border-line between Art and Philosophy becomes almost an imaginary line
with him. In the one case as in the other we have, according to him, to
get inside the object by a sort of sympathy. True, there is this
difference, he says, that aesthetic intuition achieves only the
individual--which is doubtful--whereas the philosophic intuition is to
be conceived as a "recherche orientee dans la meme sens que l'art,
indeed, but qui prendrait pour objet la vie en general." He fails to
note, it may be observed, that the expression of the aesthetic
intuition, that is to say, Art, is always fixed and static. This in view
of other aspects of his doctrine is remarkable. But apart from this
attempt to practically identify Art and Philosophy--a hopeless attempt--
there is, of course, available as a means of explanation the well-known
and not entirely deplorable tendency of the protestant and innovator to
overstate his case, to bring out by strong emphasis the aspect with
which he is chiefly concerned and which he thinks has been unduly
neglected. This, as hinted, has its merits, and not only or chiefly for
Philosophy, but also, and perhaps primarily, for the conduct of life. If
he convinces men, should they need convincing, that they cannot be saved
by the discursive reason alone, he will have done a good service to his
generation, and to the philosophers among them who may (though they
ought not to) be tempted to ignore the intuitive element in experience.

The same tendency to over-emphasis can be observed elsewhere. It is
noticeable, for instance, in his discussions of Change, which are so
marked and important a feature in his writings. His Philosophy has been
called, with his approval apparently, the Philosophy of Change, though
it might have been called, still more truly and suggestively, the
Philosophy of Creation. It is this latter phase of it which has so
enormously interested and stimulated the world. As to his treatment of
Change, it reveals Bergson in one of his happiest moods. It is difficult