symbolism (which has no consciousness of itself) in this that the artist comprehends perfectly the idea which he wishes to develop, as well as the image of which he makes use under the form of comparison; thus it is with reflection and by design that he combines the two terms according to the similarity he has found in them. This class differs from the sublime in two particulars: 1st. Not only the distinction of the two terms, but also the parallel between them, is more or less formally expressed; 2d. It is no longer the absolute, but some finite object which is the source of representation. Thus, in the same way, the contrast which gives birth to the sublime disappears and is replaced by a relation which, notwithstanding the separation of the two terms, approaches rather to that which the naïve and primitive symbol establishes after its own peculiar fashion.

Hence it is no longer the absolute, the infinite Being, which these forms express. The ideas represented are borrowed from the circle of the finite. In sacred poetry, on the contrary, the idea of God is the only one which has a meaning by and for itself; created beings are, in His presence, vanishing existences, pure nothingness.

The idea-in order to find its faithful image and proper term of comparison in what is essentially limited-finite, must itself be of a finite nature.

Besides, though the image may be foreign to the idea, and chosen arbitrarily by the poet, still similitude constitutes a law of their relative conformity. There remains, then, in this form of art, but a single characteristic of the sublime: It is that the image, instead of truly representing the object or the idea in itself and in its reality, must present only a resemblance or comparison of it.

Thus this form of art constitutes a class which is inferior, but complete in itself. It attempts no more than to find and to describe some sensuous object, or a prosaic conception, the idea of which must be expressly distinguished from the image. Further, in works of art which are constructed entirely upon one theme, and of which the form presents an undivided whole -as, for example, in the noteworthy productions of Classic

and of Romantic art-such work of comparison can serve only for ornament and as an accessory.

If, then, we consider this form of art in its collective totality as partaking at once of the sublime and of the symbol― of the first, because it presents the separation of idea from form; of the second, because the symbol presents the combination of the two terms united by virtue of their affinity-we are not to conclude that it is, therefore, a more elevated form of art; it is rather a mode of conception-clear, it is true, but superficial; which, limited in its object, more or less prosaic in its form, departs from the mysterious depth of the symbol, and from the elevation of the sublime, only to sink to the level of ordinary thought.

II. DIVISION.-The mode of division in this sphere is based invariably upon an idea, to which is related a sensuous image. But, though the idea may be the chief thing, still there is always a distinction here which must serve as our basis; and this is that sometimes the idea, sometimes the image, serves as point of departure. Whence we can establish two principal divisions:

1. In the first, the sensuous image-and this may be a natural phenomenon or a circumstance borrowed from human life-constitutes at once the point of departure and the essential phase of the representation. This image, it is true, is presented only because of the general idea; but comparison is not therein expressly announced as the end which the artist proposes to himself. It is not a simple decoration in a work which might do without such ornaments; its ambition is rather to constitute a totality complete in itself. In this species we may note the following varieties, viz.: The Fable, the Parable, the Apologue, the Proverb, and the Metamorphosis.

2. In the second division the idea is the first term which presents itself to the mind. The image is only accessory; it has no independence, and appears to us entirely subordinated to the idea. Thus the arbitrary will of the artist, who has fixed his choice upon this image, and not upon another, nevertheless appears. It is scarcely possible that this species of

representation should produce independent works of art; it must be content with incorporating its forms, as simple accessories, with other productions of art. As its principal varieties we can admit: the Enigma, the Metaphor, the Image, and the Comparison.

3. In the third place, finally, we may mention, by way of appendix, Didactic Poetry and Descriptive Poetry.

In the first of these classes of poetry, indeed, the idea is developed in itself, in its generality, such as consciousness seizes it in its rational clearness. In the second, the representation of objects under their sensuous form is, in itself, the end; whence are found to be completely separated the two elements, of which the perfect combination and fusion. produce genuine works of art.

Now, the separation of the two elements which constitute a work of art entails this consequence: That the different forms which find their place in this circle belong almost wholly to that art whose mode of expression is speech. Poetry alone, indeed, can express this distinction and this independence of the idea from the form; while it is in the nature of the figurative arts to manifest the idea in its external form as such.

I. Comparisons which Commence with the Sensuous Image.

1. The Fable.-2. The Parable, the Proverb, and the Apologue.-3. Metamorphoses.

1. The Fable is a description of a scene from nature, taken as a symbol which expresses a general idea, and whence we draw a moral lesson, a precept of practical wisdom. It is not here, as in the mythological fable, the divine will which manifests itself to man by natural signs and their religious meanings; it is an ordinary succession of phenomena whence may be drawn, in a manner altogether human and rational, a moral principle, a warning, a lesson, a rule of prudence, and which, for this very reason, is proposed to us and placed before our eyes.

Such is the position which we can here assign to the class of fables to which Æsop in particular has given his name.

The Æsopic fable, in its original form, presents such a conception as the foregoing, of a natural relation or phenomenon between actual objects of nature generally-for the most part between animals, of which the instincts take root in the same necessities of life which move living men. This relation or phenomenon, therefore, considered only in its general characteristics, is of such kind that it can also be admitted into the circle of human life, and it is through this connection that it first obtains a real significance for man.

a. The first condition is, then, that the determinate fact which is to furnish the moral should not be imagined at pleasure, nor, above all, in a sense opposite to that in which such incidents actually occur in nature.

b. The story must relate the fact, not in its generality, but with its character of individuality as a real, historical event; which does not prevent its being taken as a type of every event of the same class. This primitive form of the fable gives to it the greatest naïveté, because the didactic aim appears only at the close (tardivement), and not as if premeditated and sought after by design. Thus, among the fables attributed to Esop, those which offer the greatest attractiveness are such as present these characteristics. But it is easy to see that the Fabula docet takes away from the life of the picture and renders it dull or obscure, so that often the very opposite doctrine, or a much more important one than that presented, might be inferred.

As to Esop himself, it is said that he was a deformed slave. According to accounts given, he lived in Phrygia, in a country which forms the transition out of real symbolism that is to say, from the state where man is held in the bouds of nature to a more advanced civilization, where man begins to comprehend and appreciate freedom of spirit. Thus, far from resembling the Hindus and the Egyptians, who regard everything that belongs to the animal kingdom, and to nature in general, as something divine, the fabulist views all these things with prosaic eyes. He sees only phenomena of which the analogy with those of the moral world served solely to give light respecting the proper conduct of life. Still, his ideas are merely

ingenious fancies, without energy of spirit, or depth of insight, or substantial intuition-without poetry or philosophy. His reflections and his teachings are full of meaning and of wisdom; but they are, after all, only serious meditations on minor matters. These are not the free creations of a spirit which displays itself without constraint, but of one which is restricted to seizing, in the facts which nature. herself furnishes him in the instincts and propensities of animals in minor daily incidentssome phase immediately applicable to human life, because such spirit dares not openly expose the lesson in itself. It is content with veiling it, with leaving it to be understood; it is like an enigma which must always be accompanied by a solution. Prose commences in the mouth of a slave. Similarly the class itself is altogether prosaic.

Nevertheless, these ancient productions of the human spirit have extended to almost all ages and all peoples. Whatever may be the number of fabulists of whom any nation possessing the fable in its literature may boast, these effusions are, for the most part, only reproductions of primitive fables merely translated into the taste of each epoch. Whatever the fabulists have added to the hereditary stock, or whatever can be considered as their invention, must, in the main, be esteemed as far inferior to primitive conceptions.

2. The Parable, the Proverb, and the Apologue.-a. The Parable resembles the fable in so far as, like that, it borrows its examples from common life. It is distinguished from it in that it seeks such incidents, not in nature and in the animal kingdom, but in the acts and circumstances of human life, as these commonly present themselves to all eyes. It enlarges the compass of the fact chosen, which seems in itself of little importance, extends its meaning to a more general interest, and allows a more elevated purpose to appear.

We might consider the means employed by Cyrus to bring about a revolt of the Persians as a parable composed with a view to an entirely practical end (Herod I. C. CXXVI). He wrote them that they should assemble, provided with sickles, at a place designated by himself. The first day he made them clear a field covered with thorns; the day following,