influence. The office of the mind is to strengthen and to cultivate the
heart; the heart again should animate and direct the mental powers.
This mutual influence of general views and generous feelings will
have greater effect upon scientific study, from the esthetic culture
previously given, in which such habits of mind will have been formed,
as will give grace and beauty to the whole life.

 [Governmental assistance not
 required, except for certain
 special institutions, and
 this only as a provisional
 measure]

When I speak of this education as specially destined for the people,
I am not merely using words to denote its comprehensiveness and
philosophic character. It is, in my opinion, the only education,
with the exception of certain special branches, for which public
organization is needed. It should be looked on as a sacred debt which
the republic owes to the working classes. But the claim does not extend
to other classes, who can easily pay for any special instruction that
they may require. Besides such instruction will be only a partial
development of the more general teaching, or an application of it to
some particular purpose. Therefore if the general training be sound,
most people will be able to prosecute accessory studies by themselves.
Apprenticeship to any business involves very little, except the
practice of it. Even in the highest arts, no course of systematic
instruction is necessary. The false views now prevalent on the subject
are due to the unfortunate absence of all general education, since
the decay of Catholicism. The special institutions founded in Europe
during the last three centuries, and carefully remodelled in France
by the Convention, are only valuable as containing certain germs of
truth, which will be found indispensable when general education is
finally reorganized. But important as they may be from a scientific
aspect, their practical utility, which seems to have been the motive
for establishing them, is exceedingly doubtful. The arts which they
were intended to promote could have done perfectly well without them. I
include in these remarks such institutions as the Polytechnic School,
the Museum of Natural History, etc. Their value, like that of all
good institutions of modern times, is purely provisional. Viewed in
this light, it may be worth our while to reorganize them. Positivist
principles, discarding all attempts to make them permanent, will be all
the better able to adapt them to their important temporary purpose.
Indeed there are some new institutions which it might be advisable to
form; such, for instance, as a School of Comparative Philology, the
object of which would be to range all human languages according to
their true affinities. This would compensate the suppression of Greek
and Latin professorships, which is certainly an indispensable measure.
But the whole of this provisional framework would no doubt disappear
before the end of the nineteenth century, when a system of general
education will have been thoroughly organized. The present necessity
for a provisional system should lead to no misconception of its
character and purpose. Working men are the only class who have a real
claim upon the State for instruction; and this, if wisely organized,
dispenses with the necessity of special institutions. The adoption of
these views would at once facilitate and ennoble popular education.
Nations, provinces, and towns will vie with one another in inviting
the best teachers that the spiritual authorities of Western Europe can
supply. And every true philosopher will take pride in such teaching,
when it becomes generally understood that the popular character of
his lectures implies that they shall be at the same time systematic.
Members of the new spiritual power will in most cases regard teaching
as their principal occupation, for at least a considerable portion of
their public life.

 [We are not ripe for this
 system at present; and
 Government must not attempt
 to hasten its introduction]

What has been said makes it clear that any organization of such
education as this at the present time would be impossible. However
sincere the intentions of governments to effect this great result
might be, any premature attempt to do it would but injure the work,
especially if they put in a claim to superintend it. The truth is
that a system of education, if it deserve the name, presupposes the
acceptance of a definite philosophical and social creed to determine
its character and purpose. Children cannot be brought up in convictions
contrary to those of their parents; indeed, the influence of the
parent is essential to the instructor. Opinions and habits that have
been already formed may subsequently be strengthened by an educational
system; but the carrying out of any such system is impossible,
until the principles of combined action and belief have been well
established. Till then the organization that we propose can only be
effected in the case of individuals who are ripe for it. Each of
these will endeavour to repair the faults and deficiencies of his own
education in the best way he can, by the aid of the general doctrine
which he accepts. Assuming that the doctrine is destined to triumph,
the number of such minds gradually increases, and they superintend the
social progress of the next generation. This is the natural process,
and no artificial interference can dispense with it. So far, then, from
inviting government to organize education, we ought rather to exhort it
to abdicate the educational powers which it already holds, and which,
I refer more especially to France, are either useless or a source of
discord. There are only two exceptions to this remark, namely, primary
education, and special instruction in certain higher branches. Of these
I have already spoken. But with these exceptions, it is most desirable
that government, whether municipal or central, should surrender its
unreasonable monopoly, and establish real liberty of teaching; the
condition of such liberty being, as I said before, the suppression of
all annual grants whatsoever for theological or metaphysical purposes.
Until some universal faith has been accepted on its own merits, all
attempts made by Government to reform education must necessarily
be reactionary; since they will always be based on some one of the
retrogressive creeds which it is our object to supersede altogether.

It is with adults, then, that we must deal. We must endeavour to
disseminate systematic convictions among them, and thus open the
door to a real reform of education for the next generation. The
press and the power of free speech offer many ways of bringing
about this result. The most important of these would be a more or
less connected series of popular lectures on the various positive
sciences, including history, which may now be ranked among them. Now
for these lectures to produce their full effect, they must even when
treating of the most elementary point in mathematics, be thoroughly
philosophic and consequently animated by a social spirit. They must
be entirely independent of government, so as not to be hampered by
any of the authorized views. Lastly, there is a condition in which
all the rest are summed up. These lectures should be Occidental, not
simply National. What we require is a free association of philosophers
throughout Western Europe, formed by the voluntary co-operation of all
who can contribute efficiently to this great preliminary work; their
services being essentially gratuitous. It is a result which no system
but Positivism is capable of effecting. By its agency that coalition
between philosophers and the working classes, on which so much depends,
will speedily be established.

While the work of propagating Positivist convictions is going on in the
free and unrestricted manner here described, the spiritual authority
will at the same time be forming itself, and will be prepared to make
use of these convictions as the basis for social regeneration. Thus
the transitional state will be brought as nearly as possible into
harmony with the normal state; and this the more in proportion as the
natural affinity between philosophers and workmen is brought out more
distinctly. The connexion between Positivist lectures and Positivist
clubs will illustrate my meaning. While the lectures prepare the
way for the Future, the clubs work in the same direction by judging
the Past, and advising for the Present; so that we have at once a
beginning of the three essential functions of the new spiritual power.

We have now a clear conception of popular education in its provisional,
and in its normal state. Long before the normal state can be realized,
the mutual action of philosophers and workmen will have done great
service to both. Meeting with such powerful support from the people,
the rising spiritual power will win the respect if not the affection
of their rulers, even of those among them who are now the most
contemptuous of every influence but that of material power. Their
excess of pride will often be so far humbled that they will invite
its mediation in cases where the people have been roused to just
indignation. The force of numbers seems at first so violent as to carry
all before it; but in the end it usually proves far inferior to that
of wealth. It cannot exist for any length of time without complete
convergence of opinion and feeling. Hence, a spiritual power has very
great weight in controlling or directing its action. Philosophers will
never, indeed, be able to manage the working classes as they please,
as some unprincipled agitators have imagined; but when they exercise
their authority rightly, whether it be in the cause of Order or that
of Progress, they will have great power over their passions and
conduct. Such influence can only spring from long cherished feelings
of gratitude and trust, due not merely to presumed capacity but to
services actually rendered. No one is a fit representative of his own
claims; but the philosopher may honourably represent the cause of
working men before the governing classes; and the people will in their
turn compel their rulers to respect the new spiritual power. By this
habitual exchange of services the aspirations of the people will be
kept clear of all subversive tendencies, and philosophers will be led
to abandon the folly of seeking political power. Neither class will
degrade itself by making its own interest the chief consideration: each
will find its own reward in keeping to the nobler course of its own
social duty.

 [Intellectual attitude of
 the people. Emancipation
 from theological belief]

To complete this view of the political attitude which Positivism
recommends to the working class, I have now to speak of the
intellectual and moral conditions which that attitude requires, and on
which the character of their spiritual leaders depends. What is wanted
is only a more perfect development of tendencies which already exist in
the people, and which have already shown themselves strong in Paris,
the centre of the great Western movement.

Intellectually the principal conditions are two; Emancipation from
obsolete beliefs, and a sufficient amount of mental culture.

The emancipation of the working classes from theology is complete, at
least in Paris. In no other class has it so entirely lost its power.
The shallow deism, which satisfies so many of our literary men, finds
little favour with the people. They are happily unversed in studies
of words and abstractions, without which this last stage in the
process of emancipation speedily comes to an end. We only require a
stronger expression of popular feeling on this point, so as to avoid
all deception and false statement as to the intellectual character of
the reorganization that is going on. And the freedom that we are now
enjoying will admit of these feelings being unmistakably manifested,
especially now that they have the new philosophy for their exponent.
A distinct declaration of opinion on this subject is urgently needed
on social grounds. That hypocritical affectation of theological belief
against which we have to fight, is designed to prevent, or at least
has the effect of preventing, the just enforcement of popular claims.
These unscrupulous attempts to mystify the people involve their mental
subjection. The result is, that their legitimate aspirations for real
progress are evaded, by diverting their thoughts towards an imaginary
future state. It is for the working classes themselves to break
through this concerted scheme, which is even more contemptible than
it is odious. They have only to declare without disguise what their
intellectual position really is; and to do this so emphatically as
to make any mistake on the part of the governing classes impossible.
They will consequently reject all teachers who are insufficiently
emancipated, or who in any way support the system of theological
hypocrisy, which, from Robespierre downwards, has been the refuge of
all reactionists, whether democrat or royalist. But there are teachers
of another kind, who sincerely maintain that our life here on earth is
a temporary banishment, and that we ought to take as little interest
in it as possible. A prompt answer may be given to such instructors
as these. They should be requested to follow out their principle
consistently, and to cease to interfere in the management of a world
which is so alien to what, in their ideas, is the sole aim of life.

 [From metaphysical doctrines]

Metaphysical principles have more hold on our working classes than
theological; yet their abandonment is equally necessary. The subtle
extravagances by which the German mind has been so confused, find,
it is true, little favour in Catholic countries. But even in Paris
the people retains a prejudice in favour of metaphysical instruction,
though happily it has not been able to obtain it. It is most desirable
that this last illusion of our working classes should be dissipated,
as it forms the one great obstacle to their social action. One
reason for it is that they fall into the common error of confounding
knowledge with intelligence, and imagine in their modesty that none
but instructed men are capable of governing. Now this error, natural
as it is, often leads them to choose incompetent leaders. A truer
estimate of modern society would teach them that it is not among our
literary, or even our scientific men, proud as they may be of their
attainments, that the largest number of really powerful intellects are
to be found. There are more of them among the despised practical class,
and even amongst the most uninstructed working men. In the Middle Ages
this truth was better known than it is now. Education was thought more
of than instruction. A knight would be appreciated for his sagacity
and penetration, and appointed to important posts, though he might be
extremely ignorant. Clear-sightedness, wisdom, and even consistency of
thought, are qualities which are very independent of learning; and, as
matters now stand, they are far better cultivated in practical life
than in scholastic study. In breadth of view, which lies at the root
of all political capacity, our literary classes have certainly shown
themselves far below the average.

 [Their mistaken preference
 of literary and rhetorical
 talent to real intellectual
 power]

And now we come to another and a deeper reason for the prejudice of
which I am speaking. It is that they make no distinction between
one kind of instruction and another. The unfortunate confidence
which they still bestow on literary men and lawyers shows that the
prestige of pedantry lingers among them longer than the prestige of
theology or monarchy. But all this will soon be altered under the
influence of republican government, and the strong discipline of a
sound philosophical system. Popular instinct will soon discover that
constant practice of the faculty of expression, whether in speech or
in writing, is no guarantee for real power of thought; indeed that it
has a tendency to incapacitate men from forming a clear and decided
judgment on any question. The instruction which such men receive is
utterly deficient in solid principles, and it almost always either
presupposes or causes a total absence of fixed convictions. Most minds
thus trained, while skilled in putting other men’s thoughts into shape,
become incapable of distinguishing true from false in the commonest
subjects, even when their own interest requires it. The people must
give up the feeling of blind respect which leads them to intrust such
men with their higher interests. Reverence for superiors is doubtless
indispensable to a well-ordered state; only it needs to be better
guided than it is now.

What then, working men may ask, is the proper training for themselves,
and consequently for those who claim to guide them? The answer is,
systematic cultivation of the Positive spirit. It is already called
into exercise by their daily occupations; and all that is wanted is
to strengthen it by a course of scientific study. Their daily work
involves a rudimentary application of the Positive method: it turns
their attention to many most important natural laws. In fact, the
workmen of Paris, whom I take as the best type of their class, have
a clearer sense of that union of reality with utility by which the
Positive spirit is characterized, than most of our scientific men.
The speciality of their employment is no doubt disadvantageous with
respect to breadth and coherence of ideas. But it leaves the mind
free from responsibility, and this is the most favourable condition
for developing these qualities to which all vigorous intellects are
naturally disposed. But nothing will so strongly impress on the
people the importance of extending and organizing their scientific
knowledge, as their interest in social questions. Their determination
to rectify a faulty condition of society will suggest to them that
they must first know what the laws of Social life really are;
knowledge which is obviously necessary in every other subject. They
will then feel how impossible it is to understand the present state
of society, without understanding its relation on the one hand with
the Past, and on the other with the Future. Their desire to modify
the natural course of social phenomena will make them anxious to know
the antecedents and consequences of these phenomena, so as to avoid
all mischievous or useless interference. They will thus discover
that Political Art is even more dependent than other arts, upon
its corresponding Science. And then they will soon see that this
science is no isolated department of knowledge, but that it involves
preliminary study of Man and of the World. In this way they will pass
downwards through the hierarchic scale of Positive conceptions, until
they come back to the inorganic world, the sphere more immediately
connected with their own special avocations. And thus they will reach
the conclusion that Positivism is the only system which can satisfy
either the intellectual or material wants of the people, since its
subject-matter and its objects are identical with their own, and since,
like themselves, it subordinates everything to social considerations.
All that it claims is to present in a systematic form principles which
they already hold instinctively. By co-ordinating these principles of
morality and good sense, their value, whether in public or in private
questions, is largely increased; and the union of the two forms of
wisdom, theoretical and practical wisdom, is permanently secured.
When all this is understood, the people will feel some shame at
having entrusted questions of the greatest complexity to minds that
have never quite comprehended the difference between a cubic inch
and a cubic foot. As to men of science, in the common acceptation of
the word, who are so respected by the middle classes, we need not
be afraid of their gaining much influence with the people. They are
alienated from them by their utter indifference to social questions;
and before these their learned puerilities fade into insignificance.
Absorbed in the details of their own special science, they are quite
incapable of satisfying unsophisticated minds. What the people want is
to have clear conceptions on all subjects, _des clartés de tout_, as
Molière has it. Whenever the savants of our time are drawn by their
foolish ambition into politics, ordinary men find to their surprise
that, except in a few questions of limited extent and importance,
their minds have become thoroughly narrow under the influence of the
specializing system of which they are so proud. Positivism explains
the mystery, by showing that, since the necessity for the specializing
system now no longer exists, it naturally results if prolonged, in a
sort of academic idiocy. During the last three centuries it did real
service to society, by laying down the scientific groundwork for the
renovation of Philosophy projected by Bacon and Descartes. But as soon
as the groundwork was sufficiently finished to admit of the formation
of true Science, that is, of Science viewed relatively to Humanity,
the specializing method became retrograde. It ceased to be of any
assistance to the modern spirit; and indeed it is now, especially in
France, a serious obstacle to its diffusion and systematic working.
The wise revolutionists of the Convention were well aware of this
when they took the bold step of suppressing the Academy of Sciences.
The beneficial results of this statesman-like policy will soon be
appreciated by our workmen. The danger lest, in withdrawing their
confidence from metaphysicians or literary men, they should fall into
the bad scientific spirit, is not therefore very great. With the social
aims which they have in view, they cannot but see that generality in
their conceptions is as necessary as positivity. The Capitalist class
by which industry is directed, being more concentrated on special
objects, will always look on men of pure science with more respect.
But the people will be drawn by their political leanings towards
philosophers in the true sense of that word. The number of such men is
but very small at present; but it will soon increase at the call of the
working classes, and will indeed be recruited from their ranks.

 [Moral attitude of the
 people. The workman should
 regard himself as a public
 functionary]

This, then, should be the attitude of the working class,
intellectually. Morally, what is required is, that they should have
a sufficient sense of the dignity of labour, and that they should be
prepared for the mission that now lies before them.

The workman must learn to look upon himself, morally, as a public
servant, with functions of a special and also of a general kind. Not
that he is to receive his wages for the future from the State instead
of from a private hand. The present plan is perfectly well adapted to
all services which are so direct and definite, that a common standard
of value can be at once applied to them. Only let it be understood
that the service is not sufficiently recompensed, without the social
feeling of gratitude towards the agent that performs it. In what are
called liberal professions, this feeling already obtains. The client or
patient is not dispensed from gratitude by payment of his fee. In this
respect the republican instincts of the Convention have anticipated the
teaching of philosophy. They valued the workman’s labour at its true
worth. Workmen have only to imagine labour suppressed or even suspended
in the trade to which they may belong, to see its importance to the
whole fabric of modern society. Their general function as a class, the
function of forming public opinion, and of supporting the action of
the spiritual power, it is of course less easy for them to understand
at present. But, as I have already shown, it follows so naturally
from their character and position, and corresponds so perfectly with
their requirements as a class, that they cannot fail to appreciate
its importance, when the course of events allows, or rather compels
them to bring it into play. The only danger lies in their insisting
on the possession of what metaphysicians call political rights, and
in engaging in useless discussions about the distribution of power,
instead of fixing their attention on the manner in which it is used. Of
this, however, there is no great fear, at all events in France, where
the metaphysical theory of Right has never reached so fanatical a pitch
with the working classes as elsewhere. Ideologists may blame them, and
may use their official influence as they will; but the people have too
much good sense to be permanently misled as to their true function in
society. Deluged as they have been with electoral votes, they will soon
voluntarily abandon this useless qualification, which now has not even
the charm of a privilege. Questions of pure politics have ceased to
interest the people; their attention is fixed, and will remain fixed,
on social questions, which are to be solved for the most part through
moral agencies. That substitutions of one person or party for another,
or that mere modifications of any kind in the administration should be
looked on as the final issue of the great Revolution, is a result in
which they will never acquiesce.

And if this is to be the attitude of the people, it must be the
attitude no less of those who seek to gain their confidence. With
them, as with the people, political questions should be subordinate
to social questions; and with them the conviction should be even more
distinct, that the solution of social problems depends essentially
on moral agencies. They must, in fact, accept the great principle of
separation of spiritual from temporal power, as the basis on which
modern society is to be prominently organized. So entirely does the
principle meet the wants of the people, that they will soon insist
on its adoption by their teachers. They will accept none who do not
formally abandon any prospects they may have of temporal power,
parliamentary as well as administrative. And by thus dedicating their
lives without reservation to the priesthood of Humanity, they will gain
confidence, not merely from the people, but from the governing classes.
Governments will offer no impediment to social speculations which do
not profess to be susceptible of immediate application; and thus the
normal state may be prepared for in the future without disturbance,
and yet without neglecting the present. Practical statesmen meanwhile,
no longer interfered with by pretentious sophists, will give up their
retrograde tendencies, and will gradually adapt their policy to the new
ideas current in the public mind, while discharging the indispensable
function of maintaining material order.

 [Ambition of power and
 wealth must be abandoned]

For the people to rise to the true level of their position, they have
only to develop and cultivate certain dispositions which already
exist in them spontaneously. And the most important of these is,
absence of ambition for wealth or rank. Political metaphysicians
would say that the sole object of the Great Revolution was to give
the working classes easier access to political and civil power. But
this, though it should always be open to them, is very far from
meeting their true wants. Individuals among them may be benefited by
it, but the mass is left unaffected, or rather is placed often in
a worse position, by the desertion of the more energetic members.
The Convention is the only government by which this result has been
properly appreciated. It is the only government which has shown due
consideration for working men as such; which has recognized the value
of their services, and encouraged what is the chief compensation for
their condition of poverty, their participation in public life. All
subsequent governments, whether retrograde or constitutional, have, on
the contrary, done all they could to divert the people from their true
social function, by affording opportunity for individuals among them
to rise to higher positions. The monied classes, under the influence
of blind routine, have lent their aid to this degrading policy, by
continually preaching to the people the necessity of saving; a precept
which is indeed incumbent on their own class, but not on others.
Without saving, capital could not be accumulated and administered; it
is therefore of the highest importance that the monied classes should
be as economical as possible. But in other classes, and especially in
those dependent on fixed wages, parsimonious habits are uncalled for
and injurious; they lower the character of the labourer, while they
do little or nothing to improve his physical condition; and neither
the working classes nor their teachers should encourage them. Both
the one and the other will find their truest happiness in keeping
clear of all serious practical responsibility, and in allowing free
play to their mental and moral faculties in public as well as private
life. In spite of the Economists, savings-banks are regarded by the
working classes with unmistakable repugnance. And the repugnance is
justifiable; they do harm morally, by checking the exercise of generous
feelings. Again, it is the fashion to declaim against wine-shops; and
yet after all they are at present the only places where the people can
enjoy society. Social instincts are cultivated there which deserve our
approval far more than the self-helping spirit which carries men to
the savings-bank. No doubt this unconcern for money, wise as it is,
involves real personal risk; but it is a danger which civilization is
constantly tending to diminish, without effacing qualities which do
the workman honour, and which are the source of his most cherished
pleasures. The danger ceases when the mental and moral faculties
are called into stronger exercise. The interest which Positivism
will arouse among the people in public questions, will lead to the
substitution of the club for the wine-shop. In these questions, the
generous inspirations of popular instinct hold out a model which
philosophers will do well to follow themselves. Fondness for money is
as much a disqualification for the spiritual government of Humanity, as
political ambition. It is a clear proof of moral incompetence, which is
generally connected in one way or other with intellectual feebleness.

One of the principal results of the spiritual power exercised by
philosophers and the working classes under the Positivist system, will
be to compensate by a just distribution of blame and praise for the
imperfect arrangements of social rank, in which wealth must always
preponderate. Leaving the present subordination of offices untouched,
each functionary will be judged by the intrinsic worth of his mind and
heart, without servility and yet without any encouragement to anarchy.
It must always be obvious that the political importance which high
position gives, is out of all proportion to the real merit implied
in gaining that position. The people will come to see more and more
clearly that real happiness, so far from depending on rank, is far more
compatible with their own humble station. Exceptional men no doubt
there are, whose character impels them to seek power; a character
more dangerous than useful, unless there be sufficient wisdom in the
social body to turn it to good account. The best workmen, like the
best philosophers, will soon cease to feel envy for greatness, laden,
as it always must be, with heavy responsibilities. At present, the
compensation which I hold out to them has not been realized; but when
it exists, the people will feel that their spiritual and temporal
leaders are combining all the energies of society for the satisfaction
of their wants. Recognizing this, they will care but little for fame
that must be bought by long and tedious meditation, or for power
burdened with constant care. There are men whose talents call them to
these important duties, and they will be left free to perform them;
but the great mass of society will be well satisfied that their own
lot is one far more in keeping with the constitution of our nature;
more compatible with that harmonious exercise of the faculties of
Thought, Feeling, and Action, which is most conducive to happiness.
The immediate pressure of poverty once removed, the highest reward of
honourable conduct will be found in the permanent esteem, posthumous as
it may be sometimes, of that portion of Humanity which has witnessed
it. In a word the title, _servus servorum_, which is still retained by
the Papacy from false humility, but which originated in anticipation of
a social truth, is applicable to all functionaries in high position.
They may be described as the involuntary servants of voluntary
subordinates. It is not chimerical to conceive Positivist society
so organized that its theoretical and practical directors, with all
their personal advantages, will often regret that they were not born,
or that they did not remain, in the condition of workmen. The only
solid satisfaction which great minds have hitherto found in political
or spiritual power has been that, being more occupied with public
interests, they had a wider scope for the exercise of social feeling.
But the excellence of the future condition of society will be, that the
possibility of combining public and private life will be open to all.
The humblest citizen will be able to influence not by command but by
counsel, in proportion to his energy and worth.

All the views brought forward in this chapter bear out the statement
with which it began, that the Proletariate forms the principal basis
of the social system, not merely as finally constituted, but in its
present state of transition; and admitting this, the present state will
be seen to have no essential difference from the normal future to which
it tends. The principal conditions of our transitional policy were
described at the conclusion of the last chapter. The security for these
conditions is to be found in the natural tendencies of the people of
Western Europe, and especially of France. Our governors will do well to
follow these tendencies instead of attempting to lead them; for they
are in perfect keeping with the two great requirements of the present
time, Liberty and Public Order.

 [The working classes are the
 best guarantee for Liberty
 and for Order]

Liberty of thought and speech is enjoyed in France, and especially in
Paris, to an extent impossible in any other country, and it is due
principally to the intellectual emancipation of our workmen. They have
rid themselves of theology in all its forms, and yet have not accepted
any metaphysical system. At the same time, though totally devoid at
present of systematic convictions, there is in them a submissiveness of
mind which predisposes them to receive convictions combining reality
with utility. In all other classes there is a tendency to use forcible
measures in spreading their doctrines when discussion fails. It is
only to the people that philosophers can look for the support and
extension of Liberty, which is so essential to their objects; and from
this they derive moral confidence far more reassuring than any legal
security. However reactionary or stationary the views of particular
leaders or sects may be, with such a population as that of Paris, no
real oppression is possible. Of all the claims which France has to the
leadership of Europe, this is the strongest. The resistance which is
still offered to freedom of association and freedom of education will
soon be overcome by the force of its liberal sympathies. A population
of such strong social feeling as ours will certainly not allow itself
to be permanently deprived of the power of meeting together freely
in clubs; institutions most conducive both to its culture and to
the protection of its interests. It will insist with equal force
upon perfect liberty of teaching, feeling deeply the need of solid
instruction, and the incapacity of metaphysicians and theologians
to give it. Without popular pressure, the essential conditions of
educational liberty will always be evaded.

And if Liberty depends upon popular support, Public Order, whether
at home or abroad, depends upon it no less. The inclinations of the
working classes are altogether on the side of peace. Their strong
dislike of war is the principal reason of the present remarkable
tranquillity of Europe. The foolish regret expressed by all the
retrograde parties for the decline of the military spirit is a
sufficient indication of what the popular feeling is; but even more
significant is the necessity for compulsory enlistment, which began
in France and has extended to other parts of Europe. There has been
much factitious indignation on the subject, but at least it must be
allowed, that in our armies the officers are the only volunteers.
Again, the working class is more free than any other from international
prejudices, which still disunite the great family of Western nations,
although they are very much weaker than formerly. They are strongest in
the middle classes, a fact principally due to industrial competition.
But working men feel how similar their wants and their conditions
are in all countries, and this feeling checks their animosity. And
the consciousness of union will become far stronger, now that the
great social problem of their incorporation into modern society is
being raised everywhere. No errors that statesmen can commit, whether
in matters of war or peace, can prevent this from becoming the
preponderating question in every European country; and thus it tends to
preserve their mutual concord.

Popular sympathies of this sort are, it may be said, less conducive
to internal tranquillity than to pacific foreign relations. But the
alarm which is naturally aroused by the spiritual anarchy around us
must not blind us to the real guarantees for Order which popular
tendencies, rightly interpreted, hold out. It is to the people that
we must look for the ascendancy of central over local power, which,
as we have seen, is so indispensable to public order. The executive
authority, provided only that it gives no cause to fear reaction, will
always have their support when opposed by an assembly the prevalent
tendencies of which will usually be adverse to their interests. They
will always turn instinctively to the dictatorial rather than to the
parliamentary branch of the administration; feeling that from its
practical character and the directness of its action, it is more likely
to meet their wants. Useless discussions on constitutional questions
may suit ambitious members of the middle classes, by facilitating their
arrival to power. But the people take very little interest in all this
unmeaning agitation, and often treat it with merited contempt. They
know that it can be of no use to them, and that its only result is
to evade their real wants by undermining the only authority that can
do them justice. Consequently the people are certain to give their
support to every government that deserves it; especially in France,
where political passions have already yielded to the superior and more
permanent interest of social questions. And while strengthening the
government they may do much to elevate its character; by confining
it strictly to its practical function, and resisting any attempts
that it may make to interfere with opinion. In all these respects
the spontaneous influence of the working classes will be of material
assistance in carrying out the systematic conceptions of social
philosophy.

 [It is from them that we
 shall obtain the dictatorial
 power which is provisionally
 required]

But a more striking proof of the political influence to be exercised
by the people is this. The dictatorship which our transitional policy
requires as long as the spiritual interregnum lasts must arise in the
first instance from their ranks.

In the word _People_, especially in the French language, there is a
fortunate ambiguity, which may serve to remind us that the proletariate
class is not, properly speaking, a class at all, but constitutes the
body of society. From it proceed the various special classes, which we
may regard as organs necessary to that body. Since the abolition of
royalty, the last remnant of caste, our political leaders have been
recruited, and will continue to be so, from the working class. In the
normal state, however, it will be required as a preliminary condition,
that the holder of dictatorial power shall have first received the
political training which is given by the exercise of authority in his
own business. In a settled state of society, Government, strictly so
called, is a mere extension of civil influence. Ultimately, therefore,
political power will fall into the hands of the great leaders of
industry. As spiritual reorganization proceeds, they will gradually
become more worthy of it than they are at present. Besides, the tenure
of power will become less burdensome, because it will be confined to
duties of a purely practical kind.

As yet, however, the case is very different; and therefore the
wealthy, though ultimately they will be the administrators of power,
are not those to whom it should as a rule be entrusted in our present
condition. Special departments may be given to them with advantage, as
we have seen proved recently, and that in cases where the functions to
be performed had no relation whatever to industrial skill. But they
are not competent as yet for dictatorial power, the power which has to
supply the place of royalty. Individual exceptions, of course, there
may be, though none have appeared hitherto, and at least they are
not enough for our provisional system to rely on. As yet the wealthy
classes have shown themselves too debased in thought and feeling for
an office of such importance. Nor do we find greater aptitude for
it outside the industrial class. Scientific men are most assuredly
unfit for it, especially in France, where the system of Academies has
narrowed the mind, withered the feelings, and enervated the character
to such an extent, that most of them fail in the conduct of common
life, and are utterly unworthy of the smallest post of authority, even
in their own department.

All other classes failing us, we have to look to the working class,
which has been left more free to form broad views, and in which the
sense of duty has been better cultivated. On historical grounds I
feel convinced that the workmen of France are more likely than any
other class to supply men competent for supreme power, as long as the
spiritual interregnum lasts; that is, for at least one generation.

On looking at this question calmly and without scholastic or
aristocratic prejudice, it will be seen, as I pointed out at the
beginning of this chapter, that the working class is better situated
than any other with respect to generality of views and generosity of
feeling. In knowledge and experience of administration they would
ordinarily be deficient; they would therefore not be fit for the
work of any special department. But this is no disqualification for
the supreme power, or indeed for any of the higher offices for which
breadth of view rather than special knowledge is required. These may be
filled by working men, whose good sense and modesty will at once lead
them to choose their agents for special departments from the classes
who have usually furnished them before. The practical character and
progressive spirit of such a government being beyond suspicion, special
talent of whatever kind may be made available, even in the case of men
who, if they had been placed in a higher position, would have proved
thoroughly hostile to republican institutions. Of all the diversified
elements of modern society, there is not one which may not be of real
service in assisting the transition. Among soldiers and magistrates,
for instance, there are many who will join the popular movement, and
become sincere supporters of republicanism. A government of this kind
would tranquillize the people, would obviate the necessity for violent
compressive measures, and would at the same time have a most beneficial
influence on the capitalist class. It would show them the necessity of
attaining to greater purity of feeling and greater breadth of view, if
they are to become worthy of the position for which they are ultimately
destined.

Thus, whether we look at the interests of Public Order, or at those
of Liberty, it appears necessary as a provisional measure, during
the continuance of our spiritual interregnum, that the holders
of dictatorial power shall be chosen from the working class. The
success of a few working men in the pursuit of wealth has exercised
an unsettling influence on the rest; but in the present instance we
need not fear this result. It will be obvious that the career of a
proletary governor is a rare exception, and one which requires peculiar
endowments.

In examining the mode in which this anomalous policy should be carried
out, we must bear in mind the object with which it was instituted.
It is most important to get rid of the custom, based on motives
of self-interest, which has grown up during the last generation,
of insisting on parliamentary experience as an apprenticeship for
executive power; executive power being always the real object of
ambition. We have found from experience what we might have anticipated
on theoretical grounds, that this plan excludes all except mere
talkers of the Girondin type, men totally devoid of statesman-like
qualities. To working men it offers almost insurmountable obstacles;
and even supposing these obstacles to be overcome, we may be sure
that they would lose the straightforwardness and native vigour which
constitute their best claim to the exceptional position proposed for
them.

It is best, then, that they should reach the position assigned to them
at once, without the circuitous process of a parliamentary career.
Our transition towards the normal state will then exhibit its true
character. It will be tranquil and yet decisive; for it will rest on
the combined action of philosophers without political ambition, and
dictators adverse to spiritual encroachment. The teacher who attempts
to govern, the governor who attempts to educate, will both incur severe
public censure, as enemies alike of peace and progress. The whole
result will be a change in our revolutionary condition identical with
that which the Convention would have realized, if, as its founders
contemplated, it had lasted till the Peace.

Such, then, is the nature of the compact into which all true
philosophers should enter with the leading members of the proletary
class. Their object is to direct the organic and final phase through
which the Great Revolution is now passing. What they have to do is
carefully to prolong the provisional system adopted by the Convention,
and to ignore, as far as possible, the traditions of all succeeding
governments, whether stationary or retrograde. Comprehensiveness of
view and social sympathy predominate alike in both members of this
great alliance; and it is thus a guarantee for our present state of
transition, and a sure earnest of the normal future. The people are
the spontaneous representatives of this alliance; the philosophers
its systematic organ. The intellectual deficiencies of the former will
easily be remedied by philosophers, who will show them how essential
it is on social grounds that they should understand the true meaning
of history; since otherwise their conception of the union of mankind
must be limited to the present generation, ignoring the more important
truth of the continuity of the Present with the Past and the Future. A
far greater obstacle is the moral deficiency of most philosophers of
our time. But the wholesome influence of the people upon them, combined
with a deep philosophic conviction of the preponderance of Feeling
in every subject of thought, will do much to overcome the ambitious
instincts which weaken and distract their energies in the common cause
of social renovation.

CHAPTER IV

THE INFLUENCE OF POSITIVISM UPON WOMEN

 [Women represent the
 affective element in our
 nature, as philosophers
 and people represent the
 intellectual and practical
 elements]

In their action, then, upon society, philosophers may hope for the
energetic support of the working classes. But the regenerating movement
requires still the co-operation of a third element, an element
indicated by our analysis of human nature, and suggested also by
historical study of the great crisis of modern times.

The moral constitution of man consists of something more than Intellect
and Activity. These are represented in the constitution of society by
the philosophic body and the proletariate. But besides these there is
Feeling, which, in the theory put forward in the first chapter of this
work, was shown to be the predominating principle, the motive power
of our being, the only basis on which the various parts of our nature
can be brought into unity. Now the alliance between philosophers and
working men, which has been just described, however perfectly it may
be realized, does not represent the element of Feeling with sufficient
distinctness and prominence.

Certainly without Social Feeling, neither philosophers nor proletaries
can exercise any real influence. But in their case its source is not
sufficiently pure nor deep to sustain them in the performance of their
duty. A more spontaneous and more perennial spring of inspiration must
be found.

With the philosopher social sympathies will never be wanting in
coherence, since they will be connected with his whole system of
thought; but this very scientific character will deaden their vigour,
unless they are revived by impulses in which reflection has no share.
Roused as he will be by the consciousness of public duty to a degree
of activity of which abstract thinkers can form no conception, the
emotions of private life will yet be not less necessary for him than
for others. Intercourse with the working classes will be of the
greatest benefit to him; but even this is not enough to compensate the
defects of a life devoted to speculation.

The sympathies of the people again, though stronger and more
spontaneous than those of the philosopher, are, in most cases, less
pure and not so lasting. From the pressure of daily necessities it is
difficult for them to maintain the same consistent and disinterested
character. Great as are the moral advantages which will result from
the incorporation of the people in modern society, they are not enough
by themselves to outweigh the force of self-interest aroused by the
precarious nature of their position. Emotions of a gentler and less
transient kind must be called into play. Philosophers may relieve the
working classes from the necessity of pressing their own claims and
grievances; but the fact still remains, that the instincts by which
those claims are prompted are personal rather than social.

Thus, in the alliance which has been here proposed as necessary
for social reorganization, Feeling, the most influential part of
human nature, has not been adequately represented. An element is
wanting which shall have the same relation to the moral side of our
constitution, as the philosophic body has with Intellect, and the
people with Activity. On this, as well as on other grounds, it is
indispensable that Women be associated in the work of regeneration
as soon as its tendencies and conditions can be explained to them.
With the addition of this third element, the constructive movement at
last assumes its true character. We may then feel confident that our
intellectual and practical faculties will be kept in due subordination
to universal Love. The digressions of intellect, and the subversive
tendencies of our active powers will be as far as possible prevented.

 [Women have stood aloof from
 the modern movement, because
 of its anti-historic and
 destructive character]

Indispensable to Positivism as the co-operation of women is, it
involves one essential condition. Modern progress must rise above its
present imperfect character, before women can thoroughly sympathize
with it.

At present the general feeling amongst them is antipathy to the
Revolution. They dislike the destructive character which the Revolution
necessarily exhibited in its first phase. All their social sympathies
are given to the Middle Ages. And this is not merely due, as is
supposed, to the regret which they very naturally feel for the decline
of chivalry, although they cannot but feel that the Middle Ages are
the only period in which the feeling of reverence for women has been
properly cultivated. But the real ground of their predilection is
deeper and less interested. It is that, being morally the purest
portion of Humanity, they venerate Catholicism, as the only system
which has upheld the principle of subordinating Politics to Morals.
This, I cannot doubt, is the secret cause of most of the regret with
which women still regard the irrevocable decay of mediaeval society.

They do not disregard the progress which modern times have made in
various special directions. But our erroneous tendencies towards
bringing back the old supremacy of Politics over Morality, are, in
their eyes, a retrograde movement so comprehensive in its character
that no partial improvements can compensate for it. True, we are
able to justify this deviation provisionally, since the decay of
Catholicism renders political dictatorship necessary. But women, having
comparatively little to do with the practical business of life, can
hardly appreciate this necessity without a more satisfactory theory
of history than they at present possess. It is a complete mistake
to charge women with being retrograde on account of these feelings
of regret which are most honourable to them. They might retort the
charge with far better reason on the revolutionists, for their blind
admiration of Greek and Roman society, which they still persist in
asserting to be superior to Catholic Feudalism; a delusion, the
continuance of which is principally due to our absurd system of
classical education, from which women are fortunately preserved.

However this may be, the feelings of women upon these subjects are a
very plain and simple demonstration of the first condition of social
regeneration, which is, that Politics must again be subordinated to
Morality; and this upon a more intelligible, more comprehensive, and
more permanent basis than Catholicism could supply. A system which
supplied such a basis would naturally involve reverence for women as
one of its characteristic results. Such, then, are the terms on which
women will cordially co-operate in the progressive movement. Nothing
but incapacity to satisfy these terms could induce any thinkers to
condemn the conception as retrograde.

It is not, then, to the Revolution itself that women feel antipathy,
but to the anti-historic spirit which prevailed in its first phase.
The blind abuse lavished on the Middle Ages wounds their strongest
sympathies. They care little for metaphysical theories of society in
which human happiness is made to consist in a continual exercise of
political rights; for political rights, however attractively presented,
will always fail to interest them. But they give their cordial sympathy
to all reasonable claims of the people; and these claims form the real
object of the revolutionary crisis. They will wish all success to
philosophers and workmen when they see them endeavouring to transform
political disputes into social compacts, and proving that they have
greater regard for duties than for rights. If they regret the decline
of the gentle influence which they possessed in former times, it is
principally because they find it superseded by coarse and egotistic
feelings, which are now no longer counterbalanced by revolutionary
enthusiasm. Instead of blaming their antipathies, we should learn
from them the urgent necessity of putting an end to the moral and
intellectual anarchy of our times; for this it is which gives a ground
of real justice to their reproaches.

 [But they will sympathize
 with constructive
 tendencies; and will
 distinguish sound philosophy
 from scientific specialities]

Women will gladly associate themselves with the Revolution as soon as
its work of reconstruction is fairly begun. Its negative phase must not
be prolonged too far. It is difficult enough for them to understand how
such a phase could ever be necessary; therefore they cannot be expected
to excuse its aberrations. The true connexion of the Revolution
with the Middle Ages must be fairly stated. History, when rightly
interpreted, will show them that its real object is, while laying
down a surer basis for Morality, to restore it to the old position of
superiority over Politics in which the mediaeval system first placed
it. Women will feel enthusiasm for the second phase of the Revolution,
when they see republicanism in the light in which Positivism presents
it, modified by the spirit of ancient chivalry.

Then, and not till then, will the movement of social regeneration be
fairly begun. The movement can have no great force until women give
cordial support to it; for it is they who are the best representatives
of the fundamental principle on which Positivism rests, the victory
of social over selfish affections. On philosophers rests the duty
of giving logical coherence to this principle, and saving it from
sophistical attacks. Its practical working depends upon the proletary
class, without whose aid it would almost always be evaded. But to
maintain it in all its purity, as an inspiration that needs neither
argument nor compulsion, is the work of women only. So constituted, the
alliance of the three classes will be the foreshadowed image of the
normal state to which Humanity is tending. It will be the living type
of perfect human nature.

Unless the new philosophy can obtain the support of women, the attempt
to substitute it for theology in the regulation of social life had
better be abandoned. But if the theory stated in my first chapter be
true, Positivism will have even greater influence with women than with
the working classes. In the principle which animates it, in its manner
of regarding and of handling the great problem of human life, it is but
a systematic development of what women have always felt instinctively.
To them, as to the people, it offers a noble career of social
usefulness, and it holds out a sure prospect of improvement in their
own personal position.

Nor is it surprising that the new philosophy should possess such
qualities. They follow naturally from the reality which is one of its
chief claims to acceptance; in other words, from the exactness with
which it takes account of the facts of every subject that it deals
with. Strong as the prejudices of women are upon religious questions,
it cannot be long before they find out that Positivism satisfies, not
merely their intellectual, but their moral and social wants better than
Catholicism. They will then have no further reason for clinging to
the old system, of the decayed condition of which they are perfectly
aware. At present they not unnaturally confound Positivism with the
scientific specialities on which it is based. Scientific studies have,
as they see, a hardening influence, which they cannot suppose that the
new school of philosophers, who insist so strongly upon the necessity
of studying science, can have escaped. Closer acquaintance with the
subject will show them where their error lies. They will see that the
moral danger of scientific studies arises almost entirely from want of
purpose and from irrational speciality, which always alienate them from
the social point of view. But for the Positivist this danger does not
exist; since, however far he may carry these preliminary studies, he
does so simply in order to gain a stronger grasp of social questions.
His one object is to concentrate all the powers of Man upon the general
advancement of the race. And so long as this object be kept in view,
women’s good sense will readily distinguish between the training
necessary for it, and the puerilities of the learned societies. The
general spirit of this work, however, makes further explanation
unnecessary.

 [Women’s position in
 society. Like philosophers
 and people, their part is
 not to govern, but to modify]

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
impersonation of Humanity, who can never be adequately represented in
any masculine form. But these qualities do not involve the possession
of political power, which some visionaries have claimed for women,
though without their own consent. In that which is the great object
of human life, they are superior to men; but in the various means of
attaining that object they are undoubtedly inferior. In all kinds of
force, whether physical, intellectual, or practical, it is certain that
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, Women would be supreme. But life is surrounded
with difficulties, 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 goodwill, although this last 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 superiority in
strength of feeling, they endeavour to assert their influence in a 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, not to the most affectionate, even
though the latter may deserve it best. With all their efforts they can
never do more than modify the harshness with which men exercise their
authority. And men submit more readily to this modifying influence,
from feeling that in the highest attributes 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 society that women’s life is essentially
domestic, public life being confined to men. Civilization, so far from
effacing this natural distinction, tends, as I shall afterwards show,
to develop it, while remedying its abuses.

Thus the social position of women is in this respect very similar to
that of philosophers and of the working classes. And we now see why
these three elements should be united. It is their combined action
which constitutes the moral or modifying force of society.

Philosophers are excluded from political power by the same fatality
as women, although they are apt to think that their intellectual
eminence gives them a claim to it. Were our material wants more easily
satisfied, the influence of intellect would be less impeded than it is
by the practical business of life. But, on this hypothesis, women would
have a better claim to govern than philosophers. For the reasoning
faculties would have remained almost inert had they not been needed to
guide our energies; the constitution of the brain not being such as to
favour their spontaneous development. Whereas the affective principle
is dependent on no such external stimulus for its activity. A life of
thought is a more evident disqualification for the government of the
world even than a life of feeling, although the pride of philosophers
is a greater obstacle to submission than the vanity of women. With all
its pretensions, intellectual force is not in itself more moral than
material force. Each is but an instrument; the merit depends entirely
upon its right employment. The only element of our nature which is
in itself moral is Love; for Love alone tends of itself towards the
preponderance of social feeling over self-interest. And since even Love
cannot govern, what can be the claim of Intellect? In practical life
precedence must always depend upon superior energy. Reason, even more
than Feeling, must be restricted to the task of modifying. Philosophers
therefore must be excluded from government, at least as rigidly as
women. It is in vain for intellect to attempt to command; it never
can do more than modify. In fact, the morality which it indirectly
possesses is due to this impossibility of exercising compulsory
power, and would be ruined by the attainment of it, supposing it were
possible. Intellect may do much to amend the natural order of things,
provided that it does not attempt to subvert it. What it can do is by
its power of systematic arrangement to effect the union of all the
classes who are likely to exert a beneficial influence on material
power. It is with this view that every spiritual power has availed
itself of the aid of women, as we see was the case in the Middle Ages.

Proceeding with our sociological analysis of moral force, we shall find
an equally striking resemblance between the influence of Women and that
exercised by the People.

In the first stage of progress, there is no modifying power except what
springs from Feeling; afterwards Intellect combines with it, finding
itself unable to govern. The only element now wanting is Activity; and
this want, which is indispensable, is supplied by the co-operation of
the people. The fact is, that although the people constitute the basis
on which all political power rests, yet they have as little to do
directly with the administration of power as philosophers or women.

Power, in the strict sense of the word, power, that is, which controls
action without persuading the will, has two perfectly distinct sources,
numbers and wealth. The force of numbers is usually considered the more
material of the two; but in reality it is the more moral. Being created
by co-operation, it involves some convergence of ideas and feelings,
and therefore it does not give such free scope for the self-regarding
instincts as the more concentrated power of wealth. But for this very
reason, it is too indirect and precarious for the ordinary purposes
of government. It can influence government morally, but cannot take
an active part in it. The same causes which exclude philosophers and
women apply in the case of the people. Our material necessities are so
urgent, that those who have the means of providing for them will always
be the possessors of power. Now the wealthy have these means; they
hold in their hands the products of labour, by which each generation
facilitates the existence and prepares the operations of its successor.
Consequently the power of the capitalist is one of so concentrated a
kind, that numbers can very seldom resist it successfully. Even in
military nations we find the same thing; the influence of numbers,
though more direct, affects only the mode of acquiring wealth, not
its tenure. But in industrial states, where wealth is acquired by
other ways than violence, the law is evident. And with the advance
of civilization it will operate not less, but more strongly. Capital
is ever on the increase, and consequently is ever creating means of
subsistence for those who possess nothing. In this sense, but in no
other, the cynical maxim of Antiquity, _Paucis nascitur humanum genus_,
will always bear a true meaning. The few provide subsistence for the
many. We come back, then, to the conclusion of the last chapter; that
the working classes are not destined for political power, but that they
tend to become a most important source of moral power. The moral value
of their influence is even more indirect than that of philosophers,
and depends even more in their case upon subordination politically.
In the few cases where government passes for a time into the hands
of the masses, wealth in its turn assumes a sort of moral influence
foreign to its nature. It moderates the violence with which government
is apt to be administered in such cases. The high intellectual and
moral qualities belonging to the working classes are, as we have seen,
in great part due to their social position. They would be seriously
impaired if the political authority that belongs to wealth were
habitually transferred to numbers.

 [The united action of
 philosophers, women, and
 proletaries constitutes
 Moral Force]

Such, in outline, is the Positive theory of Moral Force. By it the
despotism of material force may be in part controlled. It rests upon
the union of the three elements in society who are excluded from the
sphere of politics strictly so called. In their combined action lies
our principal hope of solving, so far as it can be solved, the great
problem of man’s nature, the successful struggle of Social Feeling
against Self-love. Each of the three elements supplies a quality
indispensable to the task. Without women this controlling power would
be deficient in purity and spontaneous impulse; without philosophers,
in wisdom and coherence; without the people, in energy and activity.
The philosophic element, although neither the most direct nor the most
efficient, is yet the distinctive feature of this power, because its
function is to organize its constitution and direct its operations in
accordance with the true laws of social life. As being the systematic
organ of the spiritual power it has become identified with it in
name. This, however, may lead to an erroneous conception. The moral
aspect of the spiritual power is more important than the intellectual.
While retaining the name as an historical tradition of real value,
Positivists attach a somewhat different meaning to it. It originated in
a time when theories of society were unknown, and when Intellect was
considered as the central principle of human nature.

Spiritual power, as interpreted by Positivism, begins with the
influence of women in the family; it is afterwards moulded into a
system by thinkers, while the people are the guarantees for its
political efficiency. Although it is the intellectual class that
institutes the union, yet its own part in it, as it should never
forget, is less direct than that of women, less practical than that of
the people. The thinker is socially powerless except so far as he is
supported by feminine sympathy and popular energy.

Thus the necessity of associating women in the movement of social
regeneration creates no obstacle whatever to the philosophy by which
that movement is to be directed. On the contrary, it aids its progress,
by showing the true character of the moral force which is destined
to control all the other forces of man. It involves as perfect an
inauguration of the normal state as our times of transition admit.
For the chief characteristic of that state will be a more complete
and more harmonious union of the same three classes to whom we are
now looking for the first impulse of reform. Already we can see how
perfectly adapted to the constitution of man this final condition of
Humanity will be. Feeling, Reason, Activity, whether viewed separately
or in combination, correspond exactly to the three elements of the
regenerative movement, Women, Philosophers, and People.

Verification of this theory may be found more or less distinctly in
every period of history. Each of the three classes referred to have
always borne out the biological law that the life of relation or animal
life, is subordinated to the life of nutrition. Still more striking is
the application to this case of another general principle, namely, that
Progress is the development of Order; a principle which, as I showed in
the second chapter, connects every dynamical question in Sociology with
the corresponding statical conception. For with the growth of society,
the modifying influence of moral force is always increasing, both by
larger scope being given to each of its three elements specially, and
also by the more perfect consolidation of their union. Robertson has
made an important remark on the gradual improvement in the condition
of women, which is but a particular case of this sociological law.
The general principle on which progress in all three classes depends,
is the biological law, that the preponderance of vegetable life over
animal life diminishes as the organism is higher in the scale and is
more perfectly developed.

During the various phases of ancient Polytheism, the controlling
power consisted simply of the moral influence exerted by women in the
Family. In public life the influence of thinkers had not made itself
independent of the governmental authority, of which it was sometimes
the source, sometimes the instrument. Mediaeval Catholicism went a
step further, and took the first step in systematizing moral force.
It created an independent spiritual authority to which political
governments were subordinated, and this authority was always supported
by women. But the complete organization of moral force was reserved
for modern times. It is only recently that the working classes have
begun to interfere actively in social questions; and, as I have shown
in the preceding chapter, it is from their co-operation that the
new spiritual power will derive its practical efficiency. Limited
originally to the sphere of Feeling, and subsequently extended to the
intellectual sphere, it henceforward embraces the sphere of Activity;
and this without losing its spiritual character, since the influences
of which it consists are entirely distinct from the domain of practical
politics. Each of its three elements persuades, advises, judges;
but except in isolated cases, never commands. The social mission of
Positivism is to regulate and combine their spontaneous action, by
directing each to the objects for which it is best adapted.

And this mission, in spite of strong prejudices to the contrary, it
will be found well calculated to fulfil. I have already shown its
adaptation to the case of the people and of the philosophic body,
whether regarded separately or in combination: I have now to show that
it is equally adapted to the case of women.

In proof of this I have but to refer to the principle on which, as
stated in the first chapter, the whole system of Positivism is based;
the preponderance of affection in our nature. Such a principle is of
itself an appeal to women to associate themselves with the system, as
one of its essential elements. In Catholicism, their co-operation,
though valuable, was not of primary importance, because Catholicism
claimed a divine origin independent of their assistance. But to
Positivism they are indispensable, as being the purest and simplest
embodiment of its fundamental principle. It is not merely in the Family
that their influence will be required. Their duty will often be to call
philosophers and people back to that unity of purpose which originated
in the first place with themselves, and which each of the other
elements is often disposed to violate.

All true philosophers will no doubt accept and be profoundly influenced
by the conviction, that in all subjects of thought the social point
of view should be logically and scientifically preponderant. They
will consequently admit the truth that the Heart takes precedence
of the Understanding. Still they require some more direct incentive
to universal Love than these convictions can supply. Knowing, as
they do, how slight is the practical result of purely intellectual
considerations, they will welcome so precious an incentive, were it
only in the interest of their own mission. I recognized its necessity
myself, when I wrote on the 11th of March, 1846, to her who, in
spite of death, will always remain my constant companion[7]: ‘I was
incomplete as a philosopher, until the experience of deep and pure
passion has given me fuller insight into the emotional side of human
nature’. Strong affection exercises a marvellous influence upon mental
effort. It elevates the intellect at once to the only point of view
which is really universal. Doubtless, the method of pure science leads
up to it also; but only by a long and toilsome process, which exhausts
the power of thought, and leaves little energy for following out the
new results to which this great principle gives rise. The stimulation
of affection under feminine influence is necessary, therefore, for
the acceptance of Positivism, not merely in those classes for whom a
long preliminary course of scientific study would be impossible. It
is equally necessary for the systematic teachers of Positivism, in
whom it checks the tendency, which is encouraged by habits of abstract
speculation, to deviate into useless digressions; these being always
easier to prosecute than researches of real value.

 [Superiority of the new
 spiritual power to the old.
 Self-regarding tendencies of
 Catholic doctrine]

Under this aspect the new spiritual system is obviously superior to
the old. By the institution of celibacy, which was indispensable to
Catholicism, its priests were entirely removed from the beneficial
influence exercised by women. Only those could profit from it who
did not belong to the ecclesiastical body; the members of that body,
as Ariosto has remarked in his vigorous satire, were excluded. Nor
could the evil be remedied, except in very rare cases, by irregular
attachment, which inevitably corrupted the priest’s character by
involving the necessity of perpetual hypocrisy.

And when we look at the difference of the spirit by which the two
systems are pervaded, we shall find still more striking evidence that
the new system offers a far larger sphere of moral influence to women
than the old.

Both are based upon the principle of affection; but in Positivism the
affection inculcated is social, in Catholicism it is essentially
personal. The object of Catholic devotion is one of such stupendous
magnitude, that feelings which are unconnected with it are in danger
of being crushed. The priesthood, it is true, wise interpreters in
this respect of a general instinct, brought all the more important
social obligations within the compass of religion, and held them out
as necessary for salvation. Indirectly, the nobler feelings were
thus called into action; but at the same time they were rendered far
less spontaneous and pure. There could be no perfectly disinterested
affection under a system which promised eternal rewards for all acts
of self-denial. For it was impossible, and indeed it would have
been thought sinful, to keep the future out of sight; and thus all
spontaneous generosity was unavoidably tainted by self-interest.
Catholicism gave rise to an ignoble theory of morals which became very
mischievous when it was adopted by the metaphysicians; because, while
retaining the vicious principle, they swept away the checks by which
the priesthood had controlled it. But even when we look at the purest
form in which the love of God was exhibited, we cannot call it a social
feeling, except in so far as the same object of worship was held out
simultaneously to all. Intrinsically, it is anti-social, since, when
attained in absolute perfection, it implies the entire sacrifice of
all other love. And in the best representatives of Christian thought
and feeling, this tendency is very apparent. No one has portrayed the
Catholic ideal with such sublimity and pathos as the author of the
_Imitation_, a work which so well deserved the beautiful translation of
Corneille. And yet, reading it as I do daily, I cannot help remarking
how grievously the natural nobleness of Thomas A’Kempis was impaired by
the Catholic system, although in spite of all obstacles he rises at
times to the purest ardour. Certainly those of our feelings which are
purely unselfish must be far stronger and more spontaneous than ever
has yet been supposed, since even the oppressive discipline of twelve
centuries could not prevent their growth.

 [The spirit of Positivism,
 on the contrary, is
 essentially social. The
 Heart and the Intellect
 mutually strengthen each
 other]

Positivism, from the fact of its conformity with the constitution of
our nature, is the only system calculated to develop, both in public
and in private life, those high attributes of Humanity which, for want
of adequate systematic culture, are still in their rudimentary stage.
Catholicism, while appealing to the Heart, crushed Intellect, and
Intellect naturally struggled to throw off the yoke. Positivism, on the
contrary, brings Reason into complete harmony with Feeling, without
impairing the activity of either.

Scientific study of the relation which each individual bears to the
whole race is a continual stimulus to social sympathy. Without a
theory of society, it is impossible to keep this relation distinctly
and constantly in view. It is only noticed in a few exceptional cases,
and unconnected impressions are soon effaced from the memory. But the
Positivist teacher, taking the social point of view invariably, will
make this notion far more familiar to us than it has ever been before.
He will show us the impossibility of understanding any individual
or society apart from the whole life of the race. Nothing but the
bewilderment caused by theological and metaphysical doctrines can
account for the shallow explanations of human affairs given by our
teachers, attributing as they do to Man what is really due to Humanity.
But with the sounder theory that we now possess, we can see the truth
as it really stands. We have but to look each of us at our own life
under its physical, intellectual, or moral aspects, to recognize what
it is that we owe to the combined action of our predecessors and
contemporaries. The man who dares to think himself independent of
others, either in feelings, thoughts, or actions, cannot even put the
blasphemous conception into words without immediate self-contradiction,
since the very language he uses is not his own. The profoundest
thinker cannot by himself form the simplest language; it requires the
co-operation of a community for several generations. Without further
illustration, the tendency of Positive doctrine is evident. It appeals
systematically to our social instincts, by constantly impressing
upon us that only the Whole is real; that the Parts exist only in
abstraction.

But independently of the beneficial influence which, in this final
state of Humanity, the mind will exercise upon the heart, the direct
culture of the heart itself will be more pure and more vigorous than
under any former system. It offers us the only means of disengaging
our benevolent affections from all calculations of self-interest. As
far as the imperfection of man’s nature admits, these affections will
gradually become supreme, since they give deeper satisfaction than all
others, and are capable of fuller development. Setting the rewards and
punishments of theology aside, we shall attain at last to that which is
the real happiness of man, pure and disinterested love. This is truly
the Sovereign Good, sought for so long by former systems of philosophy
in vain. That it surpasses all other good one fact will show, known to
the tender-hearted from personal experience; that it is even better to
love than to be loved. Overstrained as this may seem to many, it is yet
in harmony with a general truth, that our nature is in a healthier
state when active than when passive. In the happiness of being loved,
there is always some tinge of self-love; it is impossible not to feel
pride in the love of one whom we prefer to all others. Since, then,
loving gives purer satisfaction than being loved, the superiority
of perfectly disinterested affection is at once demonstrated. It
is the fundamental defect of our nature, that intrinsically these
affections are far weaker than the selfish propensities connected with
the preservation of our own existence. But when they have been once
aroused, even though the original stimulus may have been personal,
they have greater capacity of growth, owing to the peculiar charm
inherent in them. Besides, in the exercise of these feelings, all of
us can co-operate with and encourage one another, whereas the reverse
is the case with the selfish instincts. There is, therefore, nothing
unreasonable in supposing that Positivism, by regulating and combining
these natural tendencies, may rouse our sympathetic instincts to a
condition of permanent activity hitherto unknown. When the heart is
no longer crushed by theological dogmas, or hardened by metaphysical
theories, we soon discover that real happiness, whether public or
private, consists in the highest possible development of the social
instincts. Self-love comes to be regarded as an incurable infirmity,
which is to be yielded to only so far as is absolutely necessary.
Here lies the universal adaptability of Positivism to every type of
character and to all circumstances. In the humblest relations of life,
as in the highest, regenerate Humanity will apply the obvious truth, It
is better to give than to receive.

The Heart thus aroused will in its turn react beneficially upon the
Intellect; and it is especially from women that this reaction will
proceed. I have spoken of it so fully before, that I need not describe
it further. It is in Feeling that I find the basis on which the whole
structure of Positivism, intellectually as well as morally considered,
rests. The only remark I have now to add is, that by following out this
principle, philosophical difficulties of the most formidable kind are
at once surmounted. From moral considerations, the intellect may be
readily induced to submit to scientific restrictions, the propriety of
which would remain for a long time matter of debate, were philosophical
discussions the only means of indicating it. Attempt, for instance,
to convince a pure mathematician, however conscientious and talented,
that Sociology is both logically and scientifically superior to all
other studies. He would not readily admit this; and severe exertion
of the inductive and deductive faculties can alone convince him of
it. But by the aid of Feeling, an artisan or a woman can, without
education, readily grasp this great encyclopædic principle, and apply
it practically to the common affairs of life. But for this, the larger
conceptions of philosophy would have but a limited range, and very
few would be capable of the course of study which is yet so important
on social grounds for all. Comprehensiveness of mind is no doubt
favourable to sympathy, but is itself more actively stimulated by it.
When the Positivist method of education is accepted, moral excellence
will be very generally regarded as a guarantee of real intellectual
capacity. The revolutionist leaders of the Convention showed their
sense of this connexion by allowing, as they did sometimes, republican
ardour to outweigh scientific attainment. Of course, so long as men
remain without a systematic theory of morals, such policy would be
likely to fail of its object, and indeed would become positively
mischievous. But the reproach is usually that it was a retrograde
policy, a reproach far more applicable to the present system, in which
the standard of fitness for any office is regulated exclusively by
intellectual considerations, the heart being altogether disregarded.
Historically we can explain this practice by the fact that the
religious faith in which our moral nature has hitherto been trained
has been of a most oppressive character. Ever since the Middle Ages,
the intellect and the heart have been unavoidably at issue. Positivism
is the only system which can put an end to their antagonism, because,
as I have before explained, while subordinating Reason to Feeling, it
does so in such a way as not to impair the development of either. With
its present untenable claims to supremacy, Intellect is in reality the
principal source of social discord. Until it abdicates in favour of
the Heart, it can never be of real service in reconstruction. But its
abdication will be useless, unless it is entirely voluntary. Now this
is precisely the result which Positivism attains, because it takes
up the very ground on which the claims of intellect are defended,
namely, scientific demonstration, a ground which the defenders of
intellect cannot repudiate without suspicion at once attaching to their
motives. But theological or metaphysical remedies can only exasperate
the disease. By oppressing the intellect they provoke it to fresh
insurrection against the heart.

 [Intellectual and moral
 affinities of women with
 Positivism]

For all these reasons, women, who are better judges of moral questions
than ourselves, will admit that Positivism, incontestably superior
as it is to other systems intellectually, surpasses them yet more
in dealing with the affections. Their only objection arises from
confounding Positive Philosophy itself with its preliminary course of
scientific study.

Women’s minds no doubt are less capable than ours of generalizing
very widely, or of carrying on long processes of deduction. They are,
that is, less capable than men of abstract intellectual exertion. On
the other hand, they are generally more alive to that combination of
reality with utility which is one of the characteristics of Positive
speculation. In this respect they have much in common intellectually
with the working classes; and fortunately they have also the same
advantage of being untrammelled by the present absurd system of
education. Nor is their position far removed from what it should be
normally; being less engaged than men in the business of life, their
contemplative faculties are called into activity more easily. Their
minds are neither preoccupied nor indifferent; the most favourable
condition for the reception of philosophical truth. They have far
more affinity intellectually with philosophers who truly deserve
the name, than we find in the scientific men of the present day.
Comprehensiveness of thought they consider as important as positivity,
whereas our savants care for nothing but the latter quality, and even
that they understand imperfectly. Molière’s remarkable expression,
_des clartés de tout_, which I applied in the last chapter to popular
education, was used by him in reference to women. Accordingly we find
that women took a vivid interest in the very first attempt made to
systematize Positive speculation, the Cartesian philosophy. No more
striking proof could be given of their philosophical affinities; and
the more so that in the Cartesian system moral and social speculations
were necessarily excluded. Surely, then, we may expect them to receive
Positivism far more favourably, a system of which the principal
subject of speculation is the moral problem in which both sexes are
alike interested.

Women, therefore, may, like the people, be counted among the future
supporters of the new philosophy. Without their combined aid it could
never hope to surmount the strong repugnance to it which is felt by our
cultivated classes, especially in France, where the question of its
success has first to be decided.

 [Catholicism purified
 love, but did not directly
 strengthen it]

But when women have sufficient acquaintance with Positivism, to see its
superiority to Catholicism in questions of feeling, they will support
it from moral sympathy even more than from intellectual adhesion. It
will be the heart even more than the mind which will incline them
to the only system of philosophy which has fully recognized the
preponderance of Feeling. They cannot fail to be drawn towards a system
which regards women as the embodiment of this principle; the unity
of human nature, of which this principle is the basis, being thus
entrusted to their special charge. The only reason of their regret
for the past, is that the present fails to satisfy their noblest
social instincts. Not that Catholicism ever really satisfied them;
indeed in its general character it is even less adapted to women than
to men, since the dominant quality of woman’s nature is in direct
contradiction with it. Christianity, notwithstanding its claims to
moral perfection, has always confounded the quality of tenderness with
that of purity. And it is true that love cannot be deep unless it is
also pure. But Catholicism, although it purified love from the animal
propensities which had been stimulated by Polytheism, did nothing
otherwise to strengthen it. It has given us indeed too many instances
of purity, pushed to the extent of fanaticism, without tenderness. And
this result is especially common now, because the austerity of the
Christian spirit is not corrected, as it used to be, by the inspiring
influences of Chivalry. Polytheism, deficient as it was in purity,
was really far more conducive than Christianity, to tenderness. Love
of God, the supreme affection round which Catholicism endeavoured
to concentrate all other feelings, was essentially a self-regarding
principle, and as such conflicted with woman’s noblest instincts. Not
only did it encourage monastic isolation, but if developed to the
full extent, it became inconsistent with love for our fellow men. It
was impiety for the knight to love his Lady better than his God; and
thus the best feelings of his nature were repressed by his religious
faith. Women, therefore, are not really interested in perpetuating
the old system; and the very instincts by which their nature is
characterized, will soon incline them to abandon it. They have only
been waiting until social life should assume a less material character;
so that morality, for the preservation of which they justly consider
themselves responsible, may not be compromised. And on this head
Positivism satisfies their heart no less than their understanding with
all the guarantees that they can require. Based as it is upon accurate
knowledge of our nature, it can combine the simple affectionate spirit
of Polytheism with the exquisite purity of Catholicism, without fear
of taint from the subversive sophisms engendered by the spiritual
anarchy of our times. Not however that purity is to be placed on the
same level with tenderness. Tenderness is the more essential of the
two qualities, because more closely connected with the grand object
of all human effort, the elevation of Social Feeling over Self-love.
In a woman without tenderness there is something even more monstrous
than in a man without courage. Whatever her talents and even her energy
may be, they will in most cases prove mischievous both to herself and
to others, unless indeed they should be nullified by the restraint of
theological discipline. If she has force of character it will be wasted
in a struggle against all legitimate authority; while her mental power
will be employed only in destructive sophisms. Too many cases of this
kind present themselves in the social anarchy of the present time.

Such is the Positivist theory on the subject of Women. It marks out
for them a noble field of social usefulness. It extends the scope
of their influence to public as well as private life, and yet in a
way thoroughly in harmony with their nature. Without leaving the
family, they will participate in the controlling power exercised by
philosophers and workmen, seeking even in their own domestic sphere
rather to modify than to govern. In a word, as I shall show more fully
in the last chapter of this introductory work, Woman is the spontaneous
priestess of Humanity. She personifies in the purest form the principle
of Love upon which the unity of our nature depends; and the culture of
that principle in others is her special function.

 [Women’s influence over the
 working classes and their
 teachers]

All classes, therefore, must be brought under women’s influence; for
all require to be reminded constantly of the great truth that Reason
and Activity are subordinate to Feeling. Of their influence upon
philosophers I have spoken. If they are men worthy of their mission,
they will be conscious of the tendency which their life has to harden
them and lead them into useless speculation; and they will feel the
need of renewing the ardour of their social sympathy at its native
source. Feeling, when it is pure and deep, corrects its own errors,
because they clash with the good to which it is ever tending. But
erroneous use of the intellectual or practical faculties, cannot be
even recognized, much less corrected, without the aid of Affection,
which is the only part of our nature that suffers directly from such
errors. Therefore whenever either the philosopher or the people
deviate from duty, it will be the part of women to remonstrate with
them gently, and recall them to the true social principles which are
entrusted to their special charge.

With the working classes, the special danger to be contended against
is their tendency to abuse their strength, and to resort to force for
the attainment of their objects, instead of persuasion. But this danger
is after all less than that of the misuse of intellectual power to
which philosophers are so liable. Thinkers who try to make reasoning
do the work of feeling can very seldom be convinced of their error.
Popular excitement, on the contrary, has often yielded to feminine
influence, exerted though it has been hitherto without any systematic
guidance. The difference is no doubt partly owing to the fact that
there are now few or none who deserve the name of philosophers. For we
cannot give that name to the superficial sophists and rhetoricians of
our time, whether psychologists or ideologists, men wholly incapable
of deep thought on any subject. Independently of this, however, the
difference is explained by the character of the two classes. Women
will always find it harder to deal with intellectual pride than with
popular violence. Appeals to social feeling are their only weapons;
and the social feelings of the workman are stronger than those of the
philosopher. Sophistry is far more formidable to them than passion. In
fact, were it not that the working classes are even now so amenable
to female influence, society would be in extreme danger from the
disorder caused by intellectual anarchy. There are many sophisms which
maintain themselves in spite of scientific refutation, and which would
be destructive of all order, were it not for our moral instincts. Of
this the Communists offer a striking example, in avoiding, with that
admirable inconsistency to which I have already called attention, the
extension of their principle to the Family. Surrounded by the wildest
theories, such as, if they were put in practice, would utterly destroy
or paralyse society, we see large numbers of working men showing in
their daily life a degree of affection and respect for women, which
is unequalled by any other class. It is well to reflect on facts like
these, not only because they lead us to judge the Communist school with
more justice, but because, occurring as they do in the midst of social
anarchy, they show what powerful agencies for good will be at our
disposal in more settled times. Certainly they cannot be attributed to
theological teaching, which has rather had the effect of strengthening
the errors which it attacks by the absurdity of its refutations. They
are simply the result of the influence which women have spontaneously
exercised on the nobler feelings of the people. In Protestant countries
where their influence is less, the mischievous effects of Communistic
theories have been far greater. We owe it to women that the Family has
been so little injured by the retrograde spirit of those republican
reformers, whose ideal of modern society is to absorb the Family into
the State, as was done by a few small tribes in ancient Greece.

The readiness shown by women in applying practical remedies to
erroneous theories of morality is shown in other cases where the
attractiveness of the error would seem irresistible to the coarser
nature of men. The evils consequent on divorce, which has been
authorized in Germany for three centuries, have been much lessened by
women’s instinctive repugnance to it. The same may be said of recent
attacks upon marriage, which are still more serious because the anarchy
of modern life revives all the extravagances of the metaphysical spirit
in ancient times. In no one case has a scheme of society hostile to
marriage met with any real favour from women, plausible as many of them
seemed. Unable in their ignorance of social science to see the fallacy
of such schemes themselves, our revolutionary writers cannot conceive
that women will not be convinced by them. But happily women, like the
people, judge in these matters by the heart rather than by the head. In
the absence of any guiding principle to direct the understanding and
prevent the deviations to which it is always exposed, the heart is a
far safer guide.

There is no need at present of pursuing these remarks farther. It is
abundantly clear that women are in every respect adapted for rectifying
the moral deviations to which every element in the social organism is
liable. And if we already feel the value of their influence, springing
as it does from the unaided inspirations of the heart, we may be sure
it will become far more consolidated and will be far more widely felt,
when it rests on the basis of a sound philosophical system, capable of
refuting sophisms and exposing fallacies from which their unassisted
instinct is insufficient to preserve us.

 [Their social influence in
 the _salon_]

Thus the part to be played by women in public life is not merely
passive. Not only will they give their sanction individually
and collectively to the verdicts of public opinion as formed by
philosophers and by the people; but they will themselves interfere
actively in moral questions. It will be their part to maintain the
primary principle of Positivism, which originated with themselves, and
of which they will always be the most natural representatives.

But, how, it may be asked, can this be reconciled with my previous
remark that women’s life should still be essentially domestic?

For the ancients, and for the greater part of the human race at the
present time, it would be irreconcilable. But in Western Europe the
solution has long ago been found. From the time when women acquired,
as they did in the Middle Ages, a fair measure of domestic freedom,
opportunities for social intercourse arose, which combined most happily
the advantages of private and of public life, and in these women
presided. The practice afterwards extended, especially in France, and
these meetings became the laboratories of public opinion. It seems now
as if they had died out, or had lost their character. The intellectual
and moral anarchy of our times is most unfavourable to free interchange
of thoughts and feelings. But a custom so social, and which did such
good service in the philosophical movement preceding the Revolution, is
assuredly not destined to perish. In the more perfect social state to
which we are tending, it will be developed more fully than ever, when
men’s minds and hearts have accepted the rallying point offered by the
new philosophy.

This is, then, the mode in which women can with propriety participate
in public life. Here all classes will recognize their authority as
paramount. Under the new system these meetings will entirely lose
their old aristocratic character, which is now simply obstructive.
The Positivist salon will complete the series of social meetings, in
which the three elements of the spiritual power will be able to act
in concert. First, there is the religious assemblage in the Temple of
Humanity. Here the philosopher will naturally preside, the other two
classes taking on a secondary part. In the Club again it is the people
who will take the active part; women and philosophers would support
them by their presence, but without joining in the debate. Lastly,
women in their salons will promote active and friendly intercourse
between all three classes; and here all who may be qualified to take a
leading part will find their influence cordially accepted. Gently and
without effort a moral control will thus be established, by which acts
of violence or folly may be checked in their source. Kind advice, given
indirectly but earnestly, will often save the philosopher from being
blinded by ambition, or from deviating, through intellectual pride,
into useless digressions. Working men at these meetings will learn
to repress the spirit of violence or envy that frequently arises in
them, recognizing the sacredness of the care thus manifested for their
interests. And the great and the wealthy will be taught from the manner
in which praise and blame is given by those whose opinion is most
valued, that the only justifiable use of power or talent is to devote
it to the service of the weak.

 [But the Family is their
 principal sphere of action]

But, however important the public duties that women will ultimately
be called upon to perform, the Family is after all their highest and
most distinctive sphere of work. It was in allusion to their domestic
influence that I spoke of them as the originators of spiritual power.
Now the Family, although it is the basis of all human society, has
never been satisfactorily defended by any received system of society.
All the corrosive power of metaphysical analysis has been employed
upon it; and of many of the sophisms put forward no rational refutation
has been given. On the other hand, the protection of the theologians
is no less injurious. For they still persist in connecting the
institutions of the Family with their obsolete dogmas, which, however
useful they may have been formerly, are now simply dangerous. From the
close of the Middle Ages the priesthood has been powerless, as the
licentious songs of the troubadours prove, to protect the sanctity of
marriage against the shallow but mischievous attacks which even then
were made against it. And afterwards, when these false principles
became more generally prevalent, and even royal courts disgraced
themselves by giving public approval to them, the weakness of the
priests became still more manifest. Thus nothing can be more monstrous
than these ignorant assertions that theological doctrines have been the
safeguard of the Family. They have done nothing to preserve it from the
most subversive attacks, under which it must have succumbed, but for
the better instincts of society, especially of the female portion of
it. With the exception of a foolish fiction about the origin of Woman,
theology has put forward no systematic defence of marriage; and as
soon as theological authority itself fell into discredit, the feeble
sanction which it gave to domestic morality became utterly powerless
against sophistical attacks. But now that the Family can be shown on
Positive principles to rest on scientific laws of human nature or
of society, the danger of metaphysical controversy and theological
feebleness is past. These principles will be discussed systematically
in the second volume of the larger Treatise to which this work is the
Introduction. But the few remarks to which I must at present limit
myself, will, I hope, at least satisfy the reader as to the capability
of Positivism to re-establish morality upon a firm basis.

 [Woman’s mission as a wife.
 Conjugal love an education
 for universal sympathy]

According to the lower views of the subject, such as those coarsely
expressed by the great hero of reaction, Napoleon, procreation and
maternity are the only social functions of Woman. Indeed many theorists
object even to her rearing her children, and think it preferable
to leave them to the abstract benevolence of the State. But in the
Positivist theory of marriage, the principal function of Woman is one
quite unconnected with procreation. It is a function dependent on the
highest attributes of our nature.

Vast as is the moral importance of maternity, yet the position of
wife has always been considered even more characteristic of woman’s
nature; as shown by the fact that the words woman and wife are in many
languages synonymous. Marriage is not always followed by children; and
besides this, a bad wife is very seldom indeed a good mother. The first
aspect then, under which Positivism considers Woman, is simply as the
companion of Man, irrespective of her maternal duties.

Viewed thus, Marriage is the most elementary and yet the most perfect
mode of social life. It is the only association in which entire
identity of interests is possible. In this union, to the moral
completeness of which the language of all civilized nations bears
testimony, the noblest aim of human life is realized, as far as it
ever can be. For the object of human existence, as shown in the second
chapter, is progress of every kind; progress in morality, that is to
say in the subjection of Self-interest to Social Feeling, holding the
first rank. Now this unquestionable principle leads us by a very sure
and direct path to the true theory of marriage.

Different as the two sexes are by nature, and increased as that
difference is by the diversity which happily exists in their social
position, each is consequently necessary to the moral development
of the other. In practical energy and in the mental capacity which
usually accompanies it, Man is evidently superior to Woman. Woman’s
strength, on the other hand, lies in Feeling. She excels Man in love,
as Man excels her in force. It is impossible to conceive of a closer
union than that which binds these two beings to the mutual service and
perfection of each other, saving them from all danger of rivalry. The
voluntary character too of this union gives it a still further charm,
when the choice has been on both sides a happy one. In the Positive
theory, then, of marriage, its principal object is considered to be
that of completing and confirming the education of the heart by calling
out the purest and strongest of human sympathies.

It is true that sexual instinct, which, in man’s case at all events,
was the origin of conjugal attachment, is a feeling purely selfish. It
is also true that its absence would in the majority of cases, diminish
the energy of affection. But woman with her more loving heart, has
usually far less need of this coarse stimulus than man. The influence
of her purity reacts on man, and ennobles his affection. And affection
is in itself so sweet, that when once it has been aroused by whatever
agency, its own charm is sufficient to maintain it in activity. When
this is the case, conjugal union becomes a perfect ideal of friendship;
yet still more beautiful than friendship, because each possesses and is
possessed by the other. For perfect friendship, difference of sex is
essential, as excluding the possibility of rivalry. No other voluntary
tie can admit of such full and unrestrained confidence. It is the
source of the most unalloyed happiness that man can enjoy; for there
can be no greater happiness than to live for another.

But independently of the intrinsic value of this sacred union, we have
to consider its importance from the social point of view. It is the
first stage in our progress towards that which is the final object of
moral education, namely, universal love. Many writers of the so-called
socialist school, look upon conjugal love and universal benevolence,
the two extreme terms in the scale of affections, as opposed to each
other. In the second chapter, I pointed out the falseness and danger
of this view. The man who is incapable of deep affection for one
whom he has chosen as his partner in the most intimate relations of
life, can hardly expect to be believed when he professes devotion to
a mass of human beings of whom he knows nothing. The heart cannot
throw off its original selfishness, without the aid of some complete
and enduring affection. And conjugal love, concentrated as it is upon
one object exclusively, is more enduring and complete than any other.
From personal experience of strong love we rise by degrees to sincere
affection for all mankind; although, as the scope of feeling widens,
its energy must decrease. The connexion of these two states of feeling
is instinctively recognized by all; and it is clearly indicated by the
Positive theory of human nature, which has now placed it beyond the
reach of metaphysical attacks. When the moral empire of Woman has been
more firmly established by the diffusion of Positivist principles, men
will see that the common practice of looking to the private life of a
statesman as the best guarantee of his public conduct had deep wisdom
in it. One of the strongest symptoms of the general laxity of morals to
which mental anarchy has brought us, is that disgraceful law passed
in France thirty years ago, and not yet repealed; the avowed object
of which was to surround men’s lives with a ‘wall’ of privacy; a law
introduced by psychologist politicians who no doubt needed such a
wall.[8]

 [Conditions of marriage.
 Indissoluble monogamy]

The purpose of marriage once clearly understood, it becomes easy to
define its conditions. The intervention of society is necessary; but
its only object is to confirm and to develop the order of things which
exists naturally.

It is essential in the first place to the high purposes for which
marriage has been instituted, that the union shall be both exclusive
and indissoluble. So essential indeed are both conditions, that we
frequently find them even when the connexion is illegal. That any one
should have ventured to propound the doctrine that human happiness is
to be secured by levity and inconsistency in love, is a fact which
nothing but the utter deficiency of social and moral principles can
explain. Love cannot be deep unless it remains constant to a fixed
object. The very possibility of change is a temptation to it. So
differently constituted as man and woman are, is their short life too
much for perfect knowledge and love of one another? Yet the versatility
to which most human affection is liable makes the intervention of
society necessary. Without some check upon indecision and caprice, life
might degenerate into a miserable series of experiments, each ending
in failure and degradation. Sexual love may become a powerful engine
for good: but only on the condition of placing it under rigorous and
permanent discipline. Those who doubt the necessity for this, have only
to cast a glance beyond Western Europe at the countries where no such
discipline has been established. It has been said that the adoption or
rejection of monogamy is a simple question of climate. But for this
hypothesis there is no ground whatever. It is as contrary to common
observation as to philosophic theory. Marriage, like every other human
institution, has always been improving. Beginning in all countries with
unrestricted polygamy, it tends in all to the purest monogamy. Tracing
back the history of Northern Europe, we find polygamy there as well as
in the South; and Southern nations, like Northern, adopt polygamy as
their social life advances. We see the tendency to it in those parts of
the East which come into contact with Western civilization.

Monogamy, then, is one of the most precious gifts which the Middle Ages
have bequeathed to Western Europe. The striking superiority of social
life in the West is probably due to it more than to any other cause.
Protestant countries have seriously impaired its value by their laws of
divorce. But this aberration will hardly be permanent. It is alien to
the purer feelings of women and of the people, and the mischief done by
it is limited to the privileged classes. France is now threatened with
a revival of the metaphysical delusions of the Revolution, and it is
feared by some that the disastrous example of Germany in this respect
will be imitated. But all such tendencies, being utterly inconsistent
with the habits of modern life, will soon be checked by the sounder
philosophical principles which have now arisen. The mode of resistance
to these errors which Positivism adopts will render the struggle most
useful in hastening the adoption of the true theory of marriage. The
spirit of Positivism being always relative, concessions may be made
to meet exceptional cases, without weakening or contradicting the
principle; whereas the absolute character of theological doctrine was
incompatible with concession. The rules of morality should be general
and comprehensive; but in their practical application exceptions have
often to be made. By no philosophy but the Positive can these two
conditions be reconciled.

 [Perpetual widowhood]

To the spirit of anarchy, however, Positivism yields nothing. The unity
essential to marriage, it renders more complete than ever. It develops
the principle of monogamy, by inculcating, not as a legal institution,
but as moral duty, the perpetuity of widowhood. Affection so firmly
concentrated has always been regarded with respect even on man’s side.
But hitherto no religion has had sufficient purity or influence to
secure its adoption. Positivism, however, from the completeness of its
synthesis, and from the fact that its rules are invariably based on the
laws of nature, will gain such influence, and we find little difficulty
in inducing all natures of delicate feeling to accept this additional
obligation. It follows from the very principle which to the Positivist
is the object of all marriage, the raising and purifying of the heart.
Unity of the tie which is already recognized as necessary in life, is
not less so in death. Constancy in widowhood was once common among
women; and if its moral beauty is less appreciated now, it is because
all systematic morality has been forgotten. But it is none the less,
as careful study of human nature will show, a most precious source of
moral good, and one which is not beyond the reach of nobler natures,
even in their youth. Voluntary widowhood, while it offers all the
advantages which chastity can confer on the intellectual and physical
as well as on the moral nature, is yet free from the moral dangers
of celibacy. Constant adoration of one whom Death has implanted
more visibly and deeply on the memory, leads all high natures, and
especially philosophers, to give themselves more unreservedly to the
service of Humanity; and thus their public life is animated by the
ennobling influence of their innermost feelings. Alike from a sense of
their own truest happiness and from devotion to public duty, they will
be led to this result.

Deep as is the satisfaction in this prolongation of the sacredness
of marriage, it may be carried by those who recognize its value yet
further. As the death of one did not destroy the bond, so neither
should the death of both. Let, then, those whom death could not divide
be laid in the same grave together. A promise of this solemn act of
perpetuation might be given beforehand, when the organs of public
opinion judged it merited. A man would find a new motive for public
exertion, if it were felt to be a pledge that the memory of her whom he
loved should be for ever coupled with his own. We have a few instances
where this union of memories has taken place spontaneously, as in
the case of Laura and Petrarch, and of Dante and Beatrice. Yet these
instances are so exceptional, that they hardly help us to realize
the full value of the institution proposed. There is no reason for
limiting it to cases of extraordinary genius. In the more healthy state
of society to which we are tending, where private and public life
will be far more closely connected than they have been hitherto, this
recompense of service may be given to all who have deserved it, by
those who have come within their circle of influence.

Such, then, are the consolations which Positivist sympathy can
give. They leave no cause to regret the visionary hopes held out by
Christianity, hopes which now are as enfeebling to the heart as to
the intellect. Here, as in all other respects, the moral superiority
of Positivism is shown, for the comfort which it gives to the bereaved
implies a strengthening of the tie. Christian consolation, of which
so much has been said, rather encourages a second union. By so doing
it seriously impairs the value of the institution; for a division of
affection arises, which indeed seems hardly compatible with the vague
utopia of a future life. The institutions of perpetual widowhood and of
union in the tomb have found no place in any previous system, though
both were wanting to make monogamy complete. Here, as elsewhere, the
best reply which the new philosophy can give to ignorant prejudice
or malignant calumny, is to take new steps forward in the moral
advancement of Man.

Thus the theory of marriage, as set forward by the Positivist, becomes
totally independent of any physical motive. It is regarded by him as
the most powerful instrument of moral education; and therefore as the
basis of public or individual welfare. It is no overstrained enthusiasm
which leads us to elevate the moral purity of marriage. We do so
from rigorous examination of the facts of human nature. All the best
results, whether personal or social, of marriage may follow, when the
union, though more impassioned, is as chaste as that of brother and
sister. The sexual instinct has no doubt something to do in most cases
with the first formation of the passion; but it is not necessary in
all cases to gratify the instinct. Abstinence, in cases where there is
real ground for it on both sides, will but serve to strengthen mutual
affection.

 [Woman’s mission as a mother]

We have examined the position of Woman as a wife, without supposing her
to be a mother. We shall find that maternity, while it extends her
sphere of moral influence, does not alter its nature.

As a mother, no less than as a wife, her position will be improved
by Positivism. She will have, almost exclusively, the direction of
household education. Public education given subsequently, will be
little but a systematic development of that which has been previously
given at home.

 [Education of children
 belongs to mothers.
 They only can guide the
 development of character]

For it is a fundamental principle that education, in the normal
condition of society, must be entrusted to the spiritual power; and
in the family the spiritual power is represented by Woman. There are
strong prejudices against entrusting the education of children to
mothers: prejudices springing from the revolutionary spirit of modern
times. Since the close of the Middle Ages, the tendency has been to
place the intellect above the heart. We have neglected the moral side
of education, and I have given undue importance to its intellectual
side. But Positivism having superseded this revolutionary phase by
demonstrating the preponderance of the heart over the intellect, moral
education will resume its proper place. Certainly the present mode of
instruction is not adopted for Woman’s teaching. But their influence
over the education of the future will be even greater than it was in
the Middle Ages. For in the first place, in every part of it, moral
considerations will be paramount; and moreover, until puberty, nothing
will be studied continuously except Art and Poetry. The knights of old
times were usually brought up in this way under feminine guidance, and
on them most assuredly it had no enervating influence. The training can
hardly be supposed less adapted to a pacific than to a warlike state of
society. For instruction, theoretical and practical, as distinguished
from education, masters are no doubt necessary. But moral education
will be left entirely to women, until the time arrives for systematic
teaching of moral science in the years immediately preceding majority.
Here the philosopher is necessary. But the chief duties of the
philosopher lie with adults; his aim being to recall them, individually
or collectively, to principles impressed on them in childhood, and to
enforce the right application of these principles to special cases as
they may arise. That part of education which has the greatest influence
on life, what may be called the spontaneous training of the feelings,
belongs entirely to the mother. Hence it is, as I have already
observed, of the greatest importance to allow the pupil to remain with
his family, and to do away with the monastic seclusion of our public
schools.

The peculiar fitness of women for inculcating these elementary
principles of morality is a truth which every true philosopher will
fully recognize. Women, having stronger sympathies than men, must
be better able to call out sympathies in others. Men of good sense
have always felt it more important to train the heart than the head;
and this is the view adopted by Positive Philosophy. There is a
danger of exaggerating the importance of system and of forgetting
the conditions on which its utility depends; but the Positivist is
preserved from this danger by the peculiar reality of his philosophy.
In morals, even more than in other subjects, we can only systematize
what has existed previously without system. The feelings must first
be stimulated to free and direct action, before we attempt to bring
them under philosophic discipline. And this process, which begins with
birth, and lasts during the whole period of physical growth, should
be left for women to superintend. So specially are they adapted for
it, that failing the mother, a female friend, if well chosen, and if
she can make herself sufficiently a member of the family, will in most
cases do better than the father himself. The importance of the subject
can only be appreciated by minds dominated, as women’s minds are, by
feeling. Women can see, what men can seldom see, that most actions, and
certainly the actions of youth and childhood, ought not to be judged
in themselves so much as by the tendencies which they show or by the
habits to which they lead. Viewed with reference to their influence
on character, no actions are indifferent. The simplest events in a
child’s life may serve as an occasion for enforcing the fundamental
principle by which the early as well as later stages of Positivist
education should be directed; the strengthening of Social Feeling,
the weakening of Self-love. In fact, actions of an unimportant kind
are precisely those in which it is easiest to appreciate the feelings
which prompted them; since the mind of the observer, not being occupied
with the consequences of such actions, is more free to examine their
source. Moreover, it is only by teaching the child to do right in small
things that he can be trained for the hard inward struggle that lies
before him in life; the struggle to bring the selfish instincts more
and more completely under the control of his higher sympathies. In
these respects the best tutor, however sympathetic his nature, will be
always far inferior to a good mother. A mother may often not be able to
explain the reason of the principle on which she acts, but the wisdom
of her plans will generally show itself in the end. Without formal
teaching, she will take every opportunity of showing her children, as
no other instructor could show them, the joy that springs from generous