Never has a dignity been better borne.  M. Anatole France is a good prince.  He knows nothing of tyranny but much of compassion.  The detachment of his mind from common errors and current superstitions befits the exalted rank he holds in the Commonwealth of Literature.  It is just to suppose that the clamour of the tribes in the forum had little to do with his elevation.  Their elect are of another stamp.  They are such as their need of precipitate action requires.  He is the Elect of the Senate—­the Senate of Letters—­whose Conscript Fathers have recognised him as primus inter pares; a post of pure honour and of no privilege.

It is a good choice.  First, because it is just, and next, because it is safe.  The dignity will suffer no diminution in M. Anatole France’s hands.  He is worthy of a great tradition, learned in the lessons of the past, concerned with the present, and as earnest as to the future as a good prince should be in his public action.  It is a Republican dignity.  And M. Anatole France, with his sceptical insight into an forms of government, is a good Republican.  He is indulgent to the weaknesses of the people, and perceives that political institutions, whether contrived by the wisdom of the few or the ignorance of the many, are incapable of securing the happiness of mankind.  He perceives this truth in the serenity of his soul and in the elevation of his mind.  He expresses his convictions with measure, restraint and harmony, which are indeed princely qualities.  He is a great analyst of illusions.  He searches and probes their innermost recesses as if they were realities made of an eternal substance.  And therein consists his humanity; this is the expression of his profound and unalterable compassion.  He will flatter no tribe no section in the forum or in the market-place.  His lucid thought is not beguiled into false pity or into the common weakness of affection.  He feels that men born in ignorance as in the house of an enemy, and condemned to struggle with error and passions through endless centuries, should be spared the supreme cruelty of a hope for ever deferred.  He knows that our best hopes are irrealisable; that it is the almost incredible misfortune of mankind, but also its highest privilege, to aspire towards the impossible; that men have never failed to defeat their highest aims by the very strength of their humanity which can conceive the most gigantic tasks but leaves them disarmed before their irremediable littleness.  He knows this well because he is an artist and a master; but he knows, too, that only in the continuity of effort there is a refuge from despair for minds less clear-seeing and philosophic than his own.  Therefore he wishes us to believe and to hope, preserving in our activity the consoling illusion of power and intelligent purpose.  He is a good and politic prince.

“The majesty of justice is contained entire in each sentence pronounced by the judge in the name of the sovereign people.  Jerome Crainquebille, hawker of vegetables, became aware of the august aspect of the law as he stood indicted before the tribunal of the higher Police Court on a charge of insulting a constable of the force.”  With this exposition begins the first tale of M. Anatole France’s latest volume.