These arguments are sound, doubtless, and, above all, of extraordinary novelty.  But it is not our place to reply to them.  We are constructing no system here—­God protect us from systems!  We are stating a fact.  We are a his torian, not a critic.  Whether the fact is agreeable or not matters little, it is a fact.  Let us resume, therefore, and try to prove that it is of the fruitful union of the grotesque and the sublime types that modern genius is born—­so complex, so diverse in its forms, so inexhaustible in its creations, and therein directly opposed to the uniform simplicity of the genius of the ancients, let us show that that is the point from which we must set out to establish the real and radical difference between the two forms of literature.

Not that it is strictly true that comedy and the grotesque were entirely unknown to the ancients.  In fact, such a thing would be impossible.  Nothing grows without a root, the germ of the second epoch always exists in the first.  In the Iliad Thersites and Vulcan furnish comedy, one to the mortals, the other to the gods.  There is too much nature and originality in the Greek tragedy for there not to be an occasional touch of comedy in it.  For example, to cite only what we happen to recall, the scene between Menelaus and the portress of the palace. (Helen, Act I), and the scene of the Phrygian (Orestes, Act IV) The Tritons, the Satyrs, the Cyclops are grotesque, Polyphemus is a terrifying, Silenus a farcical grotesque.

But one feels that this part of the art is still in its infancy.  The epic, which at this period imposes its form on everything, the epic weighs heavily upon it and stifles it.  The ancient grotesque is timid and forever trying to keep out of sight.  It is plain that it is not on familiar ground, because it is not in its natural surroundings.  It conceals itself as much as it can.  The Satyrs, the Tritons, and the Sirens are hardly abnormal in form.  The Fates and the Harpies are hideous in their attributes rather than in feature; the Furies are beautiful, and are called Eumenides, that is to say, gentle, beneficent.  There is a veil of grandeur or of divinity over other grotesques.  Polyphemus is a giant, Midas a king, Silenus a god.

Thus comedy is almost imperceptible in the great epic ensemble of ancient times.  What is the barrow of Thespis beside the Olympian chariots?  What are Aristophanes and Plautus, beside the Homeric colossi, AEschylus, Sophocles, Euripides?  Homer bears them along with him, as Hercules bore the pygmies, hidden in his lion’s skin!