not merely to congratulate you; we have in addition to thank you. In
your conquest of freedom, you have not been working for yourselves
alone, but for us likewise, for your brothers of the old west.
Human progress has been a secular evolution. Quickly getting out of
breath, flagging again and again, progress slackens, jibs at obstacles,
or lies down in the road like a lazy mule. To bring about a fresh start,
to ensure movement from stage to stage, there must be renewed awakenings
of energy, vigorous revolutionary outbursts, which stimulate the will,
brace the muscles, and blow the obstacle to smithereens. Our revolution
of 1789 was one of these outbursts of heroic energy, dragging mankind
out of the rut wherein it had become wedged, and compelling a fresh
start. But as soon as the effort has been made and the chariot set in
motion, mankind has been only too ready to stick fast in the mire again.
Long ago, the French revolution brought all that it could bring to
Europe. A time comes when ideas which were once fertilising, ideas which
were once the forces of renewed life, are no longer anything more than
idols of the past, forces tending to drag us backwards, additional
obstacles. Such has been the lesson of the world war, in which the
jacobins of the west have often proved the worst enemies of liberty.
For new times, new paths and new aspirations! Russian brothers, your
revolution has come to awaken this Europe of ours, drowsing over the
arrogant memories of whilom revolutions. March onward! We will follow
in your footsteps. The nations take it in turn to lead humanity. It is
for you, whose youthful vitality has been hoarded during centuries of
enforced inactivity, to pick up the axe where we have let it fall. In
the virgin forest of social injustice and social untruth, the forest in
which mankind has lost its way, make for us clearings and sunlit glades.
Our revolution was the work of the great bourgeois, of the men whose
race is now extinct. They had their rude vices and their rude virtues.
Contemporary civilisation has inherited their vices alone, their
fanaticism and their greed. It is our hope that your revolution will be
the uprising of a great people, hale, brotherly, humane, avoiding the
excesses into which we fell.
Above all, remain united! Learn from our example. Remember how the
French Convention, like Saturn, devoured its own children. Be more
tolerant than we proved. Your whole strength will barely suffice for the
defence of the sacred cause you represent; for its defence against the
fierce and crafty enemies who at this hour perchance are arching their
backs and purring like cats, but who are lurking in the jungle, awaiting
the moment when you will stumble if you should be alone.
Last of all remember, Russian brothers, that you are fighting our
battles as well as your own. Our fathers of 1792 wished to bring freedom
to the whole world. They failed; and it may be that they did not choose
the best way. But they had lofty ambitions. May these ambitions be yours
likewise. Bring to Europe the gifts of peace and liberty!
"demain," Geneva, May 1, 1917.
VIII
TOLSTOY: THE FREE SPIRIT
In his diary, of which the first French translation has just been issued
by Paul Biriukov,[15] Tolstoy gives utterance to the fantasy that in an
earlier life his personality had been a complex of loved beings. Each
successive existence, he suggested, enlarged the circle of friends and
the range and power of the soul.[16]
Speaking generally, we may say that a great personality comprehends
within itself more souls than one. All these souls are grouped around
one among them, much as, in a company of friends, the one with the
strongest character will establish an ascendancy.
In Tolstoy there are more men than one: there is the great artist; there
is the great Christian; there is the being of uncontrolled instincts and
passions. But in Tolstoy, as his days lengthened and his kingdom
extended, it became plain and yet more plain that there was one ruler.
This ruler was the free reason. It is to the free reason that I wish to
pay homage here, for it is this above everything that we all need
to-day.
Our epoch is not poor in the other energies, those energies which
Tolstoy possessed in so full a measure. Our age is surfeited with
passions and with heroism; in artistic capacity it is not lacking; the
fire of religion, even, has not been withheld. God--all the gods there
be--have cast burning brands into the vast conflagration that rages
among the nations. Christ not excepted. There is not one among the
countries, belligerent or neutral, including the two Switzerlands, the
German and the Romance, which has failed to discover in the gospels
justification for cursing or for slaughter.
Rarer to-day than heroism, rarer than beauty, rarer than holiness, is a
free spirit. Free from constraint, free from prejudices, free from every
idol; free from every dogma, whether of class, caste, or nation; free
from every religion. A soul which has the courage and the
straightforwardness to look with its own eyes, to love with its own
heart, to judge with its own reason; to be no shadow, but a man.
To a surpassing degree, Tolstoy set such an example. He was free.
Invariably, with steadfast gaze, he looked events and men in the face
without blinking. His free judgment was unperturbed even by his
affections. Nothing shows this more plainly than his independence
towards the one whom he valued the most, towards Christ. This great
Christian was not a Christian through obedience to Christ. Though he
devoted a considerable part of his life to studying, expounding, and
diffusing the gospels, he never said, "This or that is true because the
gospels say so." Tolstoy's outlook was, "The gospels are true because
they say this or that." You yourself must be the judge, your free reason
must be the judge, of truth.
There is a writing known to few, for I believe it is still unpublished.
It is the _Relation by Mihail Novikov the Peasant, concerning the Night
of October 21, 1910, spent by him at Yasnaya Polyana_. The date was a
week before Tolstoy fled from his home. We read how Tolstoy conversed at
Yasnaya Polyana with a number of peasants. Among these were two village
lads who had just been called up for military service, and military
service was the topic of discussion. One of the young men, a social
democrat, said that he was going to serve, not throne and altar, but
state and nation. (We see that Tolstoy was fortunate in that he did not
die before making the acquaintance of the "socialist patriots," before
hearing a disquisition on "the art of turning the coat.") Some of the
other peasants protested. Tolstoy enquired what were the limits of the
state, declaring that for himself the whole world was his fatherland.
The other conscript quoted texts from the Bible, texts in defence of
killing. These did not convince Tolstoy, seeing that texts can be found
apt for every occasion. He spoke as follows:
"Not because Moses or Christ has forbidden us to do ill to our neighbour
or to ourselves, not for such a reason must we refrain from doing ill.
It is our duty to refrain because it is contrary to the nature of man to
do this ill either to himself or to his neighbour. Be careful to note
that I say it is contrary to the nature of man. I am not speaking of
beasts.... In yourself you must find God, that he may enable you to see
what is good and what is evil, what is possible and what is impossible.
But as long as we allow ourselves to be guided by an external authority,
be it that of Moses and Christ for one man, that of Mohammed for
another, and that of the socialist Marx for another, we shall not cease
to be at enmity one with another."
I wish to make these words of power widely known. As I have repeatedly
declared, the worst evil with which the world is afflicted is not the
power of the wicked but the weakness of the good. Now this weakness is
largely due to the inertia of the will, to the dread of independent
judgment, to moral cowardice. The boldest, directly they have shaken off
their chains, are only too ready to assume fresh bonds. Hardly have they
been freed from one social superstition, than we see them deliberately
harnessed to the chariot of a new superstition. It is so much easier to
allow oneself to be guided than it is to think for oneself. This
abdication is the kernel of the mischief. It is the duty of each one of
us to refrain from leaving to others, to the best of men, to the most
trustworthy, to the most dearly loved, the decision of what it is or is
not good for us to do. We ourselves must seek the solution, seek it all
through life if needs must, seek it with untiring patience. A half truth
which we have won for ourselves is worth more than a whole truth learned
from others, learned by rote as a parrot learns. A truth which we
accept with closed eyes, submissively, deferentially, servilely--such a
truth is nothing but a lie.
Stand erect! Open your eyes and look about you! Be not afraid! The
modicum of truth which you can secure by your own efforts is your safest
light. Your essential need is not the acquisition of vast knowledge. The
essential is that the knowledge you gain, be it little or be it much,
shall be your own, nourished with your own blood, outcome of your own
untrammelled effort. Freedom of the spirit is the supreme treasure.
Throughout the ages, free men have been few in number. With the
continued spread of herd mentality the number seems not unlikely to grow
smaller yet. No matter! For the sake of these very multitudes who
surrender to the slothful intoxication of collective passion, we must
cherish the flame of liberty. Let us seek truth everywhere; let us cull
it wherever we can find its blossom or its seed. Having found the seed
let us scatter it to the winds of heaven. Whencever it may come,
whithersoever it may blow, it will be able to germinate. There is no
lack, in this wide universe, of souls that will form the good ground.
But these souls must be free. We must learn not to be enslaved even by
those whom we admire. The best homage we can pay to men like Tolstoy is
to be free, as Tolstoy was free.
"Les Tablettes," Geneva, May 1, 1917.
IX
TO MAXIM GORKI
At Geneva, in January, 1917, A. V. Lunacharski delivered a lecture
on the life and works of Maxim Gorki. The following tribute to
Gorki was read before the lecture.
About fifteen years ago, in Paris, Charles Péguy, myself, and a few
others, used to meet in a little ground-floor shop in the rue de la
Sorbonne. We had just founded the "Cahiers de la Quinzaine." Our
editorial office was poorly furnished, neat and clean; the walls were
lined with books. A photograph was the only ornament. It showed Tolstoy
and Gorki standing side by side in the garden at Yasnaya Polyana. How
had Péguy got hold of it? I do not know, but he had had several
reproductions made, and each of us had on his desk the picture of these
two distant comrades. Under their eyes part of _Jean Christophe_ was
written.
One of the two men, the veteran apostle, has gone, on the eve of the
European catastrophe whose coming he foretold and in which his voice has
been so greatly needed. The other, Maxim Gorki, is at his post, and his
free-spirited utterances help to console us for Tolstoy's silence.
Gorki has not proved one of those who succumbed to the vertigo of
events. Amid the distressing spectacle of the thousands of writers,
artists, and thinkers who, within a few days, laid down their role as
guides and defenders of the masses, to follow the maddened herds, to
drive these herds yet more crazy by their own cries, to hasten the rush
into the abyss, Maxim Gorki was one of the rare exceptions, one of those
whose reason and whose love of humanity remained unshaken. He dared to
speak on behalf of the persecuted, on behalf of the gagged and enslaved
masses. This great artist, who shared for so long the life of the
unfortunate, of the humble, of the victims, of the outcasts of society,
has never denied his sometime companions. Having become famous, he turns
back to them, throwing the powerful light of his art into the dark
places where wretchedness and social injustice are hidden away. His
generous soul has known suffering; he does not close his eyes to the
sufferings of others.
Haud ignara mali, miseris succurrere disco....
Consequently, in these days of trial (trial which we greet, because it
has taught us to take stock of ourselves, to estimate the true value of
hearts and of thoughts), in these days when freedom of the spirit is
everywhere oppressed, we must cry aloud our homage to Maxim Gorki.
Across the battlefields, across the trenches, across a bleeding Europe,
we stretch forth our hands to him. Henceforward, in face of the hatred
which rages among the nations, we must affirm the union of New Europe.
To the fighting "Holy Alliances" of the governments, we counterpose the
brotherhood of the free spirits of the world!
_January 30, 1917._
"demain," Geneva, June, 1917.
X
TWO LETTERS FROM MAXIM GORKI
PETROGRAD, _end of December, 1916._
MY DEAR AND VALUED COMRADE ROMAIN ROLLAND,
Will you be good enough to write a biography of Beethoven, suitable for
children? I am simultaneously writing to H. G. Wells, whom I ask to let
me have a life of Addison; Fridtjof Nansen will do the life of
Christopher Columbus; I shall myself deal with the life of Garibaldi;
the Hebrew poet Bialik will write the life of Moses. With the aid of the
leading authors of our day I hope to produce a number of books for
children, containing biographies of the leaders of mankind. The whole
series will be issued under my editorship....
You know that in these days nothing needs our attention so much as young
people. We grown-ups, we whose course is nearly run, are leaving a poor
inheritance to our children, are bequeathing to them a sad life. This
foolish war is a striking proof of our moral weakness, of the decay of
civilisation. Let us, then, remind our children that men have not always
been so weak and so bad as we are. Let us remind them that in all the
nations there have been and still are great men, fine spirits. Now,
above all, should we do this, when savagery and brutality are rife.... I
beseech you, my dear Romain Rolland, to pen this biography of Beethoven,
for I am convinced that no one can do it better than yourself....
I have read and reread the articles you have published during the war,
and I take this opportunity of telling you that they have inspired me
with profound respect and love for you. You are one of the rare persons
whose soul has remained unaffected by the madness of this war. It is a
delight to me to know that you have continued to cherish the best
principles of humanity.... Allow me, from a great distance, to clasp you
by the hand, dear comrade.
MAXIM GORKI.
* * * * *
At the end of January, Romain Rolland replied, accepting the
proposal that he should rewrite the life of Beethoven for young
people, and asking Gorki to indicate the length and the method of
treatment. Was the book to be a causerie, or a plain statement of
facts? Rolland suggested additional names for the series of
biographies: Socrates; Francis of Assisi; representative figures of
Asia.
...Will you permit me to make a friendly remark? I am a trifle uneasy as
to some of the names mentioned in your letter, uneasy as to the effect
upon children's minds. You propose to put before them such formidable
examples as that of Moses. Your aim, obviously, is to impress on them
the importance of moral energy, which is the source of all light. But it
is not a matter of indifference whether this light be turned towards the
past or towards the future. There is no lack of moral energy to-day. The
quality abounds, but it is devoted to the service of an obsolete ideal,
an ideal which oppresses and kills. I must admit that I am somewhat
estranged from the great men of the past, considered as examples for the
conduct of life. For the most part I am disappointed in them. I admire
them on aesthetic grounds, but I cannot endure the intolerance and the
fanaticism they so often display. Many of the gods whom they worshipped
have to-day become dangerous idols. Mankind, I fear, will fail to fulfil
its lofty destiny unless it can transcend these earlier ideals, unless
it prove able to offer wider horizons to the coming generations. In a
word, I love and admire the past; but I wish the future to excel the
past. It can; it must....
* * * * *
Maxim Gorki answered as follows:--
PETROGRAD, _March 18 to 21, 1917._
I hasten to reply, dear Romain Rolland. The book on Beethoven should be
written for young people from thirteen to eighteen years of age. It
should be an objective and interesting account of the life of a man of
genius, of the development of his mind, of the chief incidents in his
career, of the difficulties he overcame and of the triumphs he achieved.
It should contain as much as can be learned concerning Beethoven's
childhood. In young folk we wish to inspire love for life and trust in
life; to adults we wish to teach heroism. Man has to learn that he is
the creator and the master of the world; that his is the responsibility
for all its misfortunes; that his, too, is the credit for all that is
good in life. We must help man to break the chains of individualism and
nationalism. Propaganda on behalf of universal union is absolutely
essential.
I am delighted with your idea of writing the life of Socrates, and I
hope you will carry it out. I suppose your description of Socrates will
be placed on a background of classical life, on the background of the
life of Athens?
Most penetrating are your observations on the question of a life of
Moses. I am entirely with you as far as concerns the disorganising
influence which religious fanaticism exercises upon life. But I choose
Moses simply as a social reformer. This will be the theme of his
biography. I had thought of Joan of Arc. But I am afraid that the
treatment of this topic would lead the writer to talk of "the mystical
soul of the people," and of similar matters, which pass my
understanding, and which are particularly unwholesome for Russians.
The life of Francis of Assisi is another story. It would be excellent,
it would be extremely useful, if the writer of this biography were to
aim at displaying the profound difference between Francis of Assisi and
the holy men of the east, the saints of Russia. The east is pessimist;
it is passive. The Russian saints do not love life; they repudiate it
and execrate it. Francis is an epicure of religion; he is a Hellene; he
loves God as the work of his own creation, as the fruit of his own soul.
He is filled with love for life, and he is free from a humiliating fear
of God. A Russian is a man who does not know how to live, but knows how
to die.... I am afraid that Russia is even more oriental than China. We
have a superabundant wealth of mysticism.... What we chiefly need to
inspire men with is the love of action; we must awaken in them respect
for the intelligence, for man, for life.
My sincerest thanks for your cordial letter. It is a great solace to
know that somewhere, afar off, there is one who suffers the same
sufferings as oneself, a man who loves the same things. It is good to
know this in these days of violence and madness.... Warmest greetings.
MAXIM GORKI.
_PS._--This letter has been delayed by recent happenings in Russia. Let
us rejoice, Romain Rolland, let us rejoice with all our hearts, for
Russia is no longer the mainspring of reaction in Europe. Henceforward
the Russian people is wedded to liberty, and I trust that this union
will give birth to many great souls for the glory of mankind.
"demain," Geneva, July, 1917.
XI
TO THE WRITERS OF AMERICA
_Letter to "The Seven Arts," New York, October, 1916._
I am delighted to learn of the creation of a magazine in which the
American soul will become fully aware of its own individuality. I
believe in the lofty destinies of America, and the events of the hour
render the realisation of that destiny urgently necessary. In the Old
World, civilisation is imperilled. America must cherish the flickering
flame.
You possess one great advantage over us in Europe. You are free from
traditions; free from the burdens of thought, of sentiments, from
agelong follies, from the obsessions in the spheres of the intellect, of
art, and of politics; you are free from all these things which crush the
Old World. Contemporary Europe is sacrificing her future to quarrels,
ambitions, rancours, revived again and again. Every endeavour to bring
these troubles to an end serves but to add a few meshes to the net
wherein a murderous destiny has snared us. Our fate resembles that of
the Atrides, vainly awaiting, as in the _Eumenides_, a god's word of
power which may break the bloody spell. In art, if our writers owe their
perfection of form and their clarity of thought to the strength of our
classical traditions, these advantages have been gained at the cost of
great sacrifices. Too few among our artists are awakened to the manifold
life of the world. Their minds are mewed within a closed garden. They
display little interest concerning the spacious regions through which,
after leaving that garden, the river, a swelling flood, pursues its
torrential course, watering all the world.
You have been born in a land which is neither encumbered nor enclosed by
the artificial constructions of the mind. Profit by the fact. Be free.
Do not enslave yourselves to foreign examples. Your model is in
yourselves. Begin by knowing yourselves.
This is the first duty. The differing individualities which combine to
make up your country must not be afraid to express themselves in art; to
express themselves freely, honestly, integrally; without straining for
originality, but regardless of what expression may have been found by
those who have gone before, and fearless of the tyranny of opinion.
Above all, let them dare to look into their own souls, to look well and
long, to plumb the depths in silent meditation. Those who do so, must
then dare to reveal what they have seen. This self-communing is not a
self-incarceration within an egoistic personality. Those who engage in
it will strike deep roots in the essential being of the nation to which
they belong. I urge on you the endeavour to participate to the full in
its sufferings and its aspirations. Be the light lightening the darkness
of the great social masses whose mission it is to renew the world. The
men and women of the common people, those whose want of interest in
artistic matters is often a trial to you, are mutes. Lacking power of
expression, they are ignorant of themselves. Become a voice for them. As
they hear you speak, they will grow aware of themselves. In giving
expression to your own souls, you will create the soul of your nation.