A conception like this cannot be expressed by the figurative arts, but only by poetry. Where pantheism is pure, it admits no sensuous representation and proscribes images. We find this pantheism in India. All the superior gods of the Indian mythology are absorbed in the Absolute unity, or in Brahm. Oriental pantheism is developed in a more formal and brilliant manner in Mahometanism, and in particular among the Persian Mahometans.
But the truly sublime is that which is represented by Hebrew poetry. Here, for the first time, God appears truly as Spirit, as the invisible Being in opposition to nature. On the other side, the entire universe, in spite of the richness and magnificence of its phenomena, compared with the Being supremely great, is nothing by itself. Simple creation of God, subject to his power, it only exists to manifest and glorify him.
Such is the idea which forms the ground of that poetry, the characteristic of which is sublimity. In the beautiful the idea pierces through the external reality of which it is the soul, and forms with it a harmonious unity. In the sublime, the visible reality, where the Infinite is manifested, is abased in its presence. This superiority, this exaltation of the Infinite over the finite, the infinite distance which separates them, is what the art of the sublime should express. It is religious art—preëminently, sacred art; its unique design is to celebrate the glory of God. This rôle, poetry alone can fill.
The prevailing idea of Hebrew poetry is God as master of the world, God in his independent existence and pure essence, inaccessible to sense and to all sensuous representation which does not correspond to his grandeur. God is the Creator of the universe. All gross ideas concerning the generation of beings give place to that of a spiritual creation: “Let there be light, and there was light.” That sentence indicates a creation by word—expression of thought and of will.
Creation then takes a new aspect, nature and man are no longer deified. To the infinite is clearly opposed the finite, which is no longer confounded with the divine principle as in the symbolic conceptions of other peoples. Situations and events are delineated more clearly. The characters assume a more fixed and precise meaning. They are human figures which offer no more anything fantastic and strange; they are perfectly intelligible and accessible to us.
On the other side, in spite of his powerlessness and his nothingness, man obtains here freer and more independent place than in other religions. The immutable character of the divine will gives birth to the idea of law to which man must be subject. His conduct becomes enlightened, fixed, regular. The perfect distinction of human and divine, of finite and infinite, brings in that of good and evil, and permits an enlightened choice. Merit and demerit is the consequence of it. To live according to justice in the fulfilment of law is the end of human existence, and it places man in direct communication with God. Here is the principle and explanation of his whole life, of his happiness and his misery. The events of life are considered as blessings, as recompenses, or as trials and chastisements.
Here also appears the miracle. Elsewhere, all was prodigious, and, by consequence, nothing was miraculous. The miracle supposes a regular succession, a constant order, and an interruption of that order. But the whole entire creation is a perpetual miracle, designed for the glorification and praise of God.
Such are the ideas which are expressed with so much splendor, elevation and poetry, in the Psalms—classic examples of the truly sublime—in the Prophets, and the sacred books in general. This recognition of the nothingness of things, of the greatness and omnipotence of God, of the unworthiness of man in his presence, the complaints, the lamentations, the outcry of the soul towards God, constitute their pathos and their sublimity.
Of the Reflex Symbol.
Fable, Apologue, Allegory, etc.—We have run over the different forms which symbolism presents among the different people of the East, and we have seen it disappear in the sublime, which places the infinite so far above the finite that it can no longer be represented by sensuous forms, but only celebrated in its grandeur and its power.