H,rro~t, of Europeon Idea. Vol. 7, No. 6, pp. 651-660, 1986 Prmted in Great Britam

0191-6599/86 %3.00+0.00 Pergamon Journals Ltd.

EARLY FRENCH SOCIALISM RECONSIDERED-II. SOCIAL SCIENCE, RHETORIC AND HISTORICAL

PROGRESS*

PAUL E. CORCORANI

The French socialists writers from the period 1830-48 illustrate a complex diversity of ideas and perspectives, but it is possible to discern a basic uniformity in their rhetorical objectives. Scholars have tended not to see this, and have instead drawn the conclusion that early French socialists were philosophically shallow, romantically utopian, inconsistent in method and unsophisticated in their comprehension of the dynamics of political power. In Part I of this study a review of the propaganda of Fourier and Cabet provided the rhetorical context within which a reassessment of early French socialism can be made. Here it is argued that when the larger movement of which the Fourierists and Cabet were representative is placed within a contemporaneous perspective, an interpretation arises that makes sense, rather than nonsense, of early French socialist ideas and the techniques by which they expressed them.

It is a common but paradoxical criticism that the French socialists were loose and incoherent in argument, and yet were obsessed with a ‘systkme’ of total social harmony. This difficulty may have more to do with our own critical distance than we would like to admit. Critics invariably look back across the century of socialist and communist theory which has predominantly been articulated in a Marxist framework. Marxism, it will be generally agreed, has always stressed the importance of theoretical coherence and methodological precision, and has engaged in ideological criticism on the assumption that there is a certain structure to modes of political discourse. Thus is it now a critical reflex to look back and see in these early socialists an ideological incoherence or indeterminacy in comparison to the structure, or at least the aspirations, of Marxist philosophy and economics. The error of anachronism in the judgement of French socialist thought is unmistakable. Why should, for example, the Feuerbachian critique of Hegelianism and disillusionment with liberal-bourgeois German reforms be the portals to the royal road to socialism for Frenchmen who understood themselves to be carrying on the struggle of the 1789 Revolution? Did their failure to use a German scholastic vocabulary to expound a ‘dialectical’ phenomenology of historical materialism mean that they must be adjudged as unscientific and ideologically naive?

Socialism as a Social Science A thorough reading of French socialist literature from this period did not turn

up a single instance of the use of the term idbologie. Their use of sciencesociale is the closest equivalent to be found for the meaning that is now implied by the term

*Part I of this paper was published in History of European Ideas 7 (1986), 469-488. TDepartment of Politics, University of Adelaide, Adelaide, South Australia 5001.

651

Paul E. Corcoran

‘ideology’,’ in its sense as a structure of ideas having a comprehensive and internally consistent critical account of political society. But there is a also a very great difference between what was generally meant by French socialists as a science sociale and the range of meanings now expressed by ‘ideology’.

To the French socialists, at least for most of them, science sociale was not regarded as a complete body of theory, nor even a sharp and reliable methodology. Rather, they assumed that it was a genuine experimental science, and that its findings and conclusions were achieved piecemeal (often aided by the coincidence of events or the fortuitous power of one’s own genius), in the same way that the natural sciences happened onto new evidence or methods. Thus science sociale was a key, as many socialist writers put it, but the doors remained to be opened and the rooms searched. No doubt alluding to their own training, some socialists included engineering in their understanding of science.

The aim of a social engineer, in their view, was to build new social institutions and relationships. Whether the engineer was able to use his techniques to explain or understand the past, and whether the proposed solutions must be necessarily and explicitly related to inexorable historical developments, were secondary questions. Nevertheless these advocates of social science, following Saint-Simon and Fourier, took for granted that the practical engineering was based upon scientific principles. A Weltanschauungwas certainly possessed by these thinkers, but that is far from saying science sociale was thought to be coincidental with it.

Today many scholars regard as shallow or inconsistent a socialist critique which postulates that inexorable forces produce inequality, class division and social conflict, but which also proposes that these inexorable forces can be diverted or cancelled out; or that an inevitable revolution will lead to no good or final end; or that such fortuitous events as an invention of social science, an efflorescence of good will, or the courageous resolve of a few minds might be brought to bear to create a new age ofharmony. In short, for perhaps aesthetic or moral reasons we may not like these denouements, nor the free play of thought which would provide for such unpredictable outcomes. That, it seems, is our problem. Such a free play seemed perfectly reasonable to these Frenchmen, who had seen a great revolution go disastrously awry in a variety of ways, and who

themselves had little faith-though they had so much faith-in any system of thought that leaves out genius, the courage and virtue of a people, and the necessity of moral progress. They were all, every one, disciples of Rousseau, and these elements were objective realities-realities which no system of inexorable forces could fail to take seriously.

Other aspects of their thought which appear coy or lacking in solid appreciation of political reality may be viewed in a different light. Several French thinkers of this period, Saint-Simon and Proudhon even more confidently than Fourier and Cabet, openly expressed the view that the publication of their theoretical system was itself the landmark historical act distinguishing two epochs, and that the persuasive power required for its implementation was inherent in the system. The rhetorical stance was one of proclamation: the power of the printed word, animating the truth that will set mankind free. Whether their invention was the fruit of genius or of finally ripened historical circumstance was immaterial in comparison to the sheer fact that the new system existed. Indeed, several thinkers seemed to believe the eventual implementation of the system,

Early French Socialism Reconsidered-II 653

and even the methods used to bring about the transformation, were distinctly secondary in importance.2

While this inspiration has seemed ndive or even silly to many critics, this is not necessarily the case. If it be considered that the major obstacle to political change and the achievement of social community is a moral obstacle-as virtually all these thinkers did-it is not inconsistent (if still naive) to think that the first practical step is to appeal for a wider adherence to enlightened reason and the truths of abstract theory. The practical and the moral are thus one and the same problem; a popular appeal to moral sensitivity, awareness and conviction is a practical political step. Other steps-forming political parties,3 new legislation, changing the constitution, adopting new economic practices or institutions, organising labour-are either secondary or irrelevant, particularly if they are also strictly illegal. Such practical changes will flow naturally from moral conviction, but they cannot be made to precede it. One must admit that, granting the axiom of the moral impasse, the consequences follow with some logic. The fact that such a view was held so broadly among the socialists is certainly one reason why their rhetoric was frequently aimed at an intelligentsia, and why there were few efforts at forming mass parties or organising direct action. But these socialists were not ignorant of the potency of fervent moral appeals to the masses-a point merely underscored by the press laws, the prohibitions of worker unions and the laws forbidding political assemblies in the streets.

Across the political spectrum in the 184Os, extending back at least to the days of revolution and forward to the present day, the most frequently decried social problem in France is Pgoi:sme. This charge was especially made on the socialist side in reference to the gamut of social evils associated with individualism (always used pejoratively), unlimited economic competition, wealth, selfishness, liberal claims to the natural basis of private property, etc. The bourgeoisie were always seen, both by the worker publicists and especially the intellectual socialists of middle-class or upper-class background, as the essential embodi- ment of .&goi:sme, but it was an ill that affected everyone seriously: shop owners just struggling out of the working-dass were the most punishing masters;4 the nobility were attached to their privileges, traditions of wealth and opulent living; the politicians were the worst of all. Given this defect in society, it seemed a logical step to begin chipping away at it directly by exposing it to the light of day; by providing a new moral system to supplant the one based on family and property; by providing a new economic system to replace the one based on greed and cut-throat competitiveness; by providing a new religion to replace Christianity in the perverted form it had assumed as the bulwark of tyranny, inequality and property. All of these tasks had been delineated by the newscience sociaie, and what was now required was propagation, first and foremost. People could not be expected to heal a defect of which they had not been made painfully aware, nor could they be expected to adopt a new regime whose authority, character and likely prospects were unknown.

The Rhetoric of Proclamation The role of rhetoric was therefore central, and this directs our attention to the

socialist movement’s implicit theory of communication. French socialists took for granted that speech and publication were forms of action and not simply

654 Pad E. Corcoran

preliminaries to action. When publicists announced in their journals that their goals were the propagation of a new economic system leading to the moral and intellectual amelioration of the people, there is no obvious reason why this should be dismissed as utopian naivete, any more than it should be interpreted as subterfuge to hide a real aim of incitement to political revolution. Nor is it apt to blame them for not succeeding in what they did not attempt.

The early French socialists had a high estimation of the contribution that their publications were making to the practical realisation of socialism. Looking back, it is easy to be sceptical of this, especially (one might say, with equal force, even) if one is convinced of the necessity, as Marx was, of the unity of theory and practice. However, it is worth pointing out that several writers devoted themselves wholeheartedly to putting their ideas into practice and it is just this part of their efforts that was most comical and least convincing, while their abstract theories have been powerful influences on successive generations of socialist thinkers, beginning notably with Marx.

In effect, the early socialists were propagandists for a new organisation of society, and it has been already documented that their theory of communication required a moral and symbolic re-organisation as the first step. They saw this step as a major political action (most would have insisted on calling it a ‘social’ act) far more important than efforts devoted to legislative reform or the formation of political parties. This is why the socialists virtually ignored representative institutions of government, and paid much more attention to the press,5 religion, education, the new science sociale and social morality. That emphasis was to continue after the adoption of a new social system.6 So important was communication in the process of social re-organisation that, as mentioned above, some were convinced that the commencement of a journal or the publication of a system was the beginning of a new age, or at least the watershed point from which the new age would be ushered in. This explains the heroic and proclamatory tone of writers who believed that their ideas marked the beginning of this new age, and also the occasional judgement that what remained was the simple task of spreading the gospel. With a profound sense of appreciation of the implications of their own socialist-communitarian ideals, many writers proclaimed that ‘public opinion is the queen of the world’.’ But the same metaphor permitted them to believe that she must be escorted by a greater sovereign, social science.

It was not difficult for socialist and communist thinkers to see publishing as a political act. The press laws made publishing a risky business for men and women of advanced ideas. The official legal restraints and censorship imposed on the socialist press gave recognition to the political impact of publicising popular discontents and propagandising on behalf of revolutionary social and economic ideas. Thus the flourish of commitment, heroic courage and martyrdom that strikes the modern reader as cloying or ineffectual posture was by no means insincere to those who regularly saw the direct connection between publishing one’s ideas and having one’s livelihood and liberty taken away. Bonds were forfeited, print shops smashed, offices locked, files confiscated and editors imprisoned. While we may tend to see romantic utopians today, it was easy for these socialists to regard themselves as caught up at the very forefront of ‘the tempest’ which they heralded. Some did run for political office (Proudhon,

Early French Socialism Reconsidered-II 655

Considtrant, Cabet and others), some were members of outlawed secret societies committed to armed revolution, ail of them were participants in the intrigues of Parisian politics, and many of them actually took part in the 1848 revolution. They were not dreamers and armchair philosophers.

It may still be puzzling that early socialists were disdainful of party politics; generally put no great stress on advocating universal suffrage;* rarely engaged in working-class organisation beyond setting up small editorial groups’ and study groups (as in the case of the Icarians); seemed to expect gradual reform of the moral, intellectual and physical plight of the masses; and were virtually unanimous in advocating non-violence and peaceful change. The challenge to such a strategy is clear enough: ‘If things are as bad as you say, concerning both the desperate conditions of the masses and the intransigent egoism of the political class, why not simply revolt, by any and all means? To do less is to do nothing. Why continue to harp about a ‘syst&ne’ in the face of daily oppression?’

Let us try to look at these questions from the socialists’ general viewpoint. A new system provides a talking point, an opening for debate and a standard of comparison with the present social system. A system reveals the limitations of reform, showing the need for scientific and general principles, and comprehen- sive radical change. As for advocating non-violence and being inclined to leave the masses out of the process of social transformation, much can be said. Genuine social change has to be scientific, systematic and organised. Hence the boast by some writers that their reforms were too radical to be revolutionary; revolution was a political process, in their view, and thus susceptible to all the diseases of such a growth: egoism, charismatic tyranny, the factionalism of parties, the maintenance of inequality and oppression by a new group. In effect, revolutions were insuf~ciently radical; they preserved traditions, only trans- ferring them from one group to another. As Frenchmen, they felt they had good reason to know what they were talking about.

Just as revolution was ineffective for systematic change, so too was the hope of change through legislative reform. Here socialist thinkers divide, since a few held that it was the only ultimately effective way to bring about the new system. Therefore it was worth the attempt to secure some elements of the system in law, leading the way to demonstrated success and the adoption of further elements. StilI it is generally true that socialist thinkers were disdainful of the personalities and parties within the constitutional monarchy, and were doubtful that republican institutions as then constituted could be relied upon to implement a new sociaf system. This in large part explains why they made no serious attempt at parliamenta~ party organisation. In any event, the masses did not have the franchise, and could not be absolutely counted on to join their ranks if they did. But this was neither surprising nor a cause for the socialists’ despair. In this period, there was certainly no precedent to support the idea that plebiscitary republicanism would offer the way to enlightened, systematic social trahsforma- tion. One had to suspect the opposite. Hence the question of implementation was inevitably elitist, although the paths chosen were many. Saint-Simon offered his institutional reforms to the various branches of the royal bureaucracy, as did Proudhon. Fourier and his disciples were convinced that change would and could come about only through completely private social actions, ranging from the setting up ofphalanst2res to the institution of cooperative financial banks and

656 Paul E. Corcoran

commercial groups, whose success would ensure spontaneous, widespread adoption. The Saint-Simonians intended to generate change through an evangelical religious reawakening. Leroux anticipated a social transformation along the lines of a cultural enlightenment led by a democratically purified Christian religion. The communist writers held out hope that, in their despair, the masses would be led to the virtues of association, equality and fraternity, guided by the light of social science and the image of community, and that this would either result in a revolution guided by a Babeuvist enlightened dictatorship or, preferably, the winning over of sufficient support in the present rbgime to permit the peaceful legislative adoption of the new principles of association.

Necessity and Historical Progress Some readers may view this interpretation of French socialism as merely a

restatement of the problem of ineffectual, dreamy utopianism, lacking the political will or the theoretical depth to grasp the Iogical consequences of social revolution. This is effectively to say that French socialists were not Marxists; they were not historical materialists, and had no appreciation of the origins and inexorable consequences of class struggle.

On the whole, the French socialists, even those who were or wanted to be strictly materialist, thought that the only embodiment of historical necessity was in ideas, and not in any social class, or any ‘collective cousciousness’ of a social class. Social science and, more broadly, philosophy were the tools of human intelligence. Although it was understood that the progress of truth and the enlightened human spirit were necessary and inexorable as to their direction, the progress was always the victory of ia ghzie. Despite the obvious and natural stages according to which this progress was made, there was no guarantee that this progress would come now, or be lodged in this social class, or not be momentarily diverted by this mistaken idea or that debacle of events.

Now it is easy to see how this account of ‘inevitable human progress’ could be mistaken, especially by a German philosopher. It is even easier to imagine that a German philosopher would not like this account. Be that as it may, the French socialist thinkers understood necessary social progress as essentially philosophi- cal, a progress of ideas, accumulated knowledge which is true and methods which work. Several thinkers had a fairly heroic view of individual roles in the progress of humanity (ranging from Saint-Simon to Dezamy), and virtually all romanticised the people. But amongst these thinkers, there was simply no assumption that the poor masses, nor any (urban) part of them, were a necessary or even likely party or direct political force in forming revolutionary ideas, and shaping them into new systems or practices. In fact, if anything, ‘ia p/us nombreuse’ were more likely to be just the opposite. Much more likely was the possibility that they would act, as a mass, hysterically, irrationally and counter- revolutionarily, as in fact they did after the Revolution and again in re- establishing the Second Empire.

The inevitability and necessity of human progress was a general assumption of the French socialists, but it was understood as an historical and spiritual movement, as a growth of the mind, I’esprit and morals. Far from a rigid, mechanical dialectic process, it was a tendance, which was likely to be impeded

Early French Socialism Reconsidered-II 657

and interfered with by political action. Hence the socialists’ great interest in publishing to educate the masses directly, or at least that accessible portion of them who were literate. It cannot be emphasised too strongly that in the France of the 1830s and 184Os, there simply was not a familiarity with or confidence in parliamentary and other political institutions. io Political parties (with a central organisation, ideological framework, regular elections and a parliamentary function) were hardly known, due to the succession of regimes over a half- century, the prejudice against ‘the party spirit’, and a federal system that caused local elections to be fought over parochial identities by literally hundreds of small ‘parties’.

It should also be added that radicals and communists who belonged to the secret societies could hardly be expected to advocate elective and legislative reforms within the framework of the regime they intended to overthrow. Less revolutionary socialists were also understandably reluctant to become involved-Proudhon is an excellent case here-in a regime that might any day be overthrown. The journals which paid any attention at all to the National Assembly, mainly only the larger papers of the Saint-Simonians (Le Globe) and Fourierists (La Phalange), usually treated its members to such terms of abuse as prostitutes, egoists, tartufes, etc. (Name-calling might be taken as a measure of the powerlessness or inefficacy of the socialist movement, although defending that point could end up being in poor taste.)

The French Socialists’ ‘idealist’ view of historical progress, as both Marx and Engels characterised and condemned it, can be placed in better context by remembering that the distinction between materialism and idealism was hardly clear to Frenchmen at that time. These terms were mingled with various strains of Christianity, spiritualism, atheism, anti-cleri~lism, empiricism and political economy. Dezamy tried to work out a clear philosophical materialism, but his efforts were largely frantic and self-contradictory,” and probably very few paid any attention to him. Most writers, including the avowed materialists, saw nothing contradictory in holding that social reform must be moral, intellectual and physical, generally in that order of importance. The critique of Hegel’s idealism and spi~tualism being carried out at this time by Feuerbach and Marx (the latter in the name of materialism) would hardly have been sensible and comprehensible to the French socialists, and not simply because of a lack of intelligence. The idea that historical inevitability was a material force, literally a force of matter and independent of human thought, will and agency (leaving God out of it, as some would and some would not) would have seemed utterly strange, quite literally foreign. Inevitabili~, yes, but not without fesprit, la gtkie and la conscience.

Today one may feel comfortable with the materialist view ofprogress, and find the French socialists’ ‘fusion’ of idealism and materialism (which is to say their rejection of such a distinction) unacceptable. But it was indeed their position, and it renders much more logical and thorough their views on elite leadership, science, education, the special impo~ance of the dissemination of knowledge (conferring special obligations upon the press, science, and even governmentsi concerning communication or propaganda) and extra-political social reform. Without the progress of l’esprit, there could be no other genuine progress. Indeed, most socialists (Leroux, Cabet and Claude Tillier are representative of

658 Paul E. Corcoran

the breadth of the view) were convinced that the Second Republic and virtually all the post-Revolutionary regimes were just such obstacles to progress. But this was no reason to launch revolutiona~ mass movements, which were feared to be equally inhibiting of progress. This fear lay behind the criticism of radical egalitarian communism in the socialist press as negative, destructive and reactionary, as something that could only destroy, but not build. What we may read between the lines of such attacks,‘-’ despite the undoubted sympathy with communist social objectives, is the lingering fear and condescension v&bvi.s any political movement or popular appeal based upon the participation of the masses or the working-class. Any such tendency, in the socialist view, was likely to be

violent, short-sighted and given to selfish goals. Even the communist disavowels of violence, such as Pillot’s and Dezamy’s, seem to be based upon the same attitude, namely, that violent upheaval will be counterproductive to the main task of establishing a new social system. Because of the Napoleonic precedents of plebiscitary democracy following the Revolution, they saw no potential for such a movement as progressive and constructive. Thus it was not contradictory for the socialists to assume what appears to be an elitist perspective on social reform. No more is it a sure sign of their failure as publicists that their writings were intended for and read by a few, any more than it was contradictory or futile for an exclusively working-class journal like La Ruc~e~o~u~ajre to ‘speak through’ the masses to the intelligentsia and to invite the patronage of all classes.r4

It is imprecise to refer to the French socialists as ‘idealists’, except in a polemical sense which falls short of understanding the movement. They were intensely concerned with scientific knowledge, empirical data, experiments and trials of communal systems, the real life and physical tribulation of the masses, and a desire to satisfy, first of all, the material needs of bread, shelter and physical liberty. So a case can be made out that they were all materialists; in effect that all democratic movements are. This argument was certainly made by their Catholic criticsI Thus the distinction between idealist and materialist is misleading, as it has always been for French thinkers. They certainly placed their trust in science and what they called scientific law. They thought that history was a movement toward a new age of moral and material perfection. But they did not believe that there were ~i.~rori~a~ laws to compel this to take place in a certain way, or place, or pattern, or time; although several writers did claim that France was destined to be the first nation to achieve it.

The force of historical tradition to the French Socialists was, ifanything, more material, actual and historical than it could be to German thinkers like Hegel or Marx. France had had its Revolution. The morals of the new age-reason, liberty, equality, fraternity and the rights of man-had been proclaimed. This historical tradition was real, populated with real heroes and enemies, victories and defeats. The Revolution existed, was alive, however feebly and desperately so. It merely remained to rescue it from the new class which had seized it at the moment of liberation from the feudal class, and now reigned more disastrously than ever. This was a major difference between French and German socialist thinkers. The latter always seem to conceive of revolution as an idea (even if an idea of clashing material forces), as a future culmination rather than an historic reality which has been so hard to shape and subject to so many disappointments. Thus for many of the French socialists. such as Saint-Simon, Fourier and

EarIy French Socialism Reconsidered-II

Proudhon, the major question was not the organisation of the masses, but the re- organisation of the economy’6 in such a way as not to lose forever the moral ideals of the Revolution. Transforming the economy could only be accomplished by the application of sophisticated economic and social principles and the effective use of power in guaranteeing their administration.

Socialists had no excuses to make for their conviction that no meaningful political change could come to France through the use of violence or in other more peaceful forms of political action, although they were always first in calling for movements to organise labour, regulate child and female labour, establish public education, make taxation more equitable, and so forth-all practices which would make the present system less unbearable, but which would contribute little to the adoption of a new system.

The socialists were obsessed with the idea that a new system was the fundamental objective. These systems, it could not be denied, were the achievements of an intellectual Clite, the practitioners of the new science of society. The worker socialists did not despair, but welcomed this as a sign of progress. The new ground of moral renewal thus broken, it remained for the scientists and technicians to propagate socialism. So far as the socialists were concerned, this did not leave the masses out but included them as the life and substance of the new community.

NOTES 1. I am not here concerned with Marx’s first and special use of the term in The German

ZdeoIogy to refer to modes of thought betraying ‘false consciousness’, distorted lenses, as it were. preventing society from seeing real material relationships.

2. Saint-Simon is most explicit in this regard. See his Catkchismepolitique des industriels (1824) in Oeuvres complktes (Paris, 1832), pp. 71-721 also pp. 55, 63 and 66.

3. Several instances exist in the ouvrikre press of calling for the formation of political parties. La Ruche populaire made several appeals for a socialist workers’ party.

4. Adolphe Boyer, an ouvrier writer and putative economist, makes this point in a pamphlet titled Les Conseils de prudhomme au point de vue de l’int&?t des ouvriers (Paris, 1841), p. 4.

5. The socialist press, not unlike the press generally in France, displayed a remarkable sensitivity to other newspapers and journals. Each issue would contain regular, sometimes major, articles on reactions to their last number by other publications. One has the not entirely inaccurate impression that an editor put his edition together with other Parisian editors in mind as his most crucial readership. The impression also arises that the Parisian press was incestuous and engaged in petty feuds in a small and self-important world of its own.

6. For reasons of scope, we have not dealt here with the thinkers’ generally sophisticated theories of education within the ‘new system’, nor have we treatedsuch writers as Pierre Leroux, who emphasised the role of religion in bringing the new age.

7. La Ruche populaire, No. II (January 1840), 5. On p. 4, the author calls for the formation of a ‘parti socialiste des travailleurs’.

8. We have already noted how the socialists were divided on this crucial issue. A few were opposed to it outright; others favoured it; most regard it as a bogus issue, or at least one to be postponed. For a number of reasons, universal suffrage seemed to be more profitable to liberal-republicanism, and would be manipulated as such.

660 Paul E. Corcoran

9. E.g. La Ruche populaire, Le Travail (Lyon), and others. 10. Unlike other French thinkers, the socialists did not idolise theEnglish parliamentary

system, but rather subjected it to harsh abuse. See Dezamy, LaRuchepopufaire, inter alia.

11. He was mainly influenced by Hobbes, Helvetius and Buonoratti. 12. See Jules Lechevalier’s chilling proposal for a government propaganda ministry. The

sceptic will see this as something like a prototype for Orwell’s 1984, in ‘De la press periodique’, La Revue du progrb social 4 (April 1834), 333-61.

13. See Jacques DuPre, ‘Du communisme’, La Revue indkpendante I (December 1841) and DtGnocratie pacijique (August 1843).

14. In a drive to save La Ruche when new laws required a much larger cash security bond, the editors solicited contributions from all, and proudly published a list of honorary patrons containing the names of famous French nobility, Polish royalty, wealthy Paris editors, leading republican politicians, bankers, etc. The effort failed.

15. See H. Richelot, ‘L’Avenir selon M. Chateaubriand’, La Revue du progrts social 6 (June 1834), 676-82.

16. Emile Durkheim, Le Socialisme (Paris: P.U.F., 1971) argued for a general distinction between socialism as economic science and communism as utopian communalism. The early communists such as Babeuf were interested, he claimed, in poverty and the adoption of charitable values, whereas socialism is interested in wealth and the adoption of principles of production.