The idea begins to assert itself. On its side, the symbol takes a form more precise; the spiritual principle is revealed more clearly, and frees itself from physical nature, although it cannot yet appear in all its clearness.
The following mode of representation corresponds to this idea of symbolic art: in the first place, the forms of nature and human actions express something other than themselves; they reveal the divine principle by qualities which are in real analogy with it. The phenomena and the laws of nature, which, in the different kingdoms, represent life, birth, growth, death and the resurrection of beings, are preferred. Such are the germination and the growth of plants, the phases of the course of the sun, the succession of the seasons, the phenomena of the increase and decrease of the Nile, etc. Here, because of the real resemblance and of natural analogies, the fantastic is abandoned. One observes a more intelligent choice of symbolic forms. There is an imagination which already knows how to regulate itself and to control itself—which shows more of calmness and reason.
Here then appears a higher conciliation of idea and form, and at the same time an extraordinary tendency towards art, an irresistible inclination which is satisfied in a manner wholly symbolic, but superior to the previous modes. It is the proper tendency towards art, and principally towards the figurative arts. Hence the necessity of finding and fashioning a form, an emblem which may express the idea and may be subordinated to it; of creating a work which may reveal to spirit a general conception; of presenting a spectacle which may show that these forms have been chosen for the purpose of expressing profound ideas.
This emblematic or symbolic combination can be effected in various ways. The most abstract expression is number. The symbolism of numbers plays a very important part in Egyptian art. The sacred numbers recur unceasingly in flights of steps, columns, etc. There are, moreover, symbolic figures traced in space, the windings of the labyrinth, the sacred dances which represent the movements of the heavenly bodies. In a higher grade is placed the human form, already moulded to a higher perfection than in India. A general symbol sums up the principal idea; it is the phœnix, which consumes itself and rises from its ashes.
In the myths which serve for the transition, as those of Asia Minor—in the myth of Adonis mourned by Venus; in that of Castor and Pollux, and in the fable of Proserpine, this idea of death and resurrection is very apparent.
It is Egypt, above all, which has symbolized this idea. Egypt is the land of the symbol. However, the problems are not resolved. The enigmas of Egyptian art were enigmas to the Egyptians themselves.
However this may be in the East, the Egyptians, among eastern nations, are the truly artistic people. They show an indefatigable activity in satisfying that longing for symbolic representation which torments them. But their monuments remain mysterious and mute. The spirit has not yet found the form which is appropriate to it; it does not yet know how to speak the clear and intelligible language of spirit. “They were, above all, an architectural people; they excavated the soil, scooped out lakes, and, with their instinct of art, elevated gigantic structures into the light of day, and executed under the soil works equally immense. It was the occupation, the life of this people, which covered the land with monuments, nowhere else in so great quantity and under forms so varied.”
If we wish to characterize in a more precise manner the monuments of Egyptian art, and to penetrate the sense of them, we discover the following aspects:
In the first place, the principal idea, the idea of death, is conceived as a “moment” of the life of spirit, not as a principle of evil; this is the opposite of the Persian dualism. Nor is there an absorption of beings into the universal Being, as in the Indian religion. The invisible preserves its existence and its personality; it preserves even its physical form. Hence the embalmings, the worship of the dead. Moreover, the imagination is lifted higher than this visible duration. Among the Egyptians, for the first time, appears the clear distinction of soul and body, and the dogma of immortality. This idea, nevertheless, is still imperfect, for they accord an equal importance to the duration of the body and that of the soul.
Such is the conception which serves as a foundation for Egyptian art, and which betrays itself under a multitude of symbolic forms. It is in this idea that we must seek the meaning of the works of Egyptian architecture. Two worlds—the world of the living and that of the dead; two architectures—the one on the surface of the ground, the other subterranean. The labyrinths, the tombs, and, above all, the pyramids, represent this idea.