The sentiments I have tried to analyze are evidently of a rare order,
and presuppose an exceptional culture. Delicate flowers will not grow in
the winds and fitful sunshine of the public road. Their perfumed
corollas expand only in the mellowed air of hot-houses. Science is a
kind of hot-house which guards superior minds from the brutalities of
real life. The author of 'Dialogues philosophiques' is an exceptional
person. He is a superior man, to me a term very strong in its
simplicity; one might say almost that he is _the_ superior man.
Moreover, a certain air of imperceptible irony and transcendental
disdain shows that he is conscious of this superiority. Disregard of
vulgar opinion is very evident in his pages. The reserved elegance of a
style which never emphasizes any special intention; the subtle arguments
which never take the imperative tone; a strength of feelings, none of
which are exaggerated for the sake of sympathy,--all would reveal his
aristocratic ideal, even if he had not often declared that there is one
domain for the initiated and another for the simple. His political work
on 'Reforme intellectuelle et morale' contains the strongest argument of
the last hundred years against the very principle of democracy, natural
equality. His two symbolic dramas--'Caliban' and 'Eau de Jouvence'--may
be summed up in this reflection of the prior of Chartreux, seated in his
stall while the organ plays alone, and the crowd presses around the
crowned Caliban: "A11 civilization is the work of aristocrats." This
truth the demagogue Caliban himself recognizes, since as soon as
possessed of the palace and power of Prospero, he assumes aristocratic
ways; and M. Renan, always desirous of correcting by a smile even his
dearest affirmations, carefully adds that the monster of the island
became a very fair prince. Prospero proclaims that material work is the
slave of spiritual work. Everything must aid him who prays,--that is,
who thinks. Democratic minds, which do not admit individual
subordination to a general achievement, consider this a
monstrous doctrine.
Finally, the 'Dialogues philosophiques,' in the part entitled 'Dreams,'
contain a complete plan for the subjection of the greatest number by a
chosen few.... Is it bold to consider his feeling for his native soil
the germ of his aristocratic ideal?
Other determining circumstances unite with it, all of which may be
summed up in the term "superior man," which seems simple enough, but
which may be decomposed into a series of complex characters. The
superior man differs from the man of genius, who may be unintelligent
enough, and from the man of talent, who is often a mere specialist, in
an ability to form general ideas about everything. If this power of
generalizing is not combined with equal creative power, the superior man
remains a critic. But if he possesses both, he is an exceptional being
and the highest conceivable type, that of conscious genius. Caesar is an
example of this in politics; Da Vinci in painting; and the great Goethe
in literature. Even if he does not reach these heights, the superior man
is one of the most useful instruments of society. For universal
comprehension usually includes a universal aptitude. Is not this
demonstrated in England, where favorable conditions have developed many
examples? What are great political characters like Disraeli and
Macaulay, who could apply an ever-ready intelligence to literary
composition and parliamentary struggles, to financial interests and
diplomatic difficulties, but superior men?
Conceive such a one thrown into the democratic current by chances of
birth, and you will realize the contrasts of environment and character
which have led M. Renan to the conception of an ideal so unusual.
Democracy seems at a first glance very favorable to talent, for it opens
all doors to all efforts. But at the same time it strengthens the hard
law of competition. Therefore it requires a greater specialization.
Then, democracy is founded upon equality, of which the logical
consequence is universal suffrage. It needs little analysis to know that
universal suffrage is hostile to the superior man. The mental attitudes
resulting from advanced study are usually--multiplicity of points of
view; a taste for nice distinctions; a disdain for absolute statement;
and search for intricate solutions;--all of which are refinements
antagonistic to the popular love of positive assertion. Therefore a
superior man finds the morals of a democracy unfavorable to his
development, while its laws hold him back from public affairs. So, many
distinguished minds in France to-day are excluded from government; or if
they have triumphed over the ostracism to which their divorce from
common passions condemns them, it is because they disguise this divorce
under professions which are void of intellectual impartiality. The
superior man exiled in what Sainte-Beuve calls "the ivory tower" watches
the drama of national life as one who sees its future possibilities. Is
it necessary to recall that one of this class of élite has shown a
veritable gift of prophecy? To cite only one example, were not the
disasters of 1870 predicted with surprising exactness in the 'France
nouvelle' of Prévost-Paradol, victim like Renan of universal suffrage?
It is evident that a strange melancholy oppresses these lofty minds,
weighed down under the conviction of their ideal strength and their real
weakness. The insolent triumph of the mediocre adds to this sadness. But
it is not quite without sweetness. It has something of the pleasure
extolled by Lucretius in the famous verses on those temples of the calm
faith from which the sage regards the wild struggle of the passions. But
the superior man of to-day will never know the full enjoyment which the
nervous systems of the ancients permitted them. The mind can do a great
deal, but it is powerless to remodel our native faculties. Whether we
hate or venerate the democracy, we are its sons and inherit its
imperious need of combat. The obscure and revolutionary nineteenth
century is in our blood, and prohibits the inner immobility, the mental
quiet, celebrated by the Epicureans of Greece and Rome. There is
agitation in our serenities, as in our submissions. Catholics or
atheists, monarchists or republicans, all the offspring of this age of
anguish have the anxious look, the quaking heart, the trembling hands of
the great battle of the time. Even those who try to stand aloof share
the common anxiety. They too are revolutionists like the others, but
they oppose human stupidity, and their mute rebellion is called disdain.
It would be interesting to study among contemporary scholars the
different forms of this disdain. Does not the exaggeration of technical
beauties, which is a feature of the school of poets ironically called
Parnassians, proceed from this sentiment of _Odi profanum vulgus_? Did
not Gustave Flaubert compose 'Bouvard et Péchuchet' under this
inspiration? Would Taine have undertaken his 'Histoire des origines de
la France contemporaine' if he had not been tormented by a longing to
understand the democratic tide which was sweeping him away? But no
writer has felt more strongly than M. Renan the antithesis of the
superior man and democracy. One must read and re-read those pages of the
'Dialogues' where Theoctiste imagines the victory of a future oligarchy,
to appreciate the intensity of passion employed in the examination of
these problems. He conceives that the learned will secure formidable
destructive agents, requiring the most delicate calculations and much
abstract knowledge. Then, exulting in their power, the dreamer
exclaims:--"Thus the forces of humanity would some day be held in a few
hands, and would be possessed by a league which could rule the existence
of the planet and terrorize the whole world. If those most endowed with
reason had ability to destroy the planet, their sovereignty would be
established. The privileged class would reign by absolute terror, since
they would have the existence of all in their hands. They would be
almost gods, and then would be realized the theological state dreamed by
the poet for primitive humanity: 'Primus in orbe Deos fecit timor.'" We
must not attach more reality to this tragic fancy than the author
intended, but it shows an incurably wounded heart; and proves that the
scholar who drew this gloomy picture has no great tenderness for the
favorite Utopias of the age.
An open break is possible between democracy and science, the two great
forces of modern society. Certainly while the tendency of the first is
to level, that of the second is to create differences. "Knowledge is
power," said the inductive philosopher. To know ten times as much as
another is to be ten times as capable; and as intellectual inequality
forbids a uniform degree of information, there is increasing opposition
between democratic tendencies and the social results of science. There
are several solutions, as in nearly all the complicated problems as to
the future. In formulating the hypothesis of the 'Dialogues,' M. Renan
indicates one of them. Another may be simply an application of science
to the organization of societies. An unprejudiced consideration of the
principles upon which our nineteenth-century society is founded proves
their Cartesian character, very different already from modern
philosophy. But there is a secret movement of minds. The conceptions of
Darwin and Herbert Spencer permeate the new ones. We must have faith in
the worth of the doctrines which will eventually overthrow politics, as
well as natural science and literature. A time is coming when a society
will not seem to the philosophers of evolution as it did to the last
inheritors of the classic spirit. It will appear, not the operation of a
logical contract, but the action of a confederation of organisms of
which the cell is the unit. This is very different from the reigning
idea. It is exclusive of any difference between democrat and aristocrat,
for such difference means an arbitrary classification of the different
social elements. If this consoling vision is not a simple chimera, it
may be remembered that the great scorners like M. Renan are active
workmen for its accomplishment, in that they formulate it very exactly,
and face the coming conflict with sorrowfully keen relief.
These summary notes upon one of our most remarkable men only indicate
the three or four states of conscience which he represents to the young
people who read his books and meditate upon their eloquent, disquieting
pages. No other author offers more that is fresh in thought and feeling,
for no other employs greater sincerity in thought and in exposition of
sentiment. Whoever studies the springs of moral life in the rising
generation, meets everywhere his influence. Not before a hundred years
hence can his achievement be measured. If there are any who do not
worship sincerity and reverence, they should devote themselves to the
books of M. Renan; for no one has practiced these qualities with greater
constancy than he, who on the first page of his 'Vie de Jésus' invokes
the pure spirit of the venerated Dead, and who prayed to him in a
melancholy petition to the unattainable--"O good Genius, reveal to me
whom you love, the truths which govern death, keep one from fearing and
make one almost love it!"