[REVUE DE PARIS 64]legitimate heirs [
se succéder a eux-mêmes]. THE LAW, full of respect for the merchant’s cargo, for
the écus acquired through work that is physical in some way or other, and often by dint of vile actions,
the law protects landed property, it protects the house of the proletarian who has toiled and sweated –
but it confiscates the work [
ouvrage] of the poet who has been thinking. If in this world there is one
property that is sacred, if there is one thing that can belong to man, then is it not that which man
creates between heaven and earth, that which has no other roots than in his intelligence and which
flourishes in all hearts? Divine and human laws, the modest laws of commonsense, all the laws speak
in our favour – only by suspending them all has it been possible to rob us in this way. We bring
treasures to a country which it would otherwise not have – treasures that are independent of the soil
and of social transactions – and as a reward for this, the most demanding of all types of work, the
country confiscates its produce. It looks on without shame as the descendants of Corneille, all of them
poor, gather round the statue of Corneille, which has created wealth in all the barns of this country,
which brings forth harvests that no patch of bad weather can threaten, which over the centuries will
continue to make rich actors, booksellers, paper manufacturers, bookbinders, and scholarly
commentators. Repeat to yourselves this sight and apply it to all your geniuses, o you cities full of
compassion for those who suffer no more! Repeat it every day, and you will cease to hesitate as to
whether you should save those who are suffering!
This disinheritance has an odious side to it which no one has emphasized as yet. Eloquent
pens will take up this matter; all we will do is to give an indication of it. Gentlemen, here it is you that
I am addressing – you, an intelligent breed of people for whom certain ideas have but one side to
them, and who therefore accept them unquestioningly, is that not so? Many great geniuses have been
ahead of their time by centuries, some talents are ahead merely by a few years. Yesterday the sun rose
for Vico, tomorrow it will rise for Balanche. Very few men can, like Voltaire and Chateaubriand, see
their glory bask [
soleiller], as our ancestors would have put it, whilst they are still alive. The age of
Louis XIV, whose public was an exclusive and choice set, was nevertheless supremely unjust towards
its great men. For sixteen years Racine had to exhaust his feather. Nobody, in that great age,
harboured any doubts about Perrault’s glory, of whom today we admire [only] |