(γγ) Inasmuch as, further, the god passes into the sphere of the human imagination, and, still more important, is represented in real bodily shape, into close relations with which again man is placed by his cultus in the activities of divine worship, a fresh material is here, too, presented by such relations for the extension of all that is positive and accidental. What animals have to be sacrificed to any god, what vestments the priesthood or the worshipper must appear in, what particular sequence must be adopted in any ceremonial—by all such matters the most varied and particular incidents are accumulated. For every activity of this kind implies an indefinite number of aspects and modes of arrangement, which may accidentally fall out in this way or that, but which, as appurtenant to a sacred rite, should be something settled, and not fixed by caprice, and which necessarily tend to pass into the sphere of symbolism. The colour of the vestments is an example of this; in the ritual of Bacchus we have the colour of wine, in like manner the doe-skin in which those initiated in the mysteries were enwrapped. The same thing applies to the drapery and attributes of the gods, the bow of Pythian Apollo, the whip, the staff, and numberless other accessories. Such things become, however, gradually a custom and nothing more; no one in the practice of the same thinks any longer of their birth history; and all that we now by dint of our research point out as their significance, has in the performance of them grown to something quite external, which mankind associates himself with on account of the immediate interest, that is, from mere sense of fun, delight in the present, devotion, or simply because it is just a custom and is so fixed for his active senses, and is done in like manner by others. As an example from our own life, when we see our German youth light the Johannis fire in summer time, or play antics elsewhere, and throw it at the windows, such is for us a purely formal custom, in which the original significance fades as much into the background as at the festal dances of Greek youths and maidens the revolutions of the dance do in their imitative (like the twists and turns of some labyrinth) significance of the spiral motions of the planets. Youth does not dance in order to entertain ideas of such things, but the interest limits itself naturally to the dancing and the tasteful and graceful festivity of its beautiful motion. The entire significance, which was created by the original stimulus, and of which the reproduction was for the imagination and sensuous perception of symbolical character, is throughout an imaginative conception, whose singular traits we suffer to pass from us like a fairy story, or as in historical narrative as external detail relative to Time and Space, and of which we can only say: "It is so," or, "Such is the tale," and so forth. The interest of art can consequently only consist in this, namely, that it borrow one aspect from the material which has passed into the condition of positive externality, and make the best of this one for an example, which sets the gods before us as concrete, living individuals, merely retaining a distant echo of any profounder significance.
This positive aspect is precisely that which endows the Greek gods with the charm of living humanity when the imagination elaborates it anew. It is by this latter process that what is otherwise merely of substantive import, or that of power, is thereby carried into the individual present, which, speaking in general terms, is concentrated to a point out of that which is truly explicit or independently actual, and which is external and accidental, and thereby the indefinite, which otherwise is always present in the conception of the gods, is limited in its range and filled out in its content. We are unable to attach any additional value to specific tales and particular traits of characterization, for this material, which, in its earlier stage is, when we look at its primary source, the symbolically significant, has now only remaining the task to perfect the spiritual individuality of the gods in their positive sensuous definition in contrast to the human and to attach to it by virtue of a material which, in respect to its content and envisagement, is undivine, the aspect of caprice and chance, characteristics inseparable from concrete individuality. Sculpture, in so far as it presents to our senses the pure ideals of the gods, and is concerned to set before us character and expression solely under the mode of living bodies, can least of all with clearness make visible the final result of individualization. It does nevertheless give real effect to it within the limits of its own province, as we may see, for example, in the different treatment of headdress, the mode in which the folds or locks of hair are arranged in each particular case; and this is done not merely with a view to symbolical interpretation but in order to individualize. In this way Hercules has short locks, Zeus an abundant growth which rises above the forehead, Diana quite a different folding of the hair to that of Venus. Pallas, too, is distinguished by the Gorgo on the helmet, and the like result is obtained by means of weapons, girdle, fillets, bracelets, and all the variety of other external adornment.
(γ) We find as a third and final source of the closer definition of divine personality the relation which this occupies to the concrete actual world and its numerous natural phenomena, human deeds and events. For however much we have seen that this spiritual individuality is in part respectively to their universal essence, and partly in respect to their particular singularity, the visible result of earlier natural foundations which have symbolical significance, yet it also persists, if regarded as a spiritually self-subsistent personality, in a relation of continuous, vitality with Nature and human existence. It is under this point of view, as we have already intimated at length, that we have before us the imaginative flow of the poet, an ever fertile source of particular tales, traits of character and exploits, such as are related us about the gods. The artistic aspect of this stage of the process consists in this, that the divine personalities are made to blend in a vital way with human affairs, and that the isolated nature of events are without exception conceived in association with the universality of the divine, just as we ourselves, for example, are wont to say, if in another sense, of course, that this or that eventuality comes from God. Even in the reality of everyday life, in the natural process of his existence, in his daily wants, fears, and hopes, the Greek took refuge in his gods. At first it was external accidents, which the priesthood accepted as omens, and interpreted relatively to his objects and circumstances. If distress and misfortune appeared, the priest had to explain the cause of the affliction, to recognize the anger and disposition of the gods, and to suggest the means by which the misfortune might be faced. The poets proceed yet further in their interpretations for this reason, namely, that they ascribe everything, which is related to a pathos universal and essential, that is, the moving force in human resolve and action, to the gods themselves and their activity; so that the activity of mankind appears likewise as the act of the gods, who fulfil their own counsels by means of their instrument, man. The material in these poetical expositions is taken from the circumstances of ordinary life, in respect to which the poet lays it down, whether this or that god has expressed his purpose in the event which he is expounding and asserted himself actively therein. For this reason poetry to an exceptional extent enlarges the range of many specific stories, which have the gods for their principal subject-matter. We may in this connection recall to our memories several examples which we have already used as illustrations when considering another aspect of our subject, namely, the relation of the universal powers to the practical pursuits of human personality. Homer places Achilles before us as the bravest among the Greeks before Troy. This pre-eminence of his hero he expresses by means of the statement that Achilles is invulnerable in every portion of his body with the single exception of his heel, which his mother was compelled to take hold of when she dipped him in the Styx. This tale has its origin in the imagination of the poet who thus interprets the external fact. If we accept this bluntly as though an actual fact purported to be expressed therein which the ancients would have believed in the same sense that we believe in any fact on the evidence of our senses such a conclusion is a very crude one indeed. It in short amounts to this, that Homer no less than all the Greeks and Alexander with them who admired Achilles and praised his fortunes, which were the main theme of the song of Homer, were simpletons. Such a glorification must inevitably carry such a consequence if the reflection is to hold good that the bravery of Achilles was no difficult matter since he was aware of his invulnerability. But the bravery is, in truth, thereby in no way abridged, because he is equally aware of his early death, and notwithstanding never evades danger, however it may arise. The like relation is put before us in a very different way in the "Niebelungenlied." In that the horned Siegfried is likewise invulnerable, but he has also in addition to this his cap which makes him invisible. When he assists King Gunther thus invisible in the fight of the latter with Brunhilde it becomes simply an affair of barbaric sorcery which does not enhance very much our opinion either of the bravery of Siegfried or King Gunther. No doubt in Homer the gods frequently lend assistance to particular heroes; but the gods merely appear on such occasions as the universal concept of that which man as an individual himself is and carries out, and to carry out which he must actively employ the entire strength of his heroic endowment. If it had been otherwise the gods would have only found it necessary to decimate en masse the Trojan host in battle in order to complete at once the triumph of the Greeks. Homer gives us a picture just the reverse of this when he describes the main fight as essentially a contest between individuals, and it is only when the press and medley in general, when the entire mass of combatants, the collective heart of the host clashes in fury, that Ares at length storms over the field and gods war against gods. And this is not only generally fine and splendid as an enhancement of the effect, but we may find in it the profounder significance that Homer recognizes the particular heroes in what is singular and exceptional and the universal potencies and forces in the collective effect and the general aspect. In another connection Homer permits Apollo to appear on the scene, when the moment arrives which is fatal to Patroclus who is bearing the invincible armour of Achilles[195]. Three times had Patroclus plunged into the crowded host of the Trojans, mighty as Ares, and three times he had already slain nine men. When he stormed there for the fourth time then it was that the god, enveloped in obscure night, made toward him among the medley and smote him on the back and the shoulders, tore away from him his helmet, so that it rolled on the ground, and rang out sharply as it struck the hoofs of the chargers; and the plumes of it were besmirched with blood and dust, which none ever wot of before. Apollo also breaks the brazen spear in his hands, the shield drops from his shoulders, and his armour is loosened on him by the god. This interference of Apollo we may accept as the poetic explanation of the circumstance, that it is exhaustion no less than natural death which seizes upon and subdues Patroclus in the turmoil and heat of battle at the fourth encounter. Then it was that Euphorbus was able to thrust his spear into his back between the shoulders. Yet one more time Patroclus endeavoured to withdraw from the battle; but Hector had already hastened to meet him, and thrust his spear deep into his side. Then Hector rejoiced and mocked the sinking hero. But Patroclus, speaking in low tones, replied that it was Zeus and Apollo who had mastered him, and withal with no trouble, because they had taken his weapons from off his shoulders. "Twenty men such as thou art," he exclaims, "I could have laid low with my spear, but I am slain by fateful necessity and the hand of Apollo. Thou, Euphorbus, hast but slain me the second time, and thou, Hector, but the third." Here, too, we may remark that the appearance of the gods simply points to the fact that Patroclus, albeit protected by the armour of Achilles, becomes faint, confounded, and despite of it slain. And this is not by any means a superstitious freak or empty play of the imagination, or rather a statement which amounts to this[196], that Hector's fame will be detracted from by this interposition of Apollo, and that even Apollo does not play in the entire affair a part which entirely redounds to his honour, since we necessarily take into account the might of the god—speculations of this kind merely betray a superstition of the prosaic mind as destitute of taste as it is devoid of reason. For in every case where Homer explains specific events by means of such appearances of the gods the gods use that which is already immanent in the conscious life of men, the power, that is, of their own passion and observation, or the potentialities of the general condition in which the man is placed, the force and the foundation of that which befalls and happens to anyone as a consequence of such conditions If it is true that at times traits that are wholly external and absolutely positive assert themselves in the appearance of the gods these in their turn have a comic aspect; as in the case when the lame Hephaestos goes round as cup-bearer. And generally we may say that Homer never treats the reality of such appearances from first to last seriously. At one time we see the gods in action, at another they occupy a station of complete tranquillity. The Greeks were fully conscious that it was the poets who were responsible for such apparitions; and if they believed in them their belief was connected directly with that spiritual aspect which is equally the possession of mankind, forasmuch as it is the universal, the very active and motive principle in the events thus presented. From whatever point of view, therefore, we consider the matter it is clear that it is totally unnecessary to import superstition either in our own views or in those of the Greeks before we can enjoy such poetical representations of their gods.
(b) Such, then, is the general character of the classical Ideal, whose broader development we shall have to consider more succinctly when we examine the particular arts. Here we have only to add the observation that to whatever extent either gods or men are carried in their positive opposition to the particular and external, yet in classical art the affirmative ethical substratum must assert itself as maintained. The subjectivity remains throughout in union with the substantive content of its powers. Just as in Greek art the natural element is preserved in harmony with the spiritual and is likewise subordinated to the ideal content, though it be as adequate existence, the inward heart of our humanity ever presents itself also in a thorough identity with the genuine objectivity of Spirit, in other words, with the essential content of what is moral and true. Regarded from this point of view, the classic Ideal is unaware of the separation of ideality from external presentment and of the rending of the subjective and consequently abstract individual caprice in its various objects and passions, and it is no less so, on the other hand, of the abstract universal as thereby created. The foundations of character must, consequently, always be the substantive, and what is bad, sinful and evil in the self-housed dwelling of subjectivity is excluded from classical representations. And above all else the harshness, wickedness, meanness, and hideousness which finds a place in romantic art, will be wholly alien to it. It is true, we find many instances of transgression, matricide, patricide and other crimes against the love of family and piety treated as the subject-matter of Greek art; but they are not here regarded simply as atrocities, or, as a little while since it was the fashion among ourselves, as brought about by the inscrutability of a so-called fatality which imports the appearance of a necessary result. Rather, if such transgressions are committed by mankind and in part ordered and defended by the gods themselves, such actions are on every occasion presented to us from some point of view at least in a light which declares a certain justification truly arising out of the subject-matter itself.
(c) Despite this substantive foundation we have seen the general elaboration of the gods of classical art manifest itself out of the repose of the Ideal within the variety of the individual and external embodiment, in all the detail of events, occurrences, and actions, which become ever and ever more human. By this means classical art finally, if we consider its content, carries yet further the process of articulating the accidental individualization, when we consider it as a mode of making the same pleasurable and attractive. In other words that which pleases is the elaboration of the particular aspect of the external phenomenon at every point of the same; by this means the work of art no longer arrests the spectator merely in its connection with his own concrete soul-life, but also contains many affiliating links with the finite aspect of his subjectivity. For it is precisely in the finiteness of the art-creation that the closer association subsists with that aspect of the individual which is itself finite, and which rediscovers itself once more with satisfaction in every respect as mobile and stable existence in the art-product. The seriousness of the gods becomes a grace, which does not agitate with violence or lift a man over his ordinary existence, but suffers him to persist there tranquil, and simply claims to bring him content. Just as we generally find that the imagination when it masters religious conceptions, and endows them with a form appropriate to its notions of beauty, has a tendency to make the earnest character of devotion disappear, and in this respect destroys religion strictly as religion; so, too, this very process moves forward at the stage we are discussing for the most part by the addition of that which is agreeable and pleases. For it is not by any means the substantial aspect, the significance of the gods, or their universal character, which is evolved by virtue of what delights. Rather it is the finite side, their sensuous existence and subjective inward life, which purports to awake interest and provide satisfaction. The more, therefore, the charm of the existence reproduced is the dominant factor in its beauty to that extent the gracefulness is disentwined from the embrace of the universal and removed from the content, through which alone the profounder penetration could rest satisfied.
The transition to another province of the forms of art is closely united with this externality and articulate definition. For under the mode of externality reposes the manifold of the finite condition; a manifold which, so soon as it secures a free field, asserts itself finally in opposition to the spiritual Idea, its universality and truth, and begins to rouse up the dissatisfaction of thought in a reality which is no longer adequate to express it.
[180] Chapter XLIX.
[181] I presume this is the sense of that difficult word des Inneren here.
[182] By "absolute" I presume Hegel means here absolute in the sense of predominant, masterful—activity such as the Greek artist possessed.