CHAPTER II

THE SYMBOLISM OF THE SUBLIME

The perspicuity that has no riddles to expound, which is the object

of symbolic art and veritably the mark of Spirit self-clothed to the

perfect measure of its own substance, can only be attained on condition

that first and foremost the significance be presented to consciousness

distinct and separate from all the phenomena of external existence.

To the union of both immediately envisaged we have traced the absence

of art among the ancient Parsees. The contradiction involved in their

severation, followed by the association which it then stimulated

under the mode of immediacy, was the source of the fantastic type of

Hindoo symbolism. Finally, we have seen that in Egypt, too, the free

and unfettered recognition of the Inward principle and a significance

essentially independent from the phenomenon was lacking; and this

resulted in the mystery and obscurity of a symbolism still more

complete.

The first decisive act of purification, or, in other words, express

separation of the essential substance[67] from the sensuous present,

that is from the empirical facts of external appearance, we must

accordingly seek for in the Sublime, which exalts the Absolute above

every form of immediate existence, and thereby effects that initiatory

mode of its abstract liberation which is the basis of the spiritual

content. As Spirit in its concreteness the significance is not yet

apprehended; but it is, however, conceived as an Inwardness essentially

existent, reposing on its own resources, and of such a nature that

purely finite phenomena are alone inadequate to express its truth.

Kant has raised a very interesting distinction between the idea of the

sublime and the beautiful; and indeed all that he discusses in the

first part of his critique of the Judgment from the twentieth section

to the end--in spite of its considerable prolixity and its reduction of

every form of determination to a fundamentally subjective principle,

whether it be the content of feeling, imagination, or reason--still

possesses a real interest. We may in fact recognize this very reduction

on the ground of its general principle of relation to be just[68]; in

other words, to borrow Kant's own expressions, if the matter of our

consideration is primarily the Sublime in Nature, it is not in any fact

of Nature, but only in the content of our emotional life that such a

Sublime is to be discovered, and, further, only in so far as we are

conscious of a Nature peculiar to ourselves which involves the added

assumption of one that lies outside of us. The statement of Kant is

to be taken in this sense where he says: "The true sublime cannot be

enclosed in any sensuous form; it is only referable to the ideas of

reason, which, albeit no truly adequate representation can be given

them, are excited and awakened to life within the human soul by just

this very incompatibility of the permissibly sensuous representation

with its object[69]." The sublime is, in short, generally the attempt

to express the infinite, without being able to find an object in

the realm of phenomenal existence such as is clearly fitted for its

representation. The infinite, for the very reason that it is posited

independently as invisible and formless significance in contrast to

the complex manifold of objective fact, and is conceived under the

mode of inwardness, so long as it remains infinite remains indefinable

in speech and sublimely unaffected by every expression of the finite

categories.

The earliest content, then, which the significance secures at this

stage consists in this, that in contrast to the totality of the

phenomenal it is the essentially substantive _One_, which itself being

pure Thought is only present to thought in its purity. Consequently

it is no longer possible to inform this substance under the mode

of externality, and to that extent all real symbolical character

disappears. If, however, an attempt is made to envisage this essential

unity for sense-perception, such is only possible under a mode of

relation according to which, while retaining its substantive character,

it is further apprehended as the creative force of everything external,

in which it therefore discovers a means of revelation and appearance,

and with which it is accordingly joined in a positive relation. At the

same time it is an essential feature in the expressed content of this

relation that this substance is asserted above all particular phenomena

as such, no less than above their united manifold; from which it then

follows as a still more consequential result that the positive relation

is deposed for one that is _negative_; and the negative consists in

this that a purification of the substance is thus effected from the

phenomenal taken as any particular thing, that is, in other words, that

which is also not appropriate to it and which vanishes within it.

This mode of giving form, which is annihilated by the very thing which

it would set forth, so that it comes about that the exposition of

content affirms itself as that which renders the exposition null and

void is in fact the _Sublime._ We have therefore not, as we found to be

the view of Kant, to refer the Sublime exclusively to the subjective

content of the soul, and the ideas of reason which belong to it, but

rather form our conception of it as having its fundamental source

in the significance represented, in other words the one absolute

substance. We must, then, further deduce our classification of the

art-type of the Sublime from this twofold relation of the substantive

unity regarded as significance to the phenomenal world.

The characteristic which is held in common by both aspects of this

relation, whether we view it positively or negatively, consists in this

that the substance is posited above the particular appearance, in which

it is assumed to have found a representation, although it can only be

declared thereby under the form of a relation to the phenomenal in its

general terms, for the reason that as substance and ultimate essence

it is itself essentially without form and out of the reach of concrete

external existence. We may describe _pantheistic_ art as the first or

affirmative mode of conception at this stage, a type of conception

which we come across partly in India, and also to some extent in the

liberal atmosphere and mysticism of the more modern poets of Persian

Mohammedanism, and finally in the still profounder intensity of thought

and emotion which characterizes it when it reappears in western

Christianity.

Generally, defined substance is cognized at this stage as immanent in

all its created accidents, which for this reason are not as yet deposed

to a mere relation of service, viewed simply, that is, as an ornament

of glory to the Absolute, but are affirmatively conserved by virtue

of the indwelling substance; and this is so albeit it is the One and

the Divine alone which is set forth and exalted in all particularity.

By this means the poet, who contemplates and reveres this unity in

all things, and sinks his own individuality, no less than every other

object in this contemplation, is able to maintain a positive relation

to the substance, with which he associates all other objects.

The _second_ or _negative_ celebration of the Power and Glory of the

one God is that genuine type of Sublimity which we find in Hebrew

poetry. In this the positive immanence of the Absolute in the created

phenomena is done away with, and in place thereof we have the _one_

substance independently affirmed as sovereign Lord of the world, who

subsists over against the universe of His creations, which are posited

under a relation to this Supreme Being of essential and evanescent

powerlessness. If under such a view any representation is attempted of

the Power and Wisdom of this Unity under the form of the finite objects

of Nature and human destinies, we find nothing here that resembles the

Hindoo's distortion of such objects by the unlimited accretion to their

measure. The Sublimity of God is rather brought home to our senses by

means of a representation whose entire object is to show us that all

that exists in definite guise, with all its splendour, embellishment

and glory, is a loyal accident in His service, a show that vanishes

before the Divine essence and consistency.

A. THE PANTHEISM OF ART

Anyone who makes use of the word pantheism nowadays exposes himself

thereby to the grossest misunderstanding. For, to take but one aspect

of the difficulty, this word "all" signifies generally in our modern

acceptation of the term "all, and everything in its wholly empirical

particularity." We have at once recalled to us, for example, this

particular box with all its attributes, its specific colour, size,

form and weight, or that particular house, book, animal, table,

stool, oven, streak of cloud and so on, to the end of the list. When

we consequently find the charge advanced by not a few of our modern

theologians against philosophy, that it makes a God of everything in

general, it is quite obvious that this "everything" is taken in the

sense we have just adverted to, and this it is which is thus bodily

thrust upon her shoulders. In one word the complaint which attaches

to it is absolutely unwarranted. Such a conception of pantheism only

exists in the heads of stupidity, and is not discoverable in any form

of religion whatever, not even in those of the Iroquois and Esquimaux,

to say nothing of any philosophy. The "Everything" in what has been

termed pantheism is therefore neither this nor that particular thing,

but rather "Everything" in the sense of the "_All_," that is the One

substantive essence, which no doubt is immanent in particular things,

but is cognized in abstraction from their singularity and its empirical

reality, so that it is not the particular as such, but the universal

animating essence or soul, or to adopt a more popular way of speaking,

it is the true and the excellent, both equally a real presence in this

particular thing, which are here affirmed and indicated.

This it is which constitutes the real meaning of pantheism, and we

shall only have occasion now to employ the expression in this sense. It

applies first and foremost to the Orient, whose type of conception is

based on the thought of an absolute unity of Godhead and of everything

else as subsisting in this Unity. As such Unity and All the Divine

can only be presented to consciousness by means of the ever recurrent

evanescence of the limited number of particular objects, in which

its Presence is expressed. On the one hand we have here the Divine

envisaged as immanent in the most diverse objects, whether it be life

or death, mountain or sea, and with still closer intimacy no doubt

as the most excellent and pre-eminent among and in all determinate

existence. On the other hand, inasmuch as the One is this and again

that other and that other beyond it, and in short is discharged into

everything, all particular existence appears for that reason to be

a thing which is cancelled and vanishes, for no particular is alone

this One, but this One is this manifold of particulars which pass away

before semi-perception, as such particulars into the universe which

comprises them. For if the One is Life, it is also at another point

Death, and is to that extent not merely life, so that it is neither

as life nor the sun nor the sea that these or any other objective

realities constitute the Divine and One. At the same time we do not

find here, as in the genuine type of the Sublime, that the accidental

is expressly posited in the negative relation of mere service. So

far from this being so, substance is essentially identified with one

particular and accidental existence, inasmuch as it is this One in

everything. Conversely, however, this very particular, because it

is equally subject to change, and the imagination does not restrict

substance to one definite existence, but moves over every definition,

letting it fall that it may advance to another, is thereby relegated

in its turn to the accidental, over which the One is superposed in the

sublimity thus conjoined with it.

Such a way of viewing existence therefore can only be expressed in art

through poetry; the plastic arts are closed to it, inasmuch as they

bring before the vision the definite and particular, which in their

contrast to the substance present in the objects of Nature has to be

given up in a determinate and persistent form. Where we find pantheism

in its purity no plastic art is found as a mode of its presentation.

1. Once more we may adduce, as a first example of such pantheistic

poetry, the literature of the Hindoos, which along with its fantastic

symbolism has also elaborated the type of art under discussion with

distinction. In other words the Hindoo race, as we have seen, proceed

in their conceptions from the point of most abstract universality and

unity, which is then carried forward to the specific shaping of gods

such as Trimûrtis, Indras, and the rest. This process of definition,

however, is not adhered to with constancy; but to a like extent is

suffered once more to break up, so that we find inferior gods are

absorbed in superior gods, and the highest of all in Brahman. From

this it is sufficiently obvious that this Universal constitutes the

one persistent and unalterable basis of all. And if, as we freely

admit, the Hindoos evince the twofold impulse in their poetry, namely,

either to exaggerate the particular existence, in order that it may

appear to the senses compatible with the significance of the Absolute,

or, in the converse case, to suffer every form of definition to pass

as mere negation when contrasted with the one abstraction of Being,

yet at the same time there is another aspect of their literature, in

which we also find artistic representation under the purer mode of

imaginative pantheism we have just described, a mode in which the

immanence of the Divine is exalted above all particular existence

in which it is presented to sense and which as such disappears. We

may no doubt be rather inclined to recognize in this later mode of

conception a certain similarity with that type of the immediate unity

of pure thought which we found to be characteristic of the religious

consciousness of the Parsees. Among the Parsees, however, the One

and Excellent is conserved in its independence as itself a fact of

Nature, that is, Light. With the Hindoos, on the contrary, the One,

or Brahman, is merely the formless One; and this it is which in its

transformations through the infinite variety of the phenomenal world,

first gives rise to the pantheistic mode of representation. So we read

of _Krishna_ (_Bhagavad-Gita_, Lect. VII, II. 4 _et seq._): "Earth,

water and wind, air and fire, reason and egoity are the eight pieces

of my essential force; yet knowest thou somewhat more in me, a more

exalted essence, which animates the earthly and supports the world. In

it all existences have their origin. Ay, verily, thou knowest I am the

origin of the entire universe as also its annihilation. Aught higher

than myself is not; in me is this All conjoined together, as a chaplet

of pearls on a thread. I am the taste of sweetness in all that flows;

I am the splendour in the sun and moon, the mystic Word in the sacred

writings, manhood in man, the clean savour in the Earth, brightness

in flame, in all Being Life, meditation in all who repent. In that

which has Life the Power of Life, in the wise Wisdom, in the glorious

Glory. Everything that is true of its kind, and everything that is

specious and obscure proceeds out of me. I am not in them, but they are

in me. Through the illusion of these three qualities all the world is

made foolish, and knows me not who am unalterable. Moreover also the

Divine illusion, even Mâya, is my own illusion, which is hard indeed to

surpass, albeit all who follow after me step over this illusion." In

this passage we have indicated in the most striking terms just such a

substantive unity as the one above discussed, not merely from the point

of view of its immanence in immediate sense, but also from that of its

advance beyond and over all singularity.

In a similar manner _Krishna_ affirms of himself that He is the most

Excellent among all the different forms of existence (Lect. X, 21):

"Among the star's I am the radiant sun, among the human signs the

moon, among the sacred Books the Book of Hymns, among the senses

the spiritual, Meru among the tops of the mountains, the lion among

animals, the vowel A among all letters, among the seasons of the year

the blooming spring-time, etc."

This enumeration, however, of superlative excellence, and we may add

the description of that which is merely a change of forms, among

which it is always one and the same thing that is envisaged, despite

any superficial appearance such may give us at first of a prodigal

imagination, is none the less, by reason of this very equality of

content, extremely monotonous and in general empty and tedious.

2. Under a higher mode and in a freer manner from the subjective point

of view we find, _secondly_, oriental pantheism is elaborated in

Mohammedanism more particularly among the _Persians._

And here we are confronted with a relation of some singularity when we

direct our attention expressly to the point of view of the individual

poet.

(_a_) To explain this more fully we would point out that so long as

the poet yearns to behold the Divine in everything, and really so

beholds it, he also surrenders his own personality; but, while doing

so, he realizes quite as vividly the immanence of the Divine in his

spiritual world thus expanded and delivered; and consequently there

grows up within him that joyful ardour of the soul, that liberal

happiness, that revel of bliss, which is so peculiar to the Oriental,

who in freeing himself from his own particularity seems wholly to

sink himself in the Eternal and Absolute, and henceforth to know

and feel the image and presence of the Divine in all things. Such a

self-absorption in the Divine, such an intoxicated life of bliss in

God borders closely on mysticism. Under this aspect no volume is more

famous than the Oschelaleddin-Rumi, of which Rückert, with the help of

his marvellous powers of expression, which enable him to make light of

both words and rhymes with all the wealth and freedom of the phantasy

that comes so natural to the Persian poet, has supplied us with the

fairest examples. Love to God, with whom man identifies himself in most

boundless surrender, beholding Him as the One through every part of His

Universe, with whom and to whom every and each thing is related and

referred--this it is that gives us the focus of this type of thought, a

centre which radiates in every direction.

(_b_) And, further, while in the true type of the sublime, as will

appear shortly, the most excellent objects and the most glorious

shapes are employed merely as the ornament of God, and as servants to

celebrate the splendour and majesty of the One, being set before our

eyes to do Him honour as Lord of all creation, in pantheism, on the

contrary, it is the immanence of the Divine in external fact which

exalts the determinate existence itself of the world, Nature, and

humanity to its own self-substantial glory. The identical Life of

Spirit in the phenomena of Nature and all human relations animates and

spiritualizes the same in their own nature, and is further the source

of that characteristic attitude of subjective feeling in the soul of

the poet toward the objects he celebrates in his song. Suffused with

the animating influx of this glory the soul is essentially serene,

independent, free, secure in its comprehension and greatness; and

in this positive identification of itself with such qualities it

penetrates imaginatively with its life into the very heart of objective

existence, sharing the restful unity that it finds there, and grows up

in most blissful, most blithesome intimacy with the natural world and

its munificence, with the drinking-booth no less than the beloved,

and, in short, all that is held worthy of praise or affection. We find,

no doubt, the same kind of self-absorption in the romantic temperament

of the West. Generally speaking, however, and more particularly in

the North, it is not so gladsome, spontaneous, or free from yearning;

or, at least, it remains more exclusively shut up in itself, and is

consequently selfish and sentimental. A spiritual mood of this type, in

its depression and gloom, finds its most forceful outlet in the popular

songs of barbarous peoples. The spontaneous and joyful emotional

atmosphere is, on the contrary, congenial to the East, and particularly

characteristic of the Mohammedan Persians, who openly and gladly

surrender themselves with all their soul to the Divine influence, and

indeed to everything that appears to merit such devotion, while they

do not fail to retain the freedom of independence in such surrender,

and consciously to preserve the same in their attitude to the world and

all that surrounds them. We may, in fact, observe in the ardour of this

passion, the most expansive ecstasy and parrhesia[70] of the emotional

life, through which, in its inexhaustible wealth of gorgeous and

splendid images, one emphatic note of joy, beauty, and happiness rings

again and again. If the Oriental suffers or is unfortunate he takes

his reverses as the unalterable fiat of Destiny, and falls back upon

the strength of his own resources without any increase of depression,

sensitiveness, or vexation of spirit. In the poetry of Hafis we hear

often enough of the lover's woes and laments[71], as of many another

kind, but our poet persists through grief, no less than in happiness,

as free of care as ever. This is the mood of that sometime refrain:

/$

For thanks, in that the present glow

Of friendship circles thee,

Light strong the taper e'en in woe,

And joyful be.

$/

The taper teaches us both to laugh and to weep; it laughs through the

flame of shining merriment, albeit it melts at the same time in hot

tears; in the act of consumption it spreads wide the brightness of

joviality. This is also the general character throughout of this type

of poetry.

Among the objects frequently referred to in Persian poetry we

may mention flowers and jewels, and, above all, the rose and the

nightingale. It is a matter of frequent occurrence to represent the

nightingale as bridegroom of the rose. This gift of personality to the

rose and love to the nightingale may be abundantly illustrated from

Hafis. "Out of gratefulness, O rose," he sings, "that thou art the

sultana of Beauty, see to it that thou settest not a proud face to the

love of the nightingale." The poet himself speaks of the nightingale

of his own soul. When we of the West, on the contrary, refer in our

poetry to roses, nightingales, or wine, and such matters, we do so in

a wise much nearer to prose. The rose merely serves us for ornament,

as in the expression, among others, "garlanded with roses." If we

listen to the nightingale it is but to follow the bird with our own

emotions; we think of the grape-juice, and call it "the breaker of

our cares." Among the Persians, however, the rose is no mere image or

ornament, no symbol, but itself appears to the poet as possessed with a

soul, as loving bride, and he transpierces with his spirit the rose's

very heart. Precisely the same character of a gorgeous Pantheism is

still impressed on the most modern Persian poems. Herr von Hammer, for

instance, has given us a description of a poem which was forwarded,

among other gifts of the Shah, to the Emperor Francis in the year 1819.

It contains an account of the exploits of the Shah in 33,000 distiches,

who made a present of his own name to the Court poet in question.

(_c_) Goethe, too--here in contrast with the more perturbed atmosphere

and the concentrated emotion of the poetry of his youth--was carried

away in advanced age by the breadth of this careless and blithesome

spirit; and though already a veteran, swept through by the breath

of the East, dedicated the evening glow of his poetic passion, in a

flood of extraordinary fervour to this freedom of emotion which, even

where controversy is the sub ect-matter, still retains the beauty of

its careless temper. The songs of his Westöstlicher Divan, are by no

means the mere play of trivial social urbanities, but originate in a

precisely similar spirit of free and unrestrained emotion. In a song of

his to Suleica they are thus described by himself:

/$

Pearls from the poet,

Thine is the treasure,

Thine was the big swell

Of passion tumultuous,

Which strewed them on desolate

Strand of his life.

Gold-tips I call it,

Pierced with bright jewels,

Tenderly conned o'er

By tapering fingers.

$/

"Take them," he exclaims to his beloved:

/$

Circle thy neck with them,

Close, close to thy breast!

These raindrops of Allah

The meek shell hath ripened.

$/

Poetry such as this is the product of an experience of the widest

range, a sense which has held its own in many storms, a depth and also,

too, a youth of the heart--in other words:

/$

World of Life's own drift of forces,

World, the wealth of whose wave-roll

Caught afar the bulbul's passion,

Won the song which shook the soul.

$/

3. In this unity of pantheism, moreover, if emphasized in its relation

to _personal_ life, which feels itself united with God thereby, and

the Divine as this presence intuitively cognized, we have, speaking

generally, that type of _mysticism_ which, under this more intimate

mode, has also been elaborated in the pale of Christendom. We will

adduce but one example, namely, that of Angelus Silecius, who, with the

greatest audacity and depth of conception and emotional fervour, has

expressed the essential presence of God in objective Nature, the union

of the self with God, and the Divine with human personality, with an

extraordinary power of mystical presentment. The more genuine type of

Oriental pantheism, on the contrary, is inclined to insist more upon

the vision of the One substance in all phenomena and the self-surrender

of the individual, who thereby secures the most supreme expansion of

conscious life no less than the bliss of absorption into all that is

most noble and excellent by virtue of the absolute release from all

finitude.

B. THE ART OF SUBLIMITY

The One substance, however, which is here conceived as the real

significance of the entire universe, is only truly posited as

_substance_ where we find it suffered to retire into itself as pure

Inwardness and substantive Power out of its presence and realization

beneath the shifting forms of the phenomenal, and thereby is _set

forth_ in self-consistency as against all finitude. It is not till

we come to this intuitive vision of the essence of God as absolutely

Spiritual and apart from all image, and thus opposed to the things of

the World and Nature, that the Spiritual is completely wrested from all

that pertains to mere sense-perception and Nature, and delivered from

determinate existence in the finite. While conversely, however, the

absolute substance still maintains a relation to the phenomenal world

from which it is reflected back upon itself. In this relation is now

asserted that _negative_ aspect already adverted to, which consists

in this, that the entire universe, despite all the fulness, power,

and glory of its phenomenal contents, is expressly affirmed in its

relation to substance as that which is essentially of a purely negative

subsistence, a creation of God, subject to His power and service. The

world is therefore envisaged as the revelation of God, and He is the

_Goodness_ which permits the created thing that has no essential claim

to exist, none the less to exist in relation to Himself, nay, further

to have independent existence and thereby freely to conserve Him. This

conservation on the part of the finitude, however, is without real

substance, and in opposition to God the creature is here assumed to

be that which passes away and is powerless, so that at the same time

its _claim to existence_[72] is exhibited as a part of the goodness of

the Creator, which not only veritably affirms the impotence of that

which is essentially nothing apart from Himself, but thereby asserts

His substance as the source of all Power. It is this relation, so far

as it is set forth by art as the fundamental relation, both of content

and form, which brings before us the art-type of the real _Sublime._

The Beauty of the Ideal and Sublimity no doubt present features of

contrast. In the Ideal the Inward transpierces external reality, whose

inward essence it really is under the mode at least, that both aspects

are adequate to each other, and consequently appear to be in perfect

fusion with one another. In the Sublime, on the contrary, the external

existence, in which substance is envisaged for sense, is deposed

in its opposition to that substance, such deposition and vassalage

constituting the only mode, by means of which the God who is in His own

seclusion without form, and in His positive essence incapable of being

expressed by aught that is of the world and finite, can be envisualized

by artistic means. The Sublime pre-supposes the significance in the

self-subsistence of One, in relation to which externality is defined as

in subjection, in so far as that Inward substance fails to appear, but

its transcendent character is so asserted, that in the end nothing can

be represented save just this essential and active transcendency[73].

In the symbol the mode of the _external form_ was the main point

emphasized. It must possess a significance, and yet fail completely

to express it. In contrast to symbol of this kind and its obscure

content we have now a _significance_ in the absolute sense of the

term conjoined with its full recognition. A work of art is now the

actual discharge of pure essence conceived as the intensive purport of

everything, of an essence, however, which deliberately affirms that

very incompatibility of form to significance, which was only implicitly

present in the symbol, to be the actually transcendent significance of

God Himself within the sphere of worldly existence, and above all that

is contained therein.

It is a significance which is therefore sublime in the work of art,

which is exclusively concerned to express the same as thus explicitly

declared. We may no doubt with justice accept the description of

"_sacred_," as applicable generally to symbolical art, in so far as it

accepts the Divine as comprised in the content of its productions; but

the art of the Sublime alone can make good its claim to the distinction

without any deduction, for it is here alone that God receives all the

honour. In this sphere, owing to the fundamental character of the

significance implied, the content is generally of a more restricted

nature than that we find in genuine symbolism, whose relation to

the Spiritual is that of an effort and nothing more, and which in

the continuously shifting nature of its relations to to the world

offers such a wide field, either for transformations of that which is

spiritual into natural images, or of that which is essentially material

under accordant fusion with the Spirit.

We find as nowhere else this art of the Sublime, as a mode of its

original appearance, in the religious conceptions of the Hebrew race

and their sacred poetry. We say poetry advisedly, because plastic art

cannot possibly be in question here, where it is assumed that no image

whatever is adequate to express the nature of the Divine, and that

the part of poetry alone by means of the spoken or written word can

be employed for such a purpose. A closer examination of this type of

religious conception will secure to us the following points of view

most worthy of our general attention.

1. If we look at the content of this poetry under the aspect of its

most universal import, one of our first conclusions will be that God,

as Lord of a world created to serve Him, is not conceived as incarnated

in any form of the external, but rather as personality withdrawn

from all determinate and worldly existence into the solitude of His

pure Unity. For this reason that[74] which in genuine symbolism was

still associated with supreme Unity, falls apart under the view we

are considering into its twofold aspect, on one side the abstract

subsistency of God, on the other the concrete existence of the world.

(_a_) Now God Himself as this pure self-subsistency of the One

substance is essentially without form, and under this abstract

conception cannot be brought closer to the envisagement of sense. That

which therefore the imagination is able to seize at this stage is

not the Divine content viewed under the aspect of its pure essence,

inasmuch as this latter precludes the possibility of artistic

representation under any form adequate to it whatever. The only content

therefore that is left open to it is that of the _relation_ of God to

His created world.

(_b_) God is the creator of the universe. This is the purest expression

of the Sublime itself. In other words we find that here for the first

time all those fanciful conceptions of _generation_ and purely physical

_procreation_ of external fact by God disappear. Each and all give

place to the thought of creation by virtue of spiritual power and

activity. "God spake: Let there be Light, and there was Light." A

sentence dong ago cited, as a striking illustration of the Sublime by

Longinus. And such indeed it is. The Lord of all, the One substance,

proceeds, it is true, under the mode of self-expression; but the type

of this bringing forth is the purest, nay, a mode of expression,

aetherial so to speak, and without material form, the Word that is to

say, the medium of thought as the ideal Power, in conjunction with

whose mandate that it shall exist, the existing thing is veritably and

immediately posited under the relation of tacit obedience.

(_c_) Into this created world, however, God is not conceived to pass

over as into His reality; rather He abides withdrawn behind Himself,

albeit this opposition supplies no secure ground for a logically

developed dualism. For that which has been brought into being is His

work, possesses no self-consistency as apart from Him. It is solely a

witness to _His_ Wisdom, Goodness, and Justice in general, just that

and no more. The One is Lord over all; His dwelling is not in the facts

of Nature. They are solely the accidents of His Greatness, without

potency in themselves, which can indeed suffer the show of His essence

to appear, but are unable to make the reality of it visible[75]. And

this it is which constitutes the Sublime in its reference to the Divine.

2. Moreover, inasmuch as the one God is thus severed from the

concreteness of the phenomenal world and posited in isolated fixity,

while the externality of determinate existence is on its side defined

and placed in subordination as the finite, both natural and human

existence are now viewed under the novel aspect that they cannot be

conceived as manifesting the Divine without at the same time making

visible their essential finiteness.

(_a_) The most direct way of bringing home to ourselves the

significance of the above contrasted relations may be expressed in the

statement that here for the first time we have Nature and the human

form set before us _cut off from the Divine_, prosaic fact in short.

It is a Greek tale that when the heroes of the Argonautic Expedition

passed in their ships through the straits of the Hellespont, the

rocks which hitherto had crashed open and shut like shears suddenly

came to a standstill rooted firmly for evermore in the ground. In a

manner somewhat similar the process of the finite toward stability in

intelligible definition, as contrasted with the infinite essence, moves

onward in the sacred poetry of the Sublime, while in the conceptions of

symbolism, where we have the finite overturned in the Divine and the

latter quite as frequently thrust forth from its own substance into

temporal existence, nothing is permitted to keep its due position. If

we turn, for example, from ancient Hindoo poetry to the Old Testament

we find ourselves at once in a totally different atmosphere, one

in which we feel ourselves thoroughly at home, however much we may

discover in the circumstances, events, actions, and characters an

environment either alien or different to that in which we live. From a

world of tumble and confusion we are transported to another, and have

human figures presented to us, which appear as natural as those we see

with our eyes, characters with the stable outlines of patriarchal life,

which in the truth of their delineation stand so near that they receive

an immediate assent from our intelligence.

(_b_) In a general view of existence such as the above which is able

to grasp the natural process of life and to accept as valid the claim

of natural laws, _wonder_ for the first time is a really active

force. In Hindooism everything is a wonder and consequently is no

longer wonderful. No wonder can enter a world where the intelligible

connection of facts is invariably broken, where everything is wrested

from its place and turned topsy-turvy. For the wonderful presupposes

the rational sequence of events no less than the clear perceptions of

ordinary consciousness which, when it meets with some example of causal

effect produced by a higher law breaking the customary chain of events

now for the first time notifies the exception as a wonder. Wonders of

this kind, however, are no real or specific expression of the Sublime,

for the reason that the ordinary course of natural phenomena is

conceived as quite as much the product of the Will of God and evidence

of Nature's submission as such interruption of the same.

(_c_) We must rather look for the real Sublime in the fact that under

this view the entire created world is limited in time and space, with

no independent stability or consistency, and as such an adventitious

product which exists solely to celebrate the praise of Almighty God.

3. This recognition of the nullity of objective fact and the exaltation

and extolment of God are at this stage the source of man's _own_

self-respect, and in these he looks for his own consolation and

satisfaction.

(_a_) In this connection the Psalms supply us with classical examples

of the genuine Sublime, and are set forth as a precedent for all

times of what our humanity at the highest point of its spiritual

exultation has superbly expressed as the reflection of its religious

consciousness. Nothing in the world can here make good its claim to

independent subsistence, inasmuch as everything exists and subsists

simply through the Power of God, and only exists as in duty bound to

extol His mightiness no less than to acknowledge its own essential

nothingness. In the imagination of pantheism, which mainly unfolded in

the direction of material substance an infinite _extension_ of range

was most remarkable: what we most are amazed at here is the power of

spiritual exaltation which suffers everything else to fall away that

it may declare the unique Almightiness of God. An extraordinarily

forceful illustration of this temper is the 104th Psalm, "The Light is

Thy mantle which Thou wearest; Thou spreadest out the heavens like a

carpet, etc." Light, heavens, clouds, the pinions of the winds, each

and all are here nothing by themselves, merely an external vesture, the

chariot or messenger in the service of God. A further expansion of the

same idea is the extolment of the Wisdom of God, which has ordained

all things. The springs, which leap from their sources, the waters,

which flow between the hills, by the banks of which the birds of the

air sit and carol among the branches; the grassy vine, which gladdens

the heart of men and the cedars of Lebanon which the Lord hath planted;

the sea, and its swarms without number; the whales which sport therein,

all these hath the Lord made. And all that God has created He also

preserves. "Thou hidest Thy Face, and they are affrighted; Thou takest

their breath away and they are gone and become again as dust." The 90th

Psalm, that prayer of Moses, the man of God, insists expressly on the

nothingness of man, where we read: "Thou sufferest them to pass away

like a brook; they are like as a sleep, even as the grass, which is

soon withered, and in the evening is cut down and dried up. Thy scorn

maketh us to pass away; Thou showest Thine anger and we are gone."

(_b_) Two ideas are therefore associated together with the Sublime,

if viewed in its relation to the human soul, first, that of man's

finiteness, and secondly, that of the insurmountable aloofness of God.

(_α_) For this reason the idea of _immortality_ is not to be found

where this mode of conception obtains in its original purity; for this

idea involves the assumption that the individual self, the soul, the

spirit of man is essentially a self-subsistent entity. In the religion

of the Sublime it is only the One that is apprehended as imperishable;

opposed to that all else merely subsists and passes away, is neither

essentially free nor infinite.

(_β_) And, further, on a similar ground man is conceived in his

absolute _unworthiness_ before God; his exaltation consists in the fear

of the Lord, in a trembling before His scorn. Over and over again, with

a directness which tears aside every veil and opens the very depths, we

have the cry of the soul to God depicted, the sorrow over the sense of

its nothingness, increasing lament and groanings unutterable.

(_γ_) On the other hand if the individual persist in his finiteness of

opposition to God, this deliberately willed persistence is wickedness,

which as _evil_ and _sin_ belongs only to the natural and human

condition, and is conceived as remote from the One undifferentiated

substance as pain and everything else that is essentially negative.

(_c_) _Thirdly_, however, within this very condition of spiritual

nakedness, and, in despite of it, man secures a freer and more

independent position. On the one hand out of the fundamental repose and

constancy of God viewed in reference to His Will and the commands which

that Will imposes upon humanity, arises the _Law_; while under another

point of view the wholly unambiguous distinction between that which is

human and that which is Divine, between the finite and the Absolute, is

implied in this type of human exaltation. Therewith the judgment upon

good and evil, and the onus of decision in respect to either the one or

the other is transferred to the individual soul itself. This relation

to the Absolute, and the question it involves as to the fittingness or

unfittingness of man over against the same presents, therefore, also

an aspect, which applies to the individual himself, his own behaviour

and action. In other words we may trace in man's rightful acts and his

following of the Law a relation to God which is, side by side with

the former one, an affirmative relation, a relation which has to

bring generally the external condition of his existence, whether it

be positive or negative, weal, enjoyment and satisfaction, or pain,

unhappiness and oppression into union with the obedience of his heart

or his stubbornness of spirit against the Law, and accept the same in

the one case as favour and reward, in the other as trial and punishment.

[Footnote 67: _Des An-und-für-sich-seyenden, i.e._, the explicit

content of all that is implied in actuality cognized as an object in

itself.]

[Footnote 68: According to Hegel the conception of Kant is right in

that (_a_) He makes the Sublime to consist in a relation between the

phenomenal fact and something which it is not; and (_b_) that he lays

it down that no mere representation by means of phenomenal form can

adequately express it. He is wrong, however, in that he refers the

Sublime for its source wholly to the subjective content, _i.e._, that

Nature which is peculiar to ourselves (_in uns._)]

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

[Footnote 70: Parrhesia, _i.e._, πἀρρἥσια,--speaking freely or beyond

ordinary bound.]

[Footnote 71: _Den Schenken_ should be _die Schenken_, and a few

lines below _der Kerze_ should be _die Kerze._ I omit the _Schenken_

altogether. Of course it is possible _der Kerze_ is Genitive, "in the

woe of the taper," and the verb intransitive; but this is very harsh.]

[Footnote 72: This appears to be the meaning of _Garechtigkeit._]

[Footnote 73: _Sondern so darüber hinausgeht, dass eben nichts als

dieses Hinauseyn und Hinausgehen zur Darstellung kommen kann._ That

is, the art of the Sublime is based essentially on a contradiction,

for while it assumes the One substance to be the significance of the

external world, it is the truth of that significance that it points to

that which transcends externality.]

[Footnote 74: The thought here is not strictly logical. What is

associated by symbolism with Unity is the external Other, what is

divided by Hebraic conception is the entire content of the Real

both in its spiritual and external aspect. But the general sense is

sufficiently clear.]

[Footnote 75: This I take to be the point of the contrast between the

words _scheinen_ and _erscheinen_.]

The Philosophy of Fine Art, volume 2 (of 4) Hegel's Aesthetik · 第 2 / 8 章