THE LETTERS
All that Rolland gave in those days to his friends and collaborators of
the European fellowship, all that he gave by his immediate proximity,
was but a part of his nature. For beyond these personal limits, he
diffused a consolidating and helpful influence. Whoever turned to him
with a question, an anxiety, a distress, or a suggestion, received an
answer. In hundreds upon hundreds of letters he spread the message of
brotherhood, splendidly fulfilling the vow he had made a quarter of a
century earlier, at the time when Tolstoi's letter had brought him
spiritual healing. In Rolland's self there had come to life, not only
Jean Christophe the believer, but likewise Leo Tolstoi, the great
consoler.
Unknown to the world, he shouldered a stupendous burden during the five
years of the war. For whoever found himself in revolt against the time
and in conflict with the prevailing miasma of falsehood, whoever needed
counsel in a matter of conscience, whoever wanted aid, knew where he
could turn for what he sought. Who else in Europe inspired such
confidence? The unknown friends of Jean Christophe, the nameless
brothers of Olivier, hidden in out-of-the-way parts, knowing no one to
whom they could whisper their doubts--in whom could they better confide
than in this man who had first brought them tidings of goodness? They
sent him requests, submitted proposals, disclosed the turmoil of their
consciences. Soldiers wrote to him from the trenches; mothers penned
letters to him in secret. Many of the writers did not venture to give
their names, merely wishing to send a message of sympathy and to
inscribe themselves citizens of that invisible "republic of free souls"
which the author of _Jean Christophe_ had founded amid the warring
nations. Rolland accepted the infinite labor of being the centralizing
point and administrator of all these distresses and plaints, of being
the recipient of all these confessions, of being the consoler of a world
divided against itself. Wherever there was a stirring of European, of
universally human sentiment, Rolland did his best to receive and sustain
it; he was the crossways towards which all these roads converged. At the
same time he was continuously in communication with leading
representatives of the European faith, with those of all lands who had
remained loyal to the free spirit. He studied the periodicals of the day
for messages of reconciliation. Wherever a man or a work was devoted to
the reconsolidation of Europe, Rolland's help was ready.
These hundreds and thousands of letters combine to form an ethical
achievement such as has not been paralleled by any previous writer. They
brought happiness to countless solitary souls, strength to the wavering,
hope to the despairing. Never was the poet's mission more nobly
fulfilled. Considered as works of art, these letters, many of which have
already been published, are among the finest and maturest of Rolland's
literary creations. To bring solace is the most intimate purpose of his
art. Here, when speaking as man to man he can give himself without
stint, he displays a rhythmical energy, an ardor of lovingkindness,
which makes many of the letters rank with the loveliest poems of our
time. The sensitive modesty which often makes him reserved in
conversation, was no longer a hindrance. The letters are frank
confessions, wherein his free spirit converses freely with its fellows,
disclosing the author's goodness, his passionate emotion. That which is
so generously poured forth for the benefit of unknown correspondents, is
the most intimate essence of his nature. Like Colas Breugnon he can say:
"Voilà mon plus beau travail: les âmes que j'ai sculptées."