_... Péguy who admires philosophies to the extent that ‘they are good
fighters.’_[185]
This determination to praise philosophers for their virtues of action
rather than for their intellectual virtues is very frequent among
men of thought to-day. In his _Souvenirs concernant Lagneau_, Alain,
wishing to give as favourable a picture of his master as possible,
praises his energy and his resolution at least as much as his
intelligence. It is also very remarkable--although here literature
only is in question--to see a professor of moral science (M. Jacques
Bardoux) setting a special value on those French literary men who were
soldiers, i.e. Vauvenargues, Vigny, Péguy. As to the men of letters
themselves, I shall content myself with pointing out that one of
them who is most applauded by his own colleagues recently declared
that he chiefly admired d’Annunzio for his attitude as an officer,
and expressed regret that he had returned to literature.[186] The
Emperor Julian praised Aristotle for having said that he felt prouder
of being the author of his _Treatise on Theology_ than he would have
felt if he had destroyed the power of the Persians. One might still
find soldiers in France who would agree with this judgment, but very
few men of letters. Elsewhere (_Les Sentiments de Critias_, p. 206)
I have attempted to give the history and the explanation of this
desire (so curious in men of the pen) to exalt a warlike life and to
scorn a sedentary life. Note that this characteristic is to be seen in
contemporary writers long before the war of 1914, and that those who
talk most about a warlike life are not always those who lead it.
The new thing, I repeat, is not that we see men of letters praising
an active life and scorning a sedentary life; it is _the absence of
naiveté, the dogmatic tone_. When Ronsard exclaims: ‘Good Gods, who
would praise those who let life go by bent over books’;[187] when
Bertrand de Born wishes that ‘no man of high lineage should have any
thought but cutting off heads and arms’; when Froissart sings the
glories of chivalry and casts his scorn in the faces of the bourgeois,
no one will take these candid lyre-players, who like noble poses and
do not even know that the word doctrine exists, for the ancestors of
our grave professors of belligerent aesthetics. Moreover, I doubt
whether the author of _Scenes and Doctrines of Nationalism_ would have
condescended to be a descendant of these simple-minded persons.
I find scorn for the life of the mind clearly professed in a dogmatic
tone, in a writer of the seventeenth century who frequently reminds one
of certain modern authors by his efforts to humiliate the toga before
the sword. (It is true that this writer was a gentleman of the very
minor nobility.)
‘Certainly, there is no better way of relaxing the vigour of men’s
courage than to occupy their minds with peaceful and sedentary
exercises, and idleness cannot enter civilized States in a more subtle
or dangerous disguise than that of literature. Lazy and idle persons
have in part ruined commerce and agriculture, which are the cause
of the weakness of our condition and the cowardice of our age.’ (J.
L. de Balzac, _Le Prince_, 1631. He then admits literature and the
sciences to the State insofar as ‘they strengthen and embellish the
Mother-country’.)
On the other hand, a master from the great period of French literature
writes a eulogy of the life of the mind at the expense of the active
mind, which I hardly think would be accepted by many of the moderns who
venerate that period (I am especially thinking of those who admire the
thought of Georges Sorel).
‘In France great strength of character and width of mind are needed if
a man is to reject offices and employments and thus consent to remain
at home and do nothing. Scarcely anyone possesses sufficient merit to
play this part with dignity, nor sufficient resources to fill up the
void of time without what the vulgar call “business”. But the wise
man’s idleness needs only a better name, and we ought to say that one
who meditates, talks, reads and is calm, is working.’ (La Bruyère, _Du
Mérite personnel_.)