R PROPHETS OF TODAY CORNELL UNIVERSITY LIBRARY »-«,-.' BEQUEST WILLIAM P. CHAPMAN, Jr. Class of 1895 1947 *JK)1 l *i - i(*7>'/' DATE DUE «io'i3 .- J - =7 t^ -MBi " GAYLORD "RINTEO IN U S.J ' "lUiSuiHufbif Edwrn E - Sl j orin 3 1924 029 787 417 The original of this book is in the Cornell University Library. There are no known copyright restrictions in the United States on the use of the text. http://www.archive.org/details/cu31924029787417 MAJOR PROPHETS OF TO-DAY tl^6k9^C€^^O^f£/JL MAJOR PROPHETS OF TO-DAY BY EDWIN E. SLOSSON, M.S., Ph.D. LITERARY EDITOR OF "THE INDEPENDENT" ASSOCIATE IN THE COLUMBIA SCHOOL OF JOURNALISM AUTHOR OF "GREAT AMERICAN UNIVERSITIES," ETC. BOSTON LITTLE, BROWN, AND COMPANY 1914 IV ^t>ii(?b Copyright, 1914, By Little, Brown, and Company. All rights reserved Published, September, 1914 Set up and electrotyped by J. S. Cushing Co., Norwood, Mass. , U.S.A. Pressworkby S. J. Parkhill& Co., Boston, Mass., U.S.A. TO MY WIFE MAY PRESTON SLOSSON WHO WAS THE COMPANION OF MY PILGRIMAGE TO THE OLD WORLD IN SEARCH OF NEW PROPHETS THIS VOLUME IS AFFECTIONATELY DEDICATED PREFACE Each age has its own prophets, men who bring to it distinctive messages and present them in such effective form as to sway the currents of contem- porary thought. No age perhaps has had more diverse theories of life and the meaning of things presented to it than our own, and certainly none has ever given such an opportunity for the original thinker to reach quickly a world-wide audience as he can now through the medium of cheap books and free schools. This volume originated in my own desire to find out what was being said by certain persons who, I had reason to believe, were worth attention. But unless one is abnormally selfish, he always wants to introduce others to an interesting acquaint- ance. It is then simply as introductions that I would wish the following chapters to be taken. In one way or another such men are influencing the thought of all of us, but since we mostly get their philosophy at second hand — or at third, fourth, or wth hand — we fail to recognize its origin and are [vii] PREFACE apt to misconceive its intent. Ideas that reach us in fragmentary form, and often after multiple trans- lation through minds sometimes alien or hostile, are not very useful. It is always safer to drink at the source. I have endeavored to give some idea of the scope and character of each man's work, so that the reader may judge for himself whether it is profitable for him to follow up the acquaintance. If he does, he will find at the end of the chapter directions how to proceed further. We imagine we can understand a man better if we can see his face, even his photograph. This may be a superstition, but, if so, it is a superstition worth deferring to by one who aspires to be an in- terpreter. So in the summer of 1910 I went to see the six men included in this first volume in their homes, not with the hope of getting any new and unpublished opinions, not with the expectation of gaining a personal acquaintance that would give me any deeper insight into their mental processes, but merely to convince myself that they are flesh and blood, instead of paper and ink. If I can con- vince the reader of this, my purpose will be accomplished. In the choice of names to be included in the list, I was guided primarily by the idea that I should [ viii ] PREFACE be most likely to interest others in the men who have most interested me. Since the object of the book is to serve as an introduction to the works of the authors, not as a substitute for them, the choice was limited to those who have given expression to their philosophical views in a sufficiently popular form to be attractive to the general reader. It was necessary to select representatives of diverse types of thought, and it was not possible to confine the choice to the philosophical profession, for in our day philosophy has escaped from its classroom and often displays more activity outside than in it. So I have included men of science and letters as well as philosophers of the chair. The group comprised in this volume includes : Maurice Maeterlinck, dramatist and essayist, in- terpreter of the animate and inanimate world ; Henri Bergson, of the College de France, whose intuitive philosophy has been introduced into America by the late William James ; Henri Poin- care, of the French Academy, mathematician and astronomer; Elie Metchnikoff, director of the Pasteur Institute in Paris, author of studies in op- timistic philosophy; Wilhelm Ostwald, of Leipzig University, recipient of the Nobel prize for chemistry in 1909, founder of the Annals of Natural Philos- PREFACE ophy, and Ernst Haeckel, of Jena University, veteran zoologist, champion of Darwinism and Monism, author of the "Riddle of the Universe." In large part the chapters of this volume have appeared in the Independent during the last three years in a series under the general title of "Twelve Major Prophets of To-day", which includes similar articles on Rudolf Eucken, Bernard Shaw, H. G. Wells, G. K. Chesterton, F. C. S. Schiller, and John Dewey, and I am indebted to that periodical for the privilege of book publication. EDWIN E. SLOSSON. New York, March I, 1914. [xj CONTENTS CHAPTER PAGE I. Maurice Maeterlinck . I II. Henri Bergson . 44 III. Henri Poincare . 104 IV. Elie Metchnikoff . . • H7 V. Wilhelm Ostwald . • 190 VI. Ernst Haeckel . . 242 XI LIST OF PORTRAITS Maurice Maeterlinck . . Frontispiece Henri Bergson Page 46 Henri Poincare . " 114 Elie Metchnikoff " 150 Wilhelm Ostwald « 194 Ernst Haeckel " 248 [xiii] MAJOR PROPHETS OF TO-DAY CHAPTER I MAURICE MAETERLINCK Let us not forget that we live in pregnant and decisive times. It is probable that our descendants will envy us the dawn through which, without know- ing it, we are passing, just as we envy those who took part in the age of Pericles, in the most glorious days of Roman greatness and in certain hours of the Italian Renascence. The splendid dust that clouds the great movements of men shines brightly in the memory, but blinds those who raise it and breathe it, hiding from them the direction of their road and, above all, the thought, the necessity or the instinct that leads them. — "The Double Garden." It was half past seven in the morning of my last possible day in Paris, when the maid brought on the tray with my chocolate, a blue envelope addressed in the business-like writing of Maeterlinck ; the long expected and at last despaired of note confirming the invitation received in America to visit him at the Abbey of St. Wandrille, and setting five p.M; as the time. No chocolate for me that morning. The con- [i] MAJOR PROPHETS OF TO-DAY cierge and I put our heads together over a French railway guide, more baffling than Bullinger's, and we made up our minds that a train started in that direc- tion at nine, although where and when it made connections we neither of us could make out. From Rouen on, I would have to trust to luck, or to the Government railway service — much the same thing. The Gare St. Lazare is a long way from the Latin Quarter when one has got to make a train, but the cabman said he would make it, and he did. At Rouen, I discovered that in the course of the day one could get to Barentin, and from Barentin, a deliberate and occasional train went to St. Wandrille. But when I got to Barentin I found that the train was not going till the following day. It was getting near tea time and Maeterlinck seventeen miles away ! Barentin would, under other circumstances, have interested me on account of the incompatibility of temper between the town and its environment, a cotton-spinning, socialistic population in the midst of an ultra-Catholic agricultural community. But as I strolled about, I took no interest in anything until I came to a little automobile repair shop. Here I found a young man who knew where he could find a machine and promised to get me to St. Wandrille in time for tea, or burst a tire. [2] MAURICE MAETERLINCK It was a joy ride certainly, in one sense of the word, and, I suspect, in two. The road, such a road as we rarely see in this country, wound around the hills overlooking the valley through which the Seine twisted its way to the sea. The banks were flooded with the July rains, and the poplars were up to their knees in water. We gradually left behind us the smart brick houses of the new cotton aristocracy, and came into the older stone age. Along the rail- road, as I was sorry to see, the meadows were begin- ning to grow the most noxious of American weeds, big advertising signs, but we soon escaped them, and saw around us only the grass and fields through the double row of trees that lined the road. As we got away from town, my extemporized chauffeur made better time, and under the stimulus of the acceleration, I recited passages of Maeterlinck's dithyramb to " Speed ", for he was the first to perceive poetry in the automobile : The pace grows faster and faster, the delirious wheels cry aloud in their gladness. And at first the road comes moving toward me, like a bride waving palms, rhythmically keeping time to some joyous melody. But soon it grows frantic, springs forward and throws itself madly upon me, rushing under the car like a furious torrent whose foam lashes my face. . . . Now the road drops sheer into the abyss, and the magical carriage rushes ahead of it. The [31 MAJOR PROPHETS OF TO-DAY trees, that for so many slow-moving years have serenely dwelt on its borders, shrink back in dread of disaster. They seem to be hastening one to the other, to approach their green heads, and in startled groups to debate how to bar the way of the strange apparition. But as this rushes onward they take panic, and scatter and fly, each one quickly seeking its own habitual place ; and as I pass they bend tumultuously forward, and their myriad leaves, quick to the mad joy of the force that is chanting its hymn, murmur in my ears the voluble psalm of space, acclaiming and greeting the enemy that hitherto has always been conquered but now at last triumphs : Speed. Afterward, when I recalled this essay to Maeter- linck, he laughed heartily and said he had written it when he had only a three-horse power automobile, one of the first kind made and altogether unreliable. Now he has a big one ; also a motor cycle with which he makes fifty miles an hour, but I do not know that he is writing prose poems on the motor cycle yet. He is likely to be the first to do it, though, unless Rostand or Kipling get ahead of him, as they have in literary aviation : Rostand with a sonnet on the biplane and Kipling with his "Night Mail ", wherein he invents and teaches a new technical vocabulary without slackening speed. No wonder Kipling got the Nobel prize for idealistic literature. Maeter- linck, who received the same prize in 191 1, deserved [4] MAURICE MAETERLINCK it on the same ground, for he, too, is entitled to write after his name the degree of M. M., Master of Machinery. With the help of the machine, I got to the little village of St. Wandrille even before the appointed hour, so I had time to drop into the queer old church. This is a favorite resort of pilgrims from all over Normandy and not undeserving of its repute, if one may judge from the crutches, canes, and votive tablets left behind by those who have been cured or blessed. Ever since 684 a.d., when Wandregisilus left the French court and founded this retreat in the forest by the Seine, it has been noted for its relics. The ossuary department indeed makes a fine display; skulls, thigh bones, vertebrae, and phalanges, all laid out under glass and labeled neatly, as in a museum. Thirty saints I counted, some familiar like St. Thomas Aquinas, St. Clotilde, St. Genevieve, and St. Wulfranc. But most of those represented by relics or wooden statues were quite outside the range of my hagiography — St. Firmin, St. Mien, St. Vilmir, St. Wilgeforte, St. Pantoleon, and St. Herbland. The village church is too modern to interest any one but an American. The old abbey, dating in part from the twelfth century, and belonging now [5] MAJOR PROPHETS OF TO-DAY to Maeterlinck, is across the road. Ringing at the little arched portal in the wall, I was shown into the cloister ; very familiar it seemed to me, for I had a photograph of it in my room at home, a photograph showing three witches over a caldron, since it was taken when Maeterlinck's version of "Macbeth" was played here. "The cloister of St. Wandrille is without doubt one of the most magnificent monu- ments of the kind that has escaped the vandalism of recent times", says Langlois in the large volume he devoted to its architecture. 1 Until recently the monastery was in the hands of the Benedictines, but they were dispossessed by the French Government on the separation of Church and State in 1907, and the property offered for sale. It was about to be sold to a chemical syndicate for a factory, when Maeterlinck intervened and purchased it, possibly more to please his wife than himself, for he is in- different to surroundings, while she takes a keen delight in an artistic stage setting, not merely for the plays she enacts, but for daily life. For thus saving the abbey from commercial desecration, Maeterlinck received a parchment blessing from the Pope, but his later use of it as a theater was quite as offensive to Catholic sentiment. 1 " L'Abbaye de Fontenelle ou de Saint-Wandrille." Paris. 1827. [6] MAURICE MAETERLINCK Certainly no author has been housed more satis- factorily to his admirers than Maeterlinck. He had, in fact, pictured it in his youthful plays. It is a verification of his faith that a man creates his own environment. The surrounding forest, the old house with its long corridors, the garden where the broken pillars and arches of the buried temple ap- pear here and there among the vines and flowers, are the familiar scenes of all his dramas. All that is lacking is the sea, which is so often in his thoughts, and some dank, dark caves and dungeons under- neath. But Maeterlinck does not need nowadays such subterranean accessories, for he has passed through his Reign of Terror, and come up into the sunshine. It is curious that a man who is so modernistic in mind and who has shown so unique a power to idealize the prosaic details of the life of to-day, should place all his dramas in the historical or legendary past. But he always views the past as a poet, not as an archaeologist, giving merely some beautiful names and a suggestion as to scene setting, and leav- ing it to the imagination of the reader to do the stage carpentering. Determinist though he is, no one, not even James or Bergson, has been more bold in re- pudiating the right of the past to control our actions : [7] MAJOR PROPHETS OF TO-DAY In reality, if we think of it, the past belongs to us quite as much as the present, and is far more malleable than the future. Like the present, and to a much greater extent than the future, its existence is all in our thoughts, and our hand controls it ; nor is this true only of our material past, wherein there are ruins that we perhaps can restore, but also of those regions that are closed to our tardy desire for atonement, and, above all, of our moral past, and of what we consider to be most irreparable there. "The past is past", we say, and it is not true; the past is always present. "We have to bear the burden of our past", we sigh; and it is not true; the past bears our burden. "Nothing can wipe out the past", and it is not true; the least effort of will sends present and future traveling over the past, to efface whatever we bid them efface. "The in- destructible, irreparable, immutable past!" And that is no truer than the rest. In those who speak thus it is the present that is immutable and knows not how to repair. "My past is wicked, it is sorrow- ful, empty", we say again, "as I look back I can see no moment of beauty, or happiness or love ; I see nothing but wretched ruins. . . ." And that is not true, for you behold precisely what you yourself place there at the moment your eyes rest upon it. 1 While I was wandering in the cloister, puzzling over battered saints and mossy gargoyles, any dis- position I may have felt toward monastic meditation was dissipated by the appearance of a woman, not merely a woman, but a modern woman, one who has 1 From "The Past", by Maurice Maeterlinck. The Independent, March 6, 1902. [8] MAURICE MAETERLINCK gained vitality and initiative without losing the feminine graces, "the virile friend and equal com- rade", as Maeterlinck calls her. Her costume was not inharmonious with the surroundings, for it was vaguely medieval in appearance — a hooded robe of some heavy blue stuff, falling in long straight folds to her feet. It is not necessary to describe Madame Georgette Leblanc Maeterlinck, for Maeterlinck himself has done that, sketching equally her virtues and failings with a loving hand. 1 Her powerful influence over his thought he gratefully acknowledges in the pref- aces to his essays, and shows it by the frequent ref- erences in them to her opinions and personality. Monna Vanna, Joyzelle, and Mary Magdalene are roles written for her. We can tell when she came into Maeterlinck's life by the appearance of "the new woman" in his dramas; Aglavaine, who in- voluntarily overshadows and displaces the frail and timid Selysette, Ariane, the last wife of Blue Beard, who releases his other wives from the secret chamber where they were confined, not killed as earlier rumor had it. The imprisoned sisterhood, who are, by the way, the anaemic heroines of Maeterlinck's earlier period, Selysette, Melisande, Ygraine, Bellangere, • "The Portrait of a Lady", in "The Double Garden." [91 MAJOR PROPHETS OF TO-DAY and Alladine, refuse to follow Ariane to freedom; they prefer to stay with Blue Beard, so she goes out alone. But she does not slam the door like Nora in "The Doll's House." It is not necessary now- adays to slam the door. Madame Maeterlinck shows me the places she picked out for the scenes of "Pelleas and Melisande", for she is the inventor of a new form of dramatic art based on the discovery that audiences are easier moved about than castles, trees, and hills. Only the weather she cannot control, and the pathetic drama was played appropriately though incon- veniently in a rainstorm. 1 The ancient refectory which she used as the banquet hall in "Macbeth" was large enough to seat four hundred Benedictine monks at table. It is roofed and paneled with carved wood and lighted by a row of large pointed windows set with bits of very old stained glass. Here we are soon joined by M. Maeterlinck, a sturdy figure in Norfolk jacket and knickerbockers, for he is just in from a tramp in the woods with his dog. No, the dog was not his friend, Pelleas. Pelleas, as you should have remembered, died years ago, very young. 1 See her account of the performance in Century Magazine, January, 1911. [IO] MAURICE MAETERLINCK Some say that Maeterlinck has a Flemish peasant face. Some say a Flemish bourgeois face. Not being familiar with the physiognomy of either the peasantry or the bourgeoisie of Flanders, I cannot decide this delicate question. All I can say is that it is a face one could trust, the face of a man one would like to have for a friend. The eyes, wide open and wide apart, are clear and steady. His hair is getting gray, and he has in recent years shaved off his mustache, showing his straight, firm-set mouth and pleasant smile. His photographs do not do him justice, for none of them show him smil- ing — neither do his books. Early to bed and early to rise and much time spent in the open air have given him an erect carriage and a vigorous step. He is fond of boxing and has written an essay in praise of this sport. From the window of his study upstairs he points out to me his woodland stretching far up the hill, and he takes from his pocket the book that has oc- cupied his afternoon, a book of trout flies. But I am more interested in other things, in the big work- table that occupies the center of the study, littered with papers, a typewriter on the corner of it. The wall opposite the window is lined with books, and as I glance over them I see his own plays and essays ["J MAJOR PROPHETS OF TO-DAY translated into half a dozen languages, Carlyle's works, Vaughan's "English Mystics", and many volumes of natural science, poetry, and philosophy. M. Maeterlinck divines what I want most to see and takes down his Emerson, an old one-volume edition, in excruciatingly fine print, but manifestly well read, with numerous underlinings and as much annotation as the narrow margins would permit. It is curious that Emerson should have strongly influenced two such unlike men as Nietzsche and Maeterlinck. 1 But only the latter acquired his finest attribute, serenity of spirit. Maeterlinck also resembles Thoreau in his love for nature, though he makes no affectation of asceticism or hermitage. He spends his summers only at the Abbaye de St. Wandrille. In the winter he goes to the Riviera, to live with the bees and the flowers whose language he speaks. His winter residence is at Les Quatre Chemins, near Grasse, in the southeastern corner of the country. Here he is even more secluded than at St. Wandrille. He prefers the country to the city, not because he has any aversion to people in mass or to the mechanism of modern life, but because he dislikes lionization and publicity of all 1 For Maeterlinck on Emerson, see Poet Lore, Vol. io, p. 76, Jan- uary, 1898, and Arena, Vol. 16, p. 563, March, 1896. [12] MAURICE MAETERLINCK sorts. He would stifle in the atmosphere of a Pari- sian salon. He belongs to none of the literary coteries combined for mutual admiration and the reciprocal promotion of individual interests. He has never been what Verlaine used to call a "Cymbalist." As a mystic philosopher Maeterlinck finds a flower in a crannied wall sufficient to give him a clew to the secrets of the universe. Modern science, instead of killing mysticism, as was foreboded by despairing poets of the last century, has brought about a revival of it. This is quite natural, for mysticism is the verification of religion by the ex- perimental method, as ecclesiasticism is the veri- fication of religion by the historical method. The doctrine of evolution has given an intellectual basis and a richer content to the sense of the unity of nature, which is the force of mysticism. A weak poet, distrustful of his vision or of his own powers, fears science and flees from it. A great and coura- geous poet seizes science and turns it to his own uses. Tennyson and Sully-Prudhomme were among the first to perceive and to demonstrate the possibility of this. Maeterlinck, being of the generation born since the dawn of the scientific era, entered upon the inheritance of its wealth without having to pass through any storm and stress period to acquire it. [13] MAJOR PROPHETS OF TO-DAY No traces of the fretful antagonisms of the nineteenth century disturb the equanimity of his essays. He sees no conflict between the scientific and poetic views of the world. He looks upon it with both eyes open and the two visions fuse into one solid reality. Maeterlinck has been a leader in that character- istic movement of the twentieth century which might be called the reanimation of the universe. Time was, and was not so long ago but that most of us can remember it, when, terrified by the advance of science, man did not dare to call his soul his own. Naturally he denied a soul to the rest of the world. Animals were automatons ; plants, of course, un- conscious ; and planets and machines out of the question. Nature was subjected to a process suc- cinctly to be described as deanthropomorphization. To naturalists of the inanimate school an insect was not worth studying until it had a pin through it. Animals were only interesting when stuffed. Nowadays naturalists are going back to nature. They are leaving the laboratory for the woods. They have come to realize that studying zoology in a museum is like studying sociology in a ceme- tery. They have discovered that animals and plants possess not merely vitality, but individuality, [14] MAURICE MAETERLINCK and since man's real interest in the world he looks down upon has always been, though he has often denied it, because he hoped to see himself there, a new school of fabulists has appeared who hold the mirror of nature up to us as Esop and Pilpay did of old. , Among them there is no one, unless it be Kipling, who is the equal of Maeterlinck. Like Tyltyl, he wears the fairy button on his cap which, when touched, brings out the souls of things. And, as in " The Blue Bird ", the souls he has once released by the magic of his phrases from their material prisons do not get back again. They remain visible to us ever after ; not merely the souls of the dog and the cat, but of the bee, the oak, the bread, and the automobile. He shows us the cat as a diminutive but undomesticated tiger to whom we are nothing more than an overgrown and uneatable prey. We see through his eyes the cultivated plants as our dumb slaves, for "the rose and the corn, had they wings, would fly at our approach like the birds." Maeterlinck has recently been testing the think- ing horses of Eberfeld, the successors of Kluge Hans, and convinced himself of their ability to spell and cipher, even to extract the square root of big num- bers, a feat which Maeterlinck says he himself could [I5l MAJOR PROPHETS OF TO-DAY never learn at school. He does, however, draw the line at crediting the horses with telepathic powers. 1 "The Blue Bird" cannot escape comparison with its contemporary rival on the stage, " Chantecler ", but the similarity is superficial. They are as unlike in their philosophy as in their style. Maeterlinck has written a fairy story for children ; Rostand a satire for grown people. Maeterlinck conceals his depth of thought under a dialogue of simple and artless prose. Rostand disguises his trivialities in elaborate and artificial versification. "The Blue Bird" is really the offspring of "The Little White Bird", Mendel to the contrary notwithstanding. But Maeterlinck lacks the delicious humor with which Barrie had depicted his Peter Pan. Whether one who has read "The Blue Bird" will be disappointed when he sees it depends upon the vividness of his imagination. He will probably find that he has in reading it failed to appreciate the humor of the grotesque characterization of the minor characters, such as the Bread, Dog, Cat, and Sugar, but on the other hand he will find that he has pictured to himself such scenes as the Palace of Night and the Kingdom of the Future much more splendid and impressive than they appear on the 1 Metropolitan Magazine, May, 1914. [16] MAURICE MAETERLINCK stage. The play as performed at the New Theater in New York was not nearly so effective as at the Haymarket in London. ' "The Blue Bird" would go best as an opera. I wish somebody would set it to music. % The very impressive song of the mothers welcoming their children shows how much music might add to it. Debussy's dreamy and formless harmonies suited "Pelleas and Melisande", but the author of the "Domestic Symphony" alone could do justice to this kitchen drama. Only Strauss could fit Sugar and Milk with suitable motives, and give the proper orchestration to the quarrels of Cat and Dog, and Fire and Water. With Maeterlinck, personification is not accom- plished through falsification. His "Life of the Bee" is based on his own observation and wide reading, and is freer from error than many of the purely scientific books written on the subject. Such mis- takes in fact, as he makes, are accidental and never due to distortion or invention for the purpose of working in a poetic fancy or of pointing a moral. In fact, he does not point a moral. His nature studies teach no lesson unless it is the great lesson of kinship with nature. He does not, like Kipling, write an animal story with the aim of amending the [17] MAJOR PROPHETS OF TO-DAY budget bill or changing diplomatic relations. "The Life of the Bee" may be used as a socialistic tract. It may also be used as an anti-socialistic tract. "The spirit of the hive", as he interprets it, attracts some people and repels others. Lord Avebury, who is the leading English authority on ants and bees, is the head of the society for opposing socialism. Maeterlinck is not one of those who set up animals on their hind legs to act as schoolmasters to men. He finds nowhere outside of ourselves, neither in the heavens above nor in the earth beneath, that justice in which mankind instinctively and inevitably believes. He is as largely pragmatic as Sumner in his derivation of morality : Between the external world and our actions there exists only the simple and essentially non- moral relations of cause and effect. In the course of adapting ourselves to the laws of life we have naturally been led to credit with our moral ideas those principles of causality that we encounter most frequently. And we have in this fashion created a very plausible semblance of effec- tive justice, which rewards or punishes most of our actions in the degree that they approach, or deviate from, certain laws that are essential for the preserva- tion of the race. Within us there is a spirit that weighs only inten- tions ; without us a power that only balances deeds. 1 » "The Mystery of Justice", in "The Double Garden." [18] MAURICE MAETERLINCK This reads like a twentieth century supplement to Huxley's Romanes address. Maeterlinck's sense of justice is more outraged by the calamities that result from the carelessness and malevolence of man than the disasters of earth- quake and tempest. We are strange lovers of an ideal justice, he says ; we who condemn three fourths of mankind to the misery of poverty and disease, and then complain of the injustice of impersonal nature. And in reading a story of the "Arabian Nights", he is struck by the fact that the women of the harem, creatures trained to vice and condemned to slavery, give utterance to the highest moral precepts : These women, who forever are pondering the loftiest, grandest problems of justice, of the morality of men and of nations, never throw one questioning glance on their own fate, or for one instant suspect the abominable injustice whereof they are victims. Nor do those suspect it either who listen to them, and love and admire and understand them. And we who marvel at this — we who also reflect on justice and virtue, on pity and love — are we so sure that they who come after us shall not some day find in our present social condition a spectacle equally disconcerting and amazing. 1 ! Maeterlinck stands quite aloof from politics, but not because he is out of sympathy with the tendency 1 The Independent, January 3, 1901. [19] MAJOR PROPHETS OF TO-DAY of the times. He has faith in democracy in spite of his clear perception of its faults and dangers : In those problems in which all life's enigmas converge, the crowd which is wrong is almost always justified as against the wise man who is right. It refuses to believe him on his word. It feels dimly that behind the most evident abstract truths there are numberless living truths which no brain can foresee, for they need time, reality and men's pas- sions to develop their work. That is why, what- ever warning we may give it, whatever prediction we may make to it, the crowd insists before all that the experiment shall be tried. Can we say that, in cases where the crowd has obtained the experiment, it was wrong to insist upon it ? 1 It would surely have been highly dangerous to confide the destinies of the species to Plato or Aristotle, Marcus Aurelius, Shakespeare or Mon- tesquieu. At the very worst moments of the French Revolution the fate of the people was in the hands of philosophers of no mean order. 2 The thoroughgoing character of his democracy is emphasized by Professor Dewey in his lecture on "Maeterlinck's Philosophy of Life" delivered at Columbia University : " Emerson, Walt Whitman, and Maeterlinck are thus far, perhaps, the only men who have been habitually, and, as it were, instinctively, aware that democracy is neither a form of government nor a 1 " The Double Garden." s " The Mystery of Justice.'! [20] MAURICE MAETERLINCK social expediency, but a metaphysic of the relation of man and his experience to nature; among these Maeterlinck has at least the advantage of greater illumination by the progress of natural science." This democratic feeling seems to me to arise more from his mystical sense of the continuity of life than from personal disposition or political theory. In his earlier and more characteristic dramas, the persons are hardly more than talking symbols. Their looks and costumes are not described, either in the stage directions or in the dialogue. Their names — if he takes the trouble to give them names — are scarcely sufficient in some cases to indicate the sex. Their speech is language reduced to its lowest elements, excessively simplified, in fact, and full of the repetitions and incoherencies com- mon to stupid and uneducated people the world over. Maeterlinck himself calls them "marion- nettes", and says that they have the appearance of half deaf somnambulists just awakening from a painful dream. But these puppet people are divested of individu- ality for the purpose of reducing them to the common denominator of humanity. They are devoided of personal interest in order to prevent the attention of the spectator from being fixed upon them. They [21] MAJOR PROPHETS OF TO-DAY are made transparent so that we may look through them and perceive the external forces which control them. The dramatic poet, he says in the preface to his early dramas, "must show us in what way, in what form, in what conditions, according to what laws, and to what end our destinies are controlled by the superior powers, the unintelligible influences, the infinite principles of which, in so far as he is a poet, he is persuaded that the universe is full." Great poetry he regards as composed of three principal elements : First, verbal beauty, then the contemplation and passionate depiction of what really exists around us and in ourselves, that is to say, nature and feeling, and, finally, enveloping the entire work and creating its own atmosphere, the idea which the poet has of the unknown in which float the beings and things he evokes, of the mystery which dominates them and judges them and presides over their destinies. The critics were not altogether wrong when they called the characters of his earlier plays "mere shadows." But a shadow exists only when a bright light is cast on a real object. Maeterlinck's pur- pose is to make Plato's cave men aware of the drama that is being enacted behind their backs. The real action of these plays is not that seen on the stage. His dramas contain their message written in secret [22] MAURICE MAETERLINCK ink between the lines, and it becomes visible only when warmed by the sympathy of the reader. The performance of "Macbeth" at Saint-Wan- drille had a double interest. It introduced a novel form of the drama, and it added another to the many attempts to put Shakespeare into French. This select and household entertainment might be called "chamber pageantry", because it bears somewhat the same relation to the outdoor processionings now so popular as chamber music does to orchestral. Most of the incongruities which the critics pointed out ' are not inherent in the plan, but due to the fact that "Macbeth" is not adapted to such a setting any more than it is to the modern theater. Con- ceivably something more effective could be done in this line if a new play were written to fit the place and the cbnditions of enactment, requirements certainly not more exigeant than those of the Eliza- bethan stage. In this it would even be possible to keep strictly to the three unities, and play the scenes appropriately indoors and out, in daylight and dark. Madame Georgette Leblanc-Maeterlinck has been, as wives are apt to be, both a help and a hindrance to her husband. She has inspired some of his best 1 For a description of the performance see "A Realization of Macbeth" by Alvan G. Sanborn in The Independent, September 15, 1909. [23] MAJOR PROPHETS OF TO-DAY work and also embroiled him in interminable controversies with theatrical managers. "Monna Vanna" was written for her, so, very naturally, she wanted a monopoly of the title role, and when Debussy set "Pelleas et Melisande" to music as unearthly as the play, she insisted upon singing Melisande. But the Parisian managers, either be- cause they had protegees of their own or because they did not have a sufficiently high opinion of Madame Leblanc's capabilities as an actress and a prima donna, declined to take her, and M. Maeter- linck was not able to compel them to, or to prevent the production of the play and opera with other leading ladies. She did, however, finally sing the part both at home and in America, though she lost the distinction of creating it. But, at any rate, we owe to her assiduity a new translation of "Macbeth", which the London Times says "is the most conscientious effort to preserve the atmosphere of a Shakespearean play which has been attempted in French since M. Marcel Schwab's remarkable rendering of 'Hamlet.'" The difficulty of translating poetical language, wherein the sound and connotation of the words are as essential as their literal meaning, is admirably stated by M. Maeterlinck : [24] MAURICE MAETERLINCK The humble translators face to face with Shake- speare are like painters seated in front of the same forest, the same seas, on the same mountain. Each of them will make a different picture. And a trans- lation is almost as much an Hat d'dme as is a land- scape. Above, below, and all round the literal aad literary sense of the primitive phrase floats a secret life which is all but impossible to catch, and which is, nevertheless, more important than the external life of the words and of the images. It is that secret life which it is important to understand and to re- produce as well as one can. Extreme prudence is required, since the slightest false note, the smallest error, may destroy the illusion and destroy the beauty of the finest page. Such is the ideal of the con- scientious translator. It excuses in advance every effort of the kind, even this one, which comes after so many others, and contributes to the common work merely the very modest aid of a few phrases which chance may now and then have favored. He illustrates these variant views of the same landscape by bringing together all the different versions of a couplet, from Letourneur of the eight- eenth century to Duval, the latest translator of Shakespeare : "Strange things I have in head that will to hand Which must be acted ere they may be scann'd." "J'ai dans la tete d'etranges choses qui aboutiront a ma main ; et qu'il faut accomplir avant qu'on les medite." — (Maeterlinck.) "J'ai dans la tete d'etranges choses qui reclament Us] MAJOR PROPHETS OF TO-DAY ma main et veulent etre executees avant d'etre meditees." — (Francis- Victor Hugo.) "Ma tete a des projets etranges qui reclament ma main ; achevons l'acte avant d'y reflechir." — (Maurice Pottecher.) "J'ai dans la tete d'etranges choses qui passeront dans mes mains, des choses qu'il faut executer avant d'avoir le temps de les examiner." — (Guizot.) "J'ai dans ma tete d'etranges choses que ma main executera, et qui veulent etre accomplies sans me laisser le temps de les peser." — (Montegut.) "Ma tete a des projets qu'executera ma main; je veux les accomplir de suite, sans me donner le temps de les examiner de trop pres." — (Benjamin Laroche.) "J'ai d'etranges projets en tete qui veulent etre executes avant d'y reflechir." — (Georges Duval.) "J'ai dans la tete d'etranges projets, qui, de la, passeront dans mes mains ; et il faut les executer avant qu'on puisse les penetrer." — (Pierre Le- tourneur.) This couplet is in itself an argument for more freedom of translation than is customarily allowed. The choice of "scann'd" from among other words that would have expressed the idea as well or better was obviously dictated by the necessity of rhyming with ''hand", and this in turn was due to the desire to alliterate with "head." A translator, if he is to make as good poetry as the original author, must have an equal license. It is therefore not surprising to see that M. Maeterlinck [26] MAURICE MAETERLINCK has been most successful in preserving the spirit of the original where he has translated into rhyme instead of prose, for here the exactions of the French verse have forced him to a greater freedom. Here are fragments of the witches' songs : Paddock crie, "Allez, allez." Le laid est beau et le beau laid Allons flotter dans la brume, Allons faire le tour du monde, Dans la brume et l'air immonde. Trois fois le chat miaula Le herisson piaula. Harpier crie, "Voila ! voila !" Double, double, puis redouble, Le feu chante au chaudron trouble. In order that the reader may judge for himself whether the Belgian poet has succeeded in this effort to put Shakespeare into French, we quote a few passages of especial difficulty. The complete text is published in Illustration of August 28, 1909. Et, enfin, ce Duncan fut si doux sur son trone, si pur dans sa puissance que ses vertues parleront comme d'angeliques trompettes contre le crime damne de son assassinat. Et la pitie, pareille a un nouveau-ne chevauchant la tempete, ou a un cheru- bin celeste qui monte les coursiers invisibles de l'air, soufflerait l'acte horrible dans les yeux de tout homme jusqu' a noyer le vent parmi les larmes. [27] MAJOR PROPHETS OF TO-DAY "Tu ne dormiras ! Macbeth a tue le sommeil !" L'innocent sommeil, le sommeil qui devide l'echeveau embrouille des soucis. Tout l'ocean du grand Neptune pourrait-il laver ce sang de ma main ? Non, c'est plutot cette main qui empourprera les vagues innombrables, faisant de la mer verte un ocean rouge. Maeterlinck has himself suffered many things of many translators. Alfred Sutro has given us admirable versions of his philosophical works, "Wis- dom and Destiny", "The Treasure of the Humble", and "The Life of the Bee", but his plays have not been so fortunate, for their emotional effect is de- pendent upon the maintenance of a peculiar atmos- phere, so sensitive that a harsh breath will destroy it, leaving ridiculous wooden puppets where the moment before we thought we glimpsed beings of supernatural beauty. So even a reader whose French is feeble will prefer the plays in the original, for their language is of extreme simplicity and the effect may be even enhanced by the additional veil that his partial incomprehension draws across the stage picture. Then, too, Maeterlinck's trick of triple repetition which offends our Anglo-Saxon ears ceases to annoy us in French, for in that language even identical rhymes are permissible. As an example of how a prosaic literalism may [28] MAURICE MAETERLINCK spoil the illusion, let us take that exquisite passage which closes "Pelleas et Melisande" : C'etait un petit etre si tranquille, si timide et si silencieux. C'etait un pauvre petit etre mysterieux, comme tout le monde. Elle est la, comme si elle etait la grande soeur de son enfant. This is the way it is rendered by Laurence Alma Tadema, and the libretto of the opera is still worse : " It was a little gentle being, so quiet, so timid and so silent. It was a poor little mysterious being, like all the world. She lies there as if she were her own child's big sister." The wise old man, who at Melisande's death bed sums up her character in the words, "C'etait un pauvre petit etre mysterieux, comme tout le monde", gives at the same time the key to the philosophy of the play. — " She was a poor little mysterious being like every one." "Like every one" ! The phrase throws back a level ray of light, as though it were a setting sun, and illuminates the dark road we have traversed. "Like every one", and all this while we had been thinking what an unnatural and absurd creature this Melisande was, this princess who did not know where she came from or where she was going to, who was always weeping without reason, who played so carelessly with her wedding ring over [29] MAJOR PROPHETS OF TO-DAY the well's mouth, and whose words could never ex- press what she felt. "Like every one"? perhaps ... at any rate to be thought on, once it has been suggested to us. And in this connection we may consider a sentence in "Wisdom and Destiny" : Genius only throws into bolder relief all that can and actually does take place in the lives of all men ; otherwise were it genius no longer but in- coherence or madness. What fun Francisque Sarcey did make of "Pelleas and Melisande" and of its admirers at its first rep- resentation in Paris in 1893. According to the veteran critic of Le Temps? the play contained a triple symbolism ; one part not understood by the profane, one part not understood by the initiates, and one part not understood by the author. Maeter- linck was only a passing craze, he thought, due to the reprehensible fondness of the Parisians for any- thing foreign. Yet some fifteen years after that he might have seen in New York blocks of people standing for hours in the snow around the Man- hattan Opera House to get a chance to see, with the added charm of Debussy's music, this same play that the critics called "Maeterlinck's Sedan." Even Richard Hovey, who first introduced Maeter- 1 See his "Quarante Ans de Theatre." [30] MAURICE MAETERLNICK linck's plays to America in the days when the "Green Tree Library" flourished and bore its strange fruit, feared that "his devotion to the wormy side of things may prevent him from ever becoming popular." But he got over his devotion to the wormy side of things and has grown into a more wholesome philos- ophy and so into a greater popularity. The transi- tion point in his style and thought is marked by the preface to his dramas, 1901. He neither recants nor apologizes for his earlier work, still less does he ridicule it, as Ruskin did his first writing, but he frankly and gracefully indicates the changed atti- tude toward life which shows itself in his later essays. He ceases to use the word "destiny" exclusively in its evil sense, and to represent it as a power inim- ical to man, watching in the shadow to pounce upon us whenever we manifest a little joy. Fate in his later work does not always mean fatality, and events are controlled by character more than by external forces. Man by wisdom can overcome destiny. But Maeterlinck would have us take care to keep a sane balance of altruism and egoism : You are told you should love your neighbor as yourself ; but if you love yourself meanly, childishly, timidly, even so shall you love your neighbor. Learn, therefore, to love yourself with a love that is wise and healthy, that is large and complete. [31] MAJOR PROPHETS OF TO-DAY It is a curious transformation by which this Bel- gian lawyer and esoteric poet has become one of the widest known of French playwrights and moralists. He was born in Ghent, August 29, 1862, of an old Flemish family. The name, "measurer of grain", is derived from an ancestor who was generous in a time of famine. He was educated at the University of Ghent for law, in accordance with the wishes of his family, though he would have preferred medicine. But his dominant interest was always literature. His experience at the bar was brief, a couple of criminal cases, and then he deserted the law and went to Paris for a year, where he was chiefly under the influence of the French symbolist, Villiers de l'lsle-Adam. Then he returned home to devote himself in quiet to the cultivation of his double garden of literature and science. He was especially attracted by the freshness and richness of Shake- speare and his contemporaries, and, as he says, drank long and thirstily from the Elizabethan springs. In Shelley and Browning he was also deeply interested. 1 1 His admiration for Browning appears in his reply to Prof essor William Lyon Phelps, of Yale, who had called attention to the close similarity between an incident in Browning's "Luria" and Maeterlinck's "Monna Vanna." Maeterlinck very frankly and courteously acknowledged his indebtedness to Browning, whom, he said, he regarded, like Eschylus, [32] MAURICE MAETERLINCK At the age of twenty-four he began to contribute to La Pleiade, the organ of the "Young Belgians", a group of ambitious young writers, impressionists, seekers after novel effects of style, chiefly attained by means of transferring descriptive adjectives from one of the five senses to the other four. In the third number of this short-lived periodical was published Maeterlinck's first and apparently his last story, "The Massacre of the Innocents", a biblical incident reset in the times of the Spanish wars. 1 Here appeared some of the poems republished in 1889 in the little volume entitled "Serres Chaudes" ("Hot-house Blooms"). ■ The cross-fertilization of Elizabethan drama with French symbolism gave rise to the "Princess Ma- leine", a new species if there ever was one, Shake- spearean in form and incident, most un-Shake- spearean in everything else. The first edition of this drama was an extremely limited one, twenty copies, printed on a hand press with Maeterlinck turning the crank. Sophocles, and Shakespeare, as common sources of literary inspiration. The Independent, March 5 and June II, 1903. 1 This is signed by his name in its original form, Mooris Materlinck. A translation of this and other tales by Belgian writers by Edith Wingate Rinder was published in 1897 in the "Green Tree Library" of Stone & Kimball (now DufHeld & Co.). [33] MAJOR PROPHETS OF TO-DAY It was the "Princess Maleine" which led to his "discovery" by Octave Mirbeau, who proclaimed it "the greatest work of genius of the times", and "superior in beauty to what is most beautiful in Shakespeare." * This newspaper praise made Mae- terlinck instantly famous everywhere save in his own country. His neighbors in Ghent refused to take it seriously, and thought it a pity that his family should encourage the young man in his mania by paying for puffs like that. To trace Maeterlinck's dramatic development is like watching a materialization at a seance. His characters have become increasingly solid and life- like, but they have lost the illusiveness and allu- siveness that made their charm in his earlier plays. Maeterlinck has never been able to equal Ibsen — — nor has any one else — in the art of making a per- fectly individualized and natural character serve also as a type or symbol, thus doubling our interest by combining the specific and the general. Maeterlinck's genius shows best in his own peculiar field of symbolism and suggestion, that of his early dramas and of "The Blue Bird." His plays of a 1 Figaro, August 24, 1890. Octave Mirbeau later busied himself in booming Marguerite Audoux, the Paris sempstress, who wrote "Marie- Claire." [34] MAURICE MAETERLINCK more conventional type, "Monna Vanna" and "Mary Magdalene", betray his deficiencies as a dramatic writer, his lack of the power of plot con- struction and a sense of humor. " Mary Magdalene " is really as much a one-act play as "The Interior", for the last act is the only one that counts. Here the crowd has the star part, the crowd of the lame, the halt and the blind, the sinners and the diseased, whom Jesus has cured and who now desert him ; and the real drama is enacted, not in the upper chamber of the house of Joseph of Arimathea, but in the street outside, leading to the Place of the Skull. The scene of the woman taken in adultery is far less dramatic than in its biblical form, because in the play she is really protected by Roman swords, not by the awakened consciences of the mob. The continuous development of Maeterlinck's philosophy of life is shown as well in his plays as in his essays. Mary Magdalene, who would not save her Savior by the sacrifice of her virtue, represents a higher ethical ideal than Monna Vanna, who gives herself for the city. In his earlier plays Maeter- linck tries to frighten us with the traditional Terrors which in "The Blue Bird" are shown to be imprisoned and harmless in the Palace of Night. Old Time with his scythe, who as "The Intruder" of twenty [35] MAJOR PROPHETS OF TO-DAY years ago brought death into the household, appears now in "The Blue Bird" under a kinder aspect, calling the Children of the Future into life. In fact, "The Blue Bird" represents the highest point of the philosophy of optimism, for it is based upon the most daring of all the assumptions of science — that the secret of existence is also the secret of happi- ness. "To be wise is above all to be happy", says Maeterlinck. Truly, he has got a long way from Schopenhauer, the object of his boyish admiration. Maeterlinck has, in short, acquired a faith. I do not see exactly whom or what he has faith in, but he has faith, and that, after all, seems to be the main thing. The development of his thought has an especial interest in that it shows how a spiritual in- terpretation of the universe and a moral support can be built up on pure agnosticism. From Christi- anity he has derived little except a vague symbolism and certain ethical ideals. He looks back with bitterness upon his school days in the Jesuit college at Ghent, but his writings show no trace of the anticlerical animosity which is so conspicuous in Haeckel's. It was his latest book, "Death", the most religious of them all, breathing a spirit of uncon- querable faith in immortality and future happiness, that brought down upon Maeterlinck the con- [36] MAURICE MAETERLINCK demnation of Rome, and in 1914 all his books and plays were put upon the Index by the Sacred Congregation. From the mystics he has derived much, especially from the German Novalis and the Flemish Ruys- broek, whose works he has translated into French. In his preface to the latter he says : Mystical truths have this strange superiority over truths of the ordinary kind, that they know neither age nor death. . . . They possess the im- munity of Swedenborg's angels, who progress con- tinually toward the springtime of youth, so that the eldest angels always appear the youngest. But he undoubtedly owes his ethical and philo- sophical growth most of all to the study of nature, not the vague contemplation of natural objects which in the early Victorian era was thought proper pabulum for poets, but the effort to understand nature through the use of modern scientific methods. We are reminded of Sir Thomas Browne, who says : "Those strange and mystical transmigrations that I have observed in silkworms turned my philosophy into divinity." The reason why many poets and imaginative writers of high ability find themselves without in- fluence in the modern world is, in my opinion, be- cause they are ignorant of science or inimical to iu [37] MAJOR PROPHETS OF TO-DAY They, therefore, write for antiquity, which does not buy books, or for posterity, which, it is safe to say, will never come back to the position they hold. The people do not enjoy science, but their manner of thought is molded by it, and they are unaffected or repelled by music out of tune with it. Maeterlinck, while thoroughly appreciating science, does not exaggerate its power. He does not look to it for a complete explanation of the world. Rarely does a mystery disappear; ordinarily it only changes its place. But it is often very impor- tant, very desirable, that it manage to change its place. From a certain point of view, all the progress of human thought reduces itself to two or three changes of this kind — to have dislodged two or three mysteries from the place where they did harm in order to transport them where they become harm- less, where they can do good. Sometimes it is enough, without a mystery changing its place, if we can succeed in giving it another name. That which was called "the gods" is now called "life." And if life is just as inexplicable as the gods, we have at least gained this, that in the name of life no one has authority to speak nor right to do harm. Maeterlinck does not seem to me so much an original thinker as an exquisitely sensitive personality who is able to catch the dominant note of the times in which he lives, and to give it artistic expression, as a musician upon a high tower might take as his [38] MAURICE MAETERLINCK key the fundamental tone of the streets below, modu- lating his music as the rhythm of the city changes, not to obtain applause, but because his soul is in sympathy with the life around him. In Maeter- linck's writings, various though they be in form and topic, may be continuously traced the chang- ing moods of the philosophy of the last twenty years, for he has always retained his sincerity of thought and courage of expression. To look fearlessly upon life ; to accept the laws of nature, not with meek resignation, but as her sons, who dare to search and question ; to have peace and confidence within our soul — these are the be- liefs that make for happiness. But to believe is not enough ; all depends on how we believe. I may believe that there is no God, that I am self-contained, that my brief sojourn here serves no purpose ; that in the economy of this world without limit my exist- ence counts for as little as the evanescent hue of a flower — I may believe all this, in a deeply religious spirit, with the infinite throbbing within me; you may believe in one all-powerful God, who cherishes and protects you, yet your belief may be mean, and petty, and small. I shall be happier than you, and calmer, if my doubt is greater, and nobler, and more earnest than is your faith; if it has probed more deeply into my soul, traversed wider horizons, if there are more things it has loved. And if the thoughts and feelings on which my doubt reposes have become vaster and purer than those that sup- port your faith, then shall the God of my disbelief [39] MAJOR PROPHETS OF TO-DAY become mightier and of supremer comfort than the God to whom you cling. For, indeed, belief and unbelief are mere empty words ; not so the loyalty, the greatness and profoundness of the reasons where- fore we believe or do not believe. 1 How to Read Maeterlinck To those familiar with Maeterlinck, the following, and perhaps also the foregoing, will be of no interest. But those who wish to make his closer acquaintance may find some suggestions not impertinent. Maeterlinck's essays are published in English by Dodd, Mead and Company, in seven volumes : "The Treasure of the Humble"; "Wisdom and Destiny"; "The Buried Temple"; "The Measure of the Hours" ; "The Double Garden"; "On Emer- son and Other Essays " (Novalis and Ruysbroek) ; and "Our Eternity." The order given is that of their publication in French. Any one of them will give the reader an insight into the character of his thought; "Wisdom and Destiny" is the most con- secutive. If one has time for but a single essay, he may read "The Leaf of Olive." For his treatment of nature, see "The Life of the Bee" (Dodd, Mead and Company), essays in "The Double Garden" and in "The Measure of the Hours", and "The Insect's Homer" in Forum, September, 1 910; also "News of Spring and Other Nature Studies", illustrated by E. J. Detmold (Dodd, Mead and Company). 1 "Wiidom and Destiny," 5 79- l4°] MAURICE MAETERLINCK Of his dramatic work the early mystical plays are most characteristic. The timid reader should avoid reading them alone after dark. Yet there is nothing supernatural in them — except the sense of the supernatural that permeates them. Nothing hap- pens that cannot be given a rationalistic explanation — only the reader is not disposed at the time to accept such an explanation. Select your co-readers with care (all plays should, of course, be read aloud) ; avoiding particularly the hysterical giggler, for the effect depends upon maintaining the atmospheric pressure, and Maeterlinck treads close to the line that separates the sublime from the ridiculous and, as he himself confesses, he occasionally steps over. Read the original if you have any knowledge what- ever of French, for the language is of the simplest, and in these veiled dramas a slight additional hazi- ness does no harm. (The French edition is pub- lished by Lacomblez, Brussels, in three volumes. Volume I, "La Princesse Maleine", "L'Intruse", "Les Aveugles" ; Volume II, "Pelleas et Melisande", "Alladine et Palomides", "Interieur", "La mort de Tintagiles" ; Volume III, "Aglavaine et Selysette", "Ariane et Barbe-bleue", "Soeur Beatrice." Vol- umes I and II, translated by Hovey, are sold by Dodd, Mead and Company in three volumes.) If you are doubtful of your ability to read "the static drama", or of your capacity to enjoy it, begin with "The Interior (The Home)." Here the tragedy is enacted inside the house, while all the talking is done outside. If you find a fascination in it, pass on to "The In- truder" and "The Blind." This last affords un- limited scope to those who are fond of running down symbols. The dead priest in the middle of the group will stand for any form of ecclesiasticism you may [41] MAJOR PROPHETS OF TO-DAY have outgrown, and you can give the blind people around him the names of all the philosophers you know, according to the degree of their blindness and their reliance upon rationalism, intuitionalism, child psychology, animal psychology, etc., for a way out. But don't think you have to label them at all if you don't like to. To understand "The Blue Bird," all you have to do is to become a child. Then after you grow up again you may find that you understand it still better. It was first presented in Russia, where it was played by fifty-two companies. London and New York saw it before Paris, where it was put on the stage for the first time five years after it appeared elsewhere, with Madame Georgette Leblanc in the role of Light. (English version, Dodd, Mead and Company.) Maeterlinck has taken out the forest conspiracy because it scared the children, and substituted a new act containing one of his most original characters, the Happiness of Running Barefoot in the Dew, who is apparently a daughter of Doctor Kneipp. Madame Maeterlinck has prepared "The Blue Bird for Children " in story form for schools (Silver, Bur- dett and Company). "Mary Magdalene" is played by Olga Nethersole, but may be as well read as seen. "Monna Vanna" was prohibited by the Censor in England until 1914, but was played in this country by Bertha Kalich, with- out offense. The only play by Maeterlinck that is at all "Frenchy" is one he translated from the Eng- lish of John Ford. (Dodd, Mead and Company publish "Joyzelle" and "Monna Vanna", "Agla- vaine and Selysette", "Mary Magdalene", "Pel- leas and Melisande", "Princess Maleine", "The Intruder, and Other Plays", and "Sister Beatrice", [42] MAURICE MAETERLINCK and "Ariane and Blue Beard." Harper publishes "Monna Vanna"; Crowell published "Pelleas and Melisande"; R. F. Seymour, Chicago, publishes "Twelve Songs of Maeterlinck." Several of the plays can be found in back numbers of Poet Lore sold by R. G. Badger, Boston.) A comprehensive bibliography will be found in the life of Maeterlinck by Montrose J. Moses (Duf- field). We have also in English brief biographies by Gerard Harry (Allen and Sons) and J. Bithel (Scribner). The sketch by William Sharp in the "Warner Library of the World's Best Literature" is remarkable for its insight, and the reader may also be referred to Hunneker's "Iconoclasts", Thorold's "Six Masters of Disillusion", and the article on "Maeterlinck's Philosophy of Life", by Professor John Dewey of Columbia in the Hibbert Journal, July, 191 1. The lover of Maeterlinck, whose affection is capable of being alienated, should beware of read- ing the very clever parody on his style in Owen Sea- man's "Borrowed Plumes" (Holt). [43] CHAPTER II HENRI BERGSON The history of philosophy shows us chiefly the ceaselessly renewed efforts of reflection laboring to attenuate difficulties, to resolve contradictions, to measure with an increasing approximation a reality incommensurable with our thought. But from time to time bursts forth a soul which seems to triumph over these complications by force of simplicity, the soul of artist or of poet, keeping close to its origin, reconciling with a harmony felt by the heart terms perhaps irreconcilable by the intelligence. The language which it speaks, when it borrows the voice of philosophy, is not similarly understood by every- body. Some think it vague, and so it is in what it expresses. Others feel it precise, because they experi- ence all it suggests. To many ears it brings only the echo of a vanished past, but others hear in it as in a prophetic dream the joyous song of the future. These words, which Bergson used in his eulogy of his teacher, Ravaisson, before the French Acad- emy of Moral and Political Sciences, may be applied with greater appropriateness to Bergson himself. For he, far more than Ravaisson, has shown him- self an original force in the world of thought, and his philosophy also appears to some people reactionary [44] HENRI BERGSON in tendency and to others far in advance of any- thing hitherto formulated. But to all it appears important. "Nothing like it since Descartes", they say in France. "Nothing like it since Kant", they say in Germany. His lecture room is the largest in the College de France, but it is too small to accommodate the crowd which would hear him. They begin to gather at half-past three for the five o'clock lecture, though they have to listen to a polit- ical economist to hold their seats. A cosmopolitan crowd it is that on Wednesdays awaits the lecturer, talking more languages than have ordinarily been heard in the same room at any time during the period from the strike on the Tower of Babel to the uni- versal adoption of Esperanto. French, Italian, English, American, German, Yiddish, and Russian are to be distinguished among them ; perhaps the last predominate among the foreign tongues, for young people of both sexes come from Russia in swarms to put themselves under his instruction. This may rouse in us some speculation, even appre- hension. Bergsonianism has already assumed some curious forms in the minds of his over-ardent disciples, and what it will become after it has been translated into the Russian language and temperament it would be rash to prophesy. [45] MAJOR PROPHETS OF TO-DAY But the polyglot audience is silent as M. Bergson ascends the rostrum and begins to talk, in slow, smooth, clear tones, accented by nervous gestures of his slender hands. His figure is slight, and his face thin and pointed, almost ecclesiastical in appear- ance. His hair is slightly gray, but his close-cropped mustache is brown. The eyes are deep, dark, and penetrating, the eyes of seer and scientist together. He lays out his argument in advance in the formal French style, but unlike most French lecturers he does not confine himself to notes. His quick turns of thought break through the conventional forms of logic and find expression in striking and original similes drawn from his wide range of read- ing. I suppose all professors are given nicknames by their students ; at least all who are either loved or hated, and that includes all who amount to anything. Bergson's students call him "the lark", because the higher he flies the sweeter he sings. His voice, indeed, seems to come down from some altitudinous region of the upper atmosphere, so clear and thin and high and penetrating it is. A writer in the London News put it very well when he said of Bergson's London lecture, "No one ever spoke before a large audience with more complete self-possession and less self-assertion." [46] Copyright 1913 by Campbell Studio i/>?a_^ HENRI BERGSON As an experienced teacher he appreciates the importance of repetition, and in his lectures brings up the same idea in many varied forms and italicizes with his voice the essential points. All his life he has been a teacher, climbing up the regular edu- cational ladder rung by rung to the top. Henri Bergson was born in the heart of Paris, the Montmartre quarter, on October 18, 1859. He is descended from a prominent Jewish family of Poland and he owes his excellent command of the English language to his mother, for he always spoke that language with her. At the age of nine he en- tered the Lycee Condorcet, only a few blocks from his house on the Rue Lamartine. He was a good student and worked hard, particularly on geography, which was most difficult for him. Mathematics was his favorite study, and he then intended to make it his life work, but instead he chose a harder road, for, as he told me, philosophy is much more difficult, re- quires more concentrated thought than mathematics. Before he left the Lycee at the age of eighteen he won a prize for a solution to a mathematical problem, and the Annates de Mathematiques published his paper in full. Next he entered the Ecole Normale Superieure, where he came under the influence of Ravaisson, [47] MAJOR PROPHETS OF TO-DAY Lachelier, and Boutroux. On graduation, in 1881, he was made professor of philosophy in the Lycee of Angers for two years, afterward for five years at Clermont, then back to Paris, first in the College Rollin and later in the Lycee Henri IV. In 1898 he was promoted to the Ecole Normale Superieure, and two years later to the College de France. In 1901 he was elected to the Institute, and in 1914 to the Academy. The rapid spread of his philosophy in France is due not only to its intrinsic value and the eloquence with which he presents it, but in part also to his having been a teacher of teachers. By his twenty years' work in the secondary schools or lycees of the provinces and Paris, and in the Superior Normal School, he has molded the thought of thousands of young men who are now teaching and writing and ruling in France. His present position as lecturer to miscellaneous audiences in the College of France, though more conspicuous, is really not more influential than his earlier work. He has the faculty of arousing the enthusiasm and personal devotion of his students, so the soil all over the coun- try was prepared in advance for the propagation of his ideas, and now all he has to do is to sow them broadcast. We may observe something of the kind [48] HENRI BERGSON in our own country, where Dewey's influence has been largely exercised through personal contact with teachers. If he had never published a line, the colleges, normal and high schools in the western half of the United States would, nevertheless, be teaching anonymous Deweyism. A philosopher who cares more for influence than celebrity will prefer a chair where he can reach the largest number of future teachers to any other position however exalted. We are. not left to speculation as to the extent of Bergson's influence in French education. A questionnaire on the teaching of philosophy in the lycees conducted by Binet 1 showed that his ideas were the dominant force of the time. One school reported that "four professors here have adopted them without reserve and made them the soul of their teaching." It is interesting to note that not one of these high school professors mentioned either materialism or pantheism among their various philosophic creeds. They were equally divided between objective and subjective thinkers, or, say, between realists and idealists. Bergson himself was a materialist to start with, and he worked his way up into his present spiritual- 1 Reported in the Bulletin de la Societe jrancaise de Philosophic, 1908. [49] MAJOR PROPHETS OF TO-DAY istic philosophy when he found the inadequacy of his early conceptions. His taste was for the exact sciences, and in them he excelled while at school. He intended at that time to devote himself to the study of mechanics, and his youthful ambition was to continue and develop the philosophy of Herbert Spencer, of whom he was then an enthusiastic admirer. But as he studied the formulas of mechanics with a view of discovering their philosophical implications, and of utilizing them in the explanation of the universe, he was struck with their inadequacy, even falsity, when applied to the phenomena of life and mind. In particular he was troubled by the symbol t which occurs so frequently in mathematical and physical formulas, and is supposed to stand for " time. " It is represented geometrically by a straight line just like the three dimensions of space. In fact, as Bergson points out, "time" as used in physical science is nothing more or less than a fourth dimension of space. It is purely a spatial concep- tion, an empty framework in which events may be arranged in order as objects are set up in a row on a shelf. There is no change or development in it, for past and future are all the same to it. Now, when Bergson compared this physical conception of "time" with real time or duration [So] HENRI BERGSON as he felt it within himself, he found they were entirely different things. For the mind the past does not stretch out in a line behind. It is rolled up into the present and projected toward the future. Still less is there a path or several optional paths definitely laid out ahead of us in the future. We break our own paths as we go forward. It is like the big snowballs that we boys used to roll up to make forts out of; all the snow it has passed over is a part of it, and in front the snow is trackless. The mechanical formulas of science are admirably adapted to the purpose for which they were designed, that is, the handling of matter, but they are mislead- ing as applied to living beings, and especially to the human mind, which is the farthest removed from the realm of material mechanics. Here is true freedom and initiative. The advocate of free will always gets beaten in the argument with the determinist when he meets him on his own ground, for adopting the spatial conception of time and the dynamic conception of motives, reduces man to a machine and, of course, makes him amenable to the ordinary laws of mechanics. If it is correct to represent the future as two crossroads in front of the undecided indi- vidual and he pulled to right and left by "motives" [51] MAJOR PROPHETS OF TO-DAY on either side, then the determinist has it all his own way. The case has been conceded to him in advance, and the libertarian can only flinch from his logic. But Bergson holds that when the deter- minist pretends to talk about the future, he really is regarding it as already past, as definitely mapped and virtually existent. As Bergson's first book, "Time and Free Will", was devoted to the overthrow of the metaphysical argument for determinism, so his second, "Matter and Memory", was devoted to the overthrow of the psychological argument, which is that the mind and the brain are merely different aspects of the same thing (monism) or that their action is parallel so that a certain state of consciousness always corre- sponds to a certain molecular motion (dualism). Since the activities of the brain are presumably controlled by the physical and chemical laws, then must be also the mental activities identical or insepa- rably connected with them. But Bergson, taking the position of an extreme dualist, argues that the mind is distinct from matter and only in part depend- ent upon it, that memories are not altogether stored in the brain or anywhere in space, and that the brain is essentially nothing more than an instrument of action. [5*1 HENRI BERGSON The same is true of our senses, of our bodily or- ganism in general. They are made for practical, not speculative, purposes. The things nearest to us are seen largest and clearest. The eye is useful because its vision is limited. If it were susceptible to all rays, like our skin, we should get, not vision, but sunburn. Now the understanding, also having a pragmatic origin, limits our knowledge just as the eye limits our vision, and for the same purpose. Let me give a few examples of this limitation of our senses and of our intellect. Suppose we are looking at a horse or automobile going past in the street. We get an immediate sense of the movement very decidedly, but the motion itself we cannot see . We must first analyze the motion ; that is, take it apart, break it up into something that is not motion. This we can do with a kinetoscope camera which takes snapshots at the rate of fifty a second. These successive pictures do not give the motion, no mat- ter how rapidly they are taken. Each represents the object standing still, or if not quick enough for that, the picture is blurred ; but show these still- life photographs to us in quick succession, and we no longer perceive them as separate views but as continuous motion. Why can the camera so deceive us ? Simply because our eyes work in the same [S3l II MAJOR PROPHETS OF TO-DAY way. They are cameras, and the exposure time of the retina is about the same as that of the moving picture films. A moving object looked at steadily is merely a blurred band. But if we wink rapidly, we can catch glimpses of the legs of the horse or the spokes of the wheel, thus like the kinetoscope transforming motion into immobility by inter- mittent attention. Look closely at a portrait in this book, and you will see that it consists of pure black and white. Needless to say that the face portrayed was not composed of black spots of various sizes on a white ground. In the original there were no black, no white, and no dots. There were only even shadings, lighter and darker. The picture is an absolute mis- representation. Yet viewed with the naked eye at sufficient distance to put the dots out of sight, it imitates the shading of the original well enough to be called a "half-tone plate", although there is really not a half tone in it, nothing but black and white. Now this trick of decomposing continuous mo- tion into successive pictures like the kinetoscope and decomposing continuous space into successive spots like the printing process, is the way we do our thinking. TW rpinrl ^ PR Dv jerks like the eye. When we think of the course of history we break (S4l 1/ HENRI BERGSON it up into blocks of handy size, comparing century with century, year with year. This is perfectly justifiable, very useful, in fact inevitable, and quite innocent, provided we realize that it is a logical fiction, adapted to practical purposes merely. The trouble has come from not recognizing this. People generally, and especially scientists and philosophers, have been inclined to regard this process of rationali- zation as the way of getting at reality, instead of as a mere tool for handling reality. Long ago, when men first began to think hard, they discovered the inadequacy of mere thinking. Zeno of Elea propounded among other puzzles that of Achilles and the tortoise, which has kept the world guessing for twenty-four centuries. While Achilles is making up his handicap, the tortoise has gone on a bit farther, and when Achilles has covered this distance, the tortoise is not there, but still ahead, and since space is conceived as infinitely divisible, Achilles would take an infinity of time to catch up. I do not suppose the experiment was ever tried. That was not the way of the Greeks. They placed too much reliance upon their brains and too little on anything outside of them to put a theory to the test of experiment. But it has been agreed everywhere, always and by all, that Achilles [551 MAJOR PROPHETS OF TO-DAY would catch the tortoise, and a considerable pro- portion of each generation have tried to explain how he could, often succeeding to their own satisfaction, but rarely to the satisfaction of other people. For the point to this puzzle is not to get the answer, but to say why it puzzles us, and to this point philosophers from Aristotle to Bergson have devoted much study ; and doubtless the end is not yet. I remember well the day when that ancient jest was first sprung upon me in the University of Kansas, by the instructor in philosophy, a bright young man just on from Harvard, who had the Eleatics at his finger tips. Several of the boys volunteered to explain it, but I, having the longest arm and snappiest fingers, got the floor. I suggested that we substitute a greyhound chasing a jack rabbit for Achilles and the tortoise, who must be tired of running so long. Both greyhound and jack rabbit progress by jumps, and I argued, with the aid of a piece of chalk, that these could be measured and laid off on the prairie, here represented by the blackboard, and so the whole thing figured out. But the instructor denied my petition for a change of venue. He stuck to Greece and refused to meet me on my native soil, so I retired discomfited. I thought him unaccom- modating at the time, but I see now that he was [56] HENRI BERGSON merely wise. Wariness is often so mistaken for disobligingness. The paradox is solved by science and by common sense by assuming that Achilles and the tortoise move by jumps instead of continu- ously and then comparing these jumps, for they are of finite length and number. In short, we know what motion is by common sense, by feeling, by intuition, but when we come to reason about it, and especially when we come to talk about it, we have to substitute for it something that is not motion, but is easier to handle and near enough like it, so that ordinarily it serves just as well. It is as much like it as the short, straight lines, substituted by the mathematician, are like the segments of the curve he is trying to solve. What is true of motion is true in a way of all our definitions, formulations, laws, and categories ; they are not the real things, but merely handy surrogates. They represent some particular phase of reality more or less satisfactorily. These formulas are not designed to pick all the locks of Nature's treasure chests. They are good for the lock they are designed for and sometimes others, not all. The master key to all locks either does not exist or is too cumbrous to be wielded by man. Bergson's theory of personality arises naturally IS7l MAJOR PROPHETS OF TO-DAY out of his conception of time. Time is said to have one dimension. Yes, if we symbolize it by a line; otherwise not, it has no dimension. The impersonal time of the philosophers and scientists is merely the spatial symbol of duration. What our experi- ence shows us is not this empty artificial uneventful time, but duration. And not merely duration, but durations, for there are as many durations of different interval rhythm as there are consciousnesses. This is what is real in time. Time is really the continu- ous unrolling of our conscious life, of psychologic states which do not become distinct except when it pleases us to divide them. Personality is a conti- nuity of indivisible movement. We can draw a bucket of water out of the river, and then another bucketful, but we can never get the stream in this way, for the stream is essentially movement. The movement is what is substantial about the stream. From immobile states we can never make of life what experience actually gives us, for life is change. Only by seizing this change directly in an integral experience can we solve the problem. To true realities no concept is applicable. Reality must be regarded itself, in itself, just as it is ; and in giving a description of it, we can fix only the image of it before our eyes. [58] HENRI BERGSON The guiding thread of philosophical problems is that the intellect is an instrument of action which has developed itself in the course of centuries in order to triumph over the difficulties that matter opposes to life. The intellect has constituted itself for the purpose of a battle. The obstacles which it would overthrow are those of brute matter. The categories of the understanding are construoted with a view of action upon matter. So where our intellect seeks to know something else than the material world, it finds itself unable to grasp it. The whole history of the evolution of life combines to show that intelligence is an instrumental func- tion for action upon matter, to formulate and present the laws which permit us to foresee, and therefore to forestall. In dealing with a reality like personality, the intellect will first attempt to handle the subject with the same processes that it employs for inert matter, therefore it ends in a logical impasse. This is the origin of the difficulties of the question. The con- cepts which it would apply to personality are made only for the material world. We do not know how to apply them adequately to the life of the mind, which overflows them. To direct our attention upon the stream of our [59] MAJOR PROPHETS OF TO-DAY consciousness breaks it up and immobilizes it. But it may be reached by another kind of introspection, which consists in letting live, in trying to reenforce vitality. In this way activity may become con- sciousness without ceasing to be active. Thus the ego may be seized as it really is, as a transition and a continuity. In his theory of evolution Bergson draws a sharp distinction between intelligence and instinct. As intelligence has reached its highest point in the human race, so instinct has reached its highest point in the ants, bees, and wasps. Here we see instinct attaining its ends by the employment of the most varied and complicated expedients. The ant is lord of the subsoil as man is lord of the soil. The solitary wasps, whom Maeterlinck would despise as primitive individualists in comparison with the socialized bees, are used by Bergson to illustrate his theory of instinct. These insects provide for the future needs of their larvae by storing up in their underground nest spiders, beetles, or caterpillars. These are to be kept alive, as we keep turtles and lobsters, so they will be fresh, and in order to prevent them from escaping, the wasp paralyzes them by stinging them at the point or points where the motor nerves meet. One species of wasp pierces F6ol HENRI BERGSON the ganglia of its caterpillar by nine successive thrusts of its sting and then squeezes the head in its mandibles, enough to cause paralysis without death. Other kinds of wasps have to use other forms of surgical treatment, according to the kind of insect they put into storage. How can this be explained ? If we call it intelligence, we must assume that the wasp or its ancestors has been endowed with a knowledge of insect anatomy such as we hesitate to credit to any being lower in the scale of life than a professor of entomology. If we adopt a mechanis- tic hypothesis, we must assume that this marvelous skill in surgery has been gradually acquired in the course of thousands of generations, either by the survival of the descendants of those insects who happened to have stuck their stings into the nine right places (Darwinism), or by the inheritance of the acquired habit of stinging a certain species of caterpillar in that particular way (Lamarckianism). But since this knowledge or skill is never of use to the individual insect and is of no use to the species until it has arrived at a considerable degree of per- fection, we can hardly adopt either theory without straining our imagination. But the assumed difficulties vanish if we adopt the Bergsonian point of view and regard the cater- [61] MAJOR PROPHETS OF TO-DAY pillar and wasp as two parts of the same process. It is no wonder then that they are fitted together. Slayer and slain have developed for that purpose, and what is apparently antagonism is really coopera- tion. The importance of this theory to those who are troubled about the moral interpretation of the universe is obvious, for the stinging of the cater- pillar would seem something like picking a sliver out of the left hand by the right, but Bergson does not go into this question at all. The formation of the eye, which is the source of much perplexity to evolutionists of all schools, provides Bergson with an excellent illustration of his theory. The eye of mollusks is similar in form and identical in function with the eye of the verte- brates, yet the two are composed of different ele- ments and grow in a different way. The retina of the vertebrate is produced by an expansion of the central nervous system of the young embryo. It is, so to speak, a part of the brain coming out to see. In the mollusk, on the contrary, the retina is formed from the external layer of the embryo. Here heredity is out of the question because of this dif- ference of formation and because the man is not descended from the mollusk nor the mollusk from man. The structure of the eye involves the com- [62] HENRI BERGSON bination of such a large number of elements and must satisfy so many conditions before it is good for anything, that it is practically impossible to explain it either as the effect of the action of light or as the result of an accretion of slight accidental variations. But Bergson, coming in with his philosophic faith at the point where science leaves off, calls atten- tion to the fact that while the eye is a complicated structure, seeing is one simple act. Why not begin our explanation with the simple, instead of the complex ? The analytical method of the intellect, though useful in its place, does not lead us to the meaning of reality. It is as if we could only see a picture as broken up into a mosaic, or as if we could only consider a movement of the hand in the mathe- matician's way, as an infinite series of points ar- ranged in a curve. So the eye with its marvelous complexity of struc- ture, may be only the simple act of vision, divided for us into a mosaic of cells, whose order seems marvelous to us because we have conceived the whole as an assemblage. . . . Mechanism and finalism both go too far, for they attribute to Nature the most formidable of the labors of Hercules in holding that she has exalted to the simple act of vision an infinity of infinitely complex elements, whereas Nature has had no more trouble [63] • MAJOR PROPHETS OF TO-DAY in making an eye than I have in lifting my hand. Nature's simple act has divided itself automatically into an infinity of elements which are then found to be coordinated to one idea, just as the movement of my hand has dropped an infinity of points which are then found to satisfy one equation. — "Creative Evolution", pp. 90-91. Bergson seems born to be an exception to Amiel's ; criticism of French philosophy : " The French lack j.i that intuitive faculty to which the living unity of things is revealed." "Their logic never goes beyond the category of mechanism nor their metaphysic beyond dualism." M. Bergson's residence is the Villa Montmorency in Auteuil, a quiet quarter of Paris, lying between the Seine and the Bois de Boulogne. In summer he goes to Switzerland for greater seclusion and the stimulus of a higher altitude upon his thought. Here I had the pleasure of spending an afternoon with him. From Geneva, where I was staging, I took the railroad that skirts the lake upon the west- ern side to Nyon, an old Roman town at the foot of the Dole, the highest peak of the Swiss Jura. St. Cergue, my destination, was nine miles inland and a half a mile up. The distance I had to go was therefore the square root of the sum of the squares of these distances, but I did not figure it out, because, [64] HENRI BERGSON according to Bergson, we live in time rather than space, and duration is not a measure of length. So I can only say that it was one of the longest and pleasantest hypotenuses I ever traversed. For there was a sense of exhilaration in rising ever higher as the carriage zigzagged through the woods,, and in getting a grander view each time we stopped at a turn to give way to an automobile chugging slowly up or coasting swiftly down. Arrived at the little village of St. Cergue, I had still a climb and a search among the hotels, pensions, and summer homes scattered over the mountainside for Villa Bois-gentil. This was found in the middle of a meadow backed by a forest of firs, a square, two- story house, simply furnished but with no affectation of rusticity, as is common in American country homes. From the inclosed porch there is a glorious view of Mont Blanc, with the long blue crescent of Lake Geneva curving around the ramparts of its "base. But, as with many another Swiss view, the effect is marred by the presence of a big box of a hotel in the immediate foreground. One would have thought from the cordiality of my reception that a philosopher had nothing better to do than to entertain a wandering American journalist. At lunch I had an opportunity of meet- [65] MAJOR PROPHETS OF TO-DAY ing also Madame and Mademoiselle Bergson, and afterward a long talk with Professor Bergson, who later accompanied me down the steep mountain path to the village and along the winding road through the woods. His conversation has the charm of his books, the enthusiasm for the mission of philosophy, the wealth of illustrations drawn from many fields of science and art, the freshness and inspiration of his novel point of view, the candidness in the consideration of opposing arguments, the unaffected, unpretentious manner, the absence of the professional jealousy and personal arrogance which has been characteristic of many original thinkers. The reader will notice that in his reviews and criticisms of the historic systems of philosophy, he never seeks to overthrow them, but is always trying to see how much of them he can save and assimilate. He believes that it is possible for metaphysics to have a continuous and positive devel- opment like the natural sciences, each man building on what has gone before, instead of setting up a new school and endeavoring to secure a personal following. 1 I took the liberty of extending to Professor Berg- 1 For his views on the possibility of scientific metaphysics, see Le Parallilisme psycho-physique et la mitaphysique positive in Bulletin de la Sociiti francaise de Philosophic, June, 1901 ; and Introduction a la mita- physique in Revue de Mitaphysique et de Morale, January, 1903. [66] HENRI BERGSON son an invitation to America, for I was able to assure him of a hearty welcome on account of the deep in- terest already taken here in his thought. The work of James and Dewey prepared the way for Bergson in this country, for his philosophy may be regarded as a constructive system built upon pragmatic criticism. Indeed, he has been accused by his oppo- nents of stealing Yankee psychology and making metaphysics out of it. The truth is, James and Bergson pursued through many years lines of thought of similar tendency but of independent development, though each has repeatedly taken occasion to express his appreciation of the work of the other. It is a case of psycho-metaphysical parallelism rather than of interaction. In February, 1913, Professor Bergson came to America at the invitation of Columbia University and gave two series of lectures, one in French and the other in English, on Spiritualite et Liberte and the Method of Philosophy. One would find reason to question the common assertion that nowadays no interest is taken in metaphysical problems when he saw the lecture rooms packed with people from the city as well as students from all departments of the university. A line of automobiles stood wait- ing along Broadway, as the litters waited in the [67] MAJOR PROPHETS OF TO-DAY streets of Rome when Plotinus, the Neoplatonist, came to lecture there seventeen hundred years ago. Those who could not beg, buy, or borrow a ticket of admission formed a line outside the door, hoping that some who had tickets would fail to appear, but that did not often happen. A lunette was discovered over the door which commanded the lecture room, and here gathered a compact group of the excluded, finding room for one eye or one ear apiece, but the fainting of a lady in the crush put a stop to this privilege. In the downtown de- partment stores Bergson's books were stacked up on the "best sellers" counter. His American publisher sold in two years half as many copies of "Creative Evolution" as had been sold in France in fifteen. Yet Bergson is a prophet not without honor in his own country. The three weeks he spent here were so crowded with engagements that he had to be kept running on a schedule as close as a railroad time-table. As he was leaving, I asked Professor Bergson the banal question of what he thought of America. He answered : "I shall always remember America as the Land of Interrupted Conversations. I have met so many interesting people with whom I should like to talk, but then somebody else equally interesting comes up." [68] HENRI BERGSON M. Bergson believes that it is possible to make any philosophical idea clear and acceptable to the multitude. In this he obviously differs from other philosophers, many of whom do not think it possible and some of whom do not think it desirable. But to gain the wider audience, the author must take great pains with his style. The fault with transla- tions is that the swing, the rhythm, is apt to be lost or altered, and this is essential to the impres- sion as well as the right words. I spoke to him of the difficulty of finding an exact English equiv- alent of elan vital, which is the key word of his "Evolution creatrice", and he replied that he thought that "impetus", the word chosen by Dr. Arthur Mitchell in his translation of the work, was better than any of the others which had been suggested, such as "impulse", "momentum", "movement", "onrush", "push", "force", and "urge." M. Bergson's method of composition is based on his theory of style. In undertaking a new book he spends as many years as may be necessary to the mastery of the literature of the subject and the development of his ideas. Then when he starts in to compose, he sets aside all his books and notes, and writes at a furious rate so as to get the book [69] MAJOR PROPHETS OF TO-DAY down as nearly as possible in the form it took in his mind at one time, jotting' down his thoughts as rapidly as they come, often in fragmentary sen- tences and words, so as not to interrupt the move- ment of his mind. Then having put on paper the essentials of his theme with its original impetus, he devotes himself to the long process of revision, verification, and correction. To art in all its forms Bergson has given a large place in his philosophy. The little book in which he has touched upon it, "Le Rire" (Laughter), is not so much of a digression from his fundamental line of thought as may appear. He explains that ridicule has developed as a method of social control, to whip people into line, to punish them for willful or absent-minded disregard of social usages. Laugh- ter is incompatible with emotion. The comic ad- dresses itself to pure intelligence. A joke cannot be perceived until the heart has a momentary anaes- thesia. There is nothing comic except human beings. Man has been defined as "the laughing animal." He is also the only laughable animal. Man becomes ridiculous when we regard him from an intellectualist standpoint ; that is, as a machine. The attitudes, gestures, and movements of the human body are laughable in the exact degree that they [70] HENRI BERGSON seem to us mechanical. We always laugh when persons seem like things. The bearing of this theory of the ridiculous upon his philosophy is so obvious that he does not need to state it. Bergson, too, might use ridicule as a weapon and laugh determinism out of court. The man of the mechanists would be as funny as a jack- in-the-box. In the same volume he gives his view of the func- tion of art, from which a few sentences may be quoted here : What is the object of art ? If reality struck our senses and our consciousness directly; if we could enter into immediate communication with things and with each other, I believe that art would be use- less, or rather that we would all be artists, for our souls would then vibrate continuously in unison with nature. Our eyes, aided by our memory, would cut out in space and fix in time inimitable pictures. Our glance would seize in passing, sculp- tured in the living marble of the human body, bits of statuary as beautiful as those of antiquity. We would hear singing in the depths of our souls like music, sometimes gay, more often plaintive, always original, the uninterrupted melody of our interior life. All this is around us, all this is in us, and yet noth- ing of all this is perceived by us distinctly. Between nature and us — what do I say ? — between us and our own consciousness, a veil interposes, a thick veil for the common man, a thin veil, almost transparent, [71] MAJOR PROPHETS OF TO-DAY for the artist and the poet. What fairy has woven this veil ? Was it through malice or through friendli- ness ? It is necessary to live, and life requires that we apprehend things relatively to our needs. Living consists in acting. To live is to receive from objects only the useful impression in order to respond to it by the appropriate reactions ; the other impressions must obliterate themselves or come to us only con- fusedly. I look and I believe I see, I listen and believe I hear, I study myself and I believe I read to the bottom of my heart. But what I see and what I hear from the external world is simply what my senses extract from it in order to throw light upon my conduct ; what I know of myself is what flows on the surface, what takes part in action. My senses and my consciousness give me only a practical simplification of reality. Thus, whether it be painting, sculpture, poetry or music, art has no other object than to dissipate the practically useful symbols, the generalities conven- tionally and socially accepted, in short all that masks reality for us, in order to bring us face to face with reality itself. It is a misunderstanding on this point that has given rise to the debate between realism and idealism in art. Art is certainly only a more direct vision of reality. But this purity of percep- tion implies a rupture with useful convention, an innate and specially localized disinterestedness of the sense or of the consciousness, in short, a certain immateriality of life which is what has always been called idealism. So one might say without in the least playing upon the sense of the words, that realism is in the work when idealism is in the soul, and that it is by force of ideality alone that one can regain contact with reality. [72] HENRI BERGSON There are various other ways besides art whereby we may recover and strengthen the faculty of intuition, which has been suffered to atrophy through too exclusive a reliance upon rational processes. There is, for example, action, life itself, the sense of living, which brings us into immediate contact with reality. By the help of science, art, and philosophy, we may achieve sympathy, a feeling of the kinship of nature, a consciousness of interpenetration, a realization of the meaning of evolution. Above all, philosophy has this aim and power, to develop another faculty, complementary to the intellect, that will open to us a perspective on the other half of reality, not capable of being confined in the rigid formulas of deductive logic. There are things that intelligence alone is able to seek but which, by itself, it will never find. These things instinct alone can find, but it will never seek them. Intelligence and instinct are turned in opposite directions, the former toward inert matter, the latter toward life. Intelligence by means of science, which is its work, will deliver up to us more and more com- pletely the secret of physical operations ; of life it brings us, and moreover only claims to bring us, a translation in terms of inertia. It goes all around life, taking from the outside the greatest possible number of views of it, drawing it into itself instead of entering into it. But it is to the very inwardness l73l MAJOR PROPHETS OF TO-DAY of life that intuition leads — by intuition I mean instinct that has become disinterested, self-conscious, capable of reflecting upon its object and of enlarging it indefinitely. We see that the intellect, so skillful in dealing with the inert, is awkward the moment it touches the living. Whether it wants to treat the life of the body or the life of the mind, it proceeds with the rigor, the stiffness, and the brutality of an instru- ment not designed for such use. The history of hygiene or of pedagogy teaches us much in this matter. In Bergson's system metaphysics occupies the same place that it does in the works of Aristotle. Metaphysics is simply what is beyond physics, not something antagonistic to it. He has not, like many modern philosophers, been contemptuous toward physiological psychology. On the contrary, he has mastered it and built upon it. This is the reason, I think, why his ideas have met with such swift acceptance. It is as absurd for a philosopher nowadays to attempt to confine himself to the data accessible to Plato as it would be for a mathematician to attempt to solve the problems of modern physics with the use of the methods of Euclid. Bergson applied his theory of the relation of mind and brain to the explanation of the mechanism of dreaming, in an address before the Institut psy- [74] HENRI BERGSON chologique on March 28, 1901. 1 Here he showed how the obscure sensations of sight, touch, and hear- ing which reach us even during sleep furnish the basis for our dreams, and how our memories fit into this framework, so the process is similar to that of ordinary perception except that the critical faculty is less vigilant than in a waking state. Thus, light flashing upon the closed eyes may give rise to a dream of fire, and the recumbent posture and conse- quent absence of pressure on the soles of the feet give us the idea of floating in the air. The following passage from this paper on dreams is of especial interest, for in it Bergson brings forward the theory which since then Freud and his school have developed and in many cases carried to extravagant lengths, — the theory that our memories are stored in a state of tension like steam in a boiler, and may rise into consciousness in various guises when the vigilance of the individual is relaxed : Our memories, at any given moment, form a solid whole, a pyramid, so to speak, whose point is inserted precisely into our present action. But behind the memories which are concerned in our occupations and are revealed by means of it, there are others, thousands of others, stored below the scene illumi- 1 Published in the Revue scientifique, June 8, 1901, and in English in The Independent, October 23-30, 1913, and in book form, 1914. [75] MAJOR PROPHETS OF TO-DAY nated by consciousness. Yes, I believe indeed that all our past life is there, preserved even to the most infinitesimal details, and that we forget nothing, and that all that we have felt, perceived, thought, willed, from the first awakening of our consciousness, sur- vives indestructibly. But the memories which are preserved in these obscure depths are there in the state of invisible phantoms. They aspire, perhaps, to the light, but they do not even try to rise to it ; they know that it is impossible and that I, as a living and acting being, have something else to do than to occupy myself with them. But suppose that, at a given moment, I become disinterested in the present situation, in the present action — in short, in all which previously has fixed and guided my memory ; suppose, in other words, that I am asleep. Then these memories, perceiving that I have taken away the obstacle, have raised the trapdoor which has kept them beneath the floor of consciousness, arise from the depths ; they rise, they move, they perform in the night of unconsciousness a great dance macabre. They rush together to the door which has been left ajar. They all want to get through. But they cannot ; there are too many of them. From the multitudes which are called, which will be chosen ? It is not hard to say. Formerly, when I was awake, the memories which forced their way were those which could involve claims of rela- tionship with the present situation, with what I saw and heard around me. Now it is more vague images which occupy my sight, more indecisive sounds which affect my ear, more indistinct touches which are distributed over the surface of my body, but there are also the more numerous sensations which arise from the deepest parts of the organism. So, then, [76] HENRI BERGSON among the phantom memories which aspire to fill themselves with color, with sonority, in short with materiality, the only ones that succeed are those which can assimilate themselves with the color-dust that we perceive, the external and internal sensations that we catch, etc., and which, besides, respond to the effective tone of our general sensibility. When this union is effected between the memory and the sensa- tion, we have a dream. Bergson may be called a man of three books, if we ignore " Laughter", which is merely a flying but- tress of his system. In the first, known in English as "Time and Free Will", he develops his theory of vital duration as distinct from physical time, which has been the guiding clew of all his later thinking. This volume, completed in 1887, was the outcome of a four years' study of the physical, psychological, and metaphysical conceptions of time and space. For the second book, dealing with the relation of the mind to the brain, it was necessary to master the voluminous literature of the subject, especially the clinical and experimental researches on aphasia and localization of function. This required nine years of study, embodied in " Matter and Memory", appearing in 1896. In the preparation for the third book he devoted eleven years to the study of biol- ogy and produced " Creative Evolution" in 1907. According to this rate of increase, we might expect [77] MAJOR PROPHETS OF TO-DAY his fourth volume in 1923, but it would be obviously unfair to apply to M. Bergson himself the mathe- matical determinism that he repudiates. I call attention to this preliminary study of the sciences, because there is a danger that the anti- intellectualist tendency of the pragmatic movement should lead to a disregard of the importance of scientific research. That this danger is real and present, was shown in the Binet report on the teach- ing of philosophy, previously referred to. Some of the professors complained that their students, under the influence of Bergson's ideas, had come to have a disdain for the tedious and laborious meth- ods of experimental science, believing that science does not give us reality, and assuming that, while science is good enough for mechanics and physicians, it is indifferent to philosophers. ; When this point was brought up for discussion in the Societe frangaise de Philosophie, M. Bergson made an indignant reply, declaring that in the theories attributed to him he recognized nothing that he had taught or written. He had never contemned science or subordinated it to meta- physics. i Mathematics, for instance, what have I said of that ? That, however great may be the part played [78] HENRI BERGSON in it by the creative imagination, it must not lose sight of space and matter ; that matter and space are realities; that matter is weighted with geometry; that geometry is consequently not a mere play but a true point of contact with the absolute. I attribute the same absolute value to the physical sciences. It is true they enunciate laws of which the form would have been different if other variables, other units of measure, had been chosen, and especially if the problems had been propounded chronologically in a different order. But all this is because we are obliged to break up nature and to examine one by one the problems it sets for us. Really, physics strives for the absolute, and it approaches more and more as it advances this ideal limit. I should like to know if there exists, among modern conceptions of science, a theory that puts a higher value upon positive sci- ence. Most of them give us science as entirely rela- tive to human intelligence. I hold, on the contrary, that it is reality itself, absolute reality, which the mathematical and physical sciences tend to reveal to us. Science only begins to become relative, or rather symbolic, when it approaches from the physico- chemical side, the problems of life and consciousness. But even here it is quite legitimate. It only needs then to be completed by a study of another kind, that is, metaphysics. In short, all my researches have had no other object than to bring about a rapprochement between metaphysics and science and to consolidate the one with the other without sacrificing anything of either, after having first clearly distinguished the one from the other. This outspoken and emphatic language ought to clear the air of many current misconceptions of [79] MAJOR PROPHETS OF TO-DAY Bergson's philosophy. Now that he has laid down his fundamental principles, it is to be hoped that he will next take up their applications to the inter- pretation of history and the problems of conduct. If he does not do this himself, others will do it for him, and doubtless not always in accordance with his intentions. In fact, they are already doing it. In France, Bergsonianism is not an academic specu- lation, but an active force in some of the most im- portant movements of the day. We hear of a Berg- sonian art and a Bergsonian literature as well as a Bergsoniari Catholicism and a Bergsonian labor movement. The two last mentioned are of especial interest as showing the influence of his novel views upon the most diverse minds. Just as there were Hegelians of the Right and Hegelians of the Left, so now there are two wings of Bergsonianism, the conservative being the Modernists and the radical being the Syndicalists. There has rarely been seen such an outburst of enthusiasm for metaphysical thought as that of the French neo-Catholics. The pragmatic philos- ophy, particularly James's "Varieties of Religious Experience", pointed the way to a new Christian apologetic based upon living experience, instead of abstract reasoning. The young Catholics turned [8ol HENRI BERGSON their attention to the saints rather than to the theologians, and found inspiration in a fresh study of the Catholic mystics. In a conception of truth as a growth, as an ideal convergence of beneficial beliefs, rather than as a static limit, and in a concep- tion of history as a progressive process of verifica- tion, they attained a point of view which enabled them to retain their ecclesiastical heritage and at the same time to accept the bounty of modern science. But such speculations were deemed dangerous by the Vatican, and the movement was crushed, so far as a movement of such vigor and vitality can be crushed, by the Encyclical and Syllabus issued by Pius X in 1907, and the anti-modernist oath that was later imposed. 1 This was followed in 1914 by the placing of Bergson's works upon the Index of Prohibited Books which no good Catholic may read without the express permission of his spiritual ad- viser. At the opposite extreme we find the trades unions or syndicates, whose power has been often demon- 1 Articles on pragmatic Catholicism may be found in almost any vol- ume of the Revue Philosophique and the Revue de Metaphysique et de Morale during the first twelve years of the twentieth century. See especially those by Edouard Le Roy, a disciple of James and Bergson. A brief account of the movement is contained in Lalande's " Philosophy in France, 1907", Philosophical Review, May, 1908. [8ll MAJOR PROPHETS OF TO-DAY strated in recent years, but whose aims and ideals are yet indeterminate and vague. So far it is Will and not Idea that is manifested in the revolutionary labor movement, to use the Schopenhaurian terms. But becoming conscious of the need of a philosoph- ical justification, they have seized upon one side of Bergson's doctrine and declared the flan ouvrier brother to the Han vital, or a part of it. Their flamboyant phraseology reminds one of 1793: "The College de France collaborates with the Bourse du Travail" and "The flute of personal meditation harmonizes with the trumpets of the social revolution." The syndicalists, like the mod- ernists, have their revolt against dogma, against the catchwords of republicanism as well as against the rigid formulas of Marxianism, against all at- tempts to confine the future in the past and to impose determinism upon conduct. And when it comes to the enforcement of conformity — or, rather, of uniformity — of profession, there is not much difference between Pope and party. 1 It is unnecessary to say that M. Bergson teaches neither Catholicism nor revolution, and that he ' Ab representative) of the pragmatic lyndlcalisti may be mentioned George Sorel and Edounrd Berth. For an account of the philosophical Bide of the movement, ecc Syndicalist!* tt Berponiens by C. Bougl6 in Revue du Mois, April, 1909. [82] HENRI BERGSON cannot be held accountable for all the various applications of his ideas to practical life. I mention these extremes only to show the range of their actual influence. Whatever may be the fate of Bergson's philosophy, we may be sure it will not leave the world as it found it. It is a force to be reckoned with at all events in the field of action as well as in the realm of pure reason. Very few references to disputed questions in reli- gion, sociology, and ethics can be found in his works, and since he prefers to use a new, clean, and uncon- ventional vocabulary, he cannot be pocketed in any of the pigeonholes provided in advance by the historians of philosophy. To the demand for a brief formulation of his philosophy, an indignant Bergsonian retorts : " Can you put Maeterlinck's 'Pelleas and Melisande' into a formula ?" The Post Impressionists and Futurists are fond of ascribing their novel ideas of art to Bergson, but he is not eager to assume the responsibility. When I asked him about it, he said that he had never yet been able to discover his philosophy in their paint- ings, and further that he was always skeptical of a movement where the theory ran so far ahead of the practice. It is obvious that the adoption of the pragmatic [83] MAJOR PROPHETS OF TO-DAY principle, particularly in the extreme Bergsonian form, would radically alter our view of the past, and compel a rewriting or at least a rereading of history. If history never repeats itself, what is its lesson for us ? Certainly it is not competent to foretell our future, still less to prescribe our ac- tions. The best expression of what seems to me the legitimate ethical deductions of Bergson's philosophy is to be found in the brilliant essays by L. P. Jacks. According to the editor of the Hibbert Journal, the highest morality consists, not in following the es- tablished rules, but in a voluntary rise into a higher level. The true moral act is original, creative, un- precedented. What would the author of "Folk- ways", for whom conformity was the only morality, have said to the following : " Had men all along restricted themselves to the performance of those actions for which the warrant of moral science was then and there available, many crimes perhaps would not have been committed, but it is doubtful if the world would contain the record of a single noble deed. We cannot remind ourselves too often that the most complete scientific knowledge of what has been done up to date will never enable us to answer the question, 'What ought to be done next?' [84] HENRI BERGSON "The subject matter of science and the subject matter of morality are entirely different and in a sense opposed ; the first is the deed-as-done, the second is the doing of a deed-to-be. " Conscience rightly understood is no faculty of abstract judgment laying down propositions as to what ought and ought not to be done ; it is not a 'voice', though we often name it such, bidding us do this or that ; it is rather an elan vital, an impulse, an active principle, nay, the good Will itself." — "Al- chemy of Thought", by L. P. Jacks, pp. 260, 287. Among the numerous followers of Bergson, none is more enthusiastic or sympathetic than Edouard Le Roy, a modernist Catholic — if that, since the encyclical, is not a contradiction in terms — who has for many years been in close touch with Bergson, and has been especially interested in the religious and ethical applications of his theories. His intro- duction to Bergson's philosophy is therefore use- ful, not merely because it gives in brief a compe- tent exposition of Bergson's ideas, for the beginner would probably find it quite as profitable and enjoy- able to read the same number of pages of " Creative Evolution", but chiefly because M. Le Roy is in a way an authorized spokesman, and so we can get some notion of Bergson's opinions about questions [85] MAJOR PROPHETS OF TO-DAY on which he has not yet expressed himself. For example, Bergson in all his books never deals with religion, although it is obvious that his philosophy has the closest relation with religion in many of its aspects. Le Roy, however, is not so reticent, and he closes the volume with the following note- worthy passage : " In the depths of ourselves we find liberty ; in the depths of universal being we find a demand for crea- tion. Since evolution is creative, each of its mo- ments works for the production of an indeducible and transcendent future. This future must not be re- garded as a simple development of the present, a simple expression of germs already given. Con- sequently we have no authority for saying that there is forever only one order of life, only one plane of action, only one rhythm of duration, only one per- spective of existence. And if disconnections and abrupt leaps are visible in the economy of the past — from matter to life, from the animal to man — we have no authority again for claiming that we can- not observe to-day something analogous in the very essence of human life, that the point of view of the flesh, and the point of view of the spirit, the point of view of reason, and the point of view of charity are a homogeneous extension of it. And apart from that, [86] HENRI BERGSON taking life in its first tendency, and in the general direction of its current, it is ascent, growth, upward effort, and a work of spiritualizing and emancipating creation : by that we might define Good, for Good is a path rather than a thing. " But life may fail, halt, or travel downward. . . . Each species, each individual, each function tends to take itself as its end ; mechanism, habit, body and letter, which are, strictly speaking, pure instruments, actually become principles of death. Thus it comes about that life is exhausted in efforts toward self- preservation, allows itself to be converted by matter into captive eddies, sometimes even abandons itself to the inertia of the weight which it ought to raise, and surrenders to the downward current which con- stitutes the essence of materiality : it is thus that Evil would be defined, as the direction of travel opposed to Good. Now, with man, thought, reflec- tion, and clear consciousness appear. At the same time also properly moral qualifications appear,; good becomes duty, evil becomes sin. At this pre- cise moment, a new problem begins, demanding the soundings of a new intuition, yet connected at clear and visible points with previous problems. " This is the philosophy which some are pleased to say is closed by nature to all problems of a certain [8 7 ] MAJOR PROPHETS OF TO-DAY order, problems of reason or problems of morality. There is no doctrine, on the contrary, which is more open, and none which, in actual fact, lends itself better to further extension." I have quoted this entire, because Professor Berg- son has given it his indorsement in the plainest terms. In a letter]to M. Le Roy about the book, he says : Your study could not be more conscientious or true to the original. Nowhere is this sympathy more in evidence than where you point the possibilities of further developments of the doctrine. In this direc- tion I should myself say exactly what you have said. The passage quoted above from M. Le Roy's book has, then, almost the significance of a signed statement. It was observed that in his lectures in New York Professor Bergson was much more out- spoken than formerly in his views upon religious matters ; as, for example, when he replied affirma- tively to the question whether he believed in im- mortality or not. It may be anticipated that his future work will be in the development of his philos- ophy along the lines indicated by M. LeRoy, although we may expect — judging from his former books — that this will take the form, not of the formulation of a new moral code, but of the discovery of a new way of looking at life and appraising action. [88] HENRI BERGSON Until recently the triumphal march of Bergson into increasing popularity and influence has met with little systematic opposition. Some have found him obscure. Some have called him absurd. He has his devoted partisans and bitter opponents. But his views have not yet been subjected to the thorough criticism which they must inevitably receive sooner or later. A step in this direction is the study of the pragmatic movement by Rene Berthelot. The first volume of his "Utilitarian Romanticism" deals with the pragmatism of Nietzsche and Poincare ; the second with the prag- matism of Bergson. The author, after the manner of historians of philosophy, is more concerned to determine what is new in Bergson than what is true. He acts upon the old military rule "divide and conquer" and accordingly splits up Bergson- ism into German romanticism and Anglo-Saxon utilitarianism, and then proceeds to dispatch these severally after the orthodox manner. This proce- dure is in a way begging the question, for it implicitly denies the Bergsonian thesis that there may be some- thing new in the world. Tracing a thing back to its roots is all very well, provided that you do not assume that the roots are all there is of the plant that has grown out of them. [89] MAJOR PROPHETS OF TO-DAY In tracing this genealogy of thought M. Berthelot finds Bergson related to Nietzsche on the romantic side. Both, he says, derive their romanticism from Schelling; Bergson, through his revered teacher, Ravaisson, and Nietzsche through Hoelder- lin, Emerson, Schopenhauer, and Wagner. "Like the symbolists, Nietzsche and Bergson have drunk in different cups the water from the same magic fountain ; an invisible Vivian has bound them both in the same enchantment." From the other side of the house — might we say the masculine side ? — Bergson derived his utilitarian empiricism ; M. Berthelot traces its descent from Berkeley through Hume, Mill, Bain, and Spencer. In the course of this discussion the author introduces the following ingenious formula : Hobbes : Berkeley : : Nietzsche : Bergson. Those who are sufficiently expert with the appli- cation of the rule of three to metaphysics may work this out at their leisure. One would suppose, on Mendelian principles, that a hybrid of such diverse and distinguished intel- lectual ancestry would show more originality than Berthelot is willing to allow to Bergson. At the end of his analysis he comes to the conclusion that [90] HENRI BERGSON Bergson has really made only one important contri- bution to philosophy ; that is, his conception of dura- tion as distinguished from time. As Berkeley in analyzing the idea of space showed how psychological space, that is, the notion of space derived from sensa- tion, differed from mathematical or formal space, so Bergson has shown how concrete duration or psychological time differs from mathematical or formal time. But even this theory according to our author is misapplied by Bergson, for it is not an opposition between space and time, but between two different conceptions of both space and time. This is characteristic of Berthelot's criticism, which is mainly directed toward breaking down all along the line the dichotomy to which Bergson is ad- dicted. Bergson's literary skill and amazing popularity seem to annoy him as they do other professors of philosophy in various lands. Whenever Berthelot presents Bergson with a bundle of compliments, we may detect a nettle hidden in the bouquet, as when he alludes to Bergson as "the Debussy of contem- porary philosophy", and he says that with an in- creasing floridity of style the number of the berg- soniennes has come to surpass that of the bergsoniens. But that a philosophy should become fashionable [91] MAJOR PROPHETS OF TO-DAY seems to me rather creditable to the public than discreditable to the originator. Professor Bergson has on several occasions ex- pressed an interest in the efforts of the Society of Psychical Research to throw light into dark corners, and he has shown his sympathy by accepting the presidency of the English society, a successor in that position to F. W. H. Myers, Sir Oliver Lodge, Sir William Crookes, A. J. Balfour, and Andrew Lang. In his presidential address delivered in iEolian Hall, London, May 28, 191 3, Professor Bergson made the novel suggestion that if the same amount of effort had been given toward the study of mental phenomena as has been given to physical, we might now know as much about mind as we do about matter. The concluding passage of the ad- dress is worth quoting : What would have happened if all our science, for three centuries past, had been directed toward the knowledge of the mind, instead of toward that of matter — if, for instance, Kepler and Galileo and Newton had been psychologists ? Psychology would have attained developments of which one could no more form an idea than people had been able, before Kepler and Galileo and Newton, to form an idea of our astronomy and of our physics. Probably, instead of their being disdained a priori, all the strange facts with which psychical research was con- [92] HENRI BERGSON cerned would have been sought out minutely. Probably we should have had a vitalist biology quite different from ours, perhaps also a different medicine, or therapeutics by way of suggestion would have been pushed to a point of which we can form no idea. But when the human mind, having pushed thus far the science of mind, had turned toward inert matter, it would have been confused as to its direction, not knowing how to set to work, not knowing how to apply to this matter the processes with which it had been successful up till then. The world of physical, and not that of psychical, phenomena would then have been the world of mystery. It was, however, neither possible nor desirable that things should have happened thus. It was not possible, because at the dawn of modern times mathematical science already existed, and it was necessary, consequently, that the mind should pursue its researches in a direction to which that science was applicable. Nor was it desirable, even for the science of mind, for there would always have been wanting to that science something infinitely precious — the precision, the anxiety for proof, the habit of distinguishing that which is certain and that which is simply possible or probable. The sciences concerned with matter can alone give to the mind that precision, that rigor, those scruples. Let us now approach the science of mind with these excellent habits, renouncing the bad metaphysic which embarrasses our research, and the science of the mind will attain results surpassing all our hopes. But whatever might have been the result if Kepler, Galileo, and Newton had turned their attention to psychology instead of physics, it must be confessed [93] MAJOR PROPHETS OF TO-DAY that the Society for Psychical Research has been a disappointment, notwithstanding that it has num- bered among its zealous investigators such distin- guished scientists as Lodge, Crookes, and Wallace. When the society was organized in 1882, its first president, Professor Sidgwick, called attention to the numerous reports of physical phenomena in the seance room and expressed the hope that such evidence would be forthcoming more abundantly now that competent investigators were prepared to deal with them. But quite the contrary happened. As Mr. Podmore puts it in his book on "The Nat- uralization of the Supernatural": " In short, just when an organized and systematic investigation on a scale not inadequate to the impor- tance of the subject was for the first time about to be made, the phenomena to be investigated diminished rapidly in frequency and importance, and the oppor- tunities for investigation were further curtailed by the indifference or reluctance of the mediums to submit their claims to investigation." It would seem, then, that since mankind, or some small portion of it, has acquired the precision, rigor, and scruples of physical science, it has become diffi- cult, even impossible, to cultivate the occult. Still most of us would agree with M. Bergson that, assum- [94] HENRI BERGSON ing that there was such an alternative opened to humanity as he supposes, science has chosen the better part in undertaking the conquest of the physical world first. The religious importance of Bergson's theory of evolution will be apparent from the quotations given. It has occurred to me in reading his later work that in some passages the word "faith" could be substituted for "philosophy", and "elohim" for "elan vital", without materially altering the sense. Then, too, his emphasis of time restores a conception which has always been a vital factor in religious faith, but which is not found in the scientific con- ception of the world as a reversible reaction or the metaphysical conception of the world as an illusion of an unchangeable Absolute. The present day is different from any other, and the future depends upon it. We cannot console or excuse ourselves by saying, "It will be all the same a hundred years hence." Now is the accepted time, the day of decision, the unique opportunity, and the election may be irrevocable, a turning point in the his- tory of the creation. The atoms have lost their chance. The animals are hopelessly sidetracked. Upon us depends the future, the salvation of the world. [95] MAJOR PROPHETS OF TO-DAY We must no longer speak of life in general as if it were an abstraction, or a mere rubric under which all living beings are enrolled. At a certain time, in certain points of space, a very visible current origi- nated. This current of life, traversing the bodies which it has successively organized, passing from generation to generation, has divided itself among species and dispersed itself among individuals with- out losing anything of its force. — " Creative Evolu- tion." Bergson's philosophy would apparently lead to a conception of God more Arminian than Calvin- istic, if it is permissible to apply the old theological categories ; a God perhaps conscious, personal, and anthropomorphic, but not omnipotent and unchange- able. In fact it has a striking similarity to the conception of the Alexandrian Gnostics, a creative force struggling against the intractability of inert matter and triumphing by subtlety and persistence. The motto of Louis XI, Divide et impera, applies here in a different sense : God, thus defined, has nothing of the already made : He is unceasing life, action, freedom. Crea- tion, so conceived, is not a mystery; we experience it in ourselves when we act freely. . . . It is as if a vague and formless being whom we may call as we will, man or superman, had sought to realize himself, and had succeeded only by abandon- ing part of himself on the way. The losses are represented by the rest of the animal world and even [96] HENRI BERGSON by the vegetable world. — "Creative Evolution", pp. 248, 266. According to this view, the world is gradually coming to life, acquiring a consciousness. Matter is an Undine in search of a soul. A Rodin statue with human forms emerging from the unhewn stone is Bergson's philosophy in marble. We see again Milton's " tawny lion pawing to get free his hinder parts." We hear again Faust's translation of the Logos : " In the beginning was the Act." But I must refrain from imposing such analogies upon an author who has taken pains to clothe his thought in fresh language in order to be free from the connotations of the old. Let Bergson summarize his theory of evolution in his own words : Life as a whole, from the initial impulsion that thrust it into the world, will appear as a wave that rises, and which is opposed by the descending move- ment of matter. On the greater part of its surface, at different heights, the current is converted by matter into a vortex. At one point alone it passes freely, dragging with it the obstacle which will weigh on its progress but will not stop it. At this point is human- ity; it is our privileged situation. On the other hand, this rising wave is consciousness, and, like all con- sciousness, it includes potentialities without number which interpenetrate and to which consequently neither the category of unity nor that of multiplicity is appropriate, made as they both are for inert matter. [97] MAJOR PROPHETS OF TO-DAY The matter that it bears along with it, and in the interstices of which it inserts itself, alone can divide it into distinct individualities. On flows the current, running through human generations, subdividing itself into individuals. This subdivision was vaguely indicated in it, but could not have been made clear without matter. Thus souls are continually being created, which, nevertheless, in a certain sense pre- existed. They are nothing else than the little rills into which the great river of life divides itself, flow- ing through the body of humanity. The movement of the stream is distinct from the river bed, although it must adopt its winding course. Consciousness is distinct from the organism it animates, although it must undergo its vicissitudes. As the possible actions which a state of consciousness indicates are at every instant beginning to be carried out in the nervous centers, the brain underlines at every instant the motor indications of the state of consciousness ; but the interdependency of consciousness and brain is limited to this ; the destiny of consciousness is not bound up on that account with the destiny of cerebral matter. Finally, consciousness is essentially free ; it is freedom itself ; but it cannot pass through matter without settling on it, without adapting itself to it ; this adaptation is what we call intellectuality ; and the intellect, turning itself back toward active, that is to say, free, consciousness, naturally makes it enter into the conceptual forms into which it is accus- tomed to see matter fit. It will, therefore, always perceive freedom in the form of necessity; it will always neglect the part of novelty or of creation inherent in free act; it will always substitute for action itself an imitation, artificial, approximate, obtained by compounding the old with the old and [9«] HENRI BERGSON the same with the same. Thus, to the eyes of a philosophy that attempts to reabsorb intellect in intuition, many difficulties vanish or become light. But such a doctrine does not only facilitate specula- tion, it gives us also more power to act and to live. For, with it, we feel ourselves no longer isolated in humanity, humanity no longer seems isolated in the nature that it dominates. As the smallest grain of dust is bound up with our entire solar system, drawn along with it in that undivided movement of descent which is materiality itself, so all organized beings, from the humblest to the highest, from the first origins of life to the time in which we are, and in all places as in all times, do but evidence a single im- pulsion, the inverse of the movement of matter, and in itself indivisible. All the living hold together, and all yield to the same tremendous push. The animal takes its stand on the plant, man bestrides animality, and the whole of humanity, in space and in time, is one immense army galloping beside and before and behind each of us in an overwhelming charge able to beat down every resistance and clear the most formidable obstacles, perhaps even death. — "Creative Evolution", p. 269. How to Read Bergson Read the last first. Begin with "Creative Evolu- tion", for this is the most comprehensive exposition of his philosophy and is written in a less technical style than his earlier works. But the reader must remember that a knowledge of these is presupposed, and Bergson has here taken for granted what he has [99] MAJOR PROPHETS OF TO-DAY written two other large volumes to prove ; namely, that time cannot be adequately represented in the forms of space, and that mind is not rigidly bound to matter. Bergson is unexcelled by any modern philosopher except William James in brilliancy of style and originality of illustration. "Creative Evolution" treats of such a variety of questions, biological, psychological, and metaphysical, that any intelligent reader will find something in it that will arouse new trains of thought. And if the intelligent reader finds passages which he cannot understand, he may console himself with the reflection that there are others who have been likewise baffled. Count Keyserling, who has the brain of a German meta- physician, says of Bergson that "his philosophy is perhaps the most original achievement since the days of Immanuel Kant", but he adds, "Many thoughts on which Bergson appears to lay great weight arouse in me not the shade of an idea." But he ascribes Bergson's obscurity to the fact that "he does not start from abstract principles ; he begins in direct consciousness, in concrete life ", so perhaps the ordi- nary reader may have in this respect an advantage over a Kantian student like Count Keyserling. The student of philosophy may prefer to trace the development of Bergson's thought in its logical and chronological order. He will in that case begin with the " Essai sur les donnees immediates de la con- science" (1889), and proceed to" MatiereetMemoire" (1896), and end with "Evolution creatrice" (1907). These are published by Felix Alcan, Paris, in his " Bibliotheque de Philosophic contemporaine." The "Essay on the Immediate Data of Consciousness" appears under the less cumbrous title of "Time and Free Will" in the translation of F. L. Pogson (Mac- [100] HENRI BERGSON millan). "Matter and Memory" is translated by- Nancy Margaret Paul and W. Scott Palmer (Mac- millan). It may not be improper to note that the British edition of the Essay costs nearly four times as much as the French and is twice as heavy. "Crea- tive Evolution", translated by Arthur Mitchell, is printed in this country by Henry Holt & Company. Bergson's lecture on Dreams, translated by E. E. Slosson, is published in book form by B. W. Huebsch, New York. Those who read French but do not wish to attack one of the larger works will find convenient the summary of his philosophy with illustrative selec- tions made by one of his former pupils, Rene Gillouin, and published in "Les Grands Philosophes" by Louis M-ichaud, Paris. The German reader will find in A. Steenbergen's "Bergsons Intuitive Philosophic", Jena, an epitome and critique. "Time and Free Will" contains an admirable bibliography, including the most important dis- cussions of Bergson's philosophy that have appeared in eight languages up to 191 1. The most interesting introduction to Bergson is the article published by Professor James in the Hibbert Journal, April, 1909, and reprinted in his Pluralistic Universe. This has the advantage of M. Bergson's indorsement, for when Professor Pitkin of Columbia attempted to show that James was wrong in claiming Bergson as an ally ("James and Bergson, or Who is Against Intellect ?" in Journal of Philosophy, Psychology and Scientific Method, April 28, 1910), Bergson replied that James had not misinterpreted him but had said what he meant in better words than his (same Jour- nal, July 7, 1 9 10). Other brief expositions of Berg- son's philosophy are the articles by H. Wildon Carr [101] MAJOR PROPHETS OF TO-DAY in Proc. Aristotelian Society, 1909 and 19 10, and Hibbert Journal, July, 1910 ; by J. Solomon in Mind, January, 191 1 (both these now in book form also); by Arthur Balfour on "Creative Evolution and Philosophic Doubt" in the decennial number of the Hibbert Journal; "Bergson's Philosophy and the Idea of God," by H. C. Corrance, and "Syndicalism in its Relation to Bergson," by T. Rhondda Williams, both in Hibbert Journal of January, 1914. Professor Arthur O. Lovejoy of Johns Hopkins criticizes "The Practical Tendencies of Bergsonianism" in the International Journal of Ethics, April and July, 191 3. Bergson's London lectures on the soul are summar- ized in the Educational Review, January, 191 2. Santayana's "Winds of Doctrine" (Scribner) con- tains an interesting chapter on Bergson's philosophy. Of the voluminous controversial literature in France it is only possible to mention a few recent titles: R. Gillouin, "La Philosophic de Bergson" (Grasset) ; J. Segond, "L'Intuition Bergsonienne" (Alcan) ; J. Desaymard, "La Pensee d'Henri Berg- son" (Mercure de France). The most conspicuous of the opponents of Bergson are : Rene Berthelot in "Un Romanticisme utilitaire," tome II, "Le Pragma- tisme chez Bergson" (Alcan); and Julien Benda in "Le Bergsonisme ou une Philosophic de la Mobilite ", and "Reponse aux Defenseurs du Bergsonisme" (Mercure de France). "Bergson for Beginners", by Darcy B. Kitchin (Macmillan) gives a summary of his works and adds some interesting observations on the relation of Bergson to the English philosophers James Ward and Herbert Spencer. Other recent expositions and criticisms are "The Philosophy of Bergson", by A. D. Lindsay; "A Critical Examination of Bergson's [102] HENRI BERGSON Philosophy", by J. McKellar Stewart; "An Exam- ination of Professor Bergson's Philosophy ", by David Balsillie ; "Bergson and the Modern Spirit", by G. R. Dodgson (American Unitarian Assoc, Boston). But the best volume to serve as an intro- duction to Bergson is that previously mentioned, "The New Philosophy of Henri Bergson ", by Edouard Le Roy (Holt). A list of the most important of the books and articles on the subject in all languages up to 1913 comprising more than five hundred titles was pub- lished by the Columbia University Press on the occa- sion of Bergson's visit, "A Contribution to a Bibliog- raphy of Henri Bergson." [i°3l CHAPTER III HENRI POINCARE The scientist does not study nature because it is useful ; he studies it because he delights in it, and he delights in it because it is beautiful. If nature were not beautiful, it would not be worth knowing, and if nature were not worth knowing, life would not be worth living. Of course I do not here speak of that beauty that strikes the senses, the beauty of qualities and of appearances ; not that I undervalue such beauty, far from it, but it has nothing to do with science ; I mean that profounder beauty which comes from the harmonious order of the parts, and which a pure intelligence can grasp. This it is which gives body, a structure so to speak, to the iridescent appearances which flatter our senses, and without this support the beauty of these fugitive dreams would be only imperfect, because it would be vague and always fleeting. On the contrary, intellectual beauty is sufficient unto itself, and it is for its sake, more perhaps than for the future good of humanity, that the scientist devotes himself to long and difficult labors. It is, therefore, the quest of this special beauty, the sense of the harmony of the cosmos, which makes us choose the facts most fitting to contribute to this harmony, just as an artist chooses from among the features of his model those which perfect the picture and give it character and life. And we need not [104] HENRI POINCARE fear that this instinctive and unavowed preposses- sion will turn the scientist aside from the search for the true. One may dream a harmonious world, but how far the real world will leave it behind ! The greatest artists that ever lived, the Greeks, made their heavens ; how shabby it is beside the true heavens, ours ! — Poincare's "The Value of Science," p. 8. Such language as this is extremely disconcerting to those who hold the popular notion of science and scientists ; regarding science as a vague im- pending mass of solid fact, immutable, inexorable, threatening the extinction of all such things as art, sentiment, poetry, and religion, only to be diverted by a determination to remain ignorant of it ; re- garding men of science as mere calculating machines, mechanically grinding out logical grist for utilitarian purposes. Mathematical astronomy is surely one of the sciences, the most rigid, remote, and recondite of the sciences. Yet here is the leading mathemati- cal astronomer of the age talking about it as though it were one of the fine arts, a thing of beauty that the artist creates for his own delight in the making of it and shapes in accordance with his own ideas of what is harmonious. Now we cannot throw out of consideration M. Poincare's opinion, on the ground that he did not know what he was talking about. A man who has [105] MAJOR PROPHETS OF TO-DAY made as much science as he has ought to know how science is made, and what for. To most of us na- ture — or to avoid hurting our own feelings let us rather say, opportunity — has denied the privilege of knowing this by experience. Consequently M. Poincare is an especially interesting man to study, for he has been willing to tell us not only what a man of science is, but also how it feels to be one. No other contemporary of equal eminence has been so frank and accommodating in the self-revelation of his methods or so willing to submit himself as a sub- ject of observation. We are admitted to the labora- tory of a mathematician, and we can watch the mechanism of scientific thought in action. So far as he is concerned, he has repudiated the idea that science is purely utilitarian in the most emphatic language. August Comte said that it would be idle to seek to know the composition of the sun, since this knowledge would be of no use to sociology. Against such a charge of uselessness Poincare elo- quently defended his science by showing the practi- cal value of astronomy even from Comte's point of view, but in conclusion asserted his own opinion very plainly : Was I wrong in saying that it is astronomy which has made us a soul capable of comprehending nature ; [106] HENRI POINCARE that under heavens always overcast and starless, the earth itself would have been for us eternally unintelli- gible ; that we should there have seen only caprice and disorder ; and that, not knowing the world, we should never have been able to subdue it ? What science could have been more useful ? And in thus speaking I put myself at the point of view of those who only value practical applications. Certainly, this point of view is not mine ; as for me, on the con- trary, if I admire the conquests of industry, it is, above all, because they free us from material cares, they will one day give to all the leisure to contem- plate nature. I do not say : Science is useful, be- cause it teaches us to construct machines. I say : Afachines are useful, because in working for us, they will some day leave us more time to make science. But finally it is worth remarking that between the two points of view there is no antagonism, and that man having pursued a disinterested aim, all else has been added unto him. — "Value of Science", p. 88. It is this insistence upon the aesthetic value of science that caused him to shrink from being called a "pragmatist", although those who accept that name have always laid unusual stress upon the aesthetic factor in thinking. But in his theory of knowledge Poincare is decidedly pragmatic, and no one has given a clear exposition or stronger expres- sion to the practical mode of thought by which the natural sciences have made their progress and which is now being extended to the fields of meta- physics, religion, ethics, and sociology. Poincare's [107] MAJOR PROPHETS OF TO-DAY favorite word is "convenient" (commode). Theo- ries are strictly speaking not to be classed as true or false. They are merely more or less convenient. For example : Masses are coefficients it is convenient to introduce into calculations. We could reconstruct all mechan- ics by attributing different values to all the masses. This new mechanics would not be in contradiction either with experience or with the general principles of dynamics. Only the equations of this new me- chanics would be less simple^ — " Science and Hypoth- esis", p. 76. We have not a direct intuition of simultaneity, nor of the equality of two durations. If we think we have this intuition, this is an illusion. We replace it by the aid of certain rules which we apply almost always without taking count of them. But what is the nature of these rules ? No general rule, no rigor- ous rule ; a multitude of little rules applicable to each particular case. These rules are not imposed upon us, and we might amuse ourselves by inventing others ; but they could not be cast aside without greatly complicating the laws of physics, mathe- matics, and astronomy. We therefore choose these rules, not because they are true, but because they are most convenient, and we may recapitulate them as follows : " The simultaneity of two events or the order of their succession, the equality of two dura- tions, are to be so defined that the enunciation of the natural laws may be as simple as possible ; in other words, all these rules, all these definitions, are only the fruit of an unconscious opportunism." — "Value of Science", p. 35. [ 108 ] HENRI POINCARE Time should be so defined that the equations of mechanics may be as simple as possible. In other words, there is not one way of measuring time more true than another. That which is generally adopted is only more convenient. Of two watches, we have no right to say that one goes true, the other wrong : we can only say that it is advantageous to conform to the indications of the first. — "Value of Science", p. 30. Behold then the rule we follow and the only one we can follow : when a phenomenon appears to us as the cause of another, we regard it as anterior. It is therefore by cause we define time. — "Value of Science", p. 32. Experience does not prove to us that space has three dimensions. It only proves to us that it is convenient to attribute three dimensions to it. — "Value of Science", p. 69. It has often been observed that if all the bodies in the universe were dilated simultaneously and in the same proportion we should have no means of per- ceiving it, since all our measuring instruments would grow at the same time as the objects themselves which they serve to measure. The world, after this dilatation, would continue on its course without anything apprising us of so considerable an event. — "Value of Science", p. 39. But Poincare goes farther and shows not only that two such worlds of different sizes would be absolutely indistinguishable, but that they would be equally indistinguishable if they were distorted in any manner so long as they corresponded with each other point by point. This conception of [109] MAJOR PROPHETS OF TO-DAY the relativity of space may be thought a little hard to grasp, but M. Poincare is kind enough to sug- gest a way by which any one may see it for himself if he has ten cents to admit him to one of those hilarious resorts where life-size concave and convex mirrors are to be seen. 1 You may think yourself a gentleman of proper figure, that is to say, some- what portly, and you look upon the tall slim shape that confronts you in the cylindrical mirror as absurdly misshapen. But you would find it diffi- cult to convince him of his deformity. His legs, as well as yours, fulfill the requirement that Lincoln laid down as their proper length ; that is, they reach from the body to the ground. If you touch your chin with your thumb and your brow with your forefinger, so does he. It occurs to you that here is a case where your knowledge of geometry would, if ever, prove useful, but when you appeal to it, you will find that the geometry of his queer-looking world is just as good as yours ; in fact, is just the same. You get a foot rule and measure yourself; 70 inches high, 14 inches in diameter at the equator, ratio 5 : 2. But meanwhile the mirror man is also meas- uring himself, and his dimensions come out exactly the same as yours, 70 and 14 and 5 : 2, for when he 1 "Science et Methode," p. 101. [HO] HENRI POINCARE holds the rule perpendicular it lengthens and when horizontal it shrinks. Lines that in your world are straight are curved in his, but you cannot prove it to him, for when he lays his straightedge against these curves of his, behold it immediately bends to correspond. By this time, finding it so difficult to prove to the mirror man that you are right and he is wrong, it occurs to you that perhaps he isn't, that he may have just as much reason as you for believing that his is the normal, well-proportioned world, and yours the distorted image of it. Since, then, you have no way of perceiving the absolute length, direction, or curvature of a line, your space may be as irregularly curved and twisted as it looks to be in the funniest of the mirrors, and you would not know it. Now the principle of the pragmatist is that anything that does not make any difference to anything else is not real. The reason why we have not been able to discover any differences be- tween the mirror space and our space, each consid- ered by itself, is because there is none. Or to return to the language of Poincare, " space is in reality amorphous and the things that are in it alone give it a form." Why do we say that space has three dimensions instead of two or four or more ? Why do we stick to an old fogy like Euclid when Riemann [in] MAJOR PROPHETS OF TO DAY and Lobachevski prollVr us new unci equally sclf- consistcnl systems of geometry wherein parallels may meet or part f Because : by natural selection our mind lias adapted itself to the conditions of the external world. It has adopted the geometry most advantageous to the species or, in other words, the most convenient. (leoinctry is not true, it is advantageous. Such language may pass without notice in uni- versity halls, for all scientists are more or less clearly conscious of the provisional and practical nature of the hypotheses and conventions they employ. But to the outside world it sounds startling. To some it seemed that the foundations of the universe were being undermined. Others saw in it a confes- sion of what Brunetiere had called "the bankruptcy of science" and openly rejoiced over the discomfiture of the enemy of the Church. Now Poincarc had chanced to use in discussing the relativity of motion the following illustration : Absolute space, that is to say, the mark to which it would be necessary to refer the earth to know whether it really moves, has no objective existence. Hence this affirmation "the earth turns round" has no meaning, since it can be verified by no experi- ment ; since Mich an experiment not only could not be cither realized or dreamed by the boldest Jules [m] HENRI POINCARE Verne but cannot be conceived of without contra- diction. Or rather these two propositions: "The earth turns round " and " it is more convenient to sup- pose the earth turns round" have the same meaning; there is nothing more in the one than in the other. — "Science and Hypothesis", p. 85. This remark was at once seized upon by the Catho- lic apologists, and the Galileo case, once closed by the voice of Rome, was reopened for the admission of this new evidence. If the Ptolemaic and the Copernican theories are equally true, and the choice between them is merely a matter of expediency, was not the Holy Inquisition justified in upholding the established theory in the interests of religion and morality ? Monsignor Bolo, an eminent and saga- cious theologian, announced in Le Matin of Febru- ary 20, 1908, that M. Poincare, the greatest mathe- matician of the century, says that Galileo was wrong in his obstinacy. To this Poincare replied in the whispered words of Galileo : "E pur si muove, Monseigneur." In a later discussion of the point, he explains that what he said about the rotation of the earth could be equally well applied to any other accepted hypoth- esis, even the very existence of an external world, for "these two propositions, . ' the external world exists' or 'it is more convenient to suppose that it ["3] MAJOR PROPHETS OF TO-DAY exists' have one and the same meaning." The Copernican theory is the preferable because it has a richer, more profound content, since if we assume the earth is stationary we have to invent other explanations for the flattening at the poles, the rota- tion of Foucault's pendulum, the trade winds, etc., while the hypothesis of a revolving earth brings all these together as the effects of a single cause. M. Le Roy, a Catholic pragmatist and a disciple of Bergson's, goes much further than Poincare in regard to the human element in science, holding that science is merely a rule of action and can teach us nothing of truth, for its laws are only artificial conventions. This view Poincare considered to be dangerously near to absolute nominalism and skepticism, and in his controversy with Le Roy 1 he showed that the scientist does not "create facts as Le Roy said, but merely the language in which he enunciates them." Of the contingence upon which Le Roy and Boutroux insist, Poincare would admit only that scientific laws can never be more than approximate and probable. Even in astron- omy, where the single and simple law of gravitation is involved, neither absolute certainty nor absolute accuracy can be attained. Therefore we cannot 1 Part III of "The Value of Science." ["4] -'VlZ $£?=^ ^ Wu/ HENRI POINCARE safely say that at a particular time Saturn will be at a certain point in the heavens. We must limit ourselves to the prediction that " Saturn will probably be near" such a point. In an address before the International Philo- sophical Congress at Bologna in April, 1910, Professor Poincare discussed again the question of whether the laws of nature may not change. He admitted that there is not a sole law that we can enunciate with the certainty that it has always been true in the past. Nevertheless, he concluded, there is nothing to hinder the man of science from keeping his faith in the principle of immutability, since no law can descend to the level of a secondary and limited law without being replaced by another law more general and more comprehensive. He con- sidered in particular the possibility that in the re- mote past the fundamental laws of mechanics would not hold, for since the energy of the world has been continually dissipating in the form of heat there must have been a time when bodies moved faster than they do now. But according to the recent theories of matter, no body can travel faster than light, and with velocities approaching that of light its mass is no longer constant but increases with its velocity. This, of course, would play havoc with all [US] MAJOR PROPHETS OF TO-DAY of Newton's laws, which then we should have to re- gard as limited in their scope to such ordinary condi- tions and moderate motion as we see about us now. But even at present we can hardly regard them with the same implicit confidence as formerly. Take, for example, Newton's law that action and reaction are equal and opposite. When a ball is fired from a cannon, the cannon recoils at the same time and with the same momentum that the ball goes forward. But suppose instead of a cannon we have a lamp with a reflector sending a beam of light into space. It has been deduced mathemati- cally and proved experimentally that light exerts a minute but measurable pressure on an object which it strikes. The reflector therefore recoils like the cannon, but where is the ball if light is an immaterial wave motion ? To be sure, if the ray of light strikes some planet out in space, it would give it an impulse equal and opposite to that originally imparted to the reflector on our earth. But what if the light goes on through vacant space and never hits anything at all ? A law that may have to wait several thousand years for its validation and may even fail of it altogether is not what the layman has in mind when he thinks of immutable and in- frangible laws governing the universe. [116] HENRI POINCARE But it is rather important just now that the lay- man gets to understand what the scientist means when he talks of laws, theories, and hypotheses. For we are in the midst of a stupendous revolution in science. Our nicely arranged nineteenth century cosmos seems to be dissolving into chaos again. We have seen the elements melt with fervent heat and we can no longer rely upon the uniformity of atomic weights. The laws of the conservation of matter and energy, which were the guiding stars of research to the last generation, are becoming dimmed. The old-fashioned ether, in its time a useful but never entirely satisfactory contrivance, for it had to be patched up repeatedly with divers new properties to enable it to bear the various duties thrust upon it, seems no longer competent to stand the strain and may have to be sent to the scientific scrap-heap at any moment. We hear physicists of supposed sanity assert that all bodies contract in the direction of their motion and that their weight varies with their speed and the direction in which they are going. We read of "atoms of light," and of corpuscles of electricity which, though they are but a thousandth part of the hydrogen atom, are caught and counted and weighed one by one. Now what puzzles the lay mind is the calmness [H7] MAJOR PROPHETS OF TO-DAY with which the scientists survey this crash of worlds and shock of systems. They do not have the mien of exposed impostors. They are not, like the augurs of decadent Rome, unable to meet without laughing in each other's faces. They do not resent the over- throw of their former idols. They have no fear of heretics, consequently no hatred for them. They regard all this iconoclasm with a mild curiosity quite in contrast to their intense and personal in- terest in science generally. It is hard to get out a quorum at the Association for the Advancement of Science to hear a discussion of the principle of relativity with all its revolutionary consequences. Compare this apparent indifference to the fate of fundamental principles in scientific circles with what would happen in a Presbyterian assembly if it should be proposed to eliminate predestination from the Westminster Confession or in an Episcopal convocation if the Virgin Birth were denied ; with what would happen in a stockholders' meeting if doubt were expressed as to the rights of capital, or in a socialist convention if the class conflict were questioned. Now the existence of the ether has the same importance to scientific thought that pre- destination has to theological or capitalism to eco- nomic thought. Its refutation or modification would [118] HENRI POINCARE be quite as upsetting to faith and practice. Yet scientists are men; they have red blood in their veins, and it not infrequently shows in their cheeks when they debate something that seems to them worth while. Pure theory rarely seems to them worth while because it is recognized as pure conven- tionality and convenience. The scientific man, especially the scientific in- vestigator, holds his theories with a light hand, but keeps a firm grip on his facts. This is just the opposite of the lay attitude toward science. If the layman is interested in knowing the speed of light, it is because he thinks that he learns from it that all space is filled with a rigid elastic solid, at which he cannot but wonder. The scientist is interested in the ether because it helps him in his calculation of the speed of light. A lecturer on wireless telegraphy will use in the course of the hour two or three more or less con- tradictory conceptions of electricity. If afterward you call his attention to the inconsistency and ask him which is right and which is wrong, you will not get a very satisfactory answer. He does not know and obviously does not care. You insist upon his telling you which theory he personally believes in. He really had not thought of "believ- [119] MAJOR PROPHETS OF TO-DAY' ing" in any of them. If he uses white chalk on the blackboard in preference to red, it is not because he denies the existence of red chalk and its occasional usefulness. So, too, the astronomer will speak of the sun's rising and in the next breath of the earth's turning toward the sun, quite innocent of his in- consistency. The botanist alludes to a certain flower as a poppy and again as Eschscholtzia. He means the same thing but is using different lan- guages ; in the first case English, in the second case I don't know what. It is eminently desirable that people should have faith in science, but in order to do that they must have the same sort of faith in it that the scientist has. Otherwise they will regard it as a lot of in- genious fancies which are proved false by each suc- ceeding generation. Science is moulting just now and looks queer. The public ought to understand clearly that the process means growth and not disease. There is another reason now for the popularization of the scientific mode of thought. It is beginning to be applied where entirely different conceptions have so far prevailed — to art, ethics, religion, sociology, and the like. This is already arousing a great commotion and will cause more before the process is complete. It will, for example, [120] HENRI POINCARE involve the rewriting and to a large extent the reinvestigation of history. Poincare has hinted at this in a passage which seems to me of very great significance : Carlyle has somewhere said something like this : "Nothing but facts are of importance. John Lack- land passed by here. Here is something that is admirable. Here is a reality for which I would give all the theories in the world." Carlyle was a fellow countryman of Bacon, but Bacon would not have said that. That is the language of the histo- rian. The physicist would say rather : "John Lack- land passed by here. That makes no difference to me for he never will pass this way again." — "Science and Hypothesis", p. 102. The aim of science is prevision, and I believe that this will eventually be recognized as the true aim of all knowledge. The historian, or let me say rather the antiquarian, for the historian may have the scientific temperament, values facts for their rarity. The scientist values facts for their common- ness. A unique fact, if there be such, would have no possible interest to him. The antiquarian goes about looking for things, facts, or furniture, which have been of importance in the past. The scientist is looking only for things that will be of importance in the future. According to Poincare, the proper choice of facts [ 121 ] MAJOR PROPHETS OF TO-DAY is the first duty of the scientist. He must be able to pick out the significant and reject all the rest. "Invention consists in avoiding the constructing of useless combinations and in constructing the useful combinations which are in infinite minority. To invent is to discern, to choose." It is most de- sirable to bring together elements far distant from one another. Such unions are mostly sterile, but when this is not the case, they are the most fruit- ful of all. The successful scientist does not, like a shopper, look over one by one all available samples and pick out what he wants. Life is too short. The unsuitable ideas do not even present themselves to his mind. It is as if he were an examiner of second resort who only concerns himself with the candidates who have passed the first test. This preliminary sifting and sorting process is done largely by the unconscious mind, as Poincare shows by telling how he came to make his first mathe- matical discoveries : For a fortnight I labored to demonstrate that there could exist no function analogous to those that I have since called the fuchsian functions. 1 I was then 1 M. Poincare, in relating these experiences for their psychological interest, was kind enough to say that the non-mathematical reader need not be frightened at these barbarous names, for it is not at all necessary for him to know what they mean. [122] HENRI POINCARE very ignorant. Every day I seated myself at my work table and spent an hour or two there, trying a great many combinations, but I arrived at no result. One night when, contrary to my custom, I had taken black coffee and I could not sleep, ideas surged up in crowds. I felt them as they struck against one another until two of them stuck together, so to speak, to form a stable combination. By morning I had established the existence of a class of fuchsian functions, those which are derived from the hyper- geometric series. I had merely to put the results in shape, which only took a few hours. — "Science et Methode", p. 52. After working out the deductions from this dis- covery, he went on a geological excursion of the School of Mines. The distractions of travel took his mind from his mathematical labor. But at Constance, just as he was stepping into an omnibus for some excursion, the idea occurred to him, with- out any connection with his previous thoughts, that his fuchsian functions were identical in their transformations with those of the non-Euclidian geometry. He took his seat in the omnibus and continued his conversation, feeling absolutely cer- tain of his discovery, which he worked out at his leisure on his return to his home at Caen. He next devoted himself to the study of arith- metical questions, without reaching any results of im- portance and without suspecting that this subject [123] MAJOR PROPHETS OF TO-DAY could have the slightest connection with his earlier researches. Disgusted at his lack of success, he went to pass some days at the seashore, where he was occupied with other things. One day as he was walking on the cliff, the thought came to him, brief, sudden, and certain as usual, that he had been em- ploying the same transformations in his arithmetical and geometrical work. He thereupon went back to Caen and undertook the systematic application of his theory. But he was stopped by an insurmountable obstacle, and while in this perplexity he was called away to his military service at Mont-Valerien, where he had no time for mathematics. One day while walking on the street, the solution of the difficulty appeared to him in a flash. He did not try to think it out at the time, but after his release from the army, he completed his memoir without trouble. These fascinating glimpses into the soul of a mathematician will remind the reader of many other instances of such subconscious assistance on record and doubtless of personal experiences as well. We think of Alfred Russel Wallace at Ternate, his brain inflamed with tropical fever, seized with the sudden inspiration of the theory of natural selection, the key to the biological problems which had per- [ 124] HENRI POINCARE plexed him for so many months. How fortunate that his clerical opponents did not know of this and so could not dismiss evolution as the dream of a diseased imagination. But as James says in his "Varieties of Religious Experience", we have no right to discountenance unwelcome theories as feverish fancies, since for all we know 102 may be a more favorable temperature for truth to germ- inate and sprout in than the ordinary bloodheat of 9 8°. We are reminded, too, of Kekule of Bonn puzzling over the constitution of benzene, trying in vain to satisfy six carbon atoms with six hydrogen atoms when they wanted fourteen. In the evening as he sat by the fire, his wearied brain refused to rest, and he seemed to see the four-handed carbon imps dancing with their one-armed hydrogen partners on the floor. Suddenly six of them joined hands in a ring and the problem was solved. Since then the benzene sextet has been dancing through hun- dreds of volumes and has added millions annually to the wealth of Germany. Professor Hilprecht of the University of Pennsylvania has told how a Chaldean priest, custodian of the "Temple Library", appeared to him in a dream and showed him how to put together the fragments of a cuneiform inscrip- [125] MAJOR PROPHETS OF TO-DAY tion which he had for a long time been striving in vain to translate. Then there was Stevenson in Samoa, writing for dear life, but not failing to give credit to his "brownies" for doing a large part of his work for him. But the brownies do not work unbidden, and they will not make bricks without straw. Poincare insists upon the necessity of the preliminary period of conscious effort without which these sub- liminal inspirations never come and the subsequent period of verification, development, and applica- tion, without which they are fruitless. Such ideas came to him most often in the evening or morning when he was in bed and half awake. He did not re- gard the operations of his unconscious mind as merely mechanical. On the contrary, it is dis- tinguished by the power of choice, selecting and presenting to the conscious ego only those com- binations that seem profitable and important. This choice is made, in Poincare's opinion, under the guidance of the artistic instinct. The usual combinations are precisely the most beautiful ; I mean those which can best charm that special sensibility which all mathematicians recognize but at which the profane are tempted to smile. Among the numerous combinations which the sub- liminal self has blindly formed, almost all are without [126] HENRI POINCARE interest and without utility. For that reason they have no action upon the aesthetic sensibility and never come into consciousness. Only those that are harmonious and consequently both useful and beauti- ful are capable of moving that special sensibility of the geometrician of which I spoke, and which, once excited, calls our attention to them and so gives them the chance to become conscious. — "Science et Methode", p. 58. Poincare, if we may believe what he says on this point, was a poor chess player and absolutely in- capable of adding up a column of figures correctly. But the reader should beware of the common fal- lacy of reversing a proposition of this kind and as- suming that if he, too, makes mistakes in addition he has the mind of a great mathematician. Poin- care's memory was, however, exceptionally good, especially for figures and formulas. On returning from a walk he was able to recall the numbers of the carriages he had met. When he was in the Polytech- nic School he followed the courses in mathematics without taking a note and without looking at the syllabus provided by the professor. He was a rapid mental calculator, using auditive imagery rather than visual. He associated colors with the sound of words. 1 1 Dr. Toulouse has devoted a volume of his series of medico-psycholog- ical studies of men of genius to observations on the memory, reaction time, mode of thinking, habits, and physiological constitution of Henri Poincare (Paris: Flammarion). [127] MAJOR PROPHETS OF TO-DAY In this connection may be quoted an anecdote told by M. Jules Sageret: 1 At a conference in the Superior School of Telegraphy the director called upon him to discuss a very difficult problem in the propagation of the electric current. Poincare complied and solved the problem without taking any time in preparation. After the conference the director felicitated him on the solution. "Yes," said Poincare, "I found the value of x, but is it in kilograms or kilometers ?" Poincare did not find it profitable to work more than two hours at a time. His custom was to stay at his desk from ten o'clock to noon and from five to seven in the afternoon, never working in the even- ing after dinner. He drank wine at meals, but never smoked. He went to bed at ten and rose at seven, but did not sleep soundly. He was a blond, five feet five inches in height and weighed 154 pounds. His head was unusually large, especially in breadth. His eyes were myopic and unsteady. He stood stoopingly with his wrinkled forehead upturned. He spoke somewhat slowly and with a distraught air, as though he were thinking of something else, even though he might be at the time interested and keenly observant. 1 Revue des Hies, 1909, p. 488. [128] HENRI POINCARE He talked English and German readily and read Latin and Italian. He was fond of music, especially Wagner. Of the absent-mindedness that had been char- acteristic of him from youth, many stories are told. Like most mathematicians he was fond of walking while thinking, his fingers opening and closing in an unconscious gesture. One day on his return from a walk he was surprised to find that he was carrying a wicker cage, new and happily empty. He could not imagine how he had got it, but retracing his steps he found upon the sidewalk the stock of the basket maker whom he had innocently de- spoiled. When as an engineering student he made a trip to Austria, his mother was afraid he would drop his portfolio sometime without noticing it. So, real- izing doubtless that his memory was auditory, she sewed little bells on it. The plan was suc- cessful. His mother found on his return that he had brought back in his valise not only the port- folio but also an Austrian bed sheet neatly folded, which, some morning, he had mistaken for his night clothes. These and similar anecdotes were told by M. Frederic Masson when he welcomed M. Poincare [129] MAJOR PROPHETS OF TO-DAY into the Academie Francaise, January 28, 1909, 1 and it must have been a trifle embarrassing to the new member to listen to such a minute analysis of his life and character addressed to him in the second person. How deftly the director of the Academy mingled eulogy and raillery may be seen from a quotation : " You did not delay revealing your vocation and will be justly cited as the most precocious of infant prodigies. You were nine months old when for the first time as night came your eyes were directed toward the sky. You saw there a star light up. You persistently pointed it out to your mother, who was also your nurse. Then you discovered another with some astonishment, and your reason cried ' Enco lo la has /' A third, a fourth, more cries of joy and equal enthusiasm. You had to be put to bed because you became so excited discovering stars. That evening was your first contact with the infinite, and you had inaugurated your courses in astronomy, the youngest professor known." Henri Poincare was born April 29, 1854, at Nancy, 1 Masson's address may be found in Le Bon's bibliography ; also in Popular Science Monthly. An entertaining account of Poincare's recep- tion into the Academy was written for Le Figaro by Andre Beaunier and translated for the Boston Transcript. [130] HENRI POINCARE where his ancestors had long been established. His grandfather was a pharmacist and his father a physi- cian of more than usual scholarship. The name, he said, was originally Pontcare, for, one can imag- ine a square bridge but not a square point. But the philologists who took the question up discovered in the register of the university a student named "Petrus Pugniquadrati" in 1403 and "Jehan Poing- quarre" in 1418, so the name Poincare meant "clenched-fist." His cousin, Raymond Poincare, son of a distinguished engineer, has long been one of the most prominent figures in the political world, a member of the Academy, senator, minister, and is now president of the French republic. In the Nancy lycee he led all his classes and showed a special aptitude for history and literature. At the age of thirteen he composed a five-act tragedy in verse, and since he was a Lorrainer, the heroine was of course Jeanne d'Arc. But as soon as he caught sight of a geometry, his true vocation be- came apparent. His instructor ran to his home and announced to his mother: "Madame, your son will be a mathematician." Passing through the Polytechnic School he en- tered the National School of Mines, and for a few years after graduation he served as engineer in the [131] MAJOR PROPHETS OF TO-DAY Government departments of mines and railroads. At the age of twenty-seven he was called to a chair of mathematics in the University of Paris, where he remained, also filling the positions of Professor of Astronomy in the Polytechnic School and Professor of Theoretical Electricity in the Professional School of Posts and Telegraphs. He was received into the Academy of Sciences at the early age of thirty- two, and at the time of his election to the French Academy he had been honored by election to mem- bership by thirty-five foreign academies. He took his seat in the Academie francaise very appro- priately as the successor of Sully-Prudhomme, who likewise was an engineer by profession and a philosopher by temperament. To Poincare as well as to Sully-Prudhomme, science appealed to the aesthetic sense as a thing of beauty and an in- spiration to the imagination. He married at the age of twenty-seven and had four children, three daughters and a son. His younger sister is the wife of the philosopher, Emile Boutroux, well known in this country from the lectures he gave at Harvard and Princeton. Poincare was influential in introducing improved methods in teaching mathematics, promoting the use of natural and dynamical methods instead of [132] HENRI POINCARE the abstract and static methods of Euclid and Legendre. He was skeptical in regard to religion and indifferent to politics. When called upon to contribute to a symposium on the old question of the scholar in politics, 1 he responded that savants like all citizens ought to interest themselves in the affairs of the country. But politics has become a profession, and a savant who entered into it would have to devote half his time to public business if he would be useful and the other half to his con- stituents if he wished to keep his seat, so he would have no time for science. When asked for his opinion on woman suffrage, 2 he replied as follows : I see no theoretical reason for refusing the political suffrage to women, married or not. They pay taxes the same as men, and they contribute their sons, so it is even heavier upon them than upon men. Per- haps woman suffrage is the sole means of combating alcoholism. I fear only the clerical influence over women. Of the achievements that have given M. Poin- care his world-wide fame I am not competent to speak. Readers who would know the significance and value of his work on fuchsian, hyper-fuchsian, theta-fuchsian, abelian, and elliptical functions must 1 Remit blew, June 4, 1907, p. 708. 2 La Revue, 1910. [133] MAJOR PROPHETS OF TO-DAY go further for the information. I can only quote the opinions of those most competent to express an opinion as to his contributions to science. In 1905 he received the Bolyai Prize of ten thousand crowns, which is awarded by the Hungarian Academy of Sciences every five years for the best work in mathematics done during that period. The official report by Gustave Rados begins as follows : " Henri Poincare is incontestably the first and most powerful investigator of the present time in the domain of mathematics and mathematical physics. His strongly marked individuality permits us to recognize in him a savant endowed with intuition, who knows how to draw from the exhaustless well of geometrical and mechanical intuitions the elements and the origins of his profound and penetrating researches, yet using besides the most admirable logical power in working out his conceptions. In addition to his brilliant inventive genius we must recognize in him an ability for the finest and most fruitful generalizations of mathematical relations, which has often enabled him to push back, far be- yond the point where others have hitherto been stopped, the limits of our knowledge in different branches of pure and applied mathematics. This was shown already in his first work on automorphic [134] HENRI POINCARE functions with which he began the series of his brilliant publications which must be classed with the greatest mathematical discoveries of all time." In this country Poincare has become known largely through the efforts of Professor George Bruce Halsted of the State Normal School of Greeley, Colorado, who has translated his philosophical works and has for many years been indefatigable in spreading the new gospel of the non-Euclidian geometry. Professor Halsted has at my request kindly contributed the following account of one of Poincare's astronomical triumphs and of the visit that Professor Sylvester of Johns Hopkins paid to Poincare many years ago : "The kernel of Poincare's power lies in an oracle Sylvester often quoted from Hesiod : Only the genius knows how much more the part is than the whole. He penetrates at once the divine simplicity of the perfectly general case, and thence descends, as from Olympus, to the special concrete earthly particulars. Thus his memoir of 1885, which Sir George Darwin says came to him as a revelation, on a rotating fluid mass, and his book 'Les Methodes nouvelles de la Mecanique celeste,' 1892-1899, were ready with prevision when the shocking special case occurred of Phcebe, ninth satellite of. Saturn, discovered in [i3Sl MAJOR PROPHETS OF TO-DAY 1900, afterward found, incredible as it seemed, to be revolving in the direction contrary to that of all the others. It follows that Saturn himself orig- inally rotated in the reverse direction. Again, on February 29, 1908, was found an eighth satellite of Jupiter, Jviii, revolving round Jove in the shock- ing Phoebe retrograde direction. Zeus must have turned over. All the planets have turned over, and some are now making another somersault. Moreover, Jviii does not even revolve in a closed orbit; its path is an open twister of unreturning turns. "For Poincare the inexhaustible source, the lamp of Aladdin, has ever been the non-Euclidian geometry. In him the Bolyai-Lobachevski-Riemann germ flowers fair. "Personally Poincare is the most lovable of men. At our very first meeting I realized that I had already been intimately associated with him for two years in the person of Sylvester. I told him the story of Sylvester's discovery of him, and he showed me how vividly and tenderly reconnaissant he was toward the great old master. "Midsummer, and up a stuffy Paris stairway labors a giant gnome, beard on enormous chest, fortunately no neck, for no neck could upbear such [136] HENRI POINCARE a monstrous head, bald but for the inverted halo of hair collaring its juncture with the broad shoul- ders; small inefficient hands holding big hat and damp handkerchief; breath puffing with the heat and exertion. It is Sylvester, self-driven to seek out the source of new creations strangely akin to his own. At the sought door, open, he pauses, seized by doubt, the person within is so young, so slight, so dazed. Can this be the new incarnation of the eternal world-genius of geometry ? But the aloof sensitiveness of the face, the broad sphericity of the head reassure him. This is Henri Poincare. And so the old King finds the True Prince, who in turn finds himself at last truly comprehended, anointed to the succession, and given high heart to establish his dominion." The sudden death of Henri Poincare, July 18, 1912, at the age of fifty-eight, shocked the scientific world. This marvelous thinking machine was stopped, this repository of the exact sciences was lost to the world, by the trifling accident of a clot of blood catching in one of the valves of the heart. He had gone to the hospital for a minor operation which was apparently successful. Ten days later he was pronounced well enough to leave and was dressing when he was struck down. [137] MAJOR PROPHETS OF TO-DAY The funeral service at the church of Saint-Jacques- du-Haut-Pas was attended by a remarkable assem- blage of men of science and letters, government officials, and representatives of foreign countries. At the Montparnasse cemetery orations were deliv- ered by M. Guist'hau, Minister of Public Instruction, Jules Claretie of the Academie francaise, M. Appell, dean of the Faculty of Sciences, M. Bigourdan of the Observatory, Paul Painleve of the Academy of Sciences, and General Cornille, Commandant of the Ecole polytechnique. M. Painleve said of him : " The life of Henri Poincare was one intense and uninterrupted meditation, that despotic and pitiless meditation which bows the shoulders and bends the head, which absorbs the vital influx of one's being and too soon uses up the body it possesses. " Henri Poincare was not only a great creator in the positive sciences ; he was a great philosopher and a great writer. Certain of his aphorisms remind one of Pascal : 'Thought is only a flash between two long nights, but this flash is everything.' His style followed the movement of his thought; brief and arresting formulas, often paradoxical when isolated, joined by hasty explanations which discard the easy details and say only the essential. This is why superficial critics have accused him of being [138] HENRI POINCARE ' incoherent ' ; the truth being that without some previous scientific education, such logical movement is difficult to follow. Mice cannot keep step with a lion. ' " It is likewise a lack of comprehension of his philos- ophy as a whole that has led certain commentators to think they found a transcendental skepticism in his critical studies of the principles of science. Must he not have had faith in science who has written 'The search for truth ought to be the aim of our activity ; it is the sole aim worthy of it ' ? His philosophy of the rational science will live as long as his own discoveries. The totality of the mathemat- ical sciences seemed to him like a gigantic measur- ing instrument, harmoniously adjusted and well adapted for the evaluation of the phenomena of the universe. There remains one trait of his character that I cannot pass over in silence ; that is his admi- rable intellectual sincerity. He gave himself, he gave to all, so far as words permit, the whole of his thought and even the mechanism of his thought. In his last publication, appearing only a few days before his death and dealing with the problem of the stability of our universe, he excused himself for giving out such incomplete results : "'It would seem under these conditions that I ought to abstain from all publication until I had 1 139] MAJOR PROPHETS OF TO-DAY solved the problem, but after the fruitless efforts I have made for months, it appeared to me wisest to let the problem ripen while I let it alone for some years. That would have been very well if I had been sure of taking it up again some day, but at my age I could not be sure of that. Besides, the importance of the subject is too great, and the results already obtained are on the whole too considerable for me to be content to leave them altogether useless. I hope that the geometricians who will interest them- selves in this problem and who will doubtless be more fortunate than I will be able to get something out of it and make use of it in finding the path they should pursue.' " What words can be added to this scientific testa- ment, so simple and so noble, of a life altogether consecrated, without faltering even to the last hour, to the search for truth ? For the first time in half a century this unparalleled brain has found repose." Poincare, as we have seen, was awake to the wider aspects of science. He was interested in its effects upon human life and conduct, although he himself was engaged in one of its most remote and abstract branches. Shortly before his death he discussed a question which nowadays arouses intense interest, the question of what effect the advance and popu- larization of science will have on ethics. Will science in destroying superstitions, in changing utterly the traditional way of regarding the universe [140] HENRI POINCARE and man, undermine the morality which forms the foundation of our civilization ? This question Poin- care answers in the negative. He believes that our moral instincts lie too deep to be affected by such a revolution in thought, but on the other hand he does not think, as some do, that science will ever be able of itself to provide the moral imperative. A few paragraphs from this essay, published post- humously in " Last Thoughts", may well serve as a conclusion to this sketch of his philosophy : There can be no scientific morality; but no more can there be immoral science. And the reason is simple ; it is a reason — how shall I say it ? — purely grammatical. If the premises of a syllogism are both in the indicative, the conclusion likewise will be in the indicative. For the conclusion to be put in the im- perative, it would be necessary that at least one of the premises should itself be in the imperative. Now, the principles of science, the postulates of geometry, are and can be only in the indicative ; still in this same mood are the experimental verities, and at the foundation of the sciences there is, there can be, nothing else. Hence, the most subtle dialec- tician may juggle with these principles as he will, combine them, frame them up one upon another; all he will get from them will be in the indicative. He will never obtain a proposition which shall say : do this, or don't do that ; that is to say, a proposition which confirms or contradicts morality. . . . Some therefore think that science will be destruc- [141] MAJOR PROPHETS OF TO-DAY tive ; they fear the ruin it will make and dread lest, where it shall have passed, society can no longer survive. Is there not in these fears a sort of internal con- tradiction ? If it is scientifically proved that such or such a custom, regarded as indispensable to the very existence of human society, had not in reality the importance attributed to it and deceived us only by its venerable antiquity, if that be proved, admit- ting this proof to be possible, will the moral life of humanity be shaken ? One of two things, either this custom is useful, and then a reasonable science can- not prove that it is not ; or else it is useless and we should not regret it. From the moment that we place at the foundation of our syllogisms one of those generous emotions which engender morality, it is still this emotion, and consequently it is still morality which we must find at the end of our whole chain of reasonings, if this has been conducted in accordance with the rules of logic. What is in danger of perish- ing is the non-essential, that which was merely an accident in our moral life ; the sole important thing cannot fail to be found in the conclusions since it is in the premises. . . . Science, right or wrong, is deterministic ; every- where it penetrates it introduces determinism. So long as it is only a question of physics or even of biol- ogy, this is unimportant. The domain of conscience remains inviolate. What will happen when mo- rality in turn shall become the object of science ? Is all despair, or if some day morality should accommodate itself to determinism, could it so adapt itself without dying from the effects ? So profound a metaphysical revolution would doubtless have much less influence upon morals than we think. [142] HENRI POINCARE It is of course understood that penal repression is not in question. What is called crime or punishment would be called sickness or prophylaxis, but society would retain intact its right, which is not to punifih, but simply the right of self-defense. What is more serious is that the idea of merit or demerit^ould have to disappear or be transformed. But v/e should continue to love the good man, as we love all that is beautiful; we should no longer h^ve the right to hate the vicious man, who wourd then inspire only disgust ; but is hate necessary ? Enough that we do not cease to hattvvice. Apart from that, Ml would go on as in the past. Instinct is stronger ahan all metaphysics, and even though one should \ have laid it bare, even if one should understand the secret of its force, its power would not thereby* be weakened. Is gravitation less irresistible since Newton ? The moral forces which guide us wovrid continue to guide us. 1 How to Read Poincare A complete analytical bibliography of Poincare's writings up to 1909 will be found in Ernest Lebon's "Henri Poincare" (Paris: Gaultier-Villars), which contains the biographical address of M. Frederic Masson on his admission to the French Academy and other eulogies. The list comprises 436 articles and books classified as follows : Mathematical analysis, 146; analytical and celestial mechanics, 1 Translated by Professor Halsted from " Science and Morals " in Dernieres Pensees. [143] MAJOR PROPHETS OF TO-DAY 85 ; mathematic physics, 78 ; scientific philosophy, 51; necrology, 17; miscellaneous, 59; an astonish- ing output for thirty years' work, considering the amount and difficulty of the labor involved in some of the contributions. T.V. mathematical works of Poincare are too difficult .for the layman and indeed for many pro- fessional lrathematicians. But there are five vol- umes of genei^' .interest published by Flammarion, Paris: "La Science et l'Hypothese", "La Valeur de la Science", "Science et Methode", "Savants et Ecrivains", and "Dernie^es Pensees." The first of these has had a widfc popularity, having been translated into Englisrfl German, Spanish, Hungarian, and Japanese. Tn; English translation of "Science and Hypothesis", by Professor George Bruce Halsted (New York : Science Press), which appeared in 1905, is introduced by an interest- ing criticism of Poincare's philosophy by Professor Josiah Royce, of Harvard. Two years later "The Value of Science" was published in this country (Science Press). "Science et Methode", though it contains some matter of more general interest than the others, particularly his account of the role played by unconscious mind in mathematical in- vention and his explanation of the newer conceptions of physics, has not yet appeared in English. The fourth volume, " Savants et Ecrivains ", is an evidence of Poincare's good will rather than his literary talents, as it consists of perfunctory addresses on deceased Academicians, the most extensive being that on Sully-Prudhomme, whose chair he holds. The fifth, published after his death, contains the essay on "Science and Morality" from which I have quoted, as well as interesting discussions of recent science [144] HENRI POINCARE and philosophy. The volume entitled "Founda- tions of Science" (published by the Science Press, New York) contains "Science and Hypothesis", "Value of Science", and "Science and Method" with the introduction by Professor Royce. From either of the two volumes, "Science and Hy- pothesis" or "The Value of Science", one can get an idea of Poincare's philosophy, which is of importance because it is not merely the philosophy of an indi- vidual but the point of view of most men of science nowadays, though rarely so definitely recognized or clearly expressed. Both books consist of a somewhat heterogeneous collection of studies on the method and logic of the mathematical and physical sciences, containing much that the general reader will have to skip because of its use of unfamiliar terms, but it will not be safe for him to skip any whole pages with- out looking them over carefully, for he is likely to find brilliant and suggestive sentences embedded in the most unpromising material. Separate articles by Poincare, forming chapters from the above-mentioned volumes, are accessible in American periodicals. "The Future of Mathe- matics" in Monist, Vol. XX, pp. 76-92; also in the 1909 Smithsonian Report, which is in every public library. "The Choice of Facts" in Monist, Vol. XIX, pp. 231-239. "The Principles of Mathemat- ical Physics" in the report of the St. Louis Congress of Arts and Sciences, Vol. I, pp. 604-624, and in Monist, Vol. XV, pp. 1-24. "The Bolyai Prize" (Report on the Work of Hilbert) in Science, May 19 and 26, 1911. "Mathematical Creations" in Monist, Vol. XX, pp. 321-335- "The Value of Science" was first published complete in the Popu- lar Science Monthly, September, 1906, and later; [I4S] MAJOR PROPHETS OF TO-DAY "Relativity of Space", "The New Logics", and "Chance" in the Monist, 1913. For biographical details besides the references already given in footnotes, see Nordmann's article on Poincare in Smithsonian Report, 191 2 ; Darbou's eulogy in Le Temps, December 15, 1913; and articles in Revue du Mois, February 10, 1913 ; La Revue de Paris, February 15, 191 3; The Nation, September 12, 191 2. [146] CHAPTER IV ELIE METCHNIKOFF Ever since the attempt has been made to discover a rational basis of morality, human nature, regarded essentially as good, has been taken as that basis. Religions and systems of philosophy, on the other hand, which have tried to find another foundation for morality, have regarded human nature as vicious at the roots. Science has been able to tell us that man, the descendant of animals, has good and evil qualities in his nature, and that his life is made un- happy by the evil qualities. But the constitution of man is not immutable, and perhaps it may be changed for the better. Morality should be based not on human nature in its existing vitiated condition, but on human nature, ideal, as it may be in the future. Before all things, it is necessary to try to amend the evolution of the human life, that is to say, to transform its disharmonies into harmonies (Orthobiosis). This task can be undertaken only by science, and to science the opportunity of accomplishing it must be given. — Metchnikoff's "The Nature of Man", p. 288. If Carlyle were writing now his "Heroes and Hero- Worship ", he would have to add — however much he would have disliked to — a chapter on " The [147] MAJOR PROPHETS OF TO-DAY Hero as Scientist." For the popular ideal of great- ness has been decidedly changed in the last half- century, and new standards of heroism have been established. Creative genius is beginning to take rank above destructive, and men are coming to recognize that the heroism of those who save life may be quite as great and is certainly more admi- rable than the heroism that is measured by a monu- ment of skulls. A striking proof of this shifting of public appreciation is afforded by the referendum carried out by the Petit Parisien a. few years ago to ascertain whom the French people regarded as the greatest names their country had produced during the nineteenth century. Fifteen million answers were sent in, so the result may be taken as repre- senting the consensus of opinion in a larger degree than such newspaper plebiscites generally do. It was to be expected that the name of Napoleon would head such a list. It would have in almost any other country except France. But France, always devoted to the cult of La Gloire and hitherto chiefly captivated by the bellicose form of it ; France, where every man is trained in the army and educated in schools established with the avowed purpose of increasing the military strength of the nation ; France ranks Napoleon fourth in the list of eminent [148] ELIE METCHNIKOFF men and puts at the head of it the name of a modest chemist and physiologist, Louis Pasteur. 1 It is a common observation that new ideas and social tendencies are apt to become manifest in France earlier than elsewhere. The French clock seems to be fast, always keeping a bit ahead of mean European time. If so, we may expect that before long other countries may come to give due honor and, what is more important, due opportunity and encouragement to the scientists, inventors, and authors who confer glory upon their country by benefiting the whole world. 1 The list is instructive because it shows clearly that the names first in the hearts of their countrymen are those who have become eminent in science and letters or have done signal service in the cause of the republic. The leading names are as follows : I, Pasteur (receiving 1,338,425 votes) ; 2, Victor Hugo (1,227,103); 3, Gambetta (1,155,672); 4, Napoleon Bonaparte (1,118,034); 5> Thiers (1,039,453); 6, Lazare Carnot, organ- izer of the republican army of the Revolution ; 7, Pierre Curie, discoverer of radium; 8, Alexandre Dumas, pere; 9, Dr. Roux, inventor of the diphtheritic serum; 10, Parmentier, introducer of the potato into France; II, Ampere, father of dynamic electricity; 12, Brazza, who secured the Kongo region for France; 13, Zola, novelist and defender of Dreyfus; 14, Lamartine, republican poet; 15, Arago, astronomer and physicist; 16, Sarah Bernhardt, actress ; 17, Premier Waldeck-Rousseau ; 18, Marshal MacMahon; 19, President Carnot; 20, Chevreul, chemist; 21, Chateaubriand; 22, Ferdinand de Lesseps, constructor of the Suez Canal and projector of the Panama; 23, Michelet; 24, Jacquard, in- ventor of the pattern loom; 25, Jules Verne; 26, President Loubet; 27, Deufert-Rochereau, defender of Belfort. [149] MAJOR PROPHETS OF TO-DAY The worthy successor of Pasteur as Director of the Institute he founded is the subject of this sketch, Elie Metchnikoff. The foremost of French medical men, he was neither born a Frenchman nor trained as a physician. Like Pasteur, he entered the realm of medicine by crossing the frontier of another science. Any man who pursues a straight line of thought will find that it leads him across many of those imaginary lines which have been drawn be- tween the sciences, just as an aviator crossing Europe in an air line pays no attention to the artificial and historic boundaries which divide state from state. Pasteur was a chemist, an inorganic chemist at that, and he was running down the cause of asym- metry in crystals when he found himself over in the field of biology. He had been engaged in sepa- rating the leftward skewed crystals of tartaric acid from those that skewed to the right by picking them out of the mixture by hand, but he discovered that he could throw the burden of selection off on an agency whose time was less valuable, namely, the yeast plant, which has an appetite for one kind of crystals, but disdains the other. This led him to the germ theory of life and of disease and enabled him to save millions annually to the farmer and stockraiser and unnumbered human lives. [ISO] U~** r4