Such are the principal subjects which form the ground of religious art. It is the Christian ideal in whatever in it is most elevated. Art seizes it and seeks to express it—but does this only imperfectly. Art is here necessarily surpassed by the religious thought, and ought to recognize its own insufficiency.
If we pass from the religious to the profane ideal, it presents itself to us under two different forms. The one, although representing human personality, yet develops noble and elevated sentiments, which combine with moral or religious ideas. The other shows us only persons who display, in the pursuit of purely human and positive interests, independence and energy of character. The first is represented by chivalry. When we come to examine the nature and the principle of the chivalric ideal, we see that what constitutes its content is, in fact, personality. Here, man abandons the state of inner sanctification, the contemplative for the active life. He casts his eyes about him and seeks a theatre for his activity. The fundamental principle is always the same, the soul, the human person, pursuing the infinite. But it turns toward another sphere, that of action and real life. The Ego is replete with self only, with its individuality, which, in its eyes, is of infinite value. It attaches little importance to general ideas, to interests, to enterprises which have for object general order. Three sentiments, in the main, present this personal and individual character, honor, love, and fidelity. Moreover, separate or united, they form, aside from the religious relationships which can be reflected in them, the true content of chivalry.
The author analyzes these three sentiments; he shows in what they differ from the analogous sentiments or qualities in antique art. He endeavors, above all, to prove that they represent, in fact, the side of human personality, with its infinite and ideal character. Thus honor does not resemble bravery, which exposes itself for a common cause. Honor fights only to make itself known or respected, to guarantee the inviolability of the individual person. In like manner love, also, which constitutes the centre of the circle, is only the accidental passion of one person for another person. Even when this passion is idealized by the imagination and ennobled by depth of sentiment, it is not yet the ethical bond of the family and of marriage. Fidelity presents the moral character in a higher degree, since it is disinterested; but it is not addressed to the general good of society in itself; it attaches itself exclusively to the person of a master. Chivalric fidelity understands perfectly well, besides, how to preserve its advantages and its rights, the independence and the honor of the person, who is always only conditionally bound. The basis of these three sentiments is, then, free personality. This is the most beautiful part of the circle which is found beyond religion, properly so-called. All here has for immediate end, man, with whom we can sympathize through the side of personal independence. These sentiments are, moreover, susceptible of being placed in connection with religion in a multitude of ways, as they are able to preserve their independent character.
“This form of romantic art was developed in the East and in the West, but especially in the West, that land of reflection, of the concentration of the spirit upon itself. In the East was accomplished the first expansion of liberty, the first attempt toward enfranchisement from the finite. It was Mahometanism which first swept from the ancient soil all idolatry, and religions born of the imagination. But it absorbed this internal liberty to such a degree that the entire world for it was effaced; plunged in an intoxication of ecstacy, the oriental tastes in contemplation the delights of love, calmness, and felicity.” (Page 456.)
3. We have seen human personality developing itself upon the theatre of real life, and there displaying noble, generous sentiments, such as honor, love and fidelity. Meanwhile it is in the sphere of real life and of purely human interests that liberty and independence of character appear to us. The ideal here consists only in energy and perseverance of will, and passion as well as independence of character. Religion and chivalry disappear with their high conceptions, their noble sentiments, and their thoroughly ideal objects. On the contrary, what characterizes the new wants, is the thirst for the joys of the present life, the ardent pursuit of human interests in what in them is actual, determined, or positive. In like manner, in the figurative arts, man wishes objects to be represented in their palpable and visible reality.
The destruction of classic art commenced with the predominance of the agreeable, and it ended with satire. Romantic art ends in the exaggeration of the principle of personality, deprived of a substantial and moral content, and thenceforth abandoned to caprice, to the arbitrary, to fancy and excess of passion. There is left further to the imagination of the poet only to paint forcibly and with depth these characters; to the artist, only to imitate the real; to the spirit, to exhibit its rigor in piquant combinations and contrasts.
This tendency is revealed under three principal forms: 1st, Independence of individual character, pursuing its proper ends, its particular designs, without moral or religious aim; 2d, the exaggeration of the chivalric principle, and the spirit of adventure; 3d, the separation of the elements, the union of which constitutes the very idea of art, through the destruction of art itself,—that is to say, the predilection for common reality, the imitation of the real, mechanical ability, caprice, fancy, and humor.
The first of these three points furnishes to Hegel the occasion for a remarkable estimate of the characters of Shakspeare, which represent, in an eminent degree, this phase of the Romantic ideal. The distinctive trait of character of the dramatis personæ of Shakspeare is, in fact, the energy and obstinate perseverance of a will which is exclusively devoted to a specific end, and concentrates all its efforts for the purpose of realizing it. There is here no question either of religion or of moral ideas. They are characters placed singly face to face with each other, and their designs, which they have spontaneously conceived, and the execution of which they pursue with the unyielding obstinacy of passion. Macbeth, Othello, Richard III., are such characters. Others, as Romeo, Juliet, and Miranda, are distinguished by an absorption of soul in a unique, profound, but purely personal sentiment, which furnishes them an occasion for displaying an admirable wealth of qualities. The most restricted and most common, still interest us by a certain consistency in their acts, a certain brilliancy, an enthusiasm, a freedom of imagination, a spirit superior to circumstances, which causes us to overlook whatever there is common in their action and discourse.
But this class, where Shakspeare excels, is extremely difficult to treat. To writers of mediocrity, the quicksand is inevitable. They risk, in fact, falling into the insipid, the insignificant, the trivial, or the repulsive, as a crowd of imitators have proven.
It has been vouchsafed only to a few great masters to possess enough genius and taste to seize here the true and the beautiful, to redeem the insignificance or vulgarity of the content by enthusiasm and talent, by the force and energy of their pencil and by a profound knowledge of human passions.