of the -Christian life; we are told we have here the picture of a sinner, whom -God receives into His grace; and the fateful misfortunes which expire -in their finite condition, are made good with the seal of blessedness -in death. The reconciliation of the Christian religion, however, is an -illumination of the soul, which, bathed in the everlasting waters of -salvation, is raised above mortal life and its deeds. Here it is the -heart itself, for in such a view the spiritual life can effect this, -which buries that life and its deed in the grave of the heart itself, -counting the recriminations of earthly guilt as part and parcel of its -own earthly individuality; and which, in the full assuredness of the -eternally pure and spiritual condition of blessedness, holds itself in -itself calm and steadfast against such impeachment. The illumination of -Œdipus, on the contrary, remains throughout, in consonance with ancient -ideas, the restoration of conscious life from the strife of ethical -powers and violations to the renewed and harmonious unity of this -<i>ethical content itself.</i><a name="FNanchor_52_203" id="FNanchor_52_203"></a><a href="#Footnote_52_203" class="fnanchor">[52]</a></p> - -<p>There is a further feature in this type of reconciliation, however, -and that is the <i>personal</i> or ideal nature of the satisfaction. We may -take this as a point of transition to the otherwise to be contrasted -province of <i>comedy</i>.</p> - -<p>(<i>ββ</i>) That which is comic is, as we have already seen, in general -terms the subjective or personal state, which forces and then -dissolves the action which issues from it by its own effect into and -in contradiction, remaining throughout and in virtue of this process -tranquil in its own self-assurance. Comedy possesses, therefore, -for its basis and point of departure that with which it is possible -for tragedy to terminate, that is, a soul to the fullest extent and -even<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_328" id="Page_328">[Pg 328]</a></span>tually reconciled, a joyous state, which, however much it is -instrumental in the marring of its volitional power, and, indeed, in -itself comes to grief, by reason of its asserting voluntarily what -is in conflict with its aim, does not therefore lose its general -equanimity. A personal self-assurance of this character, however is, -from a further point of view, only possible in so far as the ends -proposed, and withal the characters include nothing that is on its -own account essentially substantive; or, if they do possess such an -intrinsic worth, it is adopted and carried out intentionally under -a mode which is totally opposed to the genuine truth contained, in -a form, therefore, that is destitute of such truth, so that in this -respect, as in the previous case, it is merely that which is itself -essentially of no intrinsic importance, but a matter of indifference -which is marred, and the individual remains just as he was and -unaffected.</p> - -<p>Such a view is, too, in its general lines the conception of the old -classic comedy, in so far as tradition reflects it in the plays of -Aristophanes. We should, however, be careful to notice the distinction -whether the individuals in the play are aware that they are comic, -or are so merely from the spectator's point of view. It is only the -first class that we can reckon as part of the genuine comedy in which -Aristophanes was a master. Conformably to such a type a character is -only placed in a ridiculous situation, when we perceive that he himself -is not serious in what is actually of such a quality in his purpose -and voluntary effort, so that this constituent of either is throughout -the means of his own undoing, inasmuch as throughout such a character -is unable to enter into any more noble and universally valid interest, -which necessarily involves it in a situation of conflict;<a name="FNanchor_53_204" id="FNanchor_53_204"></a><a href="#Footnote_53_204" class="fnanchor">[53]</a> and, -even assuming that he does actually partake of it, merely does so in a -way that shows a nature, which, in virtue of its practical existence, -has already annihilated that which it appears to strive to bring into -operation, so that after all one sees such a coalescence has never been -really effected. The comic comes, therefore, rather into play among -classes of a lower social order in actual conditions of life<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_329" id="Page_329">[Pg 329]</a></span>, among -men who remain much as they are, and neither are able or desire to be -anything else; who, while incapable of any genuine pathos, have no -doubt whatever as to what they are and do. At the same time the higher -nature that is in them is asserted in this that they are not with any -seriousness attached to the finite conditions which hem them in, but -remain superior to the same and in themselves essentially steadfast and -self-reliant against mishap and loss. This absolute freedom of spirit, -which brings its own essential comfort from the first in all that a man -undertakes, this world of the blitheness of human soul-life is that to -which Aristophanes conducts us. Without a reading of him it is hardly -possible to imagine what a wealth of exuberance there is in the human -heart.</p> - -<p>The interests among which this type of comedy moves are not necessarily -taken from the opposed spheres of religion, morality, and art. On the -contrary the old Greek comedy remains no doubt within the limits of -this positive and substantive content of human life; but it is the -individual caprice, the vulgar folly and perversity, by reason of -which the characters concerned bring to nought activities which in -their aim have a finer significance. And in this respect an ample and -very pertinent material is supplied Aristophanes partly by Greek gods, -and partly by the life of the Athenian people. In other words, the -configuration of the divine in human impersonation itself possesses, in -its mode of presentation and its particularization, to the extent at -least that it is further enforced in opposition to that which is merely -one-sided and human, the contradiction that is opposed to the nobility -of its significance; it is thus permitted to appear as a purely empty -extension of this personal life which is inadequate wholly to express -it. More particularly, however, Aristophanes revels in the follies of -the common folk, the stupidities of its orators and statesmen, the -blockheadedness of war, and is eager, above all, and with all the -politeness of his satire and the full weight of his ridicule, but also -not without the profoundest meaning, to hand over the new tendencies -of the tragedies of Euripides to the laughter of his fellow-citizens. -The characters he has imported into the substance of his amazing<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_330" id="Page_330">[Pg 330]</a></span> -artistic creations he runs into the mould of fool from the start with -a sportive fancy that seems inexhaustible, so that the very idea of a -rational result is impossible. He treats all alike, whether it be a -Strepsiades, who will join the ranks of philosophers in order to be -rid of his debts, or a Socrates, who offers to instruct the aforesaid -Strepsiades and his son, or Bacchus, whom he makes descend into the -lower world, in order to bring up a genuine tragic poet, and in just -the same way Cleon, the women and the Greeks, who would like to pump -up the goddess of Peace from the well. The key-note that we find in -all these various creations is the imperturbable self-assurance of -such characters one and all, which becomes all the more emphatic in -proportion as they prove themselves incapable of carrying into effect -that which they project. Our fools here are so entirely unembarrassed -in their folly, and also the more sensible among them possess such a -tincture of that which runs contrary to the very course upon which they -are set, that they all, the more sensible with the rest, remain fixed -to this personal attitude of prodigious imperturbility, no matter what -comes next or where it carries them. It is in fact the blessed laughter -of the Olympian gods, with their untroubled equanimity, now at home -in the human breast, and prepared for all contingences. And withal we -never find Aristophanes merely a cold or evil-disposed mocker. He was a -man of the finest education, a most exemplary citizen, to whom the weal -of Athens was of really deep importance, and who through thick and thin -shows himself to be a true patriot. What therefore is in the fullest -sense resolved in his comedies is, as already stated, not the divine -and what is of ethical import, but the thoroughgoing upside-down-ness -which inflates itself into the semblance of these substantive forces, -the particular form and distinctive mode of its manifestation, in which -the essential thing or matter is already from the first no longer -present, so that it can without restriction be simply handed over to -the unconcerned play of unqualified personal caprice. But for the very -reason that Aristophanes makes explicit the absolute contradiction -between the essential nature of the gods, or that of political and -social life, and the personal activities of individual persons or -citizens, who ought to endow such substantive<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_331" id="Page_331">[Pg 331]</a></span> form with reality, we -find in this very triumph of purely personal self-assertion, despite -all the profounder insight which the poet displays, one of the greatest -symptoms of the degeneracy of Greece. And it is on account of this that -these pictures of a wholly unperturbed sense of "everything coming -out right in the end" <a name="FNanchor_54_205" id="FNanchor_54_205"></a><a href="#Footnote_54_205" class="fnanchor">[54]</a> are as a matter of fact the last important -harvest which we have from the poetry created by the exuberant genius, -culture, and wit of the Greek nation.</p> - -<p>(<i>β</i>) I shall now direct attention to the dramatic art of the modern -world, and here, too, I only propose to emphasize the more general and -fundamental features which we find of importance, whether dealing with -tragedy or the ordinary drama and comedy.</p> - -<p>(<i>αα</i>) Tragedy, in the nobility which distinguishes it in its ancient -plastic form, is limited to the partial point of view that for its -exclusive and essential basis it only enforces as effective the -ethically substantive content and its necessary laws; and, on the other -hand, leaves the individual and subjective self-penetration of the -dramatic characters essentially unevolved; while comedy on its part, -to complete what we may regard as the reversed side of such plastic -construction, exhibits to us the personal caprice of soul-life in the -unfettered abandonment of its topsy-turvydom and ultimate dissolution.</p> - -<p><i>Modern tragedy</i> accepts in its own province from the first the -principle of subjectivity or self-assertion. It makes, therefore, the -personal intimacy of character—the character, that is, which is no -purely individual and vital embodiment of ethical forces in the classic -sense—its peculiar object and content. It, moreover, makes, in a type -of concurrence that is adapted to this end, human actions come into -collision through the instrumentality of the external accident of -circumstances in the way that a contingency of a similar character is -also decisive in its effect on the consequence, or appears to be so -decisive.</p> - -<p>In this connection we would subject to examination the following -fundamental points:</p> - -<p><i>Firsts</i> the nature of the varied <i>ends</i> which ought to come into -the executive process of the action as the content of the characters -therein.</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_332" id="Page_332">[Pg 332]</a></span></p> - -<p><i>Secondly</i>, the nature of the tragic <i>characters</i> themselves, as also -of the collisions they are compelled to face.</p> - -<p><i>Thirdly</i>, the nature of the final <i>issue</i> and tragic reconciliation, -as these differ from those of ancient tragedy.</p> - -<p>To start with, we may observe that, however much in romantic tragedy -the personal aspect of suffering and passions, in the true meaning -of such an attitude, is the focal centre, yet, for all that, it is -impossible in human activity that the ground basis of definite ends -borrowed from the concrete worlds of the family, the State, the -Church, and others should be dispensed with. In so far, however, as -in the drama under discussion, it is not the substantive content as -such in these spheres of life which constitutes the main interest of -individuals. Such ends are from a certain point of view particularized -in a breadth of extension and variety, as also in exceptional modes of -presentment, in which it often happens that what is truly essential is -only able to force itself on our attention with attenuated strength. -And over and above this fact, these ends receive an entirely altered -form. In the province of religion, for example, the content which -pre-eminently is asserted is no longer the particular ethical powers -exhibited imaginatively under the mode of divine individuals, either in -their own person or in the pathos of human heroes. It is the history of -Christ, or of saints and the like, which is now set before us. In the -political community it is mainly the position of kingship, the power of -vassal chiefs, the strife of dynasties, or the particular members of -one and the same ruling family which forms the content of the varied -picture. Nay, if we take a step further we find as the principal -subject-matter questions of civic or private right and other relations -of a similar character; and, further, we shall find a similar attention -paid to features in the family life which were not yet within the reach -of ancient drama. And the reason of this is that, inasmuch as in the -spheres of life above-mentioned the principle of the personal life in -its independence has asserted its claim, novel phases of existence make -their inevitable appearance in each one of them, which the modern man -claims to set up as the end and directory of his action.</p> - -<p>And, from a further point of view in this drama,<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_333" id="Page_333">[Pg 333]</a></span> it is the right -of subjectivity, as above defined, absolutely unqualified, which is -retained as the dominating content; and for this reason personal love, -honour, and the rest make such an exclusive appeal as ends of human -action that, while in one direction other relations cannot fail to -appear as the purely external background on which these interests -of our modern life are set in motion, in another such relations on -their own account actively conflict with the requirements of the more -individual state of emotion. Of more profound significance still is -wrong and crime, even assuming that a particular character does not -deliberately and to start with place himself in either, yet does not -avoid in order to attain his original purpose.</p> - -<p>And, furthermore, in contrast to this particularization and individual -standpoint, the ends proposed may likewise either in one direction -expand to cover the universality and all-inclusive embrace of the -content, or they are in another apprehended and carried into execution -as themselves intrinsically substantive. In the first respect, I will -merely recall to memory that typically philosophical tragedy, the -"Faust" of Goethe, in which, on the one hand, a spirit of disillusion -in the pursuit of science, and, on the other, the vital resources of a -worldly life and earthly enjoyment—in a word, the attempted mediation -in the tragic manner of an individual's wisdom and strife with the -Absolute in its essential significance and phenomenal manifestation, -offers a breadth of content such as no other dramatic poet has hitherto -ventured to include in one and the same composition. The "Carl Moor" -of Schiller is something of the same fashion. He rebels against the -entire order of civic society and the collective condition of the -world and the humanity of his time, and fortifies himself as such -against the same. Wallenstein in the same way conceives a great and -far-reaching purpose, the unity and peace of Germany, an object he -fails to carry into effect by the means which, in virtue of the fact -that they are wielded together in an artificial manner, and one that -lacks essential coherence, break in pieces and come to nought precisely -in the direction where he is most anxious of their success; and he -fails in the same way by reason of his opposition to the imperial -authority, upon which<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_334" id="Page_334">[Pg 334]</a></span> he himself and his enterprise are inevitably -shattered. Such objects of a world-wide policy, such as a Carl Moor or -a Wallenstein pursue, are as a rule not accomplished at the hands of -a single individual by the simple means that other men are induced to -obey and co-operate; they are carried into effect by the commanding -personality, partly acting in conjunction with the wills of many -others, and in part in opposition to, or at least on lines of which -they have no knowledge. As an illustration of a conception of objects -viewed in their essential significance, I will merely instance certain -tragedies of Calderon, in which love, honour, and similar virtues -are respectively to the rights and obligations in which they involve -the characters of the action, treated as so many unyielding laws of -independent force with all the stringency of a code. We find also -frequently much the same thing assumed in Schiller's tragic characters, -though the point of view is no doubt wholly different, at least to the -extent that such individuals conceive and combat for their ends with -the assumption they are universal and absolutely valid human rights. So -in the early play of "Kabale und Liebe" Major Ferdinand seeks to defend -the rights of Nature against the conveniences of fashionable society, -and, above all, claims of the Marquis Posa freedom of thought as an -inalienable possession of humanity.</p> - -<p>Generally speaking, however, in modern tragedy it is not the -substantive content of its object in the interest of which men act, -and which is maintained as the stimulus of their passion; rather -it is the inner experience of their heart and individual emotion, -or the particular qualities of their personality, which insist on -satisfaction. For even in the examples already referred to we find that -to a real extent in those heroes of Spanish honour and love the content -of their ultimate ends is so essentially of a personal character that -the rights and obligations deducible from the same are able to fuse in -direct concurrence with the individual desires of the heart, and to a -large extent, too, in the youthful works of Schiller this continual -insistence upon Nature, rights of man, and a converted world somewhat -savours of the excess of a wholly personal enthusiasm. And if it came -about that Schiller in later years endeavoured to enforce a more mature -type of pathos, this was simply due to the fact that it was his main -idea to restore once again in modern dramatic art<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_335" id="Page_335">[Pg 335]</a></span> the principle of -ancient tragedy.</p> - -<p>In order to emphasize still more distinctly the difference which in -this respect obtains between ancient and modern tragedy, I will merely -refer the reader to Shakespeare's "Hamlet." Here we find fundamentally -a collision similar to that which is introduced by Æschylus into his -"Choeporae" and that by Sophocles into his "Electra." For Hamlet's -father, too, and the King, as in these Greek plays, has been murdered, -and his mother has wedded the murderer. That which, however, in -the conception of the Greek dramatists possesses a certain ethical -justification—I mean the death of Agamemnon—relatively to his -sacrifice of Iphigeneia in the contrasted case of Shakespeare's play, -can only be viewed as an atrocious crime, of which Hamlet's mother -is innocent; so that the son is merely concerned in his vengeance to -direct his attention to the fratricidal king, and there is nothing in -the latter's character that possesses any real claim to his respect. -The real collision, therefore, does not turn on the fact that the son, -in giving effect to a rightful sense of vengeance, is himself forced -to violate morality, but rather on the particular personality, the -inner life of Hamlet, whose noble soul is not steeled to this kind of -energetic activity, but, while full of contempt for the world and life, -what between making up his mind and attempting to carry into effect or -preparing to carry into effect its resolves, is bandied from pillar -to post, and finally through his own procrastination and the external -course of events meets his own doom.</p> - -<p>If we now turn, in close connection with the above conclusions, to -our <i>second</i> point of fundamental importance in modern tragedy—that -is to say, the nature of the characters and their collisions—we -may summarily take a point of departure from the following general -observations.</p> - -<p>The heroes of ancient classic tragedy discover circumstances under -which they, so long as they irrefragably adhere to the <i>one</i> ethical -state of pathos which alone corresponds to their own already formed -personality, must infallibly come into conflict with an ethical -Power which opposes them and possesses an equal ethical claim to -recognition. Romantic characters, on the contrary, are from the first -placed wit<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_336" id="Page_336">[Pg 336]</a></span>hin a wide expanse of contingent relations and conditions, -within which every sort of action is possible; so that the conflict, -to which no doubt the external conditions presupposed supply the -occasion, essentially abides within the <i>character</i> itself, to which -the individuals concerned in their passion give effect, not, however, -in the interests of the ethical vindication of the truly substantive -claims, but for the simple reason that they are the kind of men they -are. Greek heroes also no doubt act in accordance with their particular -individuality; but this individuality, as before noted, if we take -for our examples the supreme results of ancient tragedy, is itself -necessarily identical with an ethical pathos which is substantive. In -modern tragedy the peculiar character in its real significance, and to -which it as a matter of accident remains constant, whether it happens -to grasp after that which on its own account is on moral grounds -justifiable, or is carried into wrong and crime, forms its resolves -under the dictate of personal wishes and necessities, or among other -things purely external considerations. In such a case, therefore, -though we may have a coalescence between the moral aspect of the object -and the character, yet, for all that, such a concurrence does not -constitute, and cannot constitute—owing to the divided character of -ends, passions, and the life wholly personal to the individual, the -<i>essential</i> basis and objective condition of the depth and beauty of -the tragic drama.</p> - -<p>In view of the great variety of difference which further separates -particular characters in this type of poetry, it is impossible to do -much in the way of generalization. I will, therefore, restrict myself -to a reference to the following fundamental points of view. A primary -opposition which at once invites notice is that of an <i>abstract</i>, and -consequently formal, characterization in its contrast with the actual -individuals whom we are accustomed to meet in the concrete living -world. As example of this type, we may with exceptional pertinency cite -the tragic characters of the French and Italians, which, originating -in the imitation of ancient drama, to a greater or less degree merely -amount to pure pers<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_337" id="Page_337">[Pg 337]</a></span>onifications of specific passions, such as love, -honour, fame, ambition, tyranny, and so forth, and which, while they -present the motives of their actions, as also the gradation and -quality of their emotions to the best advantage with a lavish display -of declamation, and all the arts of rhetoric, none the less by doing -so rather resemble the dramatic failures of Seneca than the dramatic -masterpieces of the Greeks. Spanish tragedy also receives the stamp -of this abstract style of character-drawing. In this case, however, -the pathos of love, in its conflict with honour, friendship, royal -prerogative, and the rest is itself of so abstract a subjective -character that in the case where the intention is to make this equally -ideal<a name="FNanchor_55_206" id="FNanchor_55_206"></a><a href="#Footnote_55_206" class="fnanchor">[55]</a> substantiality stand out as the genuine object of interest, -a more complete particularization of characters is hardly feasible. -The characters of Spanish drama, however, often possess a certain kind -of solidity, and, if I may use the expression, inflexible personality, -however wanting in content it may be, a feature that is absent from -French work; and at the same time Spanish writers, here also in -contrast to the cold simplicity which the movement of French tragedies -exhibits even in their tragic composition, know how to make up with the -cleverly invented abundance of interesting situations and developments -the deficiency referred to in the matter of characterization.</p> - -<p>In contrast to both these schools, and in their mastery of the -exposition of fully developed human characters and personality, -the English are exceptionally distinguished; and among them, and -soaring above the rest at an almost unapproachable height, stands -Shakespeare. For even in the cases where a purely formal passion, -as for instance ambition in Macbeth, or jealousy in Othello, claims -as its field the entire pathos<a name="FNanchor_56_207" id="FNanchor_56_207"></a><a href="#Footnote_56_207" class="fnanchor">[56]</a> of his tragic hero, such an -abstraction impairs by no fraction the full breadth of the personality. -Despite of this restriction of analysis<a name="FNanchor_57_208" id="FNanchor_57_208"></a><a href="#Footnote_57_208" class="fnanchor">[57]</a> the characters remain -throughout entire men. In fact, the more Shakespeare on the infinite -embrace of his world-stage, proceeds to develop the extreme limits -of evil and folly, to that extent, as I hav<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_338" id="Page_338">[Pg 338]</a></span>e already observed, on -these very boundaries—of course, not without real wealth of poetic -embellishment—he concentrates these characters in their limitations. -While doing so, however, he confers on them intelligence and -imagination; and, by means of the image in which they, by virtue of -that intelligence, contemplate themselves objectively as a work of art, -he makes them free artists of themselves, and is fully able, through -the complete virility and truth of his characterization, to awaken our -interest in criminals, no less than in the most vulgar and weak-witted -lubbers and fools. Of a similar nature is the style of expression he -makes his tragic characters adopt. It is at once individual, realistic, -emphatically vital, extraordinarily various, and, moreover, where -it seems advisable, it can rise to sublimity and is marked by an -overwhelming force of utterance. Its ideal intensity and its qualities -of invention are displayed in images and simile that flash from each -other with lightning rapidity. Its very rhetoric, here the barren -child of no school, but the growth of genuine emotion and penetration -into human personality, is such that, if we take into account this -extraordinary union of the directness of life itself and ideal -greatness of soul, we shall find it hard indeed to point to a single -other dramatic poet among the moderns whom we are entitled to rank in -his company. No doubt Goethe in his youth made a real effort to achieve -some approach to a like natural truth and detailed characterization; -but in the ideal force and exaltation of passion his rivalry collapses. -The style of Schiller, again, has shown an increasing tendency to -violent methods, the tempestuous expatiation of which lack the true -core of reality for their basis.</p> - -<p>Modern characters also differ in the nature of their <i>constancy</i> or -their spiritual <i>vacillation</i> and distraction. We find, no doubt, the -weakness of indecision, the fluctuations of reflection, the weighing -of reasons, conformably to which a resolve should be directed, here -and there in classic drama, and more particularly in the tragedies -of Euripides. But Euripides is a writer whose tendency is already to -forsake the wholly plastic completeness of characterization and action -and to develop exceptional aspects of personal sensibility. In modern -tragedy we meet yet more frequently such vacillating characters, more -particularly on the ground that they<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_339" id="Page_339">[Pg 339]</a></span> are essentially under the sway -of two opposed passions, which make them fluctuate from one resolve -or one kind of deed to another. I have already made some observations -on this attitude of vacillation in another context, and will now -merely supplement this by stating that, although the tragic action -must depend on colliding factors, yet where we find such a division in -<i>one</i> and the same individual such a concurrence is always attended -with precarious consequences. And the reason is that this disruption -into interests, which are opposed to each other, is due in part to an -obscurity and obtuseness of the intelligence, and in some measure, -too, to weakness and immaturity. We come across characters of this -type in the creations of Goethe's younger days, notably Weisungen, -Fernando in "Stella," and above all Clavigo. They are, as we may -say, double men, who are unable to secure a ready, and so stable, -individuality. It is wholly another matter when two opposed spheres of -life or moral obligation are equally sacred to a character which, on -its own account, is not deficient in stability, and such a person is -under the necessity of ranking himself on <i>one</i> side to the exclusion -of the other. In a case of that kind, the vacillation is merely a -moment of passage, and does not itself constitute, as it were, the -nervous system of the character. Again, of a somewhat similar kind, -is the tragic case where the spiritual life is seduced, despite its -nobler purpose, into objects of passion which are contradictory<a name="FNanchor_58_209" id="FNanchor_58_209"></a><a href="#Footnote_58_209" class="fnanchor">[58]</a> -to the same, as in the case of Schiller's "Holy Maid," and are then -forced to seek a recovery from this division of the soul in their own -intimate or objective life, or pay the penalty. At the same time, this -personal tragedy of the distraction of soul-life, when it is made the -pivot on which the tragic action revolves,<a name="FNanchor_59_210" id="FNanchor_59_210"></a><a href="#Footnote_59_210" class="fnanchor">[59]</a> contains, as a rule, -what is merely pitiful and painful, or, from another standpoint, -exasperating;<a name="FNanchor_60_211" id="FNanchor_60_211"></a><a href="#Footnote_60_211" class="fnanchor">[60]</a> and the poet will rather do better to avoid it than -go out of his way to find it and develop it. The worst case is that, -however, where suc<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_340" id="Page_340">[Pg 340]</a></span>h a vacillation and veering round of character and -the entire personality is—the very dialectic of art being thrown awry -for this purpose—made the principle of the entire presentation, as -though the truth of all importance was to demonstrate that no character -is in itself firmly rooted and self-assured. The one-sided ends of -specific passions, it is true, ought not to bring about a realization -which is secured without a battle; and also, in everyday life, they -cannot fail to experience, through the reactionary power of conditions -and individuals which oppose them, their finite character and lack -of stability. An issue of this kind, however, before the appearance -of which we are unable to get the pertinent conclusion, ought not to -be introduced as a dialectical piece of wheel adjustment<a name="FNanchor_61_212" id="FNanchor_61_212"></a><a href="#Footnote_61_212" class="fnanchor">[61]</a> in the -personality itself; if it is, the person concerned, viewed as <i>this</i> -personal state of the soul, is a wholly empty and undefined form, -whose collective living growth is found, no less in respect to its -objects than in its character, to be wholly wanting in definition. In -much the same way the case, also, is otherwise, where the change in -the spiritual condition of the entire man itself appears as a direct -consequent of just this, its own kind of self-detachment, so that only -that is developed and emphasized which essentially and from the first -lay secured in the character. As an example, we find in Shakespeare's -Lear that the original folly of the old man is intensified to the point -of madness much in the same way that Gloster's spiritual blindness is -converted into actual physical blindness, in which for the first time -his eyes are opened to the true distinction in the love he entertains -for his two sons respectively. It is precisely Shakespeare who, as a -contrast to that exposition of vacillating and essentially self-divided -characters, supplies us with the finest examples of essentially stable -and consequential characters, who go to their doom precisely in virtue -of this tenacious hold upon themselves and their ends. Unsupported by -the sanction of the moral law, but rather carried onward by the formal -necessity of their personality, they suffer themselves to be involved -in their acts by the coil of external circumstances, or they plunge -blindly therein and maintain themselves there by sheer force of will, -even where all that they do is merely done because they are impelled to -assert themselves against others, or because they have simply come to -the particular point they h<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_341" id="Page_341">[Pg 341]</a></span>ave reached. The rise of insurgent passion, -one essentially consonant with a certain type of character, one which -has not as yet fully emerged, but now secures its utmost expansion, -this onward movement and process of a great soul, with all the intimate -traits of its evolution, this picture of its selfdestructive conflict -with circumstances, human and objective conditions and results, is the -main content of some of Shakespeare's most interesting tragedies.</p> - -<p>The last of the subjects which we have still to discuss as proposed -is the nature of the <i>tragic issue</i> which characters in our present -drama have to confront, as also the type of tragic <i>reconciliation</i> -compatible with such a standpoint. In ancient tragedy it is the eternal -justice which, as the absolute might of destiny, delivers and restores -the harmony of substantive being in its ethical character by its -opposition to the particular forces which, in their strain to assert -an independent subsistence, come into collision, and which, in virtue -of the rational ideality implied in its operations, satisfies us even -where we see the downfall of particular men. -In so far as a justice of the same kind is present in modern tragedy, -it is necessarily, in part, more abstract on account of the closer -differentiation of ends and characters, and, in part, of a colder -nature and one that is more akin to that of a criminal court, in -virtue of the fact that the wrong and crime into which individuals are -necessarily carried, in so far as they are intent upon executing their -designs, are of a profounder significance. Macbeth, for instance, the -elder daughters of Lear and their husbands, the president in "Kabale -und Liebe," Richard III, and many similar examples, on account of -their atrocious conduct, only deserve the fate they get. This type of -<i>dénouement</i> usually is presented under the guise that individuals are -crushed by an actual force which they have defied in order to carry -out their personal aims. Wallenstein, for example, is shattered on the -adamantine wall of the imperial power; but the old Piccolomini, who, in -order to maintain the lawful régime, betrays a friend and misuses the -rights of friendship, is punished through the death and sacrifice of -his son. Götz von Berlichingen, too, attacks a dominant and securely -founded pol<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_342" id="Page_342">[Pg 342]</a></span>itical order, and goes to ground, as also Weislingen and -Adelheid, who range themselves, no doubt, on the side of this organized -power, but, through wrongful deed and disloyalty, prepare the way -to disaster. And along with this we have the demand emphasized, in -virtue of the personal point of view of such characters, that these -should of necessity appear themselves to acknowledge the justice of -their fate. Such a state of acceptance may either be of a religious -nature, in which case the soul becomes conscious of a more exalted and -indestructible condition of blessedness with which to confront the -collapse of its mundane personality; or it may be of a more formal, -albeit more worldly, type, in so far, that is, as the strength and -equanimity of the character persists in its course up to the point -of overthrow without breaking asunder; and in this way, despite all -circumstances and mischances, preserves with unimpaired energy its -personal freedom. Or, as a final alternative, where the substance of -such acceptance is of more real value, by the recognition that the lot -which the individual receives is the one, however bitter it may be, -which his action merits.</p> - -<p>From another point of view, however, we may see the tragic issue -also merely in the light of the effect of unhappy circumstances -and external accidents, which might have brought about, quite as -readily, a different result and a happy conclusion. From such a -point of view we have merely left us the conception that the modern -idea of individuality, with its searching definition of character, -circumstances, and developments, is handed over essentially to the -contingency of the earthly state, and must carry the fateful issues -of such finitude. Pure commiseration of this sort is, however, -destitute of meaning; and it is nothing less than a frightful kind of -external necessity in the particular case where we see the downfall -of essentially noble natures in their conflict thus assumed with the -mischance of purely external accidents. Such a course of events can -insistently arrest our attention; but in the result it can only be -horrible, and the demand is direct and irresistible that the external -accidents ought to accord with that which is identical with the -spiritual nature of such noble characters. Only as thus regarded can we -feel ourselves reconciled with the grievous end of Hamlet and Juliet. -From<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_343" id="Page_343">[Pg 343]</a></span> a purely external point of view, the death of Hamlet appears as -an accident occasioned by his duel with Laertes and the interchange of -the daggers. But in the background of Hamlet's soul, death is already -present from the first. The sandbank of finite condition will not -content his spirit. As the focus of such mourning and weakness, such -melancholy, such a loathing of all the conditions of life, we feel from -the first that, hemmed within such an environment of horror, he is a -lost man, whom the surfeit of the soul has wellnigh already done to -death before death itself approaches him from without. The same thing -may be observed in the case of Romeo and Juliet. The ground on which -these tender blossoms have been planted is alien to their nature; we -have no alternative left us but to lament the pathetic transiency of -such a beautiful love, which, as some tender rose in the vale of this -world of accident, is broken by rude storms and tempests, and the -frangible reckonings of noble and well-meaning devices. This pitiful -state of our emotions is, however, simply a feeling of reconciliation -that is painful, a kind of <i>unhappy blessedness</i> in misfortune.</p> - -<p>(<i>ββ</i>) Much as poets present to us the bare downfall of particular -people they are also able to treat the similar contingency of the -development of events in such a way, that, despite of the fact the -circumstances in all other respects would appear to give them little -enough support, a happy issue of such conditions and characters is -secured, in which they elicit our interest. No doubt the favour of -such a destiny of events has at least an equal claim upon us as the -disfavour. And so far as the question merely concerns the nature of -this difference, I must admit that I prefer a happy conclusion. How -could it be otherwise? I can myself discover no better ground for the -preference of misfortune, simply on its own account as such, to a -happy resolution than that of a certain condition of fine sensibility, -which is devoted to pain and suffering, and experiences more interest -in their presence than in painless situations such as it meets with -every day. If therefore the interests are of such a nature, that it is -really not worth the trouble to sacrifice the men or women concerned -on their altar, it being possible for them either to surrender their -objects, without making such surrender as is equivalent to a surren<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_344" id="Page_344">[Pg 344]</a></span>der -of their individuality, or to mutually come to an agreement in respect -thereof, there is no reason why the conclusion should be tragic. The -tragic aspect of the conflicts and their resolution ought in principle -merely to be enforced in the cases where it is actually necessary -in order to satisfy the claim of a superior point of view. If this -necessity is absent there is no sufficient ground for mere suffering -and unhappiness. And it is simply due to this fact that social <i>plays</i> -and <i>dramas</i> originate which form, as it were, an intermediate link -between tragedies and comedies. I have already in a previous passage -explained the poetical standpoint of this class of composition. Among -us Germans we find it to some extent appropriating what readily moves -us in the world of the citizen and family life; in another direction -it is preoccupied with chivalry, a movement to which the Götz of -Goethe has given a decided stimulus; mainly, however, we may call it -the triumph of <i>ordinary morality</i>, which in the large majority of -cases is the main thing celebrated. The subject-matter of such plays -most in vogue are questions of finance or property, differences of -status, unfortunate love affairs, examples of spiritual baseness in -the more restricted conditions and affairs of life and so on. In one -word, what we have here is that which otherwise is already before our -eyes, only with this difference, that in such moral dramas, virtue and -duty obtain the victory, and crime is shamed and punished, or betakes -itself to repentance, so that in a moral conclusion of this kind the -reconciliation ought to centre in this, namely, that whatever happens -good is the result. Thereby the fundamental interest is concentrated -in the personal or spiritual quality of views held and a good or evil -heart. The more, however, the abstractly moral state of mind or heart -supplies the pivot on which all turns, so much the less can it be the -pathos of a particular matter, or an intrinsically essential object, to -which the personality in question is attached. And add to this, from -a further point of view, so much the less ultimately is the definite -character able to maintain itself and persist in such self-assertion. -If all is to be finally focussed in the purely moral aspects of the -psychological state, or the condition of the heart, from a subjective -point<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_345" id="Page_345">[Pg 345]</a></span> of view such as this, with its dominating emphasis on ethical -reflection, no standing ground remains for any other definite -characteristics, or at least specific ends to be proposed. Let the -heart break and change its views. Such seems to be the idea. Pathetic -dramas of this type, notably Kotzebue's "Menschenhass und Reue," -and also too many moral offences in the dramas of Iffland, strictly -speaking, have therefore an issue which we can neither call good or -bad. I mean by this that the main thing is as a rule the question of -pardon and the promise of moral improvement, and we are therefore -confronted with that possibility of spiritual conversion and surrender -of the self. No doubt in this fact we discover the exalted nature and -greatness of Spirit. When, however, the jolly dog,<a name="FNanchor_62_213" id="FNanchor_62_213"></a><a href="#Footnote_62_213" class="fnanchor">[62]</a> as the heroes -of Kotzebue are for the most part, and not unfrequently Iffland's too, -after being a scamp and a rascal, suddenly promises to turn over a new -leaf, it is frankly impossible with a good-for-nothing chap of this -sort that his conversion can be otherwise than mere pretence, or of so -superficial a character that it merely affects his skin, and merely -supplies a momentary conclusion to the course of events that has no -substantial basis, but rather, by all ordinary reckoning, will take the -knave to disreputable quarters, if we will only acquaint ourselves with -his subsequent history.</p> - -<p>(<i>γγ</i>) As regards our <i>modern comedy</i> I must draw particular attention -to one point of difference, to which I have already alluded when -discussing the old Attic comedy. The point is this—whether the -folly and restricted outlook of the characters of the drama merely -appears ridiculous to others, or is equally perceived as such by those -persons themselves; whether in short the comic characters are an -object of laughter only to the audience, or also to such characters. -Aristophanes, that creator of genuine comedy, exclusively accepted -as the main principle of his plays the latter alternative. Already, -however, in Greek comedy of a later date, and subsequently in the hands -of Plautus and Terence, the opposite principle came into vogue; and in -our modern examples of comedy it has been carried to such a length that -we find a large number of comic compositions the inclination of which -is more or less the subject-matter which is ridiculous in a purely -prosaic sense, or rather we might say matters that leave a sour taste -in the mouth of and are repugnant to the comic characters. This is -the s<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_346" id="Page_346">[Pg 346]</a></span>tandpoint of Molière in particular in his best comedies, which -have no right to be regarded as farces. The prosaic quality here is -justified on the ground that the objects aimed at by such characters -are a matter of bitter earnest. They are deadly serious in the pursuit -of it; they are therefore quite unable to join with satisfaction in the -laughter, when they are finally deceived, or themselves are responsible -for its failure. They are in short merely the disillusioned objects of -a laughter foreign to themselves and generally damaging to themselves. -As an example: Molière's Tartuffe <i>le faux dévot</i>, viewed as the -unmasking of a really damned rascal has nothing funny in it, but is a -very earnest business, and the deception of the deluded Orgon amounts -to a sheer intensity of misfortune, which can only be resolved by the -<i>Deus ex machina</i>, in reference to whom the official of the court of -justice utters the following exhortation:</p> - -<p style="margin-left: 10%;"> -Remettez-vous, monsieur, d'une alarme si chaude.<br /> -Nous vivons sous un prince, ennemi de la fraude,<br /> -Un prince dont les yeux se font jour dans les coeurs,<br /> -Et que ne peut tromper tout l'art des imposteurs.<br /> -</p> - -<p>We may add, too, that the odious abstract<a name="FNanchor_63_214" id="FNanchor_63_214"></a><a href="#Footnote_63_214" class="fnanchor">[63]</a> excess of characters -so stable as, for example, Molière's "Miser," the absolutely stolid -and serious subjection of whom to his idiotic passion renders any -emancipation from such fetters impossible, contains in it nothing that -is genuinely comic.</p> - -<p>It is pre-eminently in this field that for compensation of such defects -a fine artistic power in the accurate and exhaustive delineation of -character is manifested, or a true mastery of the craft discovers its -best opportunity for an admirably thought-out intrigue. As a rule the -occasion for such an intrigue is supplied by the circumstance that some -character or other endeavours to secure his objects by deluding some -one else, such a course appearing to harmonize<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_347" id="Page_347">[Pg 347]</a></span> with these interests -and advance them. As a matter of fact, however, it only results in the -contradictory situation that it is through this pernicious demand they -are self-destructive. In opposition to such a plot we find as a rule -a similar plot of dissembled appearances put in motion, which has for -its object the like confusion of the original plotter. Such a general -scheme admits of an infinite number and degree of ups and downs in the -interweaving of its situations which are adapted to every conceivable -subtlety. The Spaniards are, in particular, the most consummate masters -in the invention of such intrigues and developments, and have composed -much that is delightful and excellent in this class of work. The -subject-matter generally consists of the attractive incidents of love -or affairs of honour and the like. In tragedy these bring about the -profoundest collisions; in comedy, however, where such qualities as -pride and love that has been long experienced do not assert themselves -as such, but rather by doing the reverse and in the result give the -lie to themselves, such interests can merely appear to us as entirely -superficial and comic.<a name="FNanchor_64_215" id="FNanchor_64_215"></a><a href="#Footnote_64_215" class="fnanchor">[64]</a> A word in conclusion as to the characters -who hatch and carry out such intrigues. Such are usually, following -the example of the slaves in the Roman comedy, servants or menials, -who have no respect for the objects of their superiors, but rather -make them subordinate to their own advantage or bring them to nought, -and merely present us with the amusing position, that the real masters -are the servants and the masters the slaves, or at least give rise to -all kinds of comic situation, which come about accidentally, or are -directly the result of intention. We of course, as audience, are in the -know of such mysteries, and can fortify ourselves against every sort of -cunning and deceit, which often carries the most serious consequences -to fathers, uncles, aunts, and the rest, all of the most re<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_348" id="Page_348">[Pg 348]</a></span>spectable -antecedents; and we may laugh as we please over the contradictory -situations that appear before us, or are involved in such ingenious -deceptions.</p> - -<p>In this kind of way our modern comedy, generally speaking, gives play -on the stage to private interests and personalities of the social life -I have mentioned in their accidental vagaries, laughable features, -abnormal habits and follies, partly by means of character delineation, -and partly with the help of comic developments of situations and -circumstances. A joviality so frank and genial as that which persists -in the Aristophanic comedy as the mediating element of its resolution, -does not animate this kind of comedy; or rather cases occur where -it can be actually repulsive, that is to say, where that which is -essentially evil, the tricks of menials, the treachery of sons and -wards towards worthy men, fathers and guardians is triumphant, always -assuming that the persons deluded have in no way themselves been -influenced by false prejudices or eccentricities of such a kind that -there is some reason why they should be made to appear ridiculous in -their helpless stupidity and handed over as the sport of the aims of -others.</p> - -<p>In a converse way, however, and in contrast as such to the above -generally prosaic type of treatment, the modern world, too, has -elaborated a world of comedy which is both truly comic and poetical -in its nature. The fundamental note here again is the cheeriness of -disposition, the inexhaustible resources of fun, no matter what may -be the nature of miscarriage or bad luck, the exuberance and dash of -what is at bottom nothing better than pure tomfoolery, and, in a word, -exploited self-assurance. We have here as a result, in yet profounder -expatiation, and yet more intense display of humour, whether the sphere -of it be more restricted or capacious, and whether the mode of it be -more or less important, what runs on parallel lines with that which -Aristophanes in the ancient world and in his own field created beyond -all rivalry. As the master, who in a similar way outshines all others -in his field, or rather the particular portion to which I now refer, -I will, though without now further entering into detail, once again -emphasize the name of William Shakespeare.</p> - -<p class="center">*</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_349" id="Page_349">[Pg 349]</a></span></p> - -<p>Having completed our review of the types under which comedy is -elaborated we have at last reached the absolute conclusion of our -scientific inquiry. We started with symbolical art, in which the -ideality of the human soul struggles to discover itself as content -and configuration, and, in a word, to become an object to itself. -We passed on to the plastic of classical art, which displays to -human vision that which has become unveiled to itself as substantive -being in man's vital personality. We reached our conclusion in the -romantic art of the individual soul-life, that inward world united to -the absolute medium of its self-conscious energy, which expatiates -unfettered within its own ideal life of Spirit; and which, content -with that realm, no longer unites itself with what is objective -and particularized, and finally makes itself aware of the negative -significance of such a resolution in the humour of the comic Spirit. -Nevertheless we find that in this very consummation it is Comedy which -opens the way to a dissolution of all that human art implies. For -the aim of all art is nothing else than that identity asserted and -displayed by the human Spirit, in which the eternal, the Divine, the -essential and explicated truth is unfolded in the forms and phenomenal -presence of the objective world to the apprehension of our external -senses and our emotional life and imagination. If, however, as is the -fact, comedy merely enforces this unity under a mode that annihilates -it, inasmuch as the absolute substance,<a name="FNanchor_65_216" id="FNanchor_65_216"></a><a href="#Footnote_65_216" class="fnanchor">[65]</a> which strives here to -enforce its realized manifestation, perceives that this realization -is,—through the instrumentality of those interests which have now -secured an independent freedom within the embrace of the objective -world of Nature,<a name="FNanchor_66_217" id="FNanchor_66_217"></a><a href="#Footnote_66_217" class="fnanchor">[66]</a> and are as such exclusively directed to what is -contingent and personal to the soul,—itself shattered, it follows that -the presence and activity of the Absolute is no longer truly asserted -in positive coalescence with the individual characters and ends of -existing objective reality, but rather solely gives effect to itself in -the negative form that everything which does not correspond with itself -is thereby cancelled,<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_350" id="Page_350">[Pg 350]</a></span> and all that remains is the presence of this -free personal activity of soul-life which is displayed in and along -with this dissolution as aware of itself and self-assured.</p> - -<p>By such a path, then, as this we have arrived at our goal; and with -the aid of our philosophical method have gathered every essential type -and determinant of the beauty and conformation of art into a garland, -the task of arranging which in its associate completeness belongs to -the most worthy of any within the range of human science to undertake. -For in human Art we are not merely dealing with playthings, however -pleasant or useful they may be, but with the liberation of the human -Spirit from the substance and forms of finite condition. We are -occupied with the presence and reconciliation of the Absolute in sense -and the phenomenal, with a revelation of truth, which is not exhausted -of its wealth in natural-history, but is unfolded in the history of -the world, as a constituent part of which Art supplies us with the -most beautiful point of view, the most generous reward for the severe -labours of our contact with objective reality and the grievous pains -of knowledge. And for this reason it was impossible that our inquiry -should wholly restrict itself to the criticism of individual works -of art, or any mere recipe or inducement to their production. Rather -it could have but the one object, namely, that of following up, of -seizing and retaining in and through the instrumentality of thought the -fundamental notion of beauty and art through all the stages which it -passes in its process of realization.</p> - -<p>If I may be permitted to assume that from the above explained point -of view my exposition has not been wholly inadequate to general -expectation, and that the bonds of obligation with which I have -throughout been united to my reader in the pursuit of an object which -we hold in common are now released, I will merely add the wish, it is -my last word, that a bond yet more exalted and indestructible with the -idea of beauty and truth may rivet itself between us in place of that -released, and establish an union which shall now and for good remain -secure.</p> - -<hr class="r5" /> -<div class="footnote"> - -<p><a name="Footnote_1_152" id="Footnote_1_152"></a><a href="#FNanchor_1_152"><span class="label">[1]</span></a> <i>Diess treibende Pathos.</i> Pathos is here used to signify -the emotional state. This "motive force" would give the sense.</p></div> - -<div class="footnote"> - -<p><a name="Footnote_2_153" id="Footnote_2_153"></a><a href="#FNanchor_2_153"><span class="label">[2]</span></a> <i>Als konkretes Daseyn zur Existence gebracht.</i></p></div> - -<div class="footnote"> - -<p><a name="Footnote_3_154" id="Footnote_3_154"></a><a href="#FNanchor_3_154"><span class="label">[3]</span></a> <i>In der äusseren Objektivität.</i></p></div> - -<div class="footnote"> - -<p><a name="Footnote_4_155" id="Footnote_4_155"></a><a href="#FNanchor_4_155"><span class="label">[4]</span></a> The reference is of course to lyric composition. By <i>reale -Individualisirung</i> Hegel seems to refer to the apprehension by the -lyric poet of the individual subjective experience in its independent -reality.</p></div> - -<div class="footnote"> - -<p><a name="Footnote_5_156" id="Footnote_5_156"></a><a href="#FNanchor_5_156"><span class="label">[5]</span></a> What Hegel means apparently by this statement is that -the results of the action are in the view of the persons concerned -primarily referred to their own act of volition and sense of -responsibility, and as such they modify their future intention or -conduct.</p></div> - -<div class="footnote"> - -<p><a name="Footnote_6_157" id="Footnote_6_157"></a><a href="#FNanchor_6_157"><span class="label">[6]</span></a> Poet. c. 5.</p></div> - -<div class="footnote"> - -<p><a name="Footnote_7_158" id="Footnote_7_158"></a><a href="#FNanchor_7_158"><span class="label">[7]</span></a> <i>Einem colliderenden Handeln.</i></p></div> - -<div class="footnote"> - -<p><a name="Footnote_8_159" id="Footnote_8_159"></a><a href="#FNanchor_8_159"><span class="label">[8]</span></a> As lyric poetry is.</p></div> - -<div class="footnote"> - -<p><a name="Footnote_9_160" id="Footnote_9_160"></a><a href="#FNanchor_9_160"><span class="label">[9]</span></a> Poet., c. 7.</p></div> - -<div class="footnote"> - -<p><a name="Footnote_10_161" id="Footnote_10_161"></a><a href="#FNanchor_10_161"><span class="label">[10]</span></a> The fact should be noted, however, that in the -illustration each division is a complete whole in itself.</p></div> - -<div class="footnote"> - -<p><a name="Footnote_11_162" id="Footnote_11_162"></a><a href="#FNanchor_11_162"><span class="label">[11]</span></a> Hegel apparently means this by his reference to <i>die -beiden ersten Elemente</i>, but the passage is not very clear.</p></div> - -<div class="footnote"> - -<p><a name="Footnote_12_163" id="Footnote_12_163"></a><a href="#FNanchor_12_163"><span class="label">[12]</span></a> <i>Gehalt</i>. That is, an imaginative personality, which -seizes the type and our general humanity.</p></div> - -<div class="footnote"> - -<p><a name="Footnote_13_164" id="Footnote_13_164"></a><a href="#FNanchor_13_164"><span class="label">[13]</span></a> In this obscure passage I have rather sought to emphasize -what appears to me the general sense than adhere to literal accuracy. -What is contrasted is clearly the naturalism of such a diction as -Schiller's "Robbers" and the French classic diction.</p></div> - -<div class="footnote"> - -<p><a name="Footnote_14_165" id="Footnote_14_165"></a><a href="#FNanchor_14_165"><span class="label">[14]</span></a> <i>Der Allgemeinheit.</i> We should say of "a more ideal or -creative atmosphere." The creative poet imports his own universality -into the final result both of diction and imaginative conception. Hegel -adheres to the philosophical term, which, apart from explanation, is -certainly very bald, and even, as it stands, unintelligible.</p></div> - -<div class="footnote"> - -<p><a name="Footnote_15_166" id="Footnote_15_166"></a><a href="#FNanchor_15_166"><span class="label">[15]</span></a> It is not very clear to what Hegel here refers unless to -the fact that female parts were played by youths.</p></div> - -<div class="footnote"> - -<p><a name="Footnote_16_167" id="Footnote_16_167"></a><a href="#FNanchor_16_167"><span class="label">[16]</span></a> We should say rather "stunned as by a blow," -<i>zerschmettert,</i> rather than <i>zerschnitten.</i></p></div> - -<div class="footnote"> - -<p><a name="Footnote_17_168" id="Footnote_17_168"></a><a href="#FNanchor_17_168"><span class="label">[17]</span></a> <i>Eines grossen Gemüths.</i> It is not clear how far the -reference is to the poet or the characters. It applies to both.</p></div> - -<div class="footnote"> - -<p><a name="Footnote_18_169" id="Footnote_18_169"></a><a href="#FNanchor_18_169"><span class="label">[18]</span></a> Poet., c. 4.</p></div> - -<div class="footnote"> - -<p><a name="Footnote_19_170" id="Footnote_19_170"></a><a href="#FNanchor_19_170"><span class="label">[19]</span></a> Vol. i, pp. 355-379.</p></div> - -<div class="footnote"> - -<p><a name="Footnote_20_171" id="Footnote_20_171"></a><a href="#FNanchor_20_171"><span class="label">[20]</span></a> Poet., c. 6.</p></div> - -<div class="footnote"> - -<p><a name="Footnote_21_172" id="Footnote_21_172"></a><a href="#FNanchor_21_172"><span class="label">[21]</span></a> Apart from the practical impossibility of enforcing such -a condition in modern times, Hegel appears here rather to overlook -the fact that the printing of a work is of great convenience, and may -even involve less expense where its repetition in several theatres is -possible, and, after all, important drama is literature. Where the art -is bad it is no more possible to prevent its appearance, if the artist -is able to afford the expense of publication, than in any other art. -In the one case as in the other public taste and the law of supply and -demand are here the sole and ultimate tests. Sophocles may have written -his dramas, no doubt, with a particular stage in view, but we are not -therefore entitled to conclude that either he or Aristophanes would -have refused assent to the publication of any or all of their works had -there been a publisher willing to accept responsibility. Most certainly -we may suppose that Shakespeare would not have done so, at least after -due representation and revision. I have, however, met with students of -Shakespeare who maintain that no complete autograph manuscript of any -single drama of this poet ever existed.</p></div> - -<div class="footnote"> - -<p><a name="Footnote_22_173" id="Footnote_22_173"></a><a href="#FNanchor_22_173"><span class="label">[22]</span></a> I think it is obvious that if we take the case of the -finest musical reproduction by individual artists of the first rank -this distinction is not so emphatic as Hegel would make it out to -be. A really great musical performance is something much more than a -reproduction of musical sound. The effect of personality plays here a -part of real and essential importance.</p></div> - -<div class="footnote"> - -<p><a name="Footnote_23_174" id="Footnote_23_174"></a><a href="#FNanchor_23_174"><span class="label">[23]</span></a> <i>Rollenfächer.</i> Hegel may possibly mean "the professional -adjustment of harmonious castes."</p></div> - -<div class="footnote"> - -<p><a name="Footnote_24_175" id="Footnote_24_175"></a><a href="#FNanchor_24_175"><span class="label">[24]</span></a> See vol. iii, pp. 427-430.</p></div> - -<div class="footnote"> - -<p><a name="Footnote_25_176" id="Footnote_25_176"></a><a href="#FNanchor_25_176"><span class="label">[25]</span></a> <i>Unmittelbaren Individualität.</i> Hegel means the -individuality that is abstract, not soldered into the substance of -concrete human life.</p></div> - -<div class="footnote"> - -<p><a name="Footnote_26_177" id="Footnote_26_177"></a><a href="#FNanchor_26_177"><span class="label">[26]</span></a> <i>Das Göttliche.</i></p></div> - -<div class="footnote"> - -<p><a name="Footnote_27_178" id="Footnote_27_178"></a><a href="#FNanchor_27_178"><span class="label">[27]</span></a> <i>In Gegentheil seiner.</i> Hegel means, apparently, that the -principle asserts itself positively rather than as the mere negation of -the finite, as in exclusive asceticism.</p></div> - -<div class="footnote"> - -<p><a name="Footnote_28_179" id="Footnote_28_179"></a><a href="#FNanchor_28_179"><span class="label">[28]</span></a> <i>Das Sittliche</i>, <i>i.e.,</i> concrete ethical condition.</p></div> - -<div class="footnote"> - -<p><a name="Footnote_29_180" id="Footnote_29_180"></a><a href="#FNanchor_29_180"><span class="label">[29]</span></a> Hegel appears to understand by pathos here little more -than a psychological state.</p></div> - -<div class="footnote"> - -<p><a name="Footnote_30_181" id="Footnote_30_181"></a><a href="#FNanchor_30_181"><span class="label">[30]</span></a> <i>Element</i>, <i>i.e.,</i> apparently, "this primitive impulse of -realization."</p></div> - -<div class="footnote"> - -<p><a name="Footnote_31_182" id="Footnote_31_182"></a><a href="#FNanchor_31_182"><span class="label">[31]</span></a> Hegel's language, <i>wenn sie itzt aber wirklich</i>, seems to -go as far as my translation. The difficulty of the entire passage, and -it is no doubt considerable, is primarily due to the fact that Hegel -is here importing into the notion of classic divinities the profounder -significance of what he calls <i>sittlichen Mächte</i>. By doing this he -can more readily shelve the problem how we are to regard the nature of -their existence as potential forces of the Divine Being; that is, apart -from their operative energy in human life, as also the <i>modus operandi</i> -of such Divine energy in its original participation with a real -world. He avoids, no doubt, one of the most disputed aspects of his -philosophy. But if it is urged in criticism that at least in part his -present exposition tends rather to vagueness, or at least to accept a -certain measure of symbolism rather than remain severely on the ground -of genuine philosophical method and thought, to associate itself rather -with Plato than Aristotle, in the present context, at any rate, I am -inclined to agree with it.</p></div> - -<div class="footnote"> - -<p><a name="Footnote_32_183" id="Footnote_32_183"></a><a href="#FNanchor_32_183"><span class="label">[32]</span></a> <i>Der Gewalt des Anundfürsichseyenden.</i> Lit., of that -which is or becomes explicit on its own account, i.e., essentially. -Hegel refers, of course, to the ethical forces in the process of life.</p></div> - -<div class="footnote"> - -<p><a name="Footnote_33_184" id="Footnote_33_184"></a><a href="#FNanchor_33_184"><span class="label">[33]</span></a> Hegel here uses the word <i>einig</i> rather in its secondary -sense than in its primary one of <i>unique.</i></p></div> - -<div class="footnote"> - -<p><a name="Footnote_34_185" id="Footnote_34_185"></a><a href="#FNanchor_34_185"><span class="label">[34]</span></a> <i>Als das zu Erhaltende,</i> viz., the consistency of -concrete life.</p></div> - -<div class="footnote"> - -<p><a name="Footnote_35_186" id="Footnote_35_186"></a><a href="#FNanchor_35_186"><span class="label">[35]</span></a> By <i>ihrer unendlichen Sicherheit</i> Hegel refers to -the stability of the principle of self-conscious, and self-assured -character, which in its weakness may be merely equivalent to -cocksuredness.</p></div> - -<div class="footnote"> - -<p><a name="Footnote_36_187" id="Footnote_36_187"></a><a href="#FNanchor_36_187"><span class="label">[36]</span></a> <i>Wohlgemuthkeit und Zuversicht</i>.</p></div> - -<div class="footnote"> - -<p><a name="Footnote_37_188" id="Footnote_37_188"></a><a href="#FNanchor_37_188"><span class="label">[37]</span></a> Hegel seems to have in his mind characters in comedy of -which Falstaff may be taken as a supreme example, and Shakespeare above -all the creator of many such. Roy Richmond and Sancho Panza are of the -same type.</p></div> - -<div class="footnote"> - -<p><a name="Footnote_38_189" id="Footnote_38_189"></a><a href="#FNanchor_38_189"><span class="label">[38]</span></a> <i>Der in der Menschenbrust waltenden Götter.</i></p></div> - -<div class="footnote"> - -<p><a name="Footnote_39_190" id="Footnote_39_190"></a><a href="#FNanchor_39_190"><span class="label">[39]</span></a> In no religious or even strictly ethical sense of course.</p></div> - -<div class="footnote"> - -<p><a name="Footnote_40_191" id="Footnote_40_191"></a><a href="#FNanchor_40_191"><span class="label">[40]</span></a> I am not quite sure what Hegel means by his use here of -the word <i>Versühnung</i>, lit., reconciliation. I presume he means a power -of harmonious recovery, whether in a good sense is not quite clear.</p></div> - -<div class="footnote"> - -<p><a name="Footnote_41_192" id="Footnote_41_192"></a><a href="#FNanchor_41_192"><span class="label">[41]</span></a> Formal as contrasted with really ethical content.</p></div> - -<div class="footnote"> - -<p><a name="Footnote_42_193" id="Footnote_42_193"></a><a href="#FNanchor_42_193"><span class="label">[42]</span></a> <i>Die Substanz</i>. I presume this is the meaning, <i>i.e</i>., -the substantive ideality of the ethical forces inherent in man. The -entire passage is sufficiently difficult to translate, or indeed wholly -to follow, or at least apart from its subsequent application to the -chorus of Tragedy.</p></div> - -<div class="footnote"> - -<p><a name="Footnote_43_194" id="Footnote_43_194"></a><a href="#FNanchor_43_194"><span class="label">[43]</span></a> <i>Allgemeine.</i> Formal in the sense that such a state is -not concretely realized in action, but restricts itself to the ideal -homogeneity of its form.</p></div> - -<div class="footnote"> - -<p><a name="Footnote_44_195" id="Footnote_44_195"></a><a href="#FNanchor_44_195"><span class="label">[44]</span></a> It is perhaps best to repeat Hegel's own phrase.</p></div> - -<div class="footnote"> - -<p><a name="Footnote_45_196" id="Footnote_45_196"></a><a href="#FNanchor_45_196"><span class="label">[45]</span></a> <i>Die sittliche Berechtigung zu einer bestimmten That.</i> -The context shows that Hegel does not merely mean the justification in -the individual conscience, which is demanded by and perfected in such -activity, but the actual ethical claim which is vindicated in such -action.</p></div> - -<div class="footnote"> - -<p><a name="Footnote_46_197" id="Footnote_46_197"></a><a href="#FNanchor_46_197"><span class="label">[46]</span></a> That is, the content of the dramatic action in Greek -drama.</p></div> - -<div class="footnote"> - -<p><a name="Footnote_47_198" id="Footnote_47_198"></a><a href="#FNanchor_47_198"><span class="label">[47]</span></a> By <i>Rechtfertigung</i> Hegel here seems to mean not so much -the vindicated right as the degree of responsibility which a certain -attitude of mind involves. It is the nature of the subjection to the -vindicated right, or its absence.</p></div> - -<div class="footnote"> - -<p><a name="Footnote_48_199" id="Footnote_48_199"></a><a href="#FNanchor_48_199"><span class="label">[48]</span></a> By <i>die subjektive Vertiefung der Persönlichkeit</i> Hegel -would seem to mean the psychological analysis of character on its own -account.</p></div> - -<div class="footnote"> - -<p><a name="Footnote_49_200" id="Footnote_49_200"></a><a href="#FNanchor_49_200"><span class="label">[49]</span></a> <i>Blosser Ausgleichung.</i> The metaphor seems to be that of -a final settlement of accounts, a general settlement would be perhaps a -better translation.</p></div> - -<div class="footnote"> - -<p><a name="Footnote_50_201" id="Footnote_50_201"></a><a href="#FNanchor_50_201"><span class="label">[50]</span></a> Hegel's statement is hardly supported by the facts as -they are narrated in the "Œdipus Rex." It is the force of facts rather -than a power of prevision, which arouse the knowledge of the terrible -truth. But Hegel is here evidently most absorbed in the ideal and -universal significance of the drama.</p></div> - -<div class="footnote"> - -<p><a name="Footnote_51_202" id="Footnote_51_202"></a><a href="#FNanchor_51_202"><span class="label">[51]</span></a> That is, of course, in death. Sophocles himself of course -only very indefinitely, through the evidence of an eye-witness, refers -to such a possible apotheosis.</p></div> - -<div class="footnote"> - -<p><a name="Footnote_52_203" id="Footnote_52_203"></a><a href="#FNanchor_52_203"><span class="label">[52]</span></a> The statement of the general contrast is no doubt true -enough. It may be doubted, however, whether Hegel's own interpretation -of the reconciliation of Œdipus as one consummated in death can be -wholly brought under the ancient conception. It would seem truer to -admit that in the spirit at least of the "Œdipus Coloneus" we have, at -least in so far as that reconciliation is objective, and not merely a -reconciling influence on our minds, the spectators, as in the case of -the deaths of King Lear or Cornelia, in the sense that "death makes all -things sweet," a mysterious approach to problems which Christianity -first attempted seriously to solve, and which are usually regarded -as insoluble without the assumption of a future state, or at least -a divine absorption. Even admitting that Œdipus in his death became -a real constituent of the harmonious unity of the civic life that -received him, we cannot with truth say that such a reconciliation was -one in which he shared personally, and whereof he was conscious, except -in so far as he was aware of this by prevision; and to that extent the -reconciliation was not in his death, but rather, as in the Christian -view, a condition of the soul, a conviction that by his death he would -live again,—almost identical in fact with some modern interpretations -of immortality.</p></div> - -<div class="footnote"> - -<p><a name="Footnote_53_204" id="Footnote_53_204"></a><a href="#FNanchor_53_204"><span class="label">[53]</span></a> Hegel means the conflict between the universal social -interest and the private interest, between the concrete social life and -the wholly private life.</p></div> - -<div class="footnote"> - -<p><a name="Footnote_54_205" id="Footnote_54_205"></a><a href="#FNanchor_54_205"><span class="label">[54]</span></a> I think this gives the nearest approach I can make to the -self-coined word <i>Grundwohlseyns</i>, lit., "the at bottom well being."</p></div> - -<div class="footnote"> - -<p><a name="Footnote_55_206" id="Footnote_55_206"></a><a href="#FNanchor_55_206"><span class="label">[55]</span></a> <i>Subjektiven Substantialität.</i> Ideal, that is, as -opposed to a substantive content based on the facts of living people. -Impersonations of qualities imagined rather than portraits of living -men, ideal therefore in a theoretic and bad sense.</p></div> - -<div class="footnote"> - -<p><a name="Footnote_56_207" id="Footnote_56_207"></a><a href="#FNanchor_56_207"><span class="label">[56]</span></a> As previously stated I adopt Hegel's expression, being -unable to express it otherwise better. The whole emotional condition is -more or less the meaning, but it is rooted in Greek literature.</p></div> - -<div class="footnote"> - -<p><a name="Footnote_57_208" id="Footnote_57_208"></a><a href="#FNanchor_57_208"><span class="label">[57]</span></a> <i>In dieser Bestimmtheit</i>, lit., in this particular -definition of their content.</p></div> - -<div class="footnote"> - -<p><a name="Footnote_58_209" id="Footnote_58_209"></a><a href="#FNanchor_58_209"><span class="label">[58]</span></a> Hegel may mean that the passions are opposed to each -other. The nett result is the same.</p></div> - -<div class="footnote"> - -<p><a name="Footnote_59_210" id="Footnote_59_210"></a><a href="#FNanchor_59_210"><span class="label">[59]</span></a> Lit., "Is made the tragic lever."</p></div> - -<div class="footnote"> - -<p><a name="Footnote_60_211" id="Footnote_60_211"></a><a href="#FNanchor_60_211"><span class="label">[60]</span></a> The epithet might mean also "suggestive of personal -irritation," but the other epithets rather negative this rendering.</p></div> - -<div class="footnote"> - -<p><a name="Footnote_61_212" id="Footnote_61_212"></a><a href="#FNanchor_61_212"><span class="label">[61]</span></a> <i>Räderwerk.</i> The whole of this passage, in its -theoretical analysis, is extremely difficult not merely to translate, -but to follow clearly.</p></div> - -<div class="footnote"> - -<p><a name="Footnote_62_213" id="Footnote_62_213"></a><a href="#FNanchor_62_213"><span class="label">[62]</span></a> I presume this is the meaning of <i>Pursche</i> or <i>Bursche</i>, -and not merely "youngster."</p></div> - -<div class="footnote"> - -<p><a name="Footnote_63_214" id="Footnote_63_214"></a><a href="#FNanchor_63_214"><span class="label">[63]</span></a> Abstract in the sense that the vices are detached in -their extreme from concrete human nature.</p></div> - -<div class="footnote"> - -<p><a name="Footnote_64_215" id="Footnote_64_215"></a><a href="#FNanchor_64_215"><span class="label">[64]</span></a> I have made the best I can of a very badly expressed -sentence, and, as I should add, a very meagre description of the aim of -modern comic drama. I am, however, not quite satisfied that it is an -adequate translation, or that I have grasped what Hegel means by the -words <i>nicht gestehen zu wollen</i>. It would apply very aptly to such a -character as Sir Willoughby Patterne, but the pertinency of such an -epithet as <i>lang empfunden</i> I fail to see. I doubt myself if we have -here anything more than a chance note of Hegel tacked in by editors. -The whole of the present paragraph is a very jejune description of the -treatment of the love passion or affairs of honour by modern drama. A -pity we cannot supplement it with the substance of Meredith's "Essay on -Comedy." The passage, however, must be read as qualified by the further -note lower down on the exuberance of one aspect of modern comedy. But -the reference to "Comedy" in the modern sense is a mere fragment.</p></div> - -<div class="footnote"> - -<p><a name="Footnote_65_216" id="Footnote_65_216"></a><a href="#FNanchor_65_216"><span class="label">[65]</span></a> That is, self-conscious life. The Absolute here seems to -be identified with man's self-conscious activity.</p></div> - -<div class="footnote"> - -<p><a name="Footnote_66_217" id="Footnote_66_217"></a><a href="#FNanchor_66_217"><span class="label">[66]</span></a> I think this is what Hegel must mean here by <i>im Elemente -der Wirklichkeit</i>, in the element, that is, of material reality.</p></div> - - -<hr class="full" /> - - - -<p> -INDEX -<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, 213-215, 223; iv, <a href="#Page_306">306</a>, <a href="#Page_324">324</a>;</span><br /> -<span style="margin-left: 1em;">to the "Coephorae," and the "Seven before Thebes,"</span><br /> -<span style="margin-left: 1em;">iv, <a href="#Page_318">318</a>; change of scene in his dramas, iv, <a href="#Page_257">257</a>;</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, 345.</span><br /> -Aesop, Fables of, ii, 115.<br /> -Anacreon, odes of, iv, <a href="#Page_203">203</a>, <a href="#Page_233">233</a>.<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, <a href="#Page_277">277</a>, <a href="#Page_283">283</a>, <a href="#Page_304">304</a>, <a href="#Page_329">329</a>; himself an actor,</span><br /> -<span style="margin-left: 1em;">iv, <a href="#Page_286">286</a>; his "Ecclesiazusae," iv, <a href="#Page_303">303</a>.</span><br /> -Aristotle, reference to the "Poetics," i, 19;<br /> -<span style="margin-left: 1em;">on tragedy, i, 283; on use of simile, ii, 143;</span><br /> -<span style="margin-left: 1em;">proper subject of tragedy, iv, <a href="#Page_131">131</a>;</span><br /> -<span style="margin-left: 1em;">on unities of time and place, iv, <a href="#Page_256">256</a>.</span><br /> -Artist, as executant, iii, 426-430.<br /> -Athene, nature of as goddess of Athens, iv, <a href="#Page_325">325</a>.<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, 50-61, 91.<br /> -Calderon, quotation from, ii, 142; comparisons of, ii, 149.<br /> -Camoens, the "Lysiad" of, iv, <a href="#Page_190">190</a>.<br /> -Cervantes, type of comedy in "Don Quixote," i, 262; ii, 374;<br /> -<span style="margin-left: 1em;">dissolution of chivalry as depicted by Cervantes and</span><br /> -<span style="margin-left: 1em;">Ariosto, ii, 373.</span><br /> -Chivalry, general description of, iv, <a href="#Page_185">185</a>-<a href="#Page_187">187</a>.<br /> -Chorus, Greek, nature of, iv, <a href="#Page_315">315</a>-<a href="#Page_317">317</a>.<br /> -Cid, the Spanish poem of the,<br /> -<span style="margin-left: 1em;">description of, iv, <a href="#Page_182">182</a>;</span><br /> -<span style="margin-left: 1em;">heroic personality of the, ii, 348; iv, <a href="#Page_138">138</a>-<a href="#Page_140">140</a>;</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, 138; iii, 39, 41.</span><br /> -Cuvier, analytical power of, i, 176.<br /> -<br /> -Dante, conciseness of, i, 350; allegory in, ii, 19;<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, <a href="#Page_163">163</a>;</span><br /> -<span style="margin-left: 1em;">general description of "Divine Comedy," iv, <a href="#Page_184">184</a>.</span><br /> -Denner, realistic portraits of, iii, 270.<br /> -Destiny, supreme significance of in Epos, iv, <a href="#Page_144">144</a>;<br /> -<span style="margin-left: 1em;">fate in tragedy, iv, <a href="#Page_312">312</a>, <a href="#Page_322">322</a>; as necessity, iv, <a href="#Page_254">254</a>.</span><br /> -<span style="margin-left: 1em;">See also particularly as to Greek art, ii, 261-264.</span><br /> -Drapery. See under Sculpture.<br /> -Dutch School, description of, i, 228-230; ii, 382-386;<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, <a href="#Page_321">321</a>.</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, <a href="#Page_307">307</a>;</span><br /> -<span style="margin-left: 1em;">to "Faust," iv, <a href="#Page_333">333</a>; to his Tasso, iv, <a href="#Page_307">307</a>;</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, 270;</span><br /> -<span style="margin-left: 1em;">to the "Westöstlicher Divan," i, 372; ii, 96, 400; iv, <a href="#Page_233">233</a>;</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, 363; 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, 364;</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, <a href="#Page_338">338</a>;</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, 145; 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, <a href="#Page_205">205</a>;</span><br /> -<span style="margin-left: 1em;">prose in his dramas, iv, <a href="#Page_71">71</a>;</span><br /> -<span style="margin-left: 1em;">imitation of Icelandic, iv, <a href="#Page_208">208</a>;</span><br /> -<span style="margin-left: 1em;">as a Lyric poet generally, iv, <a href="#Page_217">217</a>.</span><br /> -Greek art, origin of in freedom, ii, 183;<br /> -<span style="margin-left: 1em;">content of, ii, 184-186;</span><br /> -<span style="margin-left: 1em;">Gods of, ii, 224-228; iii, 183-186, 188;</span><br /> -<span style="margin-left: 1em;">absence of the sublime in, ii, 237;</span><br /> -<span style="margin-left: 1em;">incapable of repetition, iii, 396;</span><br /> -<span style="margin-left: 1em;">Greek epigrams, ii, 398;</span><br /> -<span style="margin-left: 1em;">character of dramatis personae in Greek art, iv, <a href="#Page_317">317</a>-<a href="#Page_320">320</a>.</span><br /> -Greek chorus. See under Chorus.<br /> -Greek mysteries. See under Mysteries.<br /> -Greek oracles. See under Oracles,<br /> -Hafis, Lyrics of, iv, <a href="#Page_237">237</a>; quotation from, ii, 94, 95, 147.<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, 190, 231;<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, <a href="#Page_39">39</a>;</span><br /> -<span style="margin-left: 1em;">on battle of Thermopylae, iv, <a href="#Page_23">23</a>;</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, 63, 64, 167, 216;<br /> -<span style="margin-left: 1em;">reference to his "Works and Days," iv, <a href="#Page_108">108</a>.</span><br /> -Hindoos, architecture of, iii, 48-51; religion of, ii, 47-64.<br /> -Hippel, humour of his "Life's Careers," ii, 365.<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, <a href="#Page_30">30</a>, <a href="#Page_156">156</a>, <a href="#Page_167">167</a>; hero as focus of many traits, i, 316;</span><br /> -<span style="margin-left: 1em;">landscape in, i, 341; iv, <a href="#Page_123">123</a>, <a href="#Page_154">154</a>;</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, <a href="#Page_122">122</a>;</span><br /> -<span style="margin-left: 1em;">his use of simile, ii, 154;</span><br /> -<span style="margin-left: 1em;">quotations from the Iliad, ii, 154, 155;</span><br /> -<span style="margin-left: 1em;">sacrifices in the Iliad, ii, 192;</span><br /> -<span style="margin-left: 1em;">unity of Homeric god-world, ii, 219;</span><br /> -<span style="margin-left: 1em;">human motives defined through god's action, ii, 234, 235;</span><br /> -<span style="margin-left: 1em;">freedom of Greek gods in, ii, 239;</span><br /> -<span style="margin-left: 1em;">individuality of gods in, ii, 242-258;</span><br /> -<span style="margin-left: 1em;">poet later than the Trojan war, iv, <a href="#Page_124">124</a>.</span><br /> -Horace, Ars Poetica of, i, 19, 69;<br /> -<span style="margin-left: 1em;">artificial character of his Odes, iv, <a href="#Page_229">229</a>.</span><br /> -<br /> -Iffland, reference to, iv, <a href="#Page_290">290</a>, <a href="#Page_344">344</a>;<br /> -superficial quality of, ii, 381.<br /> -Immortality, contrast of conception in Pagan<br /> -<span style="margin-left: 1em;">and Christian thought, ii, 287-290.</span><br /> -Irony, the views of Schlegel,<br /> -<span style="margin-left: 1em;">Solger and Tieck on, i, 90-94; iv, <a href="#Page_271">271</a>.</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, <a href="#Page_150">150</a>-<a href="#Page_152">152</a>;<br /> -<span style="margin-left: 1em;">his personality, iv, <a href="#Page_216">216</a>, <a href="#Page_244">244</a>, <a href="#Page_245">245</a>;</span><br /> -<span style="margin-left: 1em;">partly artificial enthusiasm, iv, <a href="#Page_229">229</a>.</span><br /> -Kotzebue, popular effects of, i, 362;<br /> -<span style="margin-left: 1em;">superficial rapidity of, ii, 381;</span><br /> -<span style="margin-left: 1em;">bad composition of, iv, <a href="#Page_290">290</a>;</span><br /> -<span style="margin-left: 1em;">ethical baseness of, iv, <a href="#Page_304">304</a>.</span><br /> -<br /> -Landscape gardening, i, 332-333<br /> -Laocoon, statue group, iii, 191.<br /> -Lessing, his introduction of prose into drama, iv, <a href="#Page_71">71</a>;<br /> -<span style="margin-left: 1em;">didactic drama of, iv, <a href="#Page_277">277</a>.</span><br /> -Libretto, nature of good, iii, 355-357.<br /> -Light, the nature of as an element, ii, 225-226.<br /> -Longinus, his Essay on the Sublime, i, 19.<br /> -Lötze, See i, 82 n.<br /> -Luther. See ii, 13.<br /> -<br /> -Memnons, iii, 41-43.<br /> -Meredith, George, i, 36 n., 216 n.; ii, 339 n.; iv, <a href="#Page_347">347</a> 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, <a href="#Page_345">345</a>-<a href="#Page_347">347</a>.<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, <a href="#Page_291">291</a>.</span><br /> -Mysteries, Greek, ii, 221.<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, <a href="#Page_265">265</a>-<a href="#Page_267">267</a>.</span><br /> -<br /> -Oracles, Greek, ii, 205-208.<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, 151, 153;</span><br /> -authorship of, iv, 146, 180. See also iv, <a href="#Page_114">114</a>, <a href="#Page_127">127</a>.<br /> -Ovid, Metamorphoses of, ii, 126;<br /> -<span style="margin-left: 1em;">similes of, ii, 152, 198.</span><br /> -<br /> -Pathos, nature of, i, 308-325;<br /> -<span style="margin-left: 1em;">pathos of drama, iv, <a href="#Page_265">265</a>;</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, <a href="#Page_201">201</a>;</span><br /> -<span style="margin-left: 1em;">Pythian priestess on his merit, iv, <a href="#Page_216">216</a>;</span><br /> -<span style="margin-left: 1em;">enthusiasm of, iv, <a href="#Page_229">229</a>;</span><br /> -<span style="margin-left: 1em;">his creative gift, iv, <a href="#Page_241">241</a>.</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. 143.</span><br /> -Portraiture, in painting, iii, 307-311.<br /> -Praxiteles, iii, 190.<br /> -Prometheus, ii, 209-215.<br /> -Psalms, Hebrew, general character of, i, 378;<br /> -<span style="margin-left: 1em;">illustrate the sublime, ii, 102-104;</span><br /> -<span style="margin-left: 1em;">iv, <a href="#Page_226">226</a>-<a href="#Page_228">228</a>.</span><br /> -Pyramids, the, iii, 55.<br /> -<br /> -Racine, the "Esther" of, i, 361; his Phèdre, i, 321.<br /> -Ramajana, the, episodes from, ii, 51-53, 61.<br /> -<span style="margin-left: 1em;">See also iv, <a href="#Page_110">110</a>, <a href="#Page_112">112</a>, <a href="#Page_165">165</a>, <a href="#Page_175">175</a>.</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, 365;</span><br /> -<span style="margin-left: 1em;">humour of compared with Sterne's, ii, 387.</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, 277; iv, <a href="#Page_305">305</a>;<br /> -<span style="margin-left: 1em;">in Sallust and Tacitus, ii, 278;</span><br /> -<span style="margin-left: 1em;">not successful in modern times, ii, 279;</span><br /> -<span style="margin-left: 1em;">belongs to third type after tragic</span><br /> -<span style="margin-left: 1em;">and comic drama, iv, <a href="#Page_305">305</a>.</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, <a href="#Page_333">333</a>;</span><br /> -<span style="margin-left: 1em;">to Wallenstein," iv, <a href="#Page_288">288</a>;</span><br /> -<span style="margin-left: 1em;">to the "Maid of Orleans," i, 261; iv, <a href="#Page_291">291</a>, <a href="#Page_339">339</a>;</span><br /> -<span style="margin-left: 1em;">extreme scenic effect of the latter drama, iv, <a href="#Page_291">291</a>;</span><br /> -<span style="margin-left: 1em;">narrative too epical in same drama, iv, <a href="#Page_161">161</a>;</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, 144;</span><br /> -<span style="margin-left: 1em;">attitude to Christianity, ii, 268;</span><br /> -<span style="margin-left: 1em;">profundity of, iii, 414;</span><br /> -<span style="margin-left: 1em;">character of his songs, iv, <a href="#Page_207">207</a>, <a href="#Page_239">239</a>;</span><br /> -<span style="margin-left: 1em;">his criticism of Goethe's Iphigeneia, iv, <a href="#Page_275">275</a>;</span><br /> -<span style="margin-left: 1em;">leaves much to actor, iv, <a href="#Page_288">288</a>.</span><br /> -Schlegel, F. von, Aesthetic theory of, i, 87-89;<br /> -<span style="margin-left: 1em;">art as allegory, ii, 134; 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, 366;</span><br /> -<span style="margin-left: 1em;">to "Macbeth," iv, <a href="#Page_337">337</a>, <a href="#Page_341">341</a>; to "Hamlet," ii, 378; iv, <a href="#Page_334">334</a>, <a href="#Page_342">342</a>;</span><br /> -<span style="margin-left: 1em;">to "Othello," iv, <a href="#Page_337">337</a>; to "Falstaff," ii, 375;</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, <a href="#Page_342">342</a>; to "Richard III," iv, <a href="#Page_341">341</a>;</span><br /> -<span style="margin-left: 1em;">the clowns of, i, 320; the fool in "King Lear," ii, 375;</span><br /> -<span style="margin-left: 1em;">quotations from "Richard II," ii, 141, 159;</span><br /> -<span style="margin-left: 1em;">from "Romeo and Juliet," ii, 153; from "Henry IV," ii, 158;</span><br /> -<span style="margin-left: 1em;">from "Henry VIII," ii, 159, 160; from "Julius Caesar," ii, 260;</span><br /> -<span style="margin-left: 1em;">from "Macbeth," ii, 160; from "Anthony and Cleopatra," ii, 161;</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, 144, 156;</span><br /> -<span style="margin-left: 1em;">the fidelity of Kent in "King Lear," ii, 346;</span><br /> -<span style="margin-left: 1em;">self-consistency of characters, ii, 356-358; iv, <a href="#Page_340">340</a>;</span><br /> -<span style="margin-left: 1em;">intelligence of vulgar characters, ii, 366, 375;</span><br /> -<span style="margin-left: 1em;">subsidiary interest of part of material in dramas, iv, <a href="#Page_260">260</a>;</span><br /> -<span style="margin-left: 1em;">vitality of characterization, iv, <a href="#Page_274">274</a>,</span><br /> -<span style="margin-left: 1em;">and in particular, iv, <a href="#Page_337">337</a>; superiority</span><br /> -<span style="margin-left: 1em;">in modern comedy, iv, <a href="#Page_348">348</a>.</span><br /> -Sophocles, reference to the "Philoctetes," i, 275, 301; iv, <a href="#Page_306">306</a>;<br /> -<span style="margin-left: 1em;">to "Œdipus Rex," i, 276; iv, <a href="#Page_319">319</a>;</span><br /> -<span style="margin-left: 1em;">to the "Antigone," i, 293; ii, 215; iv, <a href="#Page_318">318</a>;</span><br /> -<span style="margin-left: 1em;">to "Œdipus Coloneus," ii, 503; iv, <a href="#Page_319">319</a>;</span><br /> -<span style="margin-left: 1em;">to the "Electra," iv, <a href="#Page_318">318</a>; the choruses of, i, 371;</span><br /> -<span style="margin-left: 1em;">no unity of place in the "Ajax," iv, <a href="#Page_257">257</a>;</span><br /> -<span style="margin-left: 1em;">quotation from "Œdipus Coloneus," ii, 222;</span><br /> -<span style="margin-left: 1em;">treatment of love in the "Antigone," ii, 339;</span><br /> -<span style="margin-left: 1em;">praise of the "Antigone" as work of art, iv, <a href="#Page_324">324</a>;</span><br /> -<span style="margin-left: 1em;">the "Œdipus Coloneus" as a drama of reconciliation, iv, <a href="#Page_325">325</a>.</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, 400;</span><br /> -<span style="margin-left: 1em;">educated style of Roman poetry, iii, 11.</span><br /> -<br /> -Tasso, his "Jerusalem Liberated," iv, <a href="#Page_141">141</a>.<br /> -<span style="margin-left: 1em;">See also iv, <a href="#Page_132">132</a>, <a href="#Page_149">149</a>, <a href="#Page_159">159</a>, <a href="#Page_189">189</a>,</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, 167; 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, <a href="#Page_69">69</a>;<br /> -<span style="margin-left: 1em;">eclogues of compared with idylls of Theocritus, iv, <a href="#Page_170">170</a>.</span><br /> -<span style="margin-left: 1em;">The "Æneid" as a national Epos, iv, <a href="#Page_179">179</a>.</span><br /> -Versification, rhythmical of ancients discussed, iv, <a href="#Page_81">81</a>-<a href="#Page_84">84</a>.<br /> -<span style="margin-left: 1em;">That of rhyme compared, iv, <a href="#Page_84">84</a>-<a href="#Page_98">98</a>.</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, 59.</span><br /> -Voltaire, contrasted with Shakespeare, i, 313;<br /> -<span style="margin-left: 1em;">his "Henriad," iv, <a href="#Page_132">132</a>; his "Tancred" and "Mahomet," iv, <a href="#Page_290">290</a>.</span><br /> -Watts, George, R.A., flesh colour of, i, 337 n.;<br /> -<span style="margin-left: 1em;">relation to symbolism, ii, 27 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, 37-44; cultus of, ii, 44.<br /> -</p> - - - - - - - - - -<pre> - - - - - -End of the Project Gutenberg EBook of The Philosophy of Fine Art, volume 4 -(of 4), by G. 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