They are poets, but also prophets and diviners. They represent human actions in divine actions, and, reciprocally, without having the clear and decided distinctions. They maintain the union, the accord, of the human and the divine. Such is the significance of the greater part of the apparitions of the gods in Homer, when the gods, for example, consult the heroes, or interfere in the combats.
Meanwhile, if we wish to understand the nature of this ideal, to determine, in a more precise manner, the character of the divinities of Greek art, the following remarks are suggested, considering them, at the same time, on the general, the particular, and the individual sides.
The first attribute which distinguishes them is something general, substantial. The immortal gods are strangers to the miseries and to the agitations of human existence. They enjoy an unalterable calmness and serenity, from which they derive their repose and their majesty. They are not, however, vague abstractions, universal and purely ideal existences. To this character of generality is joined individuality. Each divinity has his traits and proper physiognomy, his particular rôle, his sphere of activity, determined and limited. A just measure, moreover, is here observed: the two elements, the general and the individual, are in perfect accord.
At the same time, this moral character is manifested under an external and corporeal form itself, its most perfect expression, in which appears the harmonious fusion of the external form with the internal principle animating it.
This physical form, as well as the spiritual principle which is manifested in it, is freed from all the accidents of material life, and from the miseries of finite existence. It is the human body with its beautiful proportions and their harmony; all announces beauty, liberty, grace. It is thus that this form, in its purity, corresponds to the spiritual and divine principle which is incarnate in it. Hence the nobleness, the grandeur, and the elevation of those figures, which have nothing in common with the wants of material life, and seem elevated above their bodily existence. They are immortal divinities with human features. The body, in spite of its beauty, appears as a superfluous appendage; and, nevertheless, it is an animated and living form which presents the indestructible harmony of the two principles, the soul and the body.
But a contradiction presents itself between the spirit and the material form. This harmonious whole conceals a principle of destruction which will make itself felt more and more. We may perceive in these figures an air of sadness in the midst of greatness. Though absorbed in themselves, calm and serene, they lack freedom from care and inward satisfaction; something cold and impassive is found in their features, especially if we compare them with the vivacity of modern sentiment. This divine peace, this indifference to all that is mortal and transient, forms a contrast with the moral greatness and the corporeal form. These placid divinities complain both of their felicity and of their physical existence. We read upon their features the destiny which weighs them down.
Now, what is the particular art most appropriate to represent this ideal? Evidently it is sculpture. It alone is capable of showing us those ideal figures in their eternal repose, of expressing the perfect harmony of the spiritual principle and the sensuous form. To it has been confided the mission of realizing this ideal in its purity, its greatness, and its perfection.
Poetry, above all, dramatic poetry, which makes the gods act, and draws them into strife and combat contrary to their greatness and their dignity, is much less capable of answering this purpose.
If we consider these divinities in their particular, and no longer in their general character, we see that they form a plurality, a whole, a totality, which is polytheism. Each particular god, while having his proper and original character, is himself a complete whole; he also possesses the distinctive qualities of the other divinities. Hence the richness of these characters. It is for this reason that the Greek polytheism does not present a systematic whole. Olympus is composed of a multitude of distinct gods, who do not form an established hierarchy. Rank is not rigorously fixed, whence the liberty, the serenity, the independence of the personages. Without this apparent contradiction, the divinities would be embarrassed by one another, shackled in their development and power. In place of being true persons, they would be only allegorical beings, or personified abstractions.
As to their sensuous representation, sculpture is, moreover, the art best adapted to express this particular characteristic of the nature of the gods. By combining with immovable grandeur the individuality of features peculiar to each of them, it fixes in their statues the most perfect expression of their character, and determines its definite form. Sculpture, here again, is more ideal than poetry. It offers a more determined and fixed form, while poetry mingles with it a crowd of actions, of histories and accidental particulars. Sculpture creates absolute and eternal models; it has fixed the type of true, classic beauty, which is the basis of all other productions of Greek genius, and is here the central point of art.