APPENDIX A LXI 



notwithstanding their extraordinary eloquence and éclat, were of little 

 value; and M. Jules LeMaître, in a recent series of Conferences, ventured 

 to say so, whereupon a French critic takes him to task as follows: 

 "Supposing even the criticisms made to be well founded, it is just as 

 unsuitable to touch, without due respect, the conception which, for the 

 last century, we have been entertaining of the man, as it is to make too 

 much of the tediousness of certain tragedies of Racine. It is not per- 

 mitted to one of our own people to measure our heritage of glory by his 

 own personal taste. Just as truly as superstitions create life, so preju- 

 dices minister to the moral life of nations. For our own part we are 

 quite content to be blind, if, thanks to that weakness, we retain the 

 power to act." This is not the note of "magna est Veritas," yet 

 must it be confessed that a certain enfeeblement of popular ideals 

 may in certain cases result from an unsparing literary or historical 

 criticism. Truth has sometimes to be bought with a price. The 

 fact is that history and criticism to-day are continually at war with 

 the myth-making, legend-forming, tendencies of mankind. It is not 

 what is true that takes the strongest hold of the popular mind; it is what 

 is cast in a mould to fit popular needs; and when the people want to 

 believe a thing it is very hard to prevent their doing so. The story 

 of William Tell was long since proved by a number of historical investi- 

 gators, including several Swiss ones, to be wholly without foundation; 

 yet the popular belief in it is still strong, as is shown by the erection, as 

 lately as the year 1895, of a fine statue of Tell, the work of the Swiss 

 sculptor Kissling, in the market-place of Altdorf, and the opening in 

 1899, just outside that town, of a permanent theatre, in which Schiller's 

 play of William Tell is to be represented every Sunday during the sum- 

 mer season.^ Neither peoples nor individuals like to be disturbed in 

 their pleasant illusions. Many a time has the hellebore of criticism ex- 

 torted the cry: "Pol, me occidistis amici!" 



The greatest satirist of the age, Anatole France, touches in the pre- 

 face of his not very edifying book, "L'Ile des Pingouins" on this question 

 of the restraints put by popular prejudice on history. He represents 

 himself as having applied to an historian of high repute for some hints 

 as to how he should write a book of his own, which was to be of an 

 historical character. 'T come, sir," he said on entering the learned 

 gentleman's library, "to get the benefit of your experience. I am 

 struggling with a work of history, and am not making much head- 

 way." Shrugging his shoulders the distinguished author replied: "My 

 poor friend, why are you bothering yourself to compose a history, 

 when all you have to do is to follow the general practice and copy the 

 best known ones? If you have any new view or any original idea; 



'Encyclopaedia Britannica, 11th edition, article " William Tell." 



