VIII
AT THE UNIVERSITY OF CHICAGO
saturday, may 5th
Ladies and Gentlemen:
I CANNOT hope to sustain the reputation given me by the kindness of the American people; and you will excuse me for not rising to your expectations. But, as the words I am going to say come from my heart, I trust they will naturally go to yours.
I cannot say how deeply moved we were when, in this immense park, our eye caught sight of this imposing University building whose massive structure seemed to reveal materially to us the magnitude of the work that has been accomplished here. Need I say we do not suddenly discover the existence of the Chicago University, nor of the other great American Universities. We already knew what those Universities have accomplished, and we had hardly landed in this country when we were reminded of it by our eminent Ambassador, M. Jusserand, who is attached to you by so many bonds of sympathy and who, in the last few years, has worked with a silent activity, worthy of the country he represents, against the strenuous and noisy endeavours of another ambassador, whom you have sent back to his native land. In connection with his name, let me mention that of our Consul, M. Barthelemy, who by his constant self-possession and tact, has gained not only for himself but for the whole of France, sympathies of which, I may say, he is fully worthy.
We knew that the American University was a centre of study and hard work, but we also knew that it was a centre of patriotism, which sent most of the volunteers who have enlisted, fought and died for France, the ambulances which took care of our wounded on our battlefields, the aviators who have risen to the same height as ours and fought under our flag until, after you declared war, they won new fame as the Lafayette Squadron under the American flag. Let me pay attribute to the memory of those valiant aviators who, before leaving their native shores, had given death a rendezvous, and who fell for France; and to that of many others who, in the full bloom of youth, have sacrificed their dreams and their future to our French motherland and to the cause of liberty. I can hardly find words to express my thanks to the many men who, in the generosity of their souls, have enlisted in our Foreign Legion, and have faced the enemy on the French front, side by side with the French and English soldiers.
I have just learned with deep emotion that you intend to raise a memorial to French science, to science as you conceive it, in the form of a book which you are about to publish, and which contains forty chapters signed by illustrious University men. But it is not enough that at long intervals, after long silence and by occasional visits, we should exchange our views and opinions. I am a former Minister of Public Education, and I should be happy to see the sending of American students to French Universities, promoted by the ample fellowships you grant your students, and by an active propaganda such as the one you are about to start in your Universities. They will enable your students to complete their scientific education in France, after acquiring a solid foundation in America. I look forward to a time when we shall settle an old question that should have been settled long ago. 1 refer to the equivalence of diplomas, which, by giving the American degrees the same rights as French degrees in our Universities, will enable your students to finish their education in France without any unnecessary delay. For in what other country could they find better instruction? It is not for me to remind the professors of this University, who are acquainted with the science and literature of the whole world, or its president, Mr. Judson, the distinguished jurist, whose loftiness of outlook, vast knowledge and steadfast purpose are well known to us, of the accomplishments of the French Nation in the world of science. As Mr. Judson himself said, in words for which I thank him: From a philosophical point of view are there any teachings comparable to those of French philosophy? Among us you would find the ever-burning light of science founded by Claude Bernard and his foremost pupil, D'Arsonval. As regards mathematics, are not such men as Appell and our Minister of War, Painleve, capable of teaching mathematics? Cannot the science whose monopoly has so long been held by our learned director of scientific education, the Dean of the Paris Faculty of Science, be diffused to-day as well? And when I think of such men as Leon Renault in legal science, and Lanson in literature, it seems as if I was beholding an illustrious Areopagus, a gathering of scientists who are the honour and glory of France, and who, let me assure you, are quite capable of teaching science, literature, or law, to such of you as look for such instruction. I may say that in France you would find teachings worthy of yours. Undoubtedly, there are great masters in Germany. Ours, unfortunately, are too modest: they do not fill the would with the clamour of their reputations. But, as regards method, clear or brilliant teaching, gift for synthesis, they are true masters. And in France, in Paris, in that illustrious Sorbonne, which for fourteen years I had the honour of representing in the French Parliament, you would find a class of science and studies such as you would not find in Germany. We know what education and science wrongly conceived may lead to. They lead straight to Kultur, that is to say, to the oppression of the people by a small class of men. It was Kultur which gave birth to that generation of men which has fallen into such a state of folly that it believes it the duty of the whole universe to kneel at its feet. It taught a generation of men that no treaties should be respected, that there was neither right nor law, and that the strong should dominate the weak. Could two great free peoples like America and France kneel before such samples of German science?
American and French Universities are alike. I will tell you what links connect them. The duty of a University is not only to form the mind of young men, to diffuse science, to make writers, scientists, physicians and lawyers, to enable men to teach in their turn or to earn an honourable living in their profession. That is part of its duty, but it would not be true to its real mission, and to its duty toward mankind, if at the same time as it forms scientists, it did not form men. It would not be true to its duty if, at the same time as it elevates the mind, it did not elevate the soul. Professors should gather not only to dispense instruction, but form men.
We, in France, when the hour of fate struck, had ample proof that our Universities and our teachers had brought forth men. 1 wish I could find fit words to relate the story of those young men of our High Normal School, who were to form a scientific and literary hierarchy, and were waiting to be raised to the rank of college teachers. When war was declared, they left for the front; and Marshal Joffre, who had them under his command, could tell you that out of those students of the High Normal School came his best officers. It was a wonderful alliance of science and truth, a full proof that Universities not only shape minds, but hearts also. Hecatombs of those students have fallen in the first line, flag in hand, and I cannot do better than apply to them those rhymes of our great national poet, Victor Hugo:
Ils sont tous sur le dos, couchés en braves devant Dieu,
Et si leurs yeux s'ouvraient, ils verraient le ciel bleu.
(They have fallen, like heroes, their brow to heaven, in the eyes of God,And if their eyes could open they would see the blue sky above them.)
In words that have deeply touched us, Mr. Judson said that America owed France a debt of gratitude. You have paid it in part already, and besides, we are too much like brothers to stand, with regard to one another, in the position of a debtor and a creditor. We are too closely linked in a great common task to put forth any such claims. It is not only to France, heroic and valorous France, which, through its courageous children, is fighting to defend its territory, but to the world, to humanity, to liberty, and civilization, that you owe a debt, and it is to them you will pay it. It is in order that they may not perish, it is because, as you aptly said, the fall of France would be a disaster to the world, that you must arise and fight. You have said that you would give your last man and the last heart-beat to the cause. I thank you, Mr. President, for those manly words, carved as it were in bronze, and which we will repeat to our fellow citizens in France. When they fall from the lips of a man of such eminence and authority, who knows the weight of words and the value of promises, they cannot fail to find a way to our consciences and our hearts. Yes, to the last man, yes, to the last heart-beat, under the flag of liberty, so that universal democracy may prevail over the world! To the last man, to the last heartbeat, so that free men may live proud and happy; to the last man, to the last beating of hearts, so that at last free peoples may look forward to everlasting international peace, and that the children of our children may live and work, free and peaceful, and enjoy the blessings of the sunshine without having to fear the return of such crimes as we have witnessed.
I thank you, Mr. President, for those kind words: I thank you, Gentlemen, for the support you have given us. When I look in your open faces, on which every-day work and deep thoughts have left an indelible mark, I feel that there is a definite promise in those words. I thank you for your welcome and for your ovations. But it is not to us your welcome goes, for we are nothing: it goes to our heroic France, whom you know so well, and whom you venerate as she deserves to be venerated. In the name of France, as well as in the name of all the universities of France, which, as Minister of Public Education, I had the honour of representing several times, I drink your health, Mr. President, and I drink to the honour and greatness of Chicago University, and to the glory of all American Universities.