it.  The experiments of Kelvin and Lodge and the discovery of radium, have brought forward a new theory of matter; the old-fashioned base, the atom, is now regarded as being essentially movement; matter is as wonderful and mysterious in its character as spirit.  Further we must note that the researches of Einstein, culminating in the formulation of his general Theory of Relativity and his special Theory of Gravitation, which are arousing such interest at the present time, threaten very seriously the older static views of the universe and seem to frustrate any efforts to find and denote any stability therein.[Footnote:  Consult on this Dr. Einstein’s own work of which the translation by R. W. Lawson is just published:  Relativity:  The Special and the General Theory.  Methuen, 1920.] In the light of these discoveries, Bergson’s views on the reality of Change seem less paradoxical than they might formerly have appeared.  The reality of Change is, for Bergson, absolute, and on this, as a fundamental point, he constructs his thought.  In conjunction with his study of Memory, it leads up to his discussions of Real Time (la duree), of Freedom, and of Creative Evolution.  We must then, at the outset of any study of Bergson’s philosophy, obtain a grasp of this universal ’becoming’—­a vision of the reality of Change.  Then we shall realize that Change is substantial, that it constitutes the very stuff of life.  “There are changes, but there are not things that change; change does not need a support.  There are movements, but there are not, necessarily, constant objects which are moved; movement does not imply something that is movable."[Footnote:  Translated from La Perception du Changement, Lecture 2, p. 24.]

To emphasize and to illustrate this point, so fundamental in his thought, Bergson turns to music.  “Let us listen,” he says, “to a melody, letting ourselves be swayed by it; do we not have the clear perception of a movement which is not attached to any mobility—­of a change devoid of anything which changes?  The change is self-sufficient, it is the thing itself.  It avails nothing to say that it takes time, for it is indivisible; if the melody were to stop sooner, it would not be any longer the same volume of sound, but another, equally indivisible.  Doubtless we have a tendency to divide it and to represent it to ourselves as a linking together of distinct notes instead of the uninterrupted continuity of the melody.  But why?  Simply because our auditive perception has assumed the habit of saturating itself with visual images.  We hear the melody across the vision which the conductor of the orchestra can have of it in looking at his score.  We represent to ourselves notes linked on to notes on an imaginary sheet of paper.  We think of a keyboard on which one plays, of the bow of a violin which comes and goes, of the musicians, each one of whom plays his part in conjunction with the others.  Let us abstract these spatial images; there remains pure change, self-sufficing, in no way attached to a ‘thing’ which changes."[Footnote:  Translated from La Perception du Changement, pp. 24-25.]