All nature is a vast symbolism; every material fact has sheathed within it a spiritual truth.--_Chapin._
"There is hopeful symbolism in the fact that flags do not wave in a vacuum."
There is hopeful symbolism in the fact that flags do not wave in a vacuum. -- Arthur C. Clarke
Suffering alone exists, none who suffer; The deed there is, but no doer thereof; Nirvana is, but no one is seeking it; The Path there is, but none who travel it. -- "Buddhist Symbolism", Symbols and Values
"There is hopeful symbolism in the fact that flags do not wave in a vacuum." -- Arthur C. Clarke
Eponine went to the Rue Plumet, recognized the gate and the garden, observed the house, spied, lurked, and, a few days later, brought to Magnon, who delivers in the Rue Clocheperce, a biscuit, which Magnon transmitted to Babet's mistress in the Salpetriere. A biscuit, in the shady symbolism of prisons, signifies: Nothing to be done.
At the consecration of a bishop the consecrating prelate puts the gloves on the new bishop immediately after the mitre, with a prayer that his hands may be kept pure, so that the sacrifice he offers may be as acceptable as the gift of venison which Jacob, his hands wrapped in the skin of kids, brought to Isaac. This symbolism (as in the case of the other vestments) is, however, of late growth. The liturgical use of gloves itself cannot, according to Father Braun, be traced beyond the beginning of the 10th century, and their introduction was due, perhaps to the simple desire to keep the hands clean for the holy mysteries, but more probably merely as part of the increasing pomp with which the Carolingian bishops were surrounding themselves. From the Frankish kingdom the custom spread to Rome, where liturgical gloves are first heard of in the earlier half of the 11th century. The earliest authentic instance of the right to wear them being granted to a non-bishop is a bull of Alexander IV. in 1070, conceding this to the abbot of S. Pietro in Cielo d' Oro. Entry: GLOVE
(B) Reliefs abound at this age, and include the most important evidences of the development of the art. The earliest examples are those of animals (Plate II. fig. 18) and shells on the colossi of Coptos. They show a keen sense of form, and the stag's head, which is probably the earliest, already bears an artistic feeling wholly different to that of any of the prehistoric works (P.K. iii. iv.). The carvings on slate palettes appear to begin with work crudely accurate and forceful, the heavy limbs being ridged with tendons and muscles (Plate II. fig. 19), but there is more proportion, with the same massive strength (Plate II. fig. 20). Soon after, with a leap, the artist produced the first pure work of art that is known (Plate II. fig. 21), a design for its own sake without the tie of symbolism or history. The group of two long-necked gazelles facing a palm tree is of extraordinary refinement, and shows the artistic consciousness in every part; the symmetric rendering of the palm tree, reduced to fit the scale of the animals, the dainty grace of the smooth gazelles contrasted with the rugged stem, the delicacy of the long flowing curves and the fine indications of the joints, all show a sense of design which has rarely been equalled in the ceaseless repetitions of the tree and supporters motive during every age since. Passing the various palettes with hunting scenes and animals (Plate II. fig. 22), we come to the great historical carving of King Narmer (Plate II. fig. 23). Here the anatomy has reached its limits for such work; the precision of the muscles on the inner and outer sides of the leg, of the uniform grip in the left arm, and the tense muscle upholding the right arm, prove that the artist knew that part of his work perfectly. The large ceremonial mace-heads recording the _Sed_ festivals of the king Narmer and another, belong also to this school; but owing to their smaller size they have not such artistic detail. With them were found many reliefs in ivory, on tusks, wands and cylinders. The main motive in these is a long procession of animals (Plate II. figs. 24, 25) often grotesquely crowded; but there is much observation shown and the figures are expressive. No drawing of this age has survived. Entry: B
The statues of the gods began either with stiff and ungainly figures roughly cut out of the trunk of a tree, or with the monstrous and symbolical representations of Oriental art. In the Greece of late times there were still standing rude pillars, with the tops sometimes cut into a rough likeness to the human form. And in early decoration of vases and vessels one may find Greek deities represented with wings, carrying in their hands lions or griffins, bearing on their heads lofty crowns. But as Greek art progressed it grew out of this crude symbolism. In the language of Brunn, the Greek artists borrowed from Oriental or Mycenaean sources the letters used in their works, but with these letters they spelled out the ideas of their own nation. What the artists of Babylon and Egypt express in the character of the gods by added attribute or symbol, swiftness by wings, control of storms by the thunderbolt, traits of character by animal heads, the artists of Greece work more and more fully into the sculptural type; modifying the human subject by the constant addition of something which is above the ordinary level of humanity, until we reach the Zeus of Pheidias or the Demeter of Cnidus. When the decay of the high ethical art of Greece sets in, the gods become more and more warped to the merely human level. They lose their dignity, but they never lose their charm. Entry: FIG
We may here notice the important chemical symbolism or notation introduced by Berzelius, which greatly contributed to the definite and convenient representation of chemical composition and the tracing of chemical reactions. The denotation of elements by symbols had been practised by the alchemists, and it is interesting to note that the symbols allotted to the well-known elements are identical with the astrological symbols of the sun and the other members of the solar system. Gold, the most perfect metal, had the symbol of the Sun, [*]; silver, the semiperfect metal, had the symbol of the Moon, [*]; copper, iron and antimony, the imperfect metals of the gold class, had the symbols of Venus [*], Mars [*], and the Earth [*]; tin and lead, the imperfect metals of the silver class, had the symbols of Jupiter [*], and Saturn [*]; while mercury, the imperfect metal of both the gold and silver class, had the symbol of the planet, [*]. Torbern Olof Bergman used an elaborate system in his _Opuscula physica et chemica_ (1783); the elements received symbols composed of circles, arcs of circles, and lines, while certain class symbols, such as [*] for metals, [*] for acids, [*] for alkalies, [*] for salts, [*] for calces, &c., were used. Compounds were represented by copulating simpler symbols, e.g. mercury calx was [*][*].[6] Bergman's symbolism was obviously cumbrous, and the system used in 1782 by Lavoisier was equally abstruse, since the forms gave no clue as to composition; for instance water, oxygen, and nitric acid were [*], [*], and [*]. Entry: I
The scene on Carmel is perhaps the grandest in the life of Elijah, or indeed in the whole of the Old Testament. As a typical embodiment for all time of the conflict between superstition and true religion, it is lifted out of the range of mere individual biography into that of spiritual symbolism, and it has accordingly furnished at once a fruitful theme for the religious teacher and a lofty inspiration for the artist. The false prophets were allowed to invoke their god in whatever manner they pleased. The only interruption came in the mocking encouragement of Elijah (1 Kings xviii. 27), a rare instance of grim sarcastic humour occurring in the Bible. Its effect upon the false prophets was to increase their frenzy. The evening came,[5] and the god had made no sign. Elijah now stepped forward with the quiet confidence and dignity that became the prophet and representative of the true God. All Israel is represented symbolically in the twelve stones with which he built the altar; and the water which he poured upon the sacrifice and into the surrounding trench was apparently designed to prevent the suspicion of fraud! In striking contrast to the "vain repetitions" of the false prophets are the simple words with which Elijah makes his prayer to Yahweh. Once only, with the calm assurance of one who knew that his prayer would be answered, he invokes the God of his fathers. The answer comes at once: "The fire of the Lord (Gen. xix. 24, Lev. x. 2) fell and consumed the burnt offering, and the wood, and the stones, and the dust, and licked up the water that was in the trench." So convincing a sign was irresistible; all the people fell on their faces and acknowledged Yahweh as the true God. This was immediately followed by the destruction of the false prophets, slain by Elijah beside the brook Kishon (xviii. 40). The deed, though not without parallel in the Old Testament history, stamps the peculiarly vindictive character of Elijah's prophetic mission.[6] Entry: ELIJAH
Under the absolutely liberating conditions of "process reproduction" (see PROCESS) the latest developments in illustration on its lighter and more popular side are full of French influences, or ready to follow the wind in any fresh direction, whether to America or Japan; but on the graver side they show a strong leaning towards the older traditions of the 'sixties and of Pre-Raphaelitism. The founding by William Morris of the Kelmscott Press in 1891, through which were produced a series of decorated and illustrated books, aimed frankly at a revival of medieval taste. In Morris's books decorative effect and sense of material claimed mastery over the whole scheme, and subdued the illustrations to a sort of glorious captivity into which no breath of modern spirit could be breathed. The illustrations of Burne-Jones filled with a happy touch of archaism the decorative borders of William Morris; and only a little less happy, apart from their imaginative inferiority, were the serious efforts of Walter Crane and one or two others. Directly under the Morris influence arose the "Birmingham school," with an entire devotion to decorative methods and still archaic effects which tended sometimes to rather inane technical results. Among its leaders may be named Arthur Gaskin, C. M. Gere and E. H. New; while work not dissimilar but more independent in spirit had already been done by Selwyn Image and H. P. Horne in the _Century Guild Hobby-Horse_. But far greater originality and force belonged to the work of a group, known for a time as the neo-Pre-Raphaelites, which joined to an earnest study of the past a scrupulously open mind towards more modern influences. Its earliest expression of existence was the publication of an occasional periodical, the _Dial_ (1889-1897), but before long its influence became felt outside its first narrow limits. The technical influence of Abbey, but still more the emotional and intellectual teaching of Rossetti and Millais, together with side-influences from the few great French symbolists, were, apart from their own originality, the forces which gave distinction to the work of C. S. Ricketts, C. H. Shannon, R. Savage and their immediate following. Beauty of line, languorous passion, symbolism full of literary allusions, and a fondness for the life of any age but the present, are the characteristics of the school. Their influence fell very much in the same quarters where Morris found a welcome; but an affinity for the Italian rather than the German masters (shown especially in the "Vale Press" publications), and a studied note of world-weariness, kept them somewhat apart from the sturdy medievalism of Morris, and linked them intellectually with the decadent school initiated by the wayward genius of Aubrey Beardsley. But though broadly men may be classed in groups, no grouping will supply a formula for all the noteworthy work produced when men are drawn this way and that by current influences. Among artists resolutely independent of contemporary coteries may be named W. Strang, whose grave, rugged work shows him a pupil, through Legros, of Dürer and others of the old masters; T. Sturge Moore, an original engraver of designs which have an equal affinity for Blake, Calvert and Hokusai; W. Nicholson, whose style shows a dignified return to the best part of the Rowlandson tradition; and E. J. Sullivan. In the closing years of the 19th century Aubrey Beardsley became the creator of an entirely novel style of decorative illustration. Drawing inspiration from all sources of European and Japanese art, he produced, by the force of a vivid personality and extraordinary technical skill, a result which was highly original and impressive. To a genuine liking for analysis of repulsive and vicious types of humanity he added an exquisite sense of line, balance and mass; and partly by _succès de scandale_, partly by genuine artistic brilliance, he gathered round him a host of imitators, to whom, for the most part, he was able to impart only his more mediocre qualities. Entry: ILLUSTRATION
_Gem-Engraving in the Later Empire._--In the following centuries the art of intaglio engraving, which was still at a high degree of perfection in the first century of the Roman empire, became more mechanical. The designs have a very characteristic appearance, due to the method of production with rough and hasty strokes of the wheel only. A collection of gems found in England, such as that in the possession of the corporation of Bath, shows the feeble character in particular of the gems current in the provinces. Except in portraiture, and in grylli or conceits, in which various things are combined into one, often with much skill, the subjects were as a rule only variations or adaptations of old types handed down from the Greeks. When new and distinctly Roman subjects occur, such as the finding of the head on the Capitol, or Faustulus, or the she-wolf with the twins, both the stones and the workmanship are poor. In such cases, where the design stirs a genuine national interest, it may happen that very little of artistic rendering will be acceptable rather than otherwise, and much more is this true when the design is a symbol of some article of faith, as in the early Christian gems. There both the art and the material are at what may be called the lowest level. The usual subjects on the early Christian gems are the fish, anchor, ship, dove, the good shepherd, and, according to Clemens, the lyre. Under the Gnostics, however, with whom there was more of speculation than of faith, symbolism was developed to an extent which no art could realize without the aid of writing. A gem was to them a talisman more or less elaborate with long, but for the most part quite unintelligible, engraved formulae. The difficulty is to make out how the stones were carried; many specimens exist, but none show signs of mounting. The materials are usually haematite or jasper. As regards the designs, it is clear that Egyptian sources have been most drawn upon. But the symbolism is also largely associated with Mithraic worship. The name Abraxas, or more correctly Abrasax, which, from its frequency on these gems, has led to their being called also "Abraxas gems," is, when the Greek letters of which it is composed are treated as Greek numerals, equal to 365, the number of days in a year, and the same is the case with [Greek: MEITHRAS]. Entry: 4
For the service of the church a comprehensive book of liturgies and offices was provided by the "apostles." It dates from 1842 and is based on the Anglican, Roman and Greek liturgies. Lights, incense, vestments, holy water, chrism, and other adjuncts of worship are in constant use. The ceremonial in its completeness may be seen in the church in Gordon Square, London, and elsewhere. The daily worship consists of "matins" with "proposition" (or exposition) of the sacrament at 6 A.M., prayers at 9 A.M. and 3 P.M., and "vespers" with "proposition" at 5 P.M. On all Sundays and holy days there is a "solemn celebration of the eucharist" at the high altar; on Sundays this is at 10 A.M. On other days "low celebrations" are held in the side-chapels, which with the chancel in all churches correctly built after apostolic directions are separated or marked off from the nave by open screens with gates. The community has always laid great stress on symbolism, and in the eucharist, while rejecting both transubstantiation and consubstantiation, holds strongly to a real (mystical) presence. It emphasizes also the "phenomena" of Christian experience and deems miracle and mystery to be of the essence of a spirit-filled church. Entry: CATHOLIC
A comparison of the Constitutions with the material upon which they are based will illustrate the compiler's method. (a) To begin with the _Didascalia_ already mentioned. It is unmethodical and badly digested, homiletical in style, and abounding in biblical quotations. There is no precise arrangement; but the subjects, following a general introduction, are the bishop and his duties, penance, the administration of the offerings, the settlement of disputes, the divine service, the order of widows, deacons and deaconesses, the poor, behaviour in persecution, and so forth. The compiler of the Constitutions finds here material after his own heart. He is even more discursive and more homiletical in style; he adds fresh citations of the Scriptures, and additional explanations and moral reflexions; and all this with so little judgment that he often leaves confusion worse confounded (e.g. in ii. 57, where, upon a symbolical description of the Church as a sheepfold, he has superimposed the further symbolism of a ship). (b) Passing on to books vii. and viii., we observe that the compiler's method of necessity changes with his new material. In the former book he still makes large additions and alterations, but there is less scope for his prolixity than before; and in the latter, where he is no longer dealing with generalities, but making actual definitions, the Constitutions of necessity become more precise and statutory in form. Throughout he adopts and adapts the language of his sources as far as possible, "only pruning in the most pressing cases," but towards the end he cannot avoid making larger alterations from time to time. And his alterations throughout are not made aimlessly. Where he finds things which would obviously clash with the customs of his own day, he unhesitatingly modifies them. An account of the Passion, with a curiously perverted chronology, the object of which was to justify the length of the Passion-tide fast, is entirely revised for this reason (v. 14); the direction to observe Easter according to the Jewish computation is changed into the exact contrary for the same reason (v. 17); and where his archetype lapses into speaking of a lull in persecution he naïvely informs us that the Romans have now given up persecuting and have adopted Christianity (vi. 26), forgetting altogether that he is speaking in the character of the apostles. Above all, he both magnifies the office of the Christian ministry as a whole and alters what is said of it in detail (for example, the deaconess loses rank not a little), to make it agree with the circumstances of his day in general, and with his own ideas of fitness in particular. It is here that his evidence is at once most valuable and needs to be used with the greatest care. To give one striking example of the value of these documents. The _Canones Hippolyti_ (vi. 43) provide that one who has been a confessor for the faith may be received as a presbyter by virtue of his confessorship and not by the laying on of the bishop's hands; but if he be chosen a bishop, he is to be ordained. This provision passes on into the Egyptian _Ecclesiastical Canons_ and other kindred documents, and even into the _Testamentum Domini_. But the corresponding passage in the Apostolical Constitutions (viii. 23) entirely reverses it: "A confessor is not ordained, for he is so by choice and patience, and is worthy of great honour.... But if there be occasion, he is to be ordained either a bishop, priest, or deacon. But if any one of the confessors who is not ordained snatches to himself any such dignity upon account of his confession, let the same person be deprived and rejected; for he is not in such an office, since he has denied the constitution of Christ, and is worse than an infidel." Entry: A
The nature of Maeterlinck's writings, whether in prose or verse, has been strictly homogeneous. Few poets have kept so rigorously to a certain defined direction in the practice of their art. Whether in philosophy, or drama, or lyric, Maeterlinck is exclusively occupied in revealing, or indicating, the mystery which lies, only just out of sight, beneath the surface of ordinary life. In order to produce this effect of the mysterious he aims at an extreme simplicity of diction, and a symbolism so realistic as to be almost bare. He allows life itself to astonish us by its strangeness, by its inexplicable elements. Many of his plays are really highly pathetic records of unseen emotion; they are occupied with the spiritual adventures of souls, and the ordinary facts of time and space have no influence upon the movements of the characters. We know not who these orphan princesses, these blind persons, these pale Arthurian knights, these aged guardians of desolate castles, may be; we are not informed whence they come, nor whither they go; there is nothing concrete or circumstantial about them. Their life is intense and consistent, but it is wholly of a spiritual character; they are mysterious with the mystery of the movements of a soul. These characteristics, which make the dramatic work of Maeterlinck so curious and unique, are familiar to most readers in _Pelléas et Mélisande_, but are carried, perhaps, to their farthest intensity in _Aglavaine et Sélysette_, which seems to be written for a phantom stage and to be acted by disembodied spirits. In spite of the violence of his early admirers, and of the fact that the form of his dramas easily lent itself to the cheap ridicule of parodists, the talent of Maeterlinck has hardly met with opposition from the criticism of his time. It has been universally felt that his spirit is one of grave and disinterested attachment to the highest moral beauty, and his seriousness, his serenity and his extreme originality have impressed even those who are bewildered by his diaphanous graces and offended at his nebulous mysticism. While the crude enthusiasm which compared him with Shakespeare has been shown to be ridiculous, the best judges combine with Camille Mauclair when he says: "Maurice Maeterlinck est un homme de génie authentique, un très grand phénomène de puissance mentale à la fin du xix
The first _Parnasse_ had been projected by MM. Xavier de Ricard (b. 1843) and Catulle Mendès (1841-1909) as a sort of manifesto of a school of young poets: but its contents were largely coloured by the inclusion among them of work by representatives of older generations--Gautier, Laprade, Leconte de Lisle, Banville, Baudelaire and others. The continuation, however, of the title in the later issues, rather than anything else, led to the formation and promulgation of the idea of a "Parnassien" or an "Impassible" school which was supposed to adopt as its watchword the motto of "Art for Art's sake," to pay especial attention to form, and also to aim at a certain objectivity. As a matter of fact the greater poets and the greater poems of the Parnasse admit of no such restrictive labelling, which can only be regarded as mischievous, though (or very mainly because) it has been continued. Another school, arising mainly in the later 'eighties and calling itself that of "Symbolism," has been supposed to indicate a reaction against Parnassianism and even against the main or Hugonic Romantic tradition generally; with a throwing back to Lamartine and perhaps Chénier. This idea of successive schools ("Decadents," "Naturists," "Simplists," &c.) has even been reduced to such an _absurdum_ as the statement that "France sees a new school of poetry every fifteen years." Those who have studied literature sufficiently widely, and from a sufficient elevation, know that these systematisings are always more or less delusive. Parnassianism, symbolism and the other things are merely phases of the Romantic movement itself--as may be proved to demonstration by the simple process of taking, say, Hugo and Verlaine on the one hand, Delille or Escouchard Lebrun on the other, and comparing the two first mentioned with each other and with the older poet. The differences in the first case will be found to be differences at most of individuality: in the other of kind. We shall not, therefore, further refer to these dubious classifications: but specify briefly the most remarkable poets whom they concern, and all the older of whom, it may be observed, were represented in the _Parnasse_ itself. Of these the most remarkable were Sully Prudhomme (1839-1907), François Coppée (1842-1908) and Paul Verlaine (1844-1896). The first (_Stances et poèmes_, 1865, _Vaines Tendresses_, 1875, _Bonheur_, 1888, &c.) is a philosophical and rather pessimistic poet who has very strongly rallied the suffrages of the rather large present public who care for the embodiment of these tendencies in verse; the second (_La Grève des forgerons_, 1869, _Les Humbles_, 1872, _Contes et vers_, 1881-1887, &c.) a dealer with more generally popular subjects in a more sentimental manner; and the third (_Sagesse_, 1881, _Parallèlement_, 1889, _Poèmes saturniens_, including early work, 1867-1890), by far the most original and remarkable poet of the three, starting with Baudelaire and pushing farther the fancy for forbidden subjects, but treating both these and others with wonderful command of sound and image-suggestion. Verlaine in fact (he was actually well acquainted with English) endeavoured, and to a small extent succeeded in the endeavour, to communicate to French the vague suggestion of visual and audible appeal which has characterized English poetry from Blake through Coleridge. Others of the original Parnassiens who deserve mention are Albert Glatigny (1839-1873), a Bohemian poet of great talent who died young; Stéphane Mallarmé (1842-1898), afterwards chief of the Symbolists, also a true poet in his way, but somewhat barren, and the victim of pose and trick; José Maria de Heredia (1842-1905), a very exquisite practitioner of the sonnet but with perhaps more art than matter in him; Henri Cazalis (1840-1909), who long afterwards, under his name of Jean Lahor, appeared as a Symbolist pessimist; A. Villiers de l'Isle-Adam, another eccentric but with a spark of genius; Emmanuel des Essarts; Auguste de Châtillon (1810-1882); Léon Dierx (b. 1838) who, after producing even less than Mallarmé, succeeded him as Symbolist chief; Jean Aicard (b. 1848), a southern bard of merit; and lastly Catulle Mendès himself, who has been a brilliant writer in verse and prose ever since, and whose _Mouvement poétique français de 1867 à 1900_ (1903), an official report largely amplified so that it is in fact a history and dictionary of French poetry during the century, forms an almost unique work of reference on the subject. Among the later recruits the most specially noticeable was Armand Silvestre (1837-1901), whose verse (_La Chanson des heures_, 1878, _Ailes d'or_, 1880, _La Chanson des étoiles_, 1885), of an ethereal beauty, was contrasted with prose admirably written and sometimes most amusing, but "Pantagruelist," and more, in manners and morals. This declension from poetry to prose fiction was also noticeable in Guy de Maupassant, André Theuriet, Anatole France and even Alphonse Daudet. Entry: _1789