Chapter 6

[67]Des An-und-für-sich-seyenden, i.e., the explicit content of all that is implied in actuality cognized as an object in itself.

[68]According to Hegel the conception of Kant is right in that (a) He makes the Sublime to consist in a relation between the phenomenal fact and something which it is not; and (b) that he lays it down that no mere representation by means of phenomenal form can adequately express it. He is wrong, however, in that he refers the Sublime for its source wholly to the subjective content,i.e., that Nature which is peculiar to ourselves (in uns.)

[69]"Critique of the Judgment," 3rd ed., p. 77.

[70]Parrhesia,i.e., πἀρρἥσια,—speaking freely or beyond ordinary bound.

[71]Den Schenkenshould bedie Schenken, and a few lines belowder Kerzeshould bedie Kerze.I omit theSchenkenaltogether. Of course it is possibleder Kerzeis Genitive, "in the woe of the taper," and the verb intransitive; but this is very harsh.

[72]This appears to be the meaning ofGarechtigkeit.

[73]Sondern so darüber hinausgeht, dass eben nichts als dieses Hinauseyn und Hinausgehen zur Darstellung kommen kann.That is, the art of the Sublime is based essentially on a contradiction, for while it assumes the One substance to be the significance of the external world, it is the truth of that significance that it points to that which transcends externality.

[74]The thought here is not strictly logical. What is associated by symbolism with Unity is the external Other, what is divided by Hebraic conception is the entire content of the Real both in its spiritual and external aspect. But the general sense is sufficiently clear.

[75]This I take to be the point of the contrast between the wordsscheinenanderscheinen.

The result we have now arrived at in the above consideration of the Sublime, and in contradistinction to the strictly unpremeditated type of symbolization, consists partly in theseparationof its own independent Inwardness, consciously apprehended in its quality of significance, from the concrete appearance that is thereby distinguished from it, partly also in the direct or indirect affirmation of theincompatibilityof the two above mentioned aspects to one another, by which it appears that the significance as the universal passes beyond the particular fact and its singularity. But in the imagination of pantheism, no less than in the type of the Sublime, the real content, that is the One universal substance of all concrete existence, was unable to be presented to imaginative vision or sense-perception without some relation to created existence, albeit created under a mode inadequate to express the essence of that Unity. This relation, however, was attached to the substance itself, which, in the negativity of its accidents, supplied the proof of its Wisdom, Goodness, Power, and Justice[76]. For this reason the relation between significance and content is also in the case of the Sublime, at least in a general way, of a kind that is bothessentialandnecessary, and the two sides thus linked with each other are not yet, in the strict sense of the term, external to each other. It is, however, inevitable, for the reason that it is implicitly present in symbolism, that this externality should come to be directly posited andappear in the forms we have now to consider in this concluding chapter on the art of symbolism. We may summarily describe them asconscious[77]symbolism, or, in a still more direct way, thecomparativetype of art.

In other words, what we understand by conscious symbolism is this, that the significance is not merely independently cognized, but isexpresslyset forth as distinct from the external mode, in which it is represented. The significance then appears, as in the case of the Sublime, to receive an independent expression which is not essentially in the actual embodiment given to it under the mode employed[78]. The relation, however, of both to one another no longer continues to be, as in the type last examined, a mode of relation which is fundamentally due to the significance itself, but is a more or less haphazard association, which may generally be expressed as the product of thesubjectivityof the poet, the absorption of his spirit in an external object, the result of his wit or invention; a mode, in short, which enables the poet at one time rather to make a beginning directly from a sensible phenomenon, and to imagine for it from his own mind a spiritual significance cognate with it, and at another to select in preference as his point of departure the real or only relatively personal idea, with a view to embodying the same, or even to do nothing more than relate one image with another, which presents characteristic features of resemblance.

This kind of linking together must consequently be distinguished from that still naïve andunconscioussymbolism in virtue of the fact that now the individual recognizes the inward essence of the significances he adopts for the content of his creation no less than, the positive nature of the external objects, which he employs as means of comparison for the more direct presentment of the same, placing both in this juxtaposition with clear intention owing to the similarity he has discovered between them. The distinction, on the other hand, between the present type andthat of the Sublime is rather to be traced to the fact that though under one aspect it may be true that the separation and juxtaposition of the significances with their concrete shaping in the work of art is itself set forth in express relief to a less or higher degree, yet, on the other hand, for the reason that it is no longer the Absolute itself that is accepted as content, but any defined and restricted significance whatever, the typical relation of the Sublime falls away, and in its place a relation is set up within the act of severance thus intentionally made between the real significance and its embodiment, a relation which in effect produces the very result in the sphere of premeditated comparison that we found unconscious symbolism in its own way proposed as an object.

In one word, so far ascontentis here concerned, the Absolute itself,the Lord of creation, can no longer be conceived as the significance which Art seeks after. That this is so is rendered inevitable by the already obvious fact that on account of the severation of more concrete existence from the notion, and further, if only under the mode of comparison, the juxtaposition of both sides thus separated, the category offinitudeis there and then accepted by the artistic consciousness, in so far as it conceives this form as the real and ultimate one; and for this reason, moreover, the imagined significances, being selected wholly from the sphere of the finite, have no further association whatever with the Absolute as the fundamental significance of all created things. Sacred poetry stands out in entire contrast to this, for in this God is the exclusive significance of all things; as set over against Him, they have no stability at all, but vanish or are nothing. If, however, the significance is able to discover its image and parallel of resemblance in that which is itself essentiallyrestrictedand finite, it follows that it must itself to that extent be limited in its range, as, in fact, it is in the type of symbolic conception which now occupies our attention, where that which is found is nothing more than an image, necessarily external to the content, selected purely at random by the poet for the sake of thesimilarityit presents to the content, and as such regarded as relatively adequate thereto. For this reason there is but one trait left us in the comparative type of art, which isalso shared by that of the Sublime, and it is this that every image, instead of embodying the fact and significance directly under a mode adequate to their full reality, is only taken to present an image and similitude of either.

For these reasons this kind of symbolization is, if we conceive it apart as an independent whole, a generic class of subordinate rank. The form which it supplies is merely the descriptive selection of a portion of sensuous existence immediately perceived, or of a prosaic idea of the mind[79], in other words, the significance is expressly to be distinguished from it. And, further, in a measure such an employment of comparison in works of art, which are shaped out of homogeneous material, and in their specific form constitute an indivisible whole, can only assert itself as relatively valid, that is, as mere ornament and accessory, such as we find it, in fact, in the genuine products of classic and romantic art.

It is a further consequence that if we regard the entire sphere of this type as the union of the two stages which preceded it on the ground that it not merely comprehends within itself theseparationof significance from external reality, which is the fundamentalcausa rationisof the Sublime, but also includes thereferenceof a concrete phenomenon to a universal import cognate with it, as we have seen was asserted in the real type of symbolism, such a union is notwithstanding in no way a higher type of art; it is, in truth, despite its very clearness, a superficial way of apprehending things, limited in its content and formally more or less prosaic, which falls away into the consciousness of commonsense as fully remote from the secretly fermenting depth of genuine symbolism as it is from the height of the Sublime.

So far as theclassificationof our present subject-matter is concerned we may observe, first, that in this act of comparative differentiation, which presupposes the significance independently, and affirms either a sensuous or imaginary form in a relation of opposition to it, there is the aspect held constantly throughout that the significance is here accepted as of most importance, and the form is solely the embodiment of the same and external to it; but along with this the further difference makes its appearance, namely,that it is sometimes the one aspect of this opposition which is first pre-eminently emphasized, and made the significant point of departure, while at other times it is the other. And owing to this fact we have either the embodiment presented us as an independently external, immediate fact or phenomenon of Nature, which is then related by comparison to a significance of a more general bearing, or the significance is independently come by in another way, and only afterwards a mode of embodying it is selected from some external source, it matters not what.

Relatively to the above distinctions we may classify our material under the two first fundamental and a third and other supplementary divisions as follows:

A. In thefirstit is theconcrete phenomenon, whether the selection be made from Nature or human events, incidents, and actions, which constitutes both the point of departure in the process of artistic conception, and the substance of essential weight in the reproduction. It is no doubt exhibited solely on account of the more general significance, which it contains and signifies, and is only so far unfolded, that it may contribute to the object of embodying this significance in a specific occurrence or condition cognate with it. The comparison, however, of the general significance and the particular case is not as yetexpresslyset forth assubjectiveactivity, and the entire reproduction will not merely be the embellishment of a work which actually possesses a substantive position without it, but is set forth as itself claiming to give the character of an independent whole. The types of this class are the fable, the parable, the apologue, the proverb, and the metamorphosis.

B. In thesecondphase thesignificanceon the contrary is that which is first presented to consciousness, and the concrete embodiment is that which is merely incidental or accessory to it, possessing no independent subsistency of its own, but appearing as wholly subordinate to the significance, so that we are now also made more immediately aware of the element of personal caprice in the selection of this rather than any other image. This mode of production is unable in the great majority of cases to reach the point of a fully perfected work of art, and is consequently forced to leave the forms it supplies as appurtenant to otherartistic images. The important types of this class are the riddle, the allegory, the metaphor, the image, and the simile.

C.Thirdly, and in conclusion, if rather by way of supplement, we have yet further to include within our list the didactic poem, and purely descriptive poetry, inasmuch as in these types of poetry we find, on the one hand, that the presentment of the general character of the objects in the clearness under which they are made intelligible to commonsense[80], no less than on the other that the exhibition of their concrete appearance receives a substantially independent form, and by doing so effects with elaborate completeness the severation of that which only in its union and really reciprocal fusion is capable of giving us a genuine work of art.

This separation of the two phases essential to the process of art-production carries with it the result that the various forms which find their place in the entire subject-matter under discussion have merely a claim to fall in as part of an inquiry into the modes of art in virtue of the fact that poetry, and only poetry, is in a position to express such a relation of self-contained independence as between significance and form. As opposed to this it is the very problem of the plastic arts to manifest such significant content in and through their external form and viewed thus externally.

The attempt to arrange the several kinds of poetic production which are apportioned to this first stage of the comparative type of art carries with it no little difficulty, and is a fruitful source of embarrassment. They are, that is to say, hybrid species of a subordinate rank, which in no way whatever mark out any necessary aspect of art They stand in the domain of Aesthetic presenting features analogous to certain animal types, and other exceptional phenomena in natural science. In both spheres the difficulty consists in this that in either case it is the notion of the science itself,which is the ground of its classification and specific differences. As differentia of the notion these are also at the same time distinctions really adequate to the notional process, and intelligible as such; with these latter such transitional modes are unable fully to conform for the reason that they are merely defective types, which proceed from a previous phase that is fundamental without being able to reach the next one. This is no fault of the notion, nay, supposing that we preferred to make such ancillary types the basis of our classification, instead of pointing out their relation to the specific phases of thenotionalprocess of our subject-matter, we should have presented us precisely that aspect of them which was inadequate to this process as the irreproachable mode of their development. A true principle of classification, on the contrary, is compelled to proceed from the true notion, and suchhybridtypes as those now discussed can only be suitably placed where the genuine and independently stable ones show a tendency to dissolve and pass over into others.

Apart from such considerations, however, the artistic types referred to belong to theforecourtof artistic symbolism, inasmuch as they are generally incomplete, and to that extentmerelya search after art in its truth. Such a movement no doubt presents the essential ingredients of a genuine mode of configuration, but it lays hold of them in their aspect of finitude, separation, and purely relative propinquity; it fails consequently to rank on the same level. When we discuss, therefore, the fable, apologue, and the rest we must treat these forms not as though they belonged topoetryin the specific sense, as it differs among other things from music no less than the plastic arts, but only with the view of pointing out the relation in which they stand to thegenerictypes of art. It is only thus their specific character can be elucidated. To such an object the notion of the genuine types of the art of poetry, whether epic, lyric, or dramatic, will not assist us.

We propose now to differentiate these forms in the following order; we shall begin with thefable, proceed after that to discuss theparable,apologue, andproverb, and conclude our inquiry with themetamorphosis.

1. THE FABLE

Hitherto we have throughout merely dwelt upon the formal aspect of the relation of an expressed significance to its embodiment; we have now furthermore to elucidate the content, which declares its suitability for such a mode.

In our previous consideration of the various aspects of theSublimewe saw that at the point where we have now arrived, it is no longer a matter of any importance to envisualize the Absolute and One in its indivisible Power by means of the nothingness and impotency of the created thing to rise up to that infinite transcendency. We are now on the plane of the finite consciousness, and have only to concern ourselves with a finite content. If we direct our attention conversely to the genuine symbolical type, to which the comparative is under a certain aspect equally related, we find that here thatinwardaspect, which stands in opposition to the form up to this point always immediately presented, the natural shape, that is to say, is the spiritual, a truth that even in Egyptian symbolism received ample illustration. To the extent, however, that everything natural is left standing, and preconceived in its position of isolatedsolidarity, the spiritual is also something bothfiniteanddefined, that is to say man and his finite aims and the natural maintains a certain, albeit theoretical[81], relationship to these objects, a significant suggestion and revelation of the same to the use and weal of mankind. The phenomena of Nature, storms, flight of birds, the constitution of the intestines of animals and so forth, in the significance they possess for human interests, are now accepted in a totally different sense to that they figured in the conceptions of Parsees, Hindoos, or Egyptians, for whom the Divine is still linked to the Natural under the mode that man, as an integral part of Nature, moves to and fro in a world full of gods, and his personal action consists in the display through his activities of this very identity of Life, whereby this doing of his, in so far as it is compatible with the natural existence of the Divine, appears itself as a revelation and bringing forth of the Divine in mankind. When, however, man iswithdrawn into himself, and intuitively seeks for his freedom within the closed doors of his own substance[82], he becomes intrinsically the object of his own personality; he acts, transacts his affairs, and works as he himself wills; he possesses a personal life of his own, and feels the essential character of his aims as part of himself, to which the natural is only related as something outside him. Consequently Nature becomes insulated around him, serves him under such an aspect that in his attitude to the Divine he no longer secures an envisagement of the Absolute in her, but simply regards her as a means, through which the gods enable him to discover such a knowledge of themselves as may contribute most to his advantage, unveiling their will to the human spirit through the medium of Nature and suffering the purpose thereof to declare itself through mankind. An identity of the Absolute and Nature is here presupposed, an identity in whichhuman aimsare pre-eminently emphasized. A type of symbolism such as this, however, is not within the province of art, but that of religion. That is to say, thevatesor prophet subordinates every significant relation of natural events, pre-eminently to the service of practical ends, whether it be in the interest of the particular designs of individuals, or in that of the common action of an entire people. Poetry, on the contrary, is bound to recognize and express even the practical situations and relations in a more universal form adapted to contemplation.

What we have, however, to deal with now is a natural phenomenon, an occurrence, which, in its passage, exhibits a particular relation, which maybe accepted as symbol for a general significance in the circle of human deeds and dealings, in other words for an ethical maxim, a saw, for a significance, therefore, whose content unfolds a reflection over the nature of the course which either is taken or ought to be taken in human matters, that is, facts which are related to volition. Here it is no longer the Divine will, which is self-revealed in its essential nature to mankind through natural events, and their religious import. We have nothing more than a quite ordinary course of everyday occurrences, from the isolated reproduction of which we are able to abstract in away commonly intelligible an ethicaldictum, a warning, ensample, or rule of prudence, by whatever name we choose to call it, which is set before us in a form that appeals to our imagination for the sake of the reflection it carries with it. And this is just the way in which we ought to regard the fables of Aesop.

(a) In other words, the fables of Aesop in their original form are just such a mode of conceiving a natural relation or event between single natural objects generally, mainly between animals, whose intercourse with one another is based on the same practical necessities of life that are the motive force in that of humanity. This relation or occurrence, as viewed in its more general characters, is consequently of a kind that may happen in the sphere of human life, and as such carries with it a significance for man.

As thus explained the genuine fable of Aesop is therefore the reproduction of a condition of animate or inanimate life, of some occurrence in the animal world for example, which is not by any means composed at haphazard, but is put together in conformity with natural fact and genuine observation, and so reproduced in the form of narrative that, in its relation to human existence, and particularly the practical aspect of the same, a general maxim may be deduced from it. The requirement ofprimaryimportance that it implies, therefore, is that the particular case in question, which is to supply the so-called moral, must not be purelyimaginary, that is to say, first and foremost the substance of the composition must not present facts which runcounterto the mode of their appearance in real life. The narrative may be further and yet more clearly characterized in this that it does not record the particular case itself in its universality, but rather the mode under which this, taken in its concrete singularity and as a real fact, is in such external reality the type for all action based upon analogous circumstances.

This original form of the fable leaves upon it, and this is thethirdpoint to which we direct attention, the impress of mostnaïveté, because in it the didactic aim and the deduction of general significances of utilitarian colour do not appear to be that which was the original intention of the narrator, but rather something which turned up afterwards.For this reason the most attractive among the so-called fables of Aesop will be those which correspond most emphatically with this naïve tone and narrate actions, if such an expression may here be used, or at least relations and events, which in part are founded upon animal instinct, partly are the expression of some other natural relation and partly are generally put together for their own sake rather than exclusively composed as the fancy of the moment happened to dictate. For this reason it is further sufficiently obvious that the mottofabula docet, which has attached itself to these fables as we now have them presented us, either takes the true spirit out of them, or frequently is something like a fist in our eyes[83], so that quite as often as not we are inclined to deduce the intended maxim's opposite, or one or two as good if not better.

In further elucidation of this conception of these Greek fables we propose now to offer a few illustrations. The oak and the reed stand in the teeth of the storm-wind. The slender reed merely bows before it, the stubborn oak snaps. This is a frequent enough occurrence in a great storm. In its ethical suggestion what we have here is some man of high position and inflexible temper as opposed to one of more modest station who, through his natural pliancy, is able in misfortune to keep himself secure on such ordinary levels, while the great man goes to ground through his pride and obstinacy. An analogous case is the fable of the swallows which we find in the Phaedrus. The swallows and other birds with them see a rustic sowing the flax seed, from the growth of which the bird-snare is to be made. The provident swallows fly away, the other birds think nothing of the morrow; they abide at home and are caught. A real phenomenon of Nature is also at the bottom of this fable. It is a notorious fact that in autumn swallows are off to southerly climes, and consequently are absent when birds are snared. The same thing may be said of the fable about the bat, which is despised by day and night, because it belongs to neither the one nor the other. A more general human significance is attributed to real prosaic incidents of this class, much as pious people are only too ready nowadays to interpreteverything that occurs in a sense that is edifying or useful. It is, however, not essential to such a purpose that in every case the true fact of Nature should appear at once as obvious. In the fable, for instance, of the fox and the raven we are unable at first blush to recognize the natural fact, although it is not wholly absent. It is, in truth, a genuine characteristic both of ravens and crows that they set about cawing when they happen to catch sight of strange objects, whatever they may be, whether man or beast, in sudden motion. Natural relations of a similar kind lie at the root of the fable of the thorn-bush, which plucks the wool off the passer-by, or wounds the fox that seeks refuge there, or that of the countryman who warms a snake in his bosom. Others set forth occurrences which may naturally form part of animal experience; take, for instance, the first example of the fables of Aesop where the eagle devours the cubs of the fox and carries off a hot coal attached to the sacrificial flesh which sets his nest on fire. And, in conclusion, we find that others contain traits of old myths, such as the fable of the dung-beetle, eagle, and Jupiter, where the circumstance borrowed from natural history—we will pass it by for what it is worth—appears to be referable to the different seasons of the year when the eagle and dung-beetle respectively lay their eggs; at the same time we may observe a clear intimation here of the traditional importance of the scarab, which, however, even in our present example, is already treated with an inclination toward comedy, an inclination still more pronounced in Aristophanes. As an excuse for not entering more fully here into the question how many of these fables can actually be traced to Aesop we mention the already well-established fact that only of quite a small minority—the last-cited one of dung-beetle and the eagle is among them—can it be shown that they date from Aesop's time, or that in general terms there is any flavour of antiquity about them to support the view that Aesop is in fact their author.

Of Aesop himself we are informed that he was a deformed and humpbacked slave; and for his place of residence we are transported into Phrygia, the very land, that is, which marks the passage from the immediately symbolical and the existence still fettered on Nature, to a land in which manbegins to take real hold of the spiritual and himself as the source of the same. In our present connection, no doubt, he does not behold the animal and natural world in the way the Hindoos and Egyptians beheld it, that is, as something of itself, superior and Divine. He regards it with prosaic vision as something whose relations are only of service in the presentment of a picture of human act and avoidance. His conceits are further merely the reflections of wit, without real energy of soul or depth of insight and a fundamental grasp of reality, without poetry and philosophy, in fact. His opinions and maxims are, in consequence, fairly rich in sensuous image and traits of cleverness, but we never get beyond the digging away into mere trifles, which, instead of creating free shapes from the unfettered life of spirit, is contented to discover some additional aspect that is new in material already close at hand, such as the specific instincts and habits of animals or other daily occurrences of little moment; and this is so because that which he would teach he is still afraid to express freely, and is only able to make it intelligible in a kind of riddle which is at the same time always being solved. Prose has its origin in the slave, and in the same way prose clings to the entire type of conception with which we are now concerned.

Despite this fact, however, the experience of almost all nations and times has in one form or another run through these old tales; and however much any particular people whose literature is generally well versed in fable may pride itself as possessing more than one fabulist of distinction, we shall find that their poetry is for the most part merely a reflection of these primary sallies of invention, merely translated into the vernacular of the age. All that has since been added to the general heritage of such conceits falls far behind the original legacy in real merit.

(b) There are, however, among these fables of Greek descent a number which betray the greatest poverty of invention and execution, being mere pegs on which to hang the instructive moral, so that the contents, whether they refer to gods or animals, have merely a formal significance. Yet even these are far enough removed from the modern tendency of doing violence to the animal world as we findit in Nature. An example of this tendency is that fable of Pfeffel about a marmot which collected provisions in autumn, an act of foresight which another marmot neglected, and so was brought to the condition of beggary and starvation. Or there is that other of the fox, the bloodhound, and the lynx, of whom it is narrated that they presented themselves before Jupiter, together with the talents which exclusively belonged to them of cunning, keen scent, and clear sight, and requested that these gifts should be equally divided between them; the fable goes on that they obtained such consent under these rather surprising terms: "The fox gets a blow on the forehead, the bloodhound is good for no more hunting, the Argus Lynx receives a cataract." That a marmot should cease to make provision for its wants, or that the three animals above mentioned should ever incidentally meet with, or be naturally capable of receiving, a proportionate division of their respective gifts is contrary to all reason and consequently meaningless. A better fable than those above cited is that of the ant and the grasshopper, or that other of the deer with the beautiful horns and the slender legs.

Conformably to the tenor of fables of this kind we have grown, as a rule, accustomed to accept the moral of the fable as that which is of first importance, and to regard the narrative asmerelyan external form, and consequently an event entirelycomposedwith a view to expound that moral. Embodiments of this sort, however, more particularly when the occurrence described is wholly at variance with the natural character of specific animals, are in the highest degree insipid, attempts at invention which mean less than nothing. The real ingenuity of a fable consists exclusively in this that it is able to impart to that which already exists in determinate form a further and more universal significance than that which is immediately presented.

The question has further been raised, in reference to the general assumption that the essence of a fable consists in setting before us the actions and speech of animals rather than those of mankind, as to what it is precisely which attracts us in this allusion. We cannot suppose, however, that there is after all much that is attractive in such a furbishing up of our humanity in animal form, even thoughit should exceed or at least differ from that of a comedy of apes and dogs, where, apart from the sight of the general cleverness of the dressing up, the entire interest consists rather in the deliberate contrast between animal nature as it really is and appears, and that represented as taking part in human affairs. On grounds of this sort Breitinger finds the attraction to consist entirely in the element of themarvellous.In the original type of the fable, however, the appearance of animals endowed with speech isnotput before us as anything uncommon or surprising. And for this very reason Lessing is of the opinion that the introduction of animals is really of great use in helping us to understand andassistingthe poet toabridgehis exposition; in other words we are well acquainted with the qualities of animals, the cuteness of the fox, the magnanimity of the lion, the voracity and violence of the wolf, and are consequently able to set before our minds a concrete image in place of such abstract qualities. An advantage of this kind, however, in no essential degree mitigates the triviality of the relation when it has become one purely of form, and generally it is even a disadvantage to place animals thus before us instead of men, for the reason that the animal form remains a mask, which, so far as intelligibility is concerned,veilsfully as much as itdeclaresthe significance.

The most important fable of this kind should be in that case the old history of Reinecke, the fox, which is notwithstanding strictly speaking no fable at all.

(c) In other words we may in conclusion add athirdtype of the fable, in which we find that there is already a tendency to pass beyond the real boundaries of the type. The ingenuity of a fable consists, as already pointed out, in the discovery of particular cases among the variety of natural phenomena, which we are able to use as evidential support of general reflections upon human action and behaviour, without essentially displacing the animal and natural world from its own native mode of existence. For the rest this general application or adaptation of the particular case to the so-called moral is an exercise of personal caprice, or shall we say native wit, and is therefore to all intents and purposes an affair of pleasantry. It is this aspect which receives the main emphasis in the type of fable now beforeus. The fable is in fact accepted as a witty jest. Goethe has written many a delightful and ingenious poem in this vein. The following lines occur in one of them, which is entitled "The Barking Dog":

Down every road afield we rideOn business bent or pleasure;And ever in our wake full-cryA hound's bark beats the measure.Loosed from our horse's stable heWillalways gallop beside us:And this is what his clamour proves!We ride, are with the riders.

It is equally necessary here, as in the case of Aesop's fables, that objects which are borrowed from Nature should receive their native aspect, and only bring before us in their action and habits human circumstances, passions, and traits, which have a close affinity to those of the animal world. The story of Reinecke is one of this kind, and is really more a fairy-tale than a fable in the strict sense. We find in the content of this the reflection of an age of disorder and lawlessness, of evil generally, weakness, baseness, violence, and shamelessness, of unbelief in religion, that merely retains the appearance of a mastery, or indeed an established position in the world-drama; and the result is that craft, cunning, and selfishness have it all their own way. It is, in fact, the condition of the Middle Ages, more especially as developed in Germany. The powerful vassals pay, it is true, some appearance of respect to the king; but practically every man does as he pleases—robs, murders, oppresses the weak, betrays the king, finds a way somehow to the favours of the queen, so that if the community just holds together that is about all. Such is the human content, which by this fable is preserved, not in a mere abstract proposition but in an entirecomplexusof conditions and characters, and by reason of its baseness fits in with the animal nature exactly, under the forms of which it is unfolded. For this reason we find nothing embarrassing in the fact that it is without any reserves transferred to the animal realm; and for the same reason the particular form it takes does not so much appear as an exceptional case cognate with it; ratherwe are inclined to feel the singularity of it make way for a certain breadth of universality, a vision emphasizing the general truth: "Such is the way things happen in the world." The comical side consists in the forms under which the whole is put together, drollery and jest being freely mingled with the bitter earnestness of the situation; the general effect of which is that we not only have human meanness admirably depicted through that of animals, but we are further made a present of the most entertaining traits, and most characteristic anecdotes wholly peculiar to animal life, so that, despite all tartness to the palate, our final view is that of a comedy whose main intention is neither bad nor purely capricious, but one that has genuine earnestness to support it.

2. PARABLE, PROVERB, APOLOGUE

(a)The Parable

Parablehas this general affinity withfable, that it accepts events from the circle of common life, but also makes them the depositors of a higher and more universal significance, expressly with a view that the same shall become intelligible and objective by means of that daily occurrence in its ordinary guise. A difference, however, at once asserts itself between the parable and fable, and it is this, that the former selects such occurrences inhumanaction and habits, as we have them every day before our eyes, rather than in Nature and the animal world; it then expands the particular case selected, which appears trite enough at first as such a particular, to the range of wider interest, by suggesting through it a higher kind of significance.

For this reason the range and the importance of the significances in wealth ofcontentcan materially be increased and deepened[84], while, if we take the point of view of form, it is clear that the subjective process of intentional comparison and setting out of a generally instructive reflection already marks the acceptance and appearance of a more advanced type.

As a parable, still united to a wholly practical end, we may view the means of persuasion used by Cyrus to induce the Persians to rebel (Herod., I, cap. 126). His letter to the Persians advised them to betake themselves to a certain spot provided with sickles. When there he set them all on the first day to clear with hard labour a certain field overgrown with thistles. On the following day, however, after they had rested and bathed, he conducted them to a meadow and supplied them with ample cheer in the shape of food and wine. Finally, at the close of the feast, he asked of them which of the two days had proved the most enjoyable. All voted naturally for to-day rather than yesterday; the former had brought them only good things, while the latter had been a day of weariness and toil. On this Cyrus exclaimed: "Follow me, and many will be the good days such as the present has brought you. Refuse to follow me, and countless labours are in store quite a match for those of yesterday." Of a type akin to the above, though of profoundest interest and the widest range considered relatively to their significance, are the parables we meet with in the Gospels. Take, for example, that of the sower, a narrative which as such possesses the most unimportant subject-matter, and whose significance centres throughout in the comparison it supplies to the preaching of the kingdom of heaven. The significance in these parables is wholly a religious gospel, to which the human occurrences, wherein such is imaginatively presented, stand in a relation similar to that between the animal and human world in the fables of Aesop, where the former elicits the meaning of the latter. Of a like breadth of content is the famous story of Boccaccio, which Lessing converted in his "Natham" into the parable of the three rings. The substance of the narrative is also in this case taken by itself nothing remarkable; the extraordinarily wide, reach of its content arises wholly from the way the differences between and the relative validity of the three religions, namely, the Jewish, the Mohammedan, and the Christian, are suggested by it. The same thing may be said of the latest novelties in this type of art, the parables of Goethe for example. Take that of the "cat-pasty." In this a famouschef, in order to prove himself hunter no less than cook, went out hunting, but shot a tom-cat instead ofa hare, which he then served up to the company sauced with his most consummate art. This is no doubt a reference to the Light theory of Newton. We have here under the guise of the hare-pie which the cook tried in vain to elaborate out of a cat a reflection of that abortive type of physical science which the mathematician will assume to be something better than it is. These parables of Goethe frequently have a strong touch of drollery about them, an aspect which they share with his fables by the help of which he was wont to shed himself of life's disappointments.

(b)The Proverb

Theproverbforms as it were the middle point of this sphere. In the form of their execution, that is to say, proverbs lean at one time in the direction of the fable, at another to that of the apologue. They give us a particular case selected for the most part from the daily walk of mankind, which, however, is to be interpreted universally. Take the example, "One hand washes the other," or those others, "Every one wheels before his own door," "Who digs a grave for another, falls into it himself," "Bake a pudding for me and I will staunch your thirst," and others like them. To wise saws of this type belong the many apophthegems that Goethe has contributed to modern literature, often of exquisite grace and profound to a degree. These are not modes of comparison of the type that the general significance and the concrete phenomenon are opposed to one another in separation, but the former is immediately expressed with the latter.

(c)The Apologue

Theapologuemay be regarded as a parable, which not only serves in the way ofcomparisonto render visible a general significance, but rather in this its very form reproduces and expresses the general moral, the same being actually included in the particular case, which is, however, related as only a single example. Conformably to this definition we may call Goethe's "Der Gott und die Bajadere" anapologue. Here we find the Christian tale of the repentant Magdalene reclothed in accordance with Hindoo ideas. The Bajadere[85]exemplifies the same humility, a like strength of love and faith; God puts her to the proof, an ordeal she completely sustains, and her exaltation and reconciliation follows. In the apologue also narrative is so extended that the outcome of it furnishes the moral itself, bare of any parallel to support it, as may be illustrated from "The Treasure-Finder":

Work by day and guests at night,Weeks of moil, feasts of delight,Such the Future's spell for thee.

3. THE METAMORPHOSIS[86]

Thethirdmode we have to discuss in its contrast to the fable, parable, proverb, and apologue, is themetamorphosis.This is no doubt of a kind which is both symbolical and mythological; it sets forth, however, expressly furthermore the natural in its opposition to the spiritual. That is to say, it confers on an object immediately present to sense such as a rock, animal, flower, or spring the peculiar significance of being adelapsusand apunishmentof spiritual existences. Such are the examples of Philomela, the Pieredes, Narcissus, and Arethusa, all of whom, through some false step, passion, transgression or the like, became subject to irreparable guilt or pain, and for this reason were deprived of the freedom of spiritual life, and united to the substance of physical nature. From one point of view Nature is not regarded merely under its external and prosaic aspect, simply, that is, as mountain, river-source, tree and so forth, but it further receives a content which is bound up with some action or event of spiritual life. The rock is not simply stone, but Niobe herself, who weeps for her children. From the other point of view this human action implies guilt of some kind, and this metamorphosis into the physical phenomenon is accepted as a degradation of Spirit.

It is therefore necessary to distinguish these metamorphosesof human individuals or gods very sharply from the genuine type ofunconscious symbolism.To return to Egypt, for example, the Divine is here in part immediately envisaged in the mysterious and secluded intension of animal life, partly, too, the real symbol is here a natural form which is immediately associated with a wider significance cognate to it, despite the fact that this form is unable to supply the determinate existence fully commensurate with it; and this is so for the reason that neither in respect to its form or its content has unconscious symbolism arrived at the free outlook of Spirit. Metamorphosis, on the contrary, emphasizes the essential distinction between Nature and Spirit, and by doing so marks thepassagefrom that which is both symbolical and mythological to that which is in thestrict sensemythological, under, that is to say, a conception of the latter, which, albeit that it proceeds in its myths from a concrete fact of Nature such as sun, sea, rivers, trees, earth, and the like, nevertheless, further and expressly sets this purely natural aspect on one side and apart, divesting such natural phenomena of their inner content and individualizing the same as a spiritual Power in the adequate artistic form of gods clothed in the lineaments of humanity, whether we regard them as external shape or spiritual activity. In this sense Homer and Hesiod have given to the Greeks their mythology, a mythology which by no means merely consists in the revelation of the significance of such gods, by no means is merely an exposition of moral, physical, theological, or speculative doctrine, but one that is a mythology in the strict sense, that is the origin of a spiritual religion under the genuine guise of our humanity.

In the Metamorphoses of Ovid the most heterogeneous material is brought together quite apart from the entirely modern spirit in which myth is treated. Beside the mere aspect of metamorphosis, which could here in general terms only be conceived as a kind of mythical representation, we have the specific character[87]of this type raised in an exceptional way in these narrations, in which embodiments of this sort, which are commonly accepted as symbolical, or are already received in their entirely mythical character, appear tohave been converted into metamorphoses, and that which is elsewhere united is so presented as to assert an opposition between its significance and form, and the passage of the one into the other. In this way, for instance, the Phrygian or Egyptian symbol, the wolf, is so separated from its intrinsic significance, that the same is converted into a previous existence if not actually into the kingship of the Sun, and the existence of the wolf is conceived as resulting from an act of that human existence. In the same way in the song of the Pierides the Egyptian gods, the ram, the cat, and so forth are imaged as such animal forms, in which the mythical gods of Greece, Jupiter, Venus, and the rest have concealed themselves from sheer fright. The Pierides themselves, however, by way of punishment, in that they dared to rival the Muses with their singing, are changed into woodpeckers.

Looked at from another side it is equally necessary, with a view to securing the more accurate definition, which the content wherein the significance consists essentially carries, that we distinguish the metamorphosis from the fable. That is to say in the fable the binding together of the moral with the natural fact is an association that isharmless; for in this the thing of Nature, regarded under the mode in which it differs in its natural aspect from Spirit, does not affect the significance, although there are certainly single examples of the fables of Aesop, which, with but slight alteration, would be instances of metamorphosis. As such may be cited the forty-second fable of the bat, the thorn-bush, and the diver, whose instincts are explained as due to the ill-luck of former experiences.

And here we must end our passage through this the first circle of the comparative type of art. It started from that which was immediately present to sense, that is, the concrete phenomenon. We proceed now from the point we have arrived at to examine a further kind of significance which the type unfolds.

Forasmuch as the severation of significance from embodiment is the hypostasized form for consciousness, within which the relation of both originates independently, it is both possible and inevitable that in the articulation of the self-subsistency of one side no less than the other a start should be made not only from external existence, but conversely and as emphatically from that which isimmediately presentto the conscious subject, in other words general conceptions, reflections, emotions, and principles of thought. For this inward aspect is equally with the images of external objects a subject-matter present to consciousness and in its independence of that which is external proceeds on its way from its own resources. In the case, then, where we find the significance is the point of departure, the expression, that is, the reality, appears as themodus formulandi, which is abstracted from the concrete world in order to give a visible and sensuously defined shape to the significance regarded as abstract content.

Owing, however, to the reciprocally indifferent relation under which both sides confront each other, this association which binds the two sides together is, as we have already seen, no essentially explicit and necessary union; consequently the relation, such as it is, that is no actual reflection of objective fact, is rather aproductofactive mind, which no longer even disguises this its fundamental character, but rather deliberately exposes it in the form of its representation. The very embodiment possesses this binding together of form and content, soul and body, under the guise of concreteanimation[88], as essentially and explicitly the substantial union of both sides in the soul as in the body, in the content as in the form. In the case before us, however, what is presupposed by consciousness is the dislocation of the two sides, and consequently their association is the vivification of the significance simply for consciousness by means of a shape external to it, and an indication of a real existence, equally subjective in its character through therelation of the same to the general conceptions, emotions, and thoughts common to humanity. For this reason what is mainly emphasized in these forms of comparative art is the subjective art ofthe poetin his creative capacity, and in complete works of art we have mainly in our attitude to this particular aspect of them to separate that which strictly is appurtenant to their subject-matter and its necessary embodiment from that which is attached to them by the poet as mere ornament and embellishment. Such accessory detail, which we cannot fail to distinguish, that is, consisting mainly of images, similes, allegories, and metaphor, is precisely that part of his work in virtue of which he earns his title to fame with most people, a tendency which is all the more common because it indirectly bears witness to the insight and subtlety which enables such critics to discover our poet and draw attention to that aspect of his invention which is so entirely his own. But for all that, as we have already observed, in genuine works of art such forms as those we are discussing can only be regarded as accessory, although we doubtless do find in previous works onPoeticssuch incidental features treated as precisely those which go to make the poet.

Furthermore however, though unquestionably in the first instance the two sides which have to be associated stand in a relation of indifference to one another, yet in order to justify the subjective relation and comparison, the embodiments must also in the character of its content itself include the same relations and qualities under a cognate mode to that which the significance intrinsically possesses; the grasp of this similarity is, in fact, the one sure ground upon which the setting forth of the significance in union with this specific form rather than any other, and the envisagement of such import by its means is based. Lastly, inasmuch as we begin here, not from the concrete phenomenon, by the abstraction of a general characteristic from that, but conversely from this universal itself, which the intention is to have reflected in an image, the significance secures the position which makes it stand out actually as the real object, and as such is predominant over the sensuous picture which is themodusof its envisagement.

The series in which we propose now to examine the particulartypes we have mentioned as belonging to this phase of comparative art may be indicated as follows:

Firstin order, as most cognate to the previous stage, theriddlewill enlist our attention.

Secondly, we have to examine theallegory, in which as the main feature we shall find the abstract significance assert a mastery over the external form.

Thirdly, we have the class of the comparison in its strict sense;metaphor, image, andsimile.

1. THE RIDDLE

The true symbol is essentially enigmatical in so far as the externality, by means of which a general significance is made apparent, still differs from the import it is intended to express: in other words it thereby raises the doubt as to what is the exact signification applicable to the form. The riddle, however, appertains to conscious symbolism, and an obvious distinction between it and the genuine symbol is to be found in the fact that in the former case the meaning is clearly and fullyrecognizedby the propounder of it, and the form which veils that which is to be interpreted by it is thereforeintentionallyselected for this very purpose. The genuine symbol is both before and after the act of selection an unsolved problem, the riddle, on the contrary, is essentially a problem that is solved. It is therefore with very good reason that Sancho Panza exclaims: "I should much prefer to hear the solution first and the riddle afterwards."

(a)First, then, in the invention of the riddle, the point from which the process starts, is the apprehended meaning, the signification of it.

(b) Thesecondstep consists in the intentional selection of traits of character and other qualities from the common experience of the external world, which—such is always the aspect of Nature and external objects of every kind—are placed relatively to one another in piecemeal fashion, and in thus setting them forth in disparate contiguity, which makes their singularity the more striking. And inasmuch as they are so placed they are without the enfolding unityof mind, and their array and association intentionally distract has so far no intrinsic significance whatever. And yet for all that, and this is the other aspect of the riddle, they do expressly point to a unity in relation to which even traits to all appearance most heterogeneous contain, notwithstanding, both a real sense and significance.

(c) This unity, which may be styled the subject of these distract predicates, is just the simple preconception, the word that solves our riddle, to discover or divine which from the apparently confused medley of the mode under which it is propounded is the riddle's problem. Thus interpreted we may call the riddle the facetiousness of symbolism, aware that it is such which puts to the proof acuteness of insight and aptness at putting things together, and finally, by stimulating the zest of solution, breaks into and destroys the very mode of presentation it has itself set up. In the main we shall find this, form, therefore, most employed in human speech, though we may find exceptional examples of it also in the plastic arts[89], architecture, horticulture, and painting. With regard to its historical appearance the East is first and foremost responsible, and we may date its advent in that intermediate and transitional period out of the more obtuse type of symbolism into one of more intelligent knowledge and comprehension. Entire peoples and historical epochs have taken delight in the solution of such problems. It also plays an important part in the Middle Ages among the Arabs and the Scandinavians, and as a particular example it is much in evidence in the minstrel tourneys on the Wartburg. In modern times it is mainly under the more modest guise of recreation and purely social pleasantry that we cross it.

In the riddle we have opened a practically limitless field for witty and striking conceits, which in their reference to any given circumstance, occurrence, or object take the form of a play upon words or an epigrammatical sentence. On the one hand we have presented an object trite to a degree, on the other some conceit of the mind which emphasizes unexpectedly with conspicuous force some aspect or relation,which we failed to perceive in that object on first confronting it, and which now attaches to it the light of a new significance.

2. THE ALLEGORY

The counterpart to the riddle in this sphere of comparative art, where the point of departure is from the generality of the significance, is theallegory.From a certain point of view this form, no less than the former, endeavours to make more visible to us the definite qualities of a general conception through qualities in materially concrete objects which are cognate therewith; but in contrast to that form this is not done in the interest of a partial concealment and a mysterious problem; rather it is now quite the other way with the express object of absolute revealment; to an extent, in fact, that all which is external, and is as such utilized by it, must become through and through transpicuous with the significance which has to make its appearance therein.

(a) It is therefore in the first place concerned to personify abstract conditions of a general character or similar qualities both from the human and the natural world, such as religion, love, justice, strife, fame, war, peace, the seasons, death, and the like, and conceive them under the mode ofpersonality.This subjective aspect, however, is neither in respect to its content nor its external form in itself either a real subject or individual, but persists as the abstraction of a general conception, whose content is merely thebarrenform of subjectivity which may be called as truly a grammatical subject[90]. In other words an allegorical being, despite every attempt to clothe it in the lineaments of humanity, entirely falls short of concrete individuality, whether it be a Greek god, a saint, or any other genuine example. It is, in fact, so forced to pare away[91]from the substance of subjectivity, in order to make it conform with the abstract characterof its significance, that all the true definition of individuality disappears. It is therefore only a just criticism of allegory to say that it is frosty and cold, and, having regard to the abstract quality of its significances, even in the point of invention, that it is rather the result of the matter-of-fact understanding than that of the complete vision and emotional depth of genuine imagination. Poets, such as Virgil, for example, are particularly ready to give us examples of allegorical individualization simply because they are unable to create gods of the Homeric type of personality.

(b)Secondly, however, the significant character of allegorical material is at oncedefinedin its abstraction, and only by means of such definition is it intelligible; the expression of such particular aspects, for the reason that it is not immediately unfolded in that which is in the first instance a purelygeneralizedconception of personality, is consequently forced to appear alongside of the subject, simply as the predicates which elucidate the same. This separation of subject from predicate, generality from particularity, is the second feature of the frostlike appearance of the allegory. The envisagement of the determinate and specific qualities is borrowed from the modes of expression, activity, and resultant effects which make their appearance in virtue of the significance, when that secures its realized form in concrete existence, or from the various means which subserve it in its true realization. For example, war is delineated through weapons, cannons, drums, and standards, etc.; the yearly seasons, by an enumeration of the flowers and fruits, which pre-eminently spring up under the favouring influence of the particular seasons. Objects of this kind may further receive purely symbolical relations, as, for instance, Justice may be brought home to our minds by means of the scales and fillet, Death by that of the hour-glass and scythe. For the reason, however, that the significance in allegory is the dominant factor, and the more specialized presentment is subordinate to it under an equally abstract form, for it is, after all, itself merely an abstraction, the embodiment of such definable characteristics only secures the validity of anattributepure and simple.

(c) In this way the allegory is under both these aspects without vital warmth. Its general personification is empty,the definite mode of its externalization is only a sign, which taken independently has no longer any meaning, and thecentrum, which is thus constrained to gather up the variety of the attributes into a focus does not possess the potency of a truly subjective unity which is itself self-embodied in its real and determinate existence inter-related throughout, but is rather a purely abstract form, for which the substantial filling-up with particular traits, which, as we have seen, never succeed in rising above the rank of the formal attribute, remains as something external. Consequently we may say that in so far as the allegory sets up any claim to real self-consistency, in which it personifies its abstraction and their delineation, it is not to be taken seriously. In other words, that which is both implicitly and explicitly self-substantive is unable really to conform with an allegorical being. TheDikêof the ancients, for instance, is not on all fours with allegorical individualization. She is universal Necessity personified, eternal Justice, the universally potent subject, the absolute substantivity of the relations which co-ordinate Nature and spiritual Life, that is, she is the absolute Self-subsistent itself, in the train of whom all other individuals are bound, whether gods or men. Herr Frederick von Schlegel has, it is true—we have already referred to the fact—ventured the opinion that every work of art must of necessity be an allegory. Such an expression of opinion is only true if limited to the sense that every work of art must contain a general idea and a significance which is itself essentially true. What we have above, on the contrary, included under the term allegory is a mode of presentation which only conforms to the notion of art incompletely, being itself no less in content than in form subordinate to it. Every human event and development, every relation in which life is concerned, possesses no doubt intrinsically an aspect of universality, which may be emphasized as such, but abstractions of this kind are already to be found in the general contents of consciousness, and merely to assert them in their prosaic aspect of generality and external delineation, which is the point where the allegory halts, is still to fall short of the true sphere of art.

Winckelmann has also written an immature work on allegory, in which he has ranged together a large number ofexamples, but failed for the most part to distinguish those which exemplify the symbol and allegory respectively.

Among the particular arts within which we find examples of the allegory, poetry is really acting contrary to its laws when it takes refuge in such a mode of presentment; sculpture on the contrary is in most directions barely complete without it, more especially modern sculputure, which freely admits of that which is native to portraiture, and so must avail itself of allegorical figures in order to delineate more closely the relative aspects under which the individual presentment is posed. On Blucher's monument, for example, which has been raised to him here in Berlin, we find both the genius of Fame and Victory, although, having regard to the general treatment of the war of liberation, this allegorical aspect is once more set aside by means of a series of particular scenes such as the departure of the army, its march, and victorious return. Generally speaking, however, where the subject of sculpture is portraiture the sculptor will avail himself gladly of allegorical representation as offering to the simplicity of his central figure the contrast of environment and variety. The ancients on the other hand, on their sarcophagi for example, more frequently made use of general mythological representations of such figures as Sleep, Death, and the like.

Allegory generally is far less common in the antique than it is in the romantic art of the Middle Ages, although it must be added that such romance as it possesses is not really referable to allegory. The frequent appearance of allegorical conception at this particular epoch of human history is to be thus explained. From a certain point of view we find that the content of the Middle Ages is preoccupied with particular types of individuality and the personal aims, generally focussed in love and honour, and resulting in vows, wanderings, and adventures, which are common to them. Individuals of this type and the events of such lives invariably offer the imagination a wide scope for the inventive faculties, and the composition of accidental and capriciously imagined collisions and their resolution. On the other hand, in direct contrast to this motley show of worldly adventure we have the universal, taking it here as the stability of the ordinary relations and conditions of life,a universal which is not, as was the case in the ancient world, individualized in the figures of self-subsistent gods; consequently we find it freely and naturally emphasized in independent isolation as such universality alongside of these particular types of personality and their specific modes of appearance and activity. If the artist therefore happens to have before his mind the general conditions of life we have adverted to, and assuming that he is desirous of giving artistic embodiment to them in some form other than the accidental mode common to his age, that he wishes, in short, to emphasize their universality, he has no other alternative than to accept the allegorical type of presentment. This is precisely what we find in the sphere of religion.

The Virgin Mary, Christ, the actions and dramatic events of apostolic history, the saints with their penances and martyrdoms, are, it is true, even here individualities in the full sense; but Christendom is also to an equal extent concerned with the general conceptions of abstract spiritual qualities, such as will not comply with the concrete definition of actual persons inasmuch as the relation ofuniversalityis precisely the mode under which they are presented, of which examples are Love, Faith, and Hope. And generally the truths and dogmas of Christendom are independently cognized by the religious consciousness, and a main interest even of their poetry consists in this that these doctrines are emphasized in theiruniversalaspect, that Truth is known and believed in asuniversaltruth. In that case, however, it is necessary that the concrete presentation should remain a subordinate factor, itself external to the content, and allegory is just the form which satisfies this want in the easiest and most sufficient way. Conformably to this the divine comedy of Dante is full of allegorical matter. Theology, for example, in this poem is run together in fusion with the image of his beloved lady Beatrice. This personification, however, wavers in the lines of its delineation; and this uncertainty of outline is that which constitutes the beauty of it, and places it halfway between genuine allegory and a vision of his youthful love. In the ninth year of his life he looked on her for the first time: she appeared to him no daughter of mortal men, but of God. His fiery Italian nature conceived a passion for her, which the years failed toextinguish. And conscious that it was she who awoke in him the genius of poetry he finally sets himself the task, after he had lost in her that which was most loved in the fairest flower of its promise, of composing that wonderful monument of the most intimate and personal religion of his heart in the poetic masterpiece of his life.

Back to Index Next