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. One of the characteristics of romantic art is, that, in the religious sphere, the soul, finding for itself satisfaction in itself, has no need to develop itself in the external world. On the other hand, when the religious idea no longer makes itself felt, and when the free will is no longer dependent, except on itself, the _dramatis personæ_ pursue aims wholly individual in a world where all appears arbitrary and accidental, and which seems abandoned to itself and delivered up to chance. In its irregular pace, it presents a complication of events, which intermingle without order and without cohesion. Moreover, this is the form which events affect in romantic, in opposition to classic art, where the actions and events are bound to a common end, to a true and necessary principle which determines the form, the character, and the mode of development of external circumstances. In romantic art, also, we find general interests, moral ideas; but they do not ostensibly determine events; they are not the ordering and regulating principle. These events, on the contrary, preserve their free course, and affect an accidental form.