But spirit can not rest in this precise accord of the form and the idea, in which the infinite and the finite blend. When it comes to be reflected upon itself, to penetrate farther into the depths of its inner nature, to take cognizance of its spirituality and its freedom, then the idea of the infinite appears to it stripped of the natural forms which envelop it. This idea, present in all its conceptions, can no longer be perfectly expressed by the forms of the finite world; it transcends them, and then this unity, which constitutes the characteristic of classic art, is broken. External forms, sensuous images, are no longer adequate to the expression of the soul and its free spirituality. I. Of Symbolic Art. After these general considerations, Hegel treats successively the different forms of art. Before speaking of symbolic art, he furnishes an exposition of the _symbol_ in general. The symbol is an image which represents an idea. It is distinguished from the signs of language in this, that between the image, and the idea which it represents, there is a natural relation, not an arbitrary or conventional one. It is thus that the lion is the symbol of courage; the circle, of eternity; the triangle, of the Trinity. The symbol, however, does not represent the idea perfectly, but by a single side. The lion is not merely courageous; the fox, cunning. Whence it follows that the symbol, having many meanings, is equivocal. This ambiguity ceases only when the two terms are conceived separately and then brought into relation; the symbol then gives place to _comparison_. Thus conceived, the symbol, with its enigmatic and mysterious character, is peculiarly adapted to an entire epoch of history, to oriental art and its extraordinary creations. It characterizes that order of monuments and emblems by which the people of the East have sought to express their ideas, and have been able to do it only in an equivocal and obscure manner. These works of art present to us, instead of beauty and regularity, a strange, imposing, fantastic aspect. In the development of this form of art in the East, many degrees are noticeable. Let us first examine its origin. The sentiment of art, like the religious sentiment or scientific curiosity, is born of _wonder_. The man who is astonished at nothing lives in a state of imbecility and stupidity. This state ceases when his spirit, freeing itself from matter and from physical wants, is struck by the spectacle of the phenomena of nature, and seeks their meaning, when it has the presentiment of something grand and mysterious in them, of a concealed power which is revealed there. Then it experiences also the need of representing that inner sentiment of a general and universal power. Particular objects—the elements, the sea, rivers, mountains—lose their immediate sense and significance, and become for spirit images of this invisible power.