Chapter 24 - Page 2

to-morrow if they were
debarred from dilating upon it in the tongue of France!

Love of the second kind--renunciatory love--consists in a
yearning to undergo self-sacrifice for the object beloved,
regardless of any consideration whether such self-sacrifice will
benefit or injure the object in question. "There is no evil which
I would not endure to show both the world and him or her whom I
adore my devotion." There we have the formula of this kind of
love. People who thus love never look for reciprocity of
affection, since it is a finer thing to sacrifice yourself for
one who does not comprehend you. Also, they are always painfully
eager to exaggerate the merits of their sacrifice; usually
constant in their love, for the reason that they would find it
hard to forego the kudos of the deprivations which they endure
for the object beloved; always ready to die, to prove to him or
to her the entirety of their devotion; but sparing of such small
daily proofs of their love as call for no special effort of self-
immolation. They do not much care whether you eat well, sleep
well, keep your spirits up, or enjoy good health, nor do they
ever do anything to obtain for you those blessings if they have
it in their power; but, should you be confronting a bullet, or
have fallen into the water, or stand in danger of being burnt, or
have had your heart broken in a love affair--well, for all these
things they are prepared if the occasion should arise. Moreover,
people addicted to love of such a self-sacrificing order are
invariably proud of their love, exacting, jealous, distrustful,
and--strange to tell--anxious that the object of their adoration
should incur perils (so that they may save it from calamity, and
console it thereafter) and even be vicious (so that they may
purge it of its vice).

Suppose, now, that you are living in the country with a wife who
loves you in this self-sacrificing manner. You may be healthy and
contented, and have occupations which interest you, while, on the
other hand, your wife may be too weak to superintend the
household work (which, in consequence, will be left to the
servants), or to look after the children (who, in consequence,
will be left to the nurses), or to put her heart into any work
whatsoever: and all because she loves nobody and nothing but
yourself. She may be patently ill, yet she will say not a word to
you about it, for fear of distressing you. She may be patently
ennuyee, yet for your sake she will be prepared to be so for the
rest of her life. She may be patently depressed because you stick
so persistently to your occupations (whether sport, books,
farming, state service, or anything else) and see clearly that
they are doing you harm; yet, for