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LOVE-LIFE OF AUGUSTE COMTE.
BY JENNIE JUNE CKOLY.
T is said that no man is a hero to his wife or his valet de chambre;
and so inseparable, indeed, is some touch of weakness from poor
human nature, that we are rather apt to expect from the excep
tionally great in some respects, corresponding feebleness in
others, and charitably excuse, or else hold them up to the light, as the
excuse for our own shortcomings.
The private, or emotional life of Auguste Comte is but little known
in this country, and the impressions concerning it, derived mainly from
John ^tuart Mill, is , not’of a character to encourage strict investiga
tion. Even his disciples seem to consider his domestic relations as a
subject to be avoided, and the second part of his great life-work, the
“Politique Positive,” as more the result of the weakness of his heart
than the strength of his head.
* The aim of this brief and necessarily very imperfect sketch is sim
ply to state, facts, to show what justification existed for departure from
conventional standards, and who and what the remarkable woman was
whose brief acquaintance exercised so singular an influence upon the
mind of Comte, and inspired him with those ideas which form the
basis of his ultimate system.
Whatever the weakness or strength of its founder, there is little
doubt that the “ Religion of Humanity ” will live and continue to
attract, as heretofore, the respectful attention of the wisest and best
among us, and with its growth will spring up an interest in that epi
sode of the life of August Comte which unites his. name with that of
Clotilde de Vaux, and accepting her . as the representative of the noblest
attributes of humanity, will place her, toward its religion and its be
lievers, as Laura to Petrarch, as Beatrice to Dante,-as Heloise to Abe
lard, if not, with all reverence be it spoken, as the Virgin Mary to the
Christian Church.
“To-day,” Emerson says, “is king,” but we rarely recognize its
royalty. Laura and Beatrice may have been very ordinary persons to
their intimates, and it is possible that even Joseph saw nothing more
in his wife than many a man believes of the woman he loves. Yet who
would wish to lose the spiritual significance of the Virgin-Mother by
confronting it with the common-place fact of her daily life. Clotilde
T
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de Vaux may have realized to no other person the remarkable qualities
with which Comte’s imagination invested her, but the evidence she has
left of high intellectual ability, united with singular purity and devo
tion, lifts her above the common-place, while, apart from any idealiza
tion by Comte, her personal history is clothed with a strange, sad, and
most romantic interest.
Born of a respectable but obscure family, beautiful, delicate, and
surrounded always by an air of touching sadness, which seemed a
prophecy of her future destiny, Madame de Vaux became early the wife
of a man who was subsequently convicted of a capital crime, impris
oned, and finally sent to the galleys, yet, by the laws of France, still
maintained his right and authority as her husband.
It was in this position that Comte met her.
Comte himself was born, as Robinet, his biographer, informs us, of
an admirable mother, Mme. Rosalie Boyer, a strict Catholic however,
who shared the monarchical tendencies of her husband. She is de
scribed as a woman of great heart, great character, and Comte ascribes
to her all his higher qualities. He admits also that it was through
Clotilde de Vaux that he learned to fully know and appreciate his
mother. His family were in moderate circumstances—his father being
cashier in the department of the Receiver-General. He was born in a
modest house, facing the church of Saint Eulalie, Montpellier; was
sent to school at the age of nine years, and was so precocious that at
ten he criticised with severity and judgment his teachers and their
methods of instruction.
In 1825, twenty years before he met Mme. de Vaux, he contracted a
marriage of convenience, which proved, as he afterwards declared, the
one “ serious ” fault of his life. His wife was a bookseller, an active,
capable woman of business, intelligent, but worldly, as most Parisian
women of the middle classes are, and utterly without sympathy in any
new systems of philosophy or their results. She was proud in her own
way of her husband’s ability, but wished it to be acknowledged by the
world, and she could not forgive in him the unconscious egotisms of a
powerful genius, or the loss of his material opportunities, by his obsti
nate adherence to unpopular opinions and principles.
For seventeen years they lived a life which must have been almost
unendurable to both, for Comte, released as he considered himself by
the greatness of his work from ordinary duties and obligations, was
probably one of the most exigent, exacting, and intolerable of hus
bands to a busy, ambitious, and practical wife, while she became to
him every day more an object of indifference, and even of dread.
Mahomet was happy in having for his first disciple his wife:
Madame Comte realized nothing but the obstinacy which deprived her
husband of honorable positions and material resources. She was quite
willing to assist in building up an honorable home, quite capable of
forming a sound, and even wise judgment on any of the ordinary affairs
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of every day; she had literary taste and talent of her own, but believed
thoroughly in putting them to practical use, in employing them to
achieve a recognized name, honor, position, money, and the good-will
of mankind, and she considered Comte’s splendid generalizations as the
chimeras of a distraught brain.
It was unfortunate for both that no children resulted from this illstarred union. The existence of these ties, and the knowledge, through
them, which they would have gained of each other, would undoubtedly
have softened their feelings, and contributed to a better mutual under
standing. But it was not to be. Day by day they drifted more and
more widely apart, until, upon April 5,1842, seventeen years after their
marriage, Mme. Comte left her husband never to return. 1
Although M. Comte had not at that time developed fully his social
theory, his natural instincts, heightened by the respect and veneration
with which his mother had always inspired him, would have compelled
him to endure to the end his self-imposed yoke, and forbidden any
sympathy with the anarchical ideas that were then becoming common
in France. The defection of his wife he accepted with the dignity
with which he had borne his matrimonial infelicity, and considered his
condition of domestic isolation as complete and final. His noble
nature, however, his truthful instincts, his affectionate disposition,
. made this severance of home ties very painful; he realized all the pos
sibilities of true marriage, all the difficulties resulting from a mistake
in this most important act of human life, and his pain was augmented
by the knowledge of the detrimental effect which his matrimonial
blunder would be likely to exert upon his public career. Believing
profoundly in the indissolubility of marriage, insisting with the whole
strength of his powerful intellect on the perfectness and perpetuity of
the marriage relation as the golden band which purifies and holds
society together, his own experience at once justified and illustrated
his theory in his own eyes, yet furnished to carping critics a choice
morsel of gossip, which they were undoubtedly willing to make the
most of.
“Behold the teacher!” “Who lives in glass houses should not
throw stones.” All this, and much more, must have made Comte feel
that a mistaken marriage was the most serious mistake of a man’s life,
and that the evils resulting from it must be borne by the individual,
not thrust upon society. Of course his situation, isolated and stigma
tized without direct act or fault of his own, enabled him more readily
to appreciate the peculiarity of the woman’s position whose name was
afterwards to be associated with his own—Madame Clotilde de Vaux.
His first meeting with this still young and gifted lady took place in
1845, three years after his wife had left him. It is admitted by all that
she possessed graces of person combined with remarkable purity, ten.derness, and dignity of character. The singular coincidence of their
position attracted them all the more powerfully toward each other,
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COMTE.
and the admirable delicacy and consistency which had distinguished
her conduct in her peculiarly trying and unfortunate position, estab
lished at once a claim upon Auguste Comte’s sympathies.
Moreover, Madame de Vaux, notwithstanding that she possessed a
mind of the finest order, was as little, understood by her family circle
as Comte by the rest of the world—a fact which, united with Madame
de Vaux’s convictions in regard to the moral nature and duties of
women, so different from those of her best-known contemporaries, but
•in exact accordance with Comte’s predilections, created a new bond be
tween them. Under th^se circumstances, it is not surprising that,
Clotilde de Vaux became to Comte a revelation of the power, purity,
genius, and suffering of woman, or that, having worked out his theory
of Divine Humanity, he should recognize its highest development in
her noble, self-sacrificing life.
It is a fact worthy of particular remark that, notwithstanding the
exceptional nature of their mutual positions, no breath of suspicion,
even in France, ever attached to their relationship. Slander itself was
dumb before the purity of her character, the modesty, and dignity of
her life. Her intercourse with Comte was wholly that of master and
pupil; and although he fully acknowledges that to her he was indebted
for his entire knowledge and education of the heart, yet this was un
conscious on her part, and she hardly realized that the chivalrous and
reverential nature of his sentiments toward her, and all women, owed
their development and expression mainly to herself.
But with the real claims of Madame de Vaux to the moral and in
tellectual height to which Comte elevated her, we have little to do. To
Comte she gave the key to one half, and the diviner half, of the human
race, and became at once the motive and the inspiration to that part of
his work which had been left incomplete. His discovery of sociology,
of a new philosophy of life based upon the laws of exact science, placed
him upon a level with Aristotle and Bacon; his realization of the per
fectness of moral quality, through Clotilde de Vaux, of its high uses,
unfolded to him a new religion, a religion of Man, or Humanity, which
can only be expressed by the homage paid to the moral qualities as em
bodied in their acknowledged representative, Woman. What individ
uals, Laura, Clotilde, or Beatrice, were in themselves, matters, we re
peat it, very little. It is enough that they stand as the types of Woman,
as the ideals of Mother, Daughter, Wife, Sister, Friend, or all of these
—as the embodiment of the sentiments and qualities which men most
venerate and admire, and which act upon them as the strongest incen
tive to worthy deeds.
In the preface to his Positive Catechism, which consists bf a series
of imaginary questions and answers between himself and adopted
daughter, which relation he had intended to legalize with Madame de
Vaux, if she had lived. Comte says, in reference to her—
“Through her I have at length become for Humanity, in the strict
I
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est sense, a twofold organ, as may any one who has reaped the full
advantages of woman’s influence. My career had been that of Aris
totle, I should have wanted energy for that of St. Paul, but for her. I
had extracted sound philosophy from real science ;»I was enabled by
her to found on the basis of that philosophy the universal religion.”
If Clotilde de Vaux had left no other evidence than Comte’s com
memoration of her worthiness, she would still stand in the niche of the
Temple of Humanity as its first high-priestess—as the eternal mother
of that ideal Woman whose image is enshrined in all good men’s
hearts, and is dimly realized in the goodness, purity, and self-sacrific
ing love of some every-day sister, wife, or mother.
But young as Madame de Vaux was at the time of her death, un
fortunately suppressed as the most important work of her life was by
the interference of relatives, she still left enough behind to show that
she was a woman true to all a woman’s best instincts, to all a man’s
' noblest ideals of Womanhood. Like Comte, her nature remained unwarped by the sad issue of her own conjugal relations. Her little
work, “ Lucie,” written altogether from her own inspiration, and before
her acquaintance with Comte, reveals at once a charming tenderness,
allied with real strength. Individual unhappiness did not lead her, as
it would a weaker nature, to denounce marriage, or seek in license the
remedy for social ills. On the contrary, in this work she idealizes mar
riage, accepts motherhood as the natural function of the mass of
women, anticipates Comte’s theory of protection for women, and de
mands governmental institutions for the aid and guardianship of un
protected women. Moreover, her advocacy of a true home-life for
women had more force in France than in this country, because there
the doctrine of individualism in marriage had been to a certain extent
conceded, and the relationship already assumed a business aspect
almost unknown here. The women of the middle classes, it is well
known, nearly control the retail trade of Paris, and their mercantile
activity and preoccupation undoubtedly prevents the realization of the
comfort and domesticity which belongs to the English acceptation of
the word home ; and while it has developed shrewdness and business
tact, certainly detracts somewhat from the reserve and delicacy which
naturally belongs to women.
In Comte’s theory of marriage, individual rights are not allowed a
place. The institution he considered necessary to the happiness of in
dividuals and the well-being of society, but the former he subordinates
to the latter, and he exacts from all men and women who take upon
themselves the obligations of marriage, a stern fulfilment of its re
quirements. He quotes with great approval the remarks of Madame
de Vaux, that “great natures will not involve others in their own sor
rows and difficulties,” and insists that the mistake of an individual
should be confined as much as possible to him or herself, and not hung
as a load upon the back of society.
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THE
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AUGUSTE
COMTE.
It is for its singular truth, purity, and integrity, that Madame
Clotilde de Vaux’s contribution to the literature of her day deserves
preservation, and for this reason we reproduce it here. Her clear mind
was alike uninfluenced by custom or the sophistical ideas of anarchists
and so-called reformers. She did not give to woman all the scope that
she must claim for herself while she possesses ability, but she fully
recognized the fact that the home is the woman’s rightful domain, that
the employment of her strength, talent and energies in other directions,
and especially as a means of livelihood, should be exceptional; that
the woman cannot be the mother and also the provider, and that no
woman ever tries to fill the two positions without feeling that she is
constantly sacrificing the greater to the less.
A presentation of a theory of marriage which recognizes its full
value, its sacredness, and its indissolubility, seems particularly desir
able just now, and in this country, where individualism is making it
self strongly felt, and social evils are seeking a remedy in the easy dis
ruption of the marriage bond. The position which Comte assigns to
Woman is clearly stated in the following extract from the general View
of Positivism :
“ The social mission of Woman, in the Positive system, follows as a
natural consequence from the qualities peculiar to her nature. In
the most essential attribute of the human race, the tendency to place
social above personal feeling, she is undoubtedly superior to man.
Morally, therefore, and apart from all material considerations, she
merits always our loving veneration, as the purest and simplest im
personation of Humanity who can never be adequately represented in
any masculine form. But these qualities do not involve the possession
of political power, which is sometimes claimed for women, with or
without their own consent. In that which is the great object of life
they are superior to men, but in the various means of obtaining that
object they are undoubtedly inferior. In all kinds of force, whether
physical, intellectual, or practical, it is certain than Man surpasses
Woman in accordance with a general law which prevails throughout
the animal kingdom. Now, practical life is necessarily governed by
force rather than by affection, because it requires unremitting and
laborious activity. If there were nothing else to do but to love, as in
the Christian Utopia of a future life in which there are no material
wants, Woman would be supreme. But life is surrounded with diffi
culties, which it needs all our thoughts and energies to avoid; therefore
Man takes the command notwithstanding his inferiority in goodness.
Success in all great efforts depends more upon energy and talent than
upon moral excellence, although this condition reacts strongly upon the
others. Thus the three elements of our moral constitution do not act
in perfect harmony. Force is naturally supreme, and all that women
can do is to modify it by affection. Justly conscious of their superior
ity in strength of feeling, they endeavor to assert their influence in a
�THE
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191
way which is often attributed by superficial observers to the mere love
of power. But experience always teaches them that in a world where
the simplest necessaries of life are scarce and difficult to procure, power
must belong to the strongest, though the latter may deserve it best.
With all their efforts, they never can do more than modify the harsh
ness with which men exercise their authority. And' men submit more
readily to this modifying influence from feeling that in the highest at
tributes of humanity women are their superiors. They see that their
own supremacy is due principally to the material necessities of life,
provision for which calls into play the self-regarding rather than the
social instincts; hence we find it the case in every phase of human so
ciety, that women’s life is essentially domestic, public life being prin
cipally confined to men. Civilization, so far from effacing this natural
distinction, tends, as I shall afterwards show, to develop it, while rem
edying its abuses.”
The following “ Complement of the Dedication ” to Mad. Clotilde
de Vaux is from the pen of Auguste Comte, and will be found in his
last great work. It is followed by her novelette of “ Lucie ” and her
poem, “ Thoughts of the Flowers,” which Comte repeated every morn
ing for the nine years preceding his death.
COMPLEMENT OF THE DEDICATION.
Paris, 12th Dante, 62.
Saturday, July 27th, 1850.
In order to complete this exceptional dedication, I think I should add to it the
only composition published by my sacred colleague. This touching novel, of which
the principal situation essentially characterizes the conjugal destiny of the unhappy
Clotilde, was inserted in the columns of the “National ” on the 20th and 21st of
June, 1845. In reproducing it here, I hope to furnish competent judges with a
direct proof of the exalted nature, intellectual and moral, of the unknown angel
who presides over my second life.
Following this characteristic production, I publish my unedited letter on the
social commemoration, which would have appeared with “ Lucie,” but for the ma
levolence of a well-known journalist, who has proved himself unworthy of confi
dence. This little composition offers a certain historical interest to all those who
understand the Religion of Humanity. They -will see in it the first direct and dis
tinct germs of an immense moral and social synthesis, spontaneously arrived at
through a pure, private effusion. My normal reaction of the heart, on the mind,
was thus manifested several years before I had constructed its definitive theory.
I end this natural complement of my dedication with an unedited canzone, that
Madame de Vaux wished to place in her “ Willelmine,” although she had composed
it in 1843. These graceful strophes, of which Petrarch could have perhaps envied
the sweetness, can indicate the facility and the versatility of a talent worthy of the
highest commendation. The poetical tendency of this exalted soul showed itself
involuntarily, in her most trifling inspirations. IKwould be, for example, suffi
ciently characterized by this melancholy inscription, secretly written at the age of
twenty-two, in an old “ Journal of a Christian,” which I preserve religiously.
“ Precious souvenir of my youth, companion and guide of the holy hours which
have lived for me, and which always recall to my heart the ceremonies, grand and
sweet, of the convent chapel.”
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’‘LUCIE.”
A Novelette, by Clotilde De Vaux.
A few years since, the little town of----- was stupefied by the commission of a
crime complicated with extraordinary circumstances.
A young man, belonging to a distinguished family, had disappeared under a
terrible suspicion. He was accused of having assassinated a banker, his partner,
and stolen from him a considerable amount of valuables. This double crime was
attributed to the fatal passion for gaming. The culprit abandoned, after a few
months of marriage, a young wife endowed with great beauty and the most emi
nent qualities. An orphan, she remained, at twenty years of age, condemned to
isolation, misery, and a position without hope.
The laws granted her spontaneously the separation of person and wealth ; that
is to say, of all that which she had already lost. Her husband’s family lent her a
shelter and a pair of shoes. Rich men who admired her, added to her anguish of
heart insulting offers of protection as disgraceful as they were humiliating.
She was, happily, one of those noble women who accept misfortune more easily
than disgrace. Her clear mind fully unveiled to her the position she was in ; she
comprehended that she owed to her beauty the interest she excited in men ; she
foresaw the dangers that professions of sympathy hide, and wished to draw from
herself alone all mitigation of her fate. This courageous resolution having been
taken, the young wife thought only of executing it. Possessing a remarkable talent,
she proceeded to Paris to make use of it. After several trials, she was admitted as
a teacher into the house of the Abbaye-awe-Bois, where she found an honorable
asylum.
During this time, justice took its course ; active steps sought everywhere for
traces of the fugitive. Already the irritated creditors had divided the property of
the unhappy wife, whose clothing and jewels, even to the little treasures of her
girlhood, had been sold at auction. The interest she inspired was so great, that
strangers voluntarily redeemed these pledges and returned them to her.
One young girl purchased a medallion which contained her portrait, and wore
it like that of her patron saint, and the priest of the place bought her weddingdress to decorate the altar of the Virgin.
These details sensibly affected the unfortunate one. A noble pride became
joined in her heart to a profound sensibility: she felt herself sustained by these
proofs of interest that reached her from so many sources. Filled with terror at the
remembrance of her first love, she considered her chain as a barrier that she had
voluntarily placed between herself and men. The horror and peril of her position
thus escaped her mind, and she accepted without a complaint the unjust decree of
the laws.
An indestructible sentiment, a sweet and holy friendship of childhood, at first
saved this noble heart from the bitter griefs of solitude. Philosophy, so pitiful and
so arid in egotistical souls, developed its magnificent proportions in that of the
young woman. Poor, she found the means of doing good : if she rarely went into
the churches, where frivolity sits side by side with sanctity, she was often met in
the garrets of the poor, where, misfortune hides itself like shame.
Two years slipped by without any event transpiring to change this strange and
unhappy position. Time, which can only increase great sorrows, had impaired,
little by little, the admirable organization of the orphan. To her heroic courage,
to her persevering efforts to tread'the rough path marked out for her, there suc
ceeded a profound dejection. Thirteen letters which have fallen into my hands
paint better than I can the griefs of the weary heart. I ask permission to reproduce
them, and thus finish this history.
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OF AUGUSTE
COMTE.
193
FIRST LETTER.
LUCIE TO MADAM M.
I write to thee from Malzéville, where I intend to pass several months, my
beloved. My lungs had need of country air, and country milk ; and our worthy
friends have seized this pretext to invite me to share their pleasant solitude. How
much I love these excellent people ! May I not resemble them, or at least allow
my heart to share in the peace which reigns in the depths of theirs ? Meanwhile I
feel better here : nothing is so healthy as the sight of beautiful nature, and of this
laborious and uniform life which forces the mind to rule itself.
The General awaits the near arrival of his neighbor, who is reputed the bene
factor of all this little region. He is a young man of twenty-six, the possessor of a
handsome fortune, and a sincere disciple of liberal ideas. He has with him his
mother, whom he adores, and of whom they tell a great deal of good.
Thou dost advise me to cultivate flowers so as to wean me from music and
reading. Alas 1 my beloved, are not these the only pleasures that remain to me ?
When I have paid my feeble tribute to friendship, when I have read to the General
some passages in his memoirs, when we have together evoked great and sacred
recollections, or when I have shared with my friend her little domestic cares, I
resign myself to tins absorbing faculty of thinking and feeling, which has become
the resource of my existence ; and yet, no woman loves a peaceful and simple life
more than I. What brilliant pleasures would I not have sacrificed with joy to the
duties and happiness of the family circle ! What successes would not have appeared
silly compared with the caresses of my children ! 0. my friend, maternity, that is
the sentiment whose phantom rises so strong and so impetuous in my heart. This
love, which survives all others, is it not given to woman to purify and mitigate her
her sorrows ?
SECOND LETTER.
MAURICE TO
BOGER.
Roger, I have at last seen this woman, so grand, and so unhappy, of whom thou
didst speak to me with pride. Do not say that “ the die is cast,” if I avow to thee
the deep impression that I have felt at the sight of this young and beautiful martyr
to social injustice. The touching virtues of Lucie, her mind, her unconscious atti
tudes, everything about her bears forever the imprint of a profound grief. One
feels, in seeing her, that she will have need of generosity in order to love. How
ever, is she not free in all honor and reason ? By what astonishing lack of .fore
sight in the laws, may the pure and respected woman find herself chained by
society to the branded being whom it casts from its bosom ?
What do we call civil death ? Is it a phantom ? To what end does society
bind a wife to a man who can no longer give birth but to outcasts ? By what right
does it impose isolation and celibacy on one of its members ? From what motive
does it force a living death, or irregularities which it condemns ?
But I speak as if before judges. Roger, my blood is ready to boil when I see
how the apathy of men produces and seems to sanction misfortune and oppression.
I have just had a belvedere built in sight of Malzéville ; from there, with a tele
scope, I see the whole of thé General’s pretty house. Yesterday, I perceived Lucie,
who was seated on the edge of a small stream of water; her attitude was dejected.
Shall I say it to thee, her looks seemed to me to be often directed toward the south.
Alas ! in seeing her so graceful and so broken, I asked myself with disgust the
secret of certain influences over our hearts. Why do we see vulgar women fasci
nate superior intellects and become the objects of a true worship? How does it
happen that the generosity and nobleness of certain women are seen so often in the
�194
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COMTE.
power Ol selfishness and grossness? We must give up the explanation of this
enigma.
As thou dost wish a new description of Oneil, I shall tell you, my dear Roger,
that, I have made of it one of the prettiest places in the department. They described
to me lately a recent dispute on my account between the inhabitants of the neigh
boring corporation and an old, decayed gentleman. They excited themselves with
nothing less than a discussion as to whether they owed the title of Chateau to Oneil,
and the first piece of consecrated bread to its proprietor. I have settled the ques
tion by not going to mass, and by calling the whole country my valley.
THIRD LETTER.
MAURICE TO
ROGER.
Never, Roger, never will another woman excite in me the powerful and elevated
sentiments with which the mere sight of Lucie inspires me. Friend, thou hast
spoken truth ; it is in vain that the laws, opinion, and the world raise their triple
barrier between us ; love will reunite us, I feel it. Who knows better than thou
the needs of my heart and its insurmountable repugnance to vulgar joys ? Alas !
before meeting Lucie, I have often felt that it is dangerous to refine its sensations.
A little while ago my mother made her visit to Malzeville. I was curious, I
avow it to thee, to know the impression Lucie would produce upon her. On arriving
before the grating of the little park, we saw her grafting a rose-tree. She was
dressed in white ; a large garden-hat carelessly covered her head, a simple green
ribbon defined her small and elegant waist. One would say, on seeing her, the
sweetest ideal of Galatia.
I was surprised to perceive no emotion on my mother’s face, she. ordinarily so
kind, and who finds so much pleasure in admiring ; she was dignified and cold during
our visit; the words duty and honor found a place in all her phrases. For the first
time I had a glimpse of what is bitter and implacable in feminine rivalries. Guided
by the delicate tact, that the habit of suffering gives, Lucie withdrew before we did,
under some slight pretext. Would that I had dared to follow her, and throw my
self at her feet to protest against my mother’s words.
Roger, this moment settles my fate forever ! I comprehend that it is my duty
to snatch this sweet victim from misfortune. Perish the chimeras that rise up
between us ! I feel myself strong against the false faith of opinion and the blame
of the envious ; may I also be so against the self-abnegation and grandeur of Lucie 1
FOURTH LETTER.
MAURICE
TO ROGER
One could willingly curse civilization and enlightenment, when one sees the
small number of just minds and upright hearts that there are in the world. I could
not tell thee how many pitiful and odious insinuations I have to submit to every
day on Lucie’s account. But, what is not the least shocking, all the honor rests
with these corrupters of morality who stand proudly on their small proprieties as
on a rock of impregnable virtue. It seems, in truth, that success only accompanies
hypocrisy and deceit.
I have just had a painful conversation with my mother, which has only more
strongly confirmed my loyalty and devotion. The latter is a magnificent virtue : it
lives, however, much more willingly on enjoyments than on sacrifices. I have
lately met in the world the young Countess of -------- , whose husband is in the
galleys. She was twenty-four years of age when this fatality overtook her; she
was remarkably pretty and amiable. The worthy L-------- fell in love with her,
and they are united. Well! she told me that what she has had to suffer from her
�TH£
LOVE-LIFE
OF AUGUSTE
COMTE.
195
own family is incalculable. When I expressed to her my astonishment, seeing
their advanced ideas in everything, she answered me, “ Are you still in your cate
chism in regard to men ? They authorize me to be an atheist, but not to do with
out the sacraments.”
So it is, my worthy Roger, that this admirable humanity is not yet well rid of
its debt toward the monkeys, from whom several doctors insist that it is directly
descended.
FIFTH LETTER.
MAURICE TO LUCIE.
What have you done, Lucie ? What fatal thought have you obeyed in remov
ing yourself from me ? Alas! it is in vain that I seek to justify your silence; it
weighs on my heart like an icy burden. And meanwhile, only yesterday you made
me cherish my life. Your soul seemed to open itself to hope. When a trifling
danger menaced me on the border of the lake, you came to my assistance without
appearing to fear the presence of those around us. How beautiful you were at that
instant, and how womanly in your devotion ! Have you not read in every glance
the enthusiasm of which you were the object? 0 Lucie, when it was only neces
sary, perhaps, for you to show yourself as you are to soften my mother’s heart, by
what inconceivable misfortune do we find ourselves separated ? But perhaps you
are not the angelic woman that I thought I had discovered; perhaps a generous
love is beyond your powers ? Perhaps !—But of what use are these doubts ? You
alone can restore the peace that you have taken away ; I await a line from you, a
word that may teach me what are your future plans. Think of it! I will not
answer for myself if you continue to overwhelm me with your silence. Manuel is
going post-haste to Paris : in ten hours I may have your reply.
SIXTH LETTER.
MAURICE TO ROGER.
Must it then be so ? Roger, to have been acquainted with her, to know that
which contains this exalted heart, this delicate mind, and perhaps, in a few hours,
to have to deplore her loss! May my misery fall again on those who caused it!
Alas! when 1 accused her with what I have suffered, she was struck down with the
violence of her struggles and her love. I wander like a fool around the General’s
house, interrogating his people unceasingly, and receiving from them only vague
and unsatisfactory answers. Happily, the physician is ignorant of who I am, and
three times a day he forces the truth on my heart. I have this moment quitted
him ; he looked so sad, he seemed so overwhelmed that I conjured him not to hide
the worst from me. He assured me that she still exists ; but he expects a terrible
and inevitable crisis.
P.S.-jShe is saved! One should love as I love to comprehend the magic of
such news. I threw myself at the feet of the physician ; I asked him for his
friendship. In vain he preserved a serious manner; I felt ready to perform any
folly in his presence. He is a distinguished man ; he spoke of Lucie with an enthu
siasm almost equal to my own. But, one thing struck me: he observed me often
with thoughtfulness, and seemed ready to confide a secret to me. I have vainly
endeavored several times to make him speak his mind. He always ends our con
versations about Lucie with this phrase : Society is very culpable.
I have often remarked that prudence is the vice of men in this profession, whose
profound knowledge renders so capable of assisting the social movement. What
important modifications could be produced in the laws by the sole authority of cer
tain scientific facts which remain eternally hidden from the vulgar ! I wish that a
great physician would publish his memoirs ; it would be, in my opinion, a very
useful book to humanity.
�196
THE LOVE-LIFE OF
AUGUSTE
COMTE
SEVENTH LETTER.
MAURICE TO ROGER.
x
Friend, I have seen her again ! Alas ! one dares not think that she still belongs
to earth, so much is her beauty invested with an ideal and celestial character. She
has consented to take her first walk leaning on my arm, and I was astonished at.
the simplicity with which she described to me her sufferings. If I do not deceive
myself, a gleam of hope has crept into her heart; but I have not been able to
explain to myself the meaning of several of her words. As we rested in the shade,
of a little ruined chapel, a villager’s wedding party passed before us. There was
so much happiness and freedom from care on their open countenances, that I could
not suppress a bitter reflection in comparing our destinies. Lucie trembled as she
heard me.
“ 0, my friend I” she exclaimed, “ they are happy ; but it is because their good
fortune neither afflicts nor offends any one.”
I looked at her with surprise ; her face was slightly flushed; she placed my
hand on her heart; then she resumed in a voice serious and moved : “ Maurice, it
is in vain that our misfortune forees us to set ourselves against society ; its institu
tions are great and venerable as the work of ages ; it is unworthy of great natures
to inflict upon others the sorrows that they feel.”
I would have answered her, but she made me a sign with her hand to indicate
that she felt very feeble. It began to grow late. The worthy doctor, who was
already anxious at not seeing Lucie return, came to meet us, and he assisted me in
supporting her as far as the entrance to the park of Malzeville, where it was neces
sary for us to separate.
Roger, all the obstacles that surround me frighten me less than Lucie’s natural
greatness. It is not to false prejudices, I feel it, that such a woman has been able
thus far to immolate the sweetest desires of her heart
EIGHTH LETTER.
LUCIE TO MADAM M.
My Cherished Friend:—Hope has overtaken me on my return to health; Maurice
consents to raise his powerful voice in a protest against the terrible abuse that
separates us. His mother has pressed me to her heart; I shall never forget the
delicious sensations that were mingled at that moment with the bitterness of my
recollections.
O my beloved 1 the love of a pure and good man is a sentiment full of power.
How much do I need courage and strength to resist it! But Maurice’s interests
and honor are dearer to me than my own happiness can be ; and I am also sustained
by the pride of seeing him attempt a noble enterprise ; for it seems to me, that in
it I also shall have accomplished something for humanity.
It was only yesterday that our fate was decided. We had spent the evening
with the worthy physician, whose sentiments are at the same time so gentle and
so elevated. Hardly had we left him, when Maurice impetuously seized my hand ;
and, pressing it to his heart, he swore to protect me in spite of the world, and no
longer permit me to forsake him. I collected my strength to struggle against
these sweet yet terrible emotions. I represented to him that duty commanded him
to endeavor to free me from my bonds, in claiming a wise and just law. I employed
to affect him the arguments which have the most influence on his great heart. I
described with ardor the advantages that society would receive from this courageous
attempt. For him, it was not difficult to interest him in the fate of those beings,
young, feeble, and defenceless, whom an odious bond consigns to despair. He
agreed that the injurious effects of the laws result mainly from the apathy of men,
and that it is always honorable and useful to struggle against oppression.
�THE LOVE-LIFE
OF AUGUSTE
COMTE.
197
We considered then our position from all points of view. Maurice agreed that
a tie like that which he was advising me to contract would suffice for happiness,
and that he would renounce, without the least regret, a world which sacrifices true
happiness to prejudices arrogantly adorned with the title of propriety. I confessed
to him that I did not feel myself high enough or low enough to brave opinion, and
that it would be sweet to me to be able to surround our love with the respect of
honest families.
He gently combated my ideas ; but the thought of his mother was joined in his
heart with all the elevated sentiments that belong to him. He finished by prom
ising me to address a petition to the Chamber of Deputies, and to await patiently
the result.
I threw myself at the feet of this man so dear, shedding tears of gratitude and
love. The efforts that I had made to control myself had so exhausted my strength
that it seemed to me that life was going to abandon me. I never felt its value so
much as at that moment.
O, my friend I thou who dost live calm and happy with the man of thy choice,
thou wilt comprehend all that passes in my heart. Thou knowest if I share the
ridicule poured upon those women who wish to be deputies, or who ride on horse
back to demonstrate that they could be at need excellent colonels of dragoons. But
thou knowest that I feel sensibly oppression where it is real. It is in striking a
blow at the true and modest happiness of woman, that the laws force her out of her
sphere, and make her at times forget her sublime destiny. Henrietta, what pleas
ures can exceed those of devotion ? To surround with comfort the man whom we
love, to be good and simple in the family, worthy and self-forgetting outside of it,
is not this our sweetest office and the one which suits us best ? It seems to me
that from the family circle radiates communities and the world, and is it not woman
who is the inspiration of them ?
NINTH LETTER.
MAUBICE TO
ROGER.
. A new grief has just burst upon her ; the monster who chains her to himself
lias been arrested on the frontier and conducted to the galleys at Toulon, where he
goes to suffer his penalty.
This event, which gives such great force to our demands, seems meanwhile to
have weakened Lucie’s courage. This heart so tender has fainted with terror
before the horrible denotement with which the laws associate her. The name that
she still bears echoes within her, loaded with infamy, and re-awakens all her
gloomy recollections. Her imperishable goodness has just added compassion to all
her wrongs. May her strength not be exhausted in this cruel struggle I No, I feel
it, laws cannot be voluntarily immoral and absurd. Evidence strikes men ; they
will break this odious bond which chains the purest being to a galley-slave.
Lucie will still suffer much ; but various circumstances have enlightened me on
all her sentiments, and I shall not sacrifice one of them to love. This noble woman
shall be a proud wife and mother, pure, true, and loving friend. The sacrifices that
she would valiantly accept for herself, she cannot bear the thought of bequeathing
to her children. May she find at last the reward of these sweet virtues ! I shall
rally my strength and my courage to subdue my impatience. 0 Roger! life has
hard trials. I send thee a copy of my petition to the Chamber.
“ Gentlemen Deputies :—There exists in the bosom of the. laws an abuse of
which the extent is frightful; permit me to signalize it by a striking example.
"A woman of twenty-two years, whose heart is pure and full of honor, finds
herself chained by marriage to a galley-slave. Fifteen years of imprisonment,
infamy, scorn, all that which separates virtue from vice, materially annuls this
odious bond.
�198
th/:
L(> rn-i.rPK
o f
augusth
comte.
" The man is civilly (lead; the woman, declared free by the tribunals, regains
possession of his fortune, which she already manages. All her rights are evident;
yet she must renounce the most precious of them, that of using the liberty of her
heart. By an inconceivable lack of foresight in the laws, this woman finds herself
" expelled from their protection, and placed by them between two abysses, misfor
tune and immorality. Which choice dare we assign her ? To adorn herself with
a barren heroism, shall she renounce love and motherhood, those beautiful and
noble rights of the wife ?
“ If isolation weighs like a sentence of death on her heart, and forces her to
contract a tie hostile to society, who will protect her against the evil testimony of
opinion, and against all the dangers attached to a false position ?
“ Between these two, there is a third, into which falls many oppressed and fee
ble natures—it is baseness.
“ Gentlemen deputies, I call your attention to this question of high morals, and
I solicit a law which establishes divorce for a single act of an infamous and criminal
character.”
TENTH LETTER.
MAURICE TO
ROGER.
Our hearts are calmer. Lucie seems happy in seeing me submissive to the laws
which govern society. May she reap the fruit of my patience !
Perhaps I have truly performed a duty. I have suffered so much for some time,
that I can no longer be a very good’judge on matters of wisdom. Abuses shock
me, and oppression inspires me with such horror that I would willingly flee before
it instead of contending with it. It may be that Lucie, in her heroism, is much
nearer than I to simple justice and morality. Few women unite as she does pene
tration and sensibility ; she is eminently loyal and spiritual. The better I under
stand this heart so tender, the more I feel that I could not too well repay her love.
How slowly each day brings the moment that unites us ! I love to surprise her
in the midst of the occupations which she invents for herself, while expecting me,,
she tells me. Yesterday I found her very busy copying a large boo’k of insignifi
cant music designed for schools. As I evinced my astonishment with much per
sistency, she ended by confessing that this work was one of her means of living. I
could not tell thee, Roger, the painful impression that this discovery made upon
me. The true duty of woman, is it not to surround man with the joys and affections
of the domestic hearth, and receive from him in exchange all the means of exist
ence that labor procures ? I would rather see the mother of a poor family washing
hei children s CiOthes, than see her earning a livelihood by her talents away from
home. I except, let it be understood, the eminent woman whose genius forces her
out of the family sphere. Such an one should find in society her free develop
ment ; for other minds are kindled by the exhibition of their powers.
I would not only that women might find in their fathers, their brothers, and
their husbands natural support; but that these supports failing them, they should
be sustained by governments. Institutions should be founded in which to unite
them and make use ot their various talents. There are many kinds of work that
can only be done by women. These labors could be performed in these establish
ments, where feeble and desolate women would at least be assured of a resource
against the wrongs which menace them in a struggle with the world without.
Our- towns would then have vast bazars where wealthy women would go to
choose their attire. We should no longer see poor girls attenuated by forced labor,
often obliged to walk all day to dispose of their work. These means, or others
analogous, would establish a slight proportion between the strength and the duties
of women, which are often so little in harmony.
�ELEVENTH LETTER.
MAURICE
TO ROGER.
Where to find a remnant of zeal in this weary, money-loving society ? Money !
that is the key to their dictionary, the word which we must absolutely grasp to
comprehend them.
I had confided to Count J--------our present position and my proceeding with
the Chamber. He thought he would benefit me by introducing me to several of the
men whom they call wise, no doubt because they have sacrificed the heart for the
good of the head. I did not believe that bluntness could go so far. The conversa
tion of these men resembled a veritable operation in stocks. It was a curious thing
to see their efforts to convert an unworldly person.
The obliging manner in which Count J----- — had introduced me to his circle
made me, in spite of myself, give my evidence. Forced to speak of my sentiments
and my opinions, I became at once the target for the whole assembly. They
defeated me in philosophy and morals. They were going to declare me sublime in
order to get rid of me, when one of the most influential men of the period took
me aside.
“ You resemble,” said he to me, “ a crow which pulls down walnuts. Do not
err thus. You have just offended men who were able and willing to serve you.
Arrange your affairs quickly ; and believe that a hero with fifteen thousand livres
rental is not strong enough to walk alone.”
This language astonished me so much that I remained silent.
“ You come,” he continued, “ to demand divorce; you are authorized by an
example striking enough. Truly, justice and reason are with you. A law restricted
like that which you demand, would pass without the least difficulty, and would be
a real benefit. Very well ! nevertheless, this law, it is a hundred to one, that you
will not obtain it.”
“ It is my conviction,” added he, while I repressed with difficulty a painful im
patience, “ the fault is yours, entirely yours. Wishing to play giant, foolishly
despising the hierarchy, refusing it deference, and exploring for all support the
arsenal of old words, is it not voluntarily taking the role of a dupe, and running,
dagger in hand, into the midst of a pigeon match ? Listen,” said he, “ if you were
not so young, you would be a fool. But that infirmity excuses everything. I offer
you, then, my influence with the ambassador of-------- . You have some position,
a noble figure ; you can advance yourself with him. You love a remarkable
woman, you will give her a station worthy of her; and believe me, love does very
well without marriage.”
Finishing his period, my worthy mentor threw me a significant glance and left,
me. I went to shake hands with Count J—
, so superior to the men by whom
he is surrounded, and I returned to Oneil with rage in my heart.
Roger, I shall promptly investigate what this man has said to me, and see if
there is no longer any trace of justice and honor in humanity. Lucie is too grand
and too pure to stoop before it.
TWELFTH LETTER.
LUCIE TO
MAURICE.
Maurice, you are noble and good. What heart can be more capable than yours
of comprehending justice and reason? 0 best and most generous of men, you to
whom I could have sacrificed with joy the peace of my whole life, could you but
know to what extent yours has been dear and sacred to me ! My beloved, it is in
vain that we attempt to struggle any longer against destiny. My soul is completely
broken under its blows. Alas ! when I gave myself up to the happiness of loving
�200
THE
LOVE-LIFE
OF
AUGUSTE
COMTE.
you, I thought to be able, in my turn, to add a charm to your life. Let me collect
my last powers in one consoling thought, hoping you will restore again to society
and your mother that which they have lost by your devotion to me. How often
have I seen your great soul incensed at the sight of the afflictions that fill the
world ! 0 Maurice! it is delicious to experience all generous emotions. What
destiny is at the same time greater and sweeter than that of the useful man ! Do
you not remember having often envied poor artisans the glory of a trifling dis
covery ? You who can do so much more than they, would you remain inactive ?
Dear, very dear friend, live to imprint on the earth your noble steps. When a man
like you appears in the midst of society, he should either bring to it his tribute of
light and virtue, or condemn himself to the silence and coldness of selfishness. I
know your soul; it is rich, and glowing as the clouds in a beautiful sky; never
would you have found happiness in isolation. Do not renounce family joys ; chil
dren will create great interests in your existence. You will find pleasure in devel
oping in them the noble germs that they will inherit from you. You will make
of their young hearts so many hearths in which the flame of yours will be diffused.
They will surround you with respect and love. O Maurice 1 are not all the felici
ties of life summed up in this single word ?
.
LAST LETTER.
DR.
L--------
TO
DR.
B--------.
My old friend, I approve the means you take in caring for yourself in turn. For
us. who believe in good, it is a painful spectacle that of society in disorder, where
nothing that is noble and great can succeed any longer. I have just witnessed
again one of those sacrifices which shock the heart and the reason. The unfortu
nate young woman whose history I have written to you, expired yesterday in my
arms, broken by sorrows that I refrain from describing to you. The man whom
she loved survived her but a few moments ; it seems as if he could comprehend
only his despair. In vain I tried to lead him to reason and calmness ; he blew out
his brains beside the death-bed. before I was able to prevent his fatal design.
Those who have known the interesting and unhappy woman whose loss I deplore, .
will comprehend the fatal passion that she inspired. She had one of those rare
organizations in which the heart and mind are equally balanced. No woman felt
more than she the possibilities of her position. She might have been an accom
plished mother and wife. Alas ! in seeing her die in my arms at the age when one
should live, I have painfully appreciated how little power is given to man to
repair the evil that he causes.
�
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Victorian Blogging
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A collection of digitised nineteenth-century pamphlets from Conway Hall Library & Archives. This includes the Conway Tracts, Moncure Conway's personal pamphlet library; the Morris Tracts, donated to the library by Miss Morris in 1904; the National Secular Society's pamphlet library and others. The Conway Tracts were bound with additional ephemera, such as lecture programmes and handwritten notes.<br /><br />Please note that these digitised pamphlets have been edited to maximise the accuracy of the OCR, ensuring they are text searchable. If you would like to view un-edited, full-colour versions of any of our pamphlets, please email librarian@conwayhall.org.uk.<br /><br /><span><img src="http://www.heritagefund.org.uk/sites/default/files/media/attachments/TNLHLF_Colour_Logo_English_RGB_0_0.jpg" width="238" height="91" alt="TNLHLF_Colour_Logo_English_RGB_0_0.jpg" /></span>
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Conway Hall Library & Archives
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2018
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Conway Hall Ethical Society
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Love-life of Auguste Comte
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Croly, Jennie June [1829-1901]
Description
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Place of publication: New York
Collation: [185]-201 p. ; 26 cm.
Notes: From the library of Dr Moncure Conway. From Modern Thinker, no. 1, 1870. Printed in red on pale yellow paper. The pseudonym of Jane Cunningham Croly, an English-born American journalist and clubwoman whose popular writings and socially conscious advocacy reflected her belief that equal rights and economic independence for women would allow them to become fully responsible, productive citizens. Includes a letter from Auguste Comte to Clothilde de Vaux, 'Lucie' a novelette by Vaux and her poem 'The Thoughts of a Flower'.
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[American News Company]
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[1890]
Identifier
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G5423
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<p class="western"><img src="http://i.creativecommons.org/p/mark/1.0/88x31.png" alt="Public Domain Mark" /><br />This work (Love-life of Auguste Comte), identified by <span style="color:#0000ff;"><span lang="zxx"><u>Humanist Library and Archives</u></span></span>, is free of known copyright restrictions.</p>
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application/pdf
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Text
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English
Subject
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Philosophy
Auguste Comte
Clothilde de Vaux
Conway Tracts