Bergson and His Philosophy | Page 3

all means say it. They are ready to
attend. They may indeed expect too much from it, as those who best
grasp the measure of Philosophy's task would be the first to urge.
This is the opportunity of the charlatan. Puzzled and half-desperate, we
strongly feel the influence of the need to believe, are prone to listen to
any gospel. The greater its air of finality and assurance the stronger is
its appeal. But it is the opportunity also of the serious and competent
thinker, and it is fortunate for the world that one of M. Bergson's
quality is forthcoming. He is too wise a man, he knows the history of
human thought too well, he realizes too clearly the extent of the
problem to pretend that his is the last word or that he has in his pocket
the final solution of the puzzle of the universe and the one and only
panacea for human distresses. But he has one of the most subtle and
penetrating intellects acting in and upon the world at this moment, and
is more worthy of attention than all the charlatans. That he has obtained
for himself so great an audience is one of the most striking and hopeful
signs of the present time.
It is the more impressive inasmuch as Bergson cannot be said to be an
easy author. The originality and sweep of his conceptions, the fine and
delicate psychological analysis in which he is so adept and which is
necessary for the development of his ideas--e.g., in his exposition of
duree--make exacting demands upon those readers who wish to closely
follow his thought. An interesting fact is that this is realized most of all
by those who come to Bergson with a long process of philosophical
discipline behind them. It is not surprising when we remember what he
is trying to do, namely, to induce philosophical thought to run in new
channels. The general reader has here an advantage over the other,
inasmuch as he has less to unlearn. In the old words, unless we become
as little children we cannot enter into this kingdom; though it is true
that we do not remain as little children once entry is made. This is a
serious difficulty for the hard-bitten philosopher who at considerable
pains has formed conceptions, acquired a technique, and taken an

orientation towards life and the universe which he cannot dismiss in a
moment. It says much for the charitable spirit of Bergson's fellow-
philosophers that they have given so friendly and hospitable a reception
to his disturbing ideas, and so essentially humane a man as he must
have been touched by this. The Bahnbrecher has his troubles, no doubt,
but so also have those upon whose minds he is endeavouring to operate.
Reinhold, one of Kant's earliest disciples, ruefully stated, according to
Schopenhauer's story, that it was only after having gone through the
Critique of Pure Reason five times with the closest and most
scrupulous attention that he was able to get a grasp of Kant's real
meaning. Now, after the lapse of a century and a half, Kant to many is
child's play compared with Bergson, who differs more fundamentally
from Kant than the Scoto-German thinker did from Leibniz and Hume.
But this need not alarm the general reader who, innocent of any very
articulate philosophical preconceptions, may indeed find in the very
"novelty" of Bergson's teaching a powerful attraction, inasmuch as it
gives effective expression to thoughts and tendencies moving dimly
and half-formed in the consciousness of our own epoch, felt rather than
thought. In this sense Bergson may be said to have produced a
"philosophy for the times." In one respect Bergson has a marked
advantage over Kant, and indeed over most other philosophers, namely,
in his recognized masterly control over the instrument of language.
There is a minimum of jargon, nothing turgid or crabbed. He reminds
us most, in the skill and charm of his expression, of Plato and Berkeley
among the philosophers. He does not work with so fine and biting a
point as his distinguished countryman and fellow-philosopher, Anatole
France, but he has, nevertheless, a burin at command of remarkable
quality. He is a master of the succinct and memorable phrase in which
an idea is etched out for us in a few strokes. Already, in his lifetime, a
number of terms stamped with the impress of Bergson's thought have
passed into international currency. In this connexion, has it been
remarked that while an Englishman gave to the French the term
"struggle for life," a Frenchman has given to us the term elan vital? It is
worthy of passing notice and gives rise to reflections on the respective
national temperaments, fanciful perhaps, but interesting. It is not,
however, under the figure of the