THE SOCIAL ASPECT OF POSITIVISM, AS SHOWN BY ITS CONNEXION WITH THE
GENERAL REVOLUTIONARY MOVEMENT OF WESTERN EUROPE
As the chief characteristic of Positive Philosophy is the paramount
importance that is given, and that on speculative grounds, to social
considerations, its efficiency for the purposes of practical life
is involved in the very spirit of the system. When this spirit is
rightly understood, we find that it leads at once to an object far
higher than that of satisfying our scientific curiosity; the object,
namely, of organizing human life. Conversely, this practical aspect
of Positive Philosophy exercises the most salutary influence upon its
speculative character. By keeping constantly before us the necessity
of concentrating all scientific efforts upon the social object which
constitutes their value, we take the best possible means of checking
the tendency inherent in all abstract inquiries to degenerate into
useless digressions. But this general connexion between theory and
practice would not by itself be sufficient for our purpose. It would be
impossible to secure the acceptance of a mental discipline, so new and
so difficult, were it not for considerations derived from the general
conditions of modern society; considerations calculated to impress
philosophers with a more definite sense of obligation to do their
utmost towards satisfying the wants of the time. By thus arousing
public sympathies and showing that the success of Positivism is a
matter of permanent and general importance, the coherence of the system
as well as the elevation of its aims will be placed beyond dispute.
We have hitherto been regarding Positivism as the issue in which
intellectual development necessarily results. We have now to view it
from the social side; for until we have done this, it is impossible to
form a true conception of it.
[The relation of Positivism
to the French Revolution]
And to do this, all that is here necessary is to point out the close
relation in which the new philosophy stands to the whole course
of the French Revolution. This revolution has now been agitating
Western nations for sixty years[5]. It is the final issue of the vast
transition through which we have been passing during the five previous
centuries.
In this great crisis there are naturally two principal phases; of
which only the first, or negative, phase has yet been accomplished. In
it we gave the last blow to the old system, but without arriving at
any fixed and distinct prospect of the new. In the second or positive
phase, which is at last beginning, a basis for the new social state
has to be constructed. The first phase led as its ultimate result to
the formation of a sound philosophical system; and by this system the
second phase will be directed. It is this twofold connexion which we
are now to consider.
[The negative or destructive
phase of the Revolution
stimulated the desire of
Progress, and consequently
the study of social
phenomena]
The strong reaction which was exercised upon the intellect by the
first great shock of revolution was absolutely necessary to rouse and
sustain our mental efforts in the search for a new system. For the
greatest thinkers of the eighteenth century had been blinded to the
true character of the new state by the effete remnants of the old.
And the shock was especially necessary for the foundation of social
science. For the basis of that science is the conception of human
Progress, a conception which nothing but the Revolution could have
brought forward into sufficient prominence.
Social Order was regarded by the ancients as stationary: and its theory
under this provisional aspect was admirably sketched out by the great
Aristotle. In this respect the case of Sociology resembles that of
Biology. In Biology statical conceptions were attained without the
least knowledge of dynamical laws. Similarly, the social speculations
of antiquity are entirely devoid of the conception of Progress. Their
historical field was too narrow to indicate any continuous movement of
Humanity. It was not till the Middle Ages that this movement became
sufficiently manifest to inspire the feeling that we were tending
towards a state of increased perfection. It was then seen by all
that Catholicism was superior to Polytheism and Judaism; and this
was afterwards confirmed by the corresponding political improvement
produced by the substitution of Feudalism for Roman government.
Confused as this first feeling of human Progress was, it was yet very
intense and very largely diffused; though it lost much of its vitality
in the theological and metaphysical discussions of later centuries. It
is here that we must look if we would understand that ardour in the
cause of Progress which is peculiar to the Western family of nations,
and which has been strong enough to check many sophistical delusions,
especially in the countries where the noble aspirations of the
Middle Ages have been least impaired by the metaphysical theories of
Protestantism or Deism.
But whatever the importance of this nascent feeling, it was very
far from sufficient to establish the conviction of Progress as a
fundamental principle of human society. To demonstrate any kind of
progression, at least three terms are requisite. Now the absolute
character of theological philosophy, by which the comparison between
Polytheism and Catholicism was instituted, prevented men from
conceiving the bare possibility of any further stage. The limits of
perfection were supposed to have been reached by the mediaeval system,
and beyond it there was nothing but the Christian Utopia of a future
life. The decline of mediaeval theology soon set the imagination free
from any such obstacles; but it led at the same time to a mental
reaction which for a long time was unfavourable to the development
of this first conception of Progress. It brought a feeling of blind
antipathy to the Middle Ages. Almost all thinkers in their dislike of
the Catholic dogmas were seized with such irrational admiration for
Antiquity as entirely to ignore the social superiority of the mediaeval
system; and it was only among the untaught masses, especially in the
countries preserved from Protestantism, that any real feeling of this
superiority was retained. It was not till the middle of the seventeenth
century that modern thinkers began to dwell on the conception of
Progress.
It re-appeared then under a new aspect. Conclusive evidence had by
that time been furnished that the more civilized portion of our
race had advanced in science and industry, and even, though not so
unquestionably, in the fine arts. But these aspects were only partial:
and though they were undoubtedly the source of the more systematic
views held by our own century upon the subject, they were not enough
to demonstrate the fact of a progression. And indeed, from the social
point of view, so far more important than any other, Progress seemed
more doubtful than it had been in the Middle Ages.
But this condition of opinion was changed by the revolutionary shock
which impelled France, the normal centre of Western Europe, to apply
itself to the task of social regeneration. A third term of comparison,
that is to say the type on which modern society is being moulded, now
presented itself; though it lay as yet in a distant and obscure future.
Compared with the mediaeval system it was seen to be an advance as
great as that which justified our ancestors of chivalrous times in
asserting superiority to their predecessors of antiquity. Until the
destruction of Catholic Feudalism became an overt fact, its effete
remnants had concealed the political future, and the fact of continuous
progress in society had always remained uncertain. Social phenomena
have this peculiarity, that the object observed undergoes a process
of development as well as and simultaneously with the observer. Now
up to the time of the Revolution, political development, on which the
principal argument for the theory of Progress must always be based,
corresponded in its imperfection to the incapacity of the scientific
spirit to frame the theory of it. A century ago, thinkers of the
greatest eminence were unable to conceive of a really continuous
progression; and Humanity, as they thought, was destined to move in
circles or in oscillations. But under the influence of the Revolution a
real sense of human development has arisen spontaneously and with more
or less result, in minds of the most ordinary cast; first in France,
and subsequently throughout the whole of Western Europe. In this
respect the crisis has been most salutary; it has given us that mental
courage as well as force without which the conception could never have
arisen. It is the basis of social science and therefore of all Positive
Philosophy; since it is only from the social aspect that Positive
Philosophy admits of being viewed as a connected whole. Without the
theory of Progress, the theory of Order, even supposing that it
could be formed, would be inadequate as a basis for Sociology. It is
essential that the two should be combined. The very fact that Progress,
however viewed, is nothing but the development of Order, shows that
Order cannot be fully manifested without Progress. The dependence
of Positivism upon the French Revolution may now be understood more
clearly. Nor was it by a merely fortuitous coincidence that by this
time the introductory course of scientific knowledge by which the mind
is prepared for Positivism should have been sufficiently completed.
But we must here observe that, beneficial as the intellectual reaction
of this great crisis undoubtedly was, its effects could not be realized
until the ardour of the revolutionary spirit had been to some extent
weakened. The dazzling light thrown upon the Future for some time
obscured our vision of the Past. It disclosed, though obscurely, the
third term of the social progression; but it prevented us from fairly
appreciating the second term. It encouraged that blind aversion to
the Middle Ages, which had been inspired by the emancipating process
of modern times; a feeling which had once been necessary to induce us
to abandon the old system. The suppression of this intermediate step
would be as fatal to the conception of Progress as the absence of the
last; because this last differs too widely from the first to admit
of any direct comparison with it. Right views upon the subject were
impossible therefore until full justice had been rendered to the Middle
Ages, which form at once the point of union and of separation between
ancient and modern history. Now it was quite impossible to do this as
long as the excitement of the first years of the revolution lasted. In
this respect the philosophical reaction, organized at the beginning
of our century by the great De Maistre, was of material assistance
in preparing the true theory of Progress. His school was of brief
duration, and it was no doubt animated by a retrograde spirit; but it
will always be ranked among the necessary antecedents of the Positive
system; although its works are now entirely superseded by the rise of
the new philosophy, which in a more perfect form has embodied all their
chief results.
What was required therefore for the discovery of Sociological laws, and
for the establishment upon these laws of a sound philosophical system,
was an intellect in the vigour of youth, imbued with all the ardour of
the revolutionary spirit, and yet spontaneously assimilating all that
was valuable in the attempts of the retrograde school to appreciate
the historical importance of the Middle Ages. In this way and in no
other could the true spirit of history arise. For that spirit consists
in the sense of human continuity, which had hitherto been felt by no
one, not even by my illustrious and unfortunate predecessor Condorcet.
Meantime the genius of Gall was completing the recent attempts to
systematize biology, by commencing the study of the internal functions
of the brain; as far at least as these could be understood from the
phenomena of individual as distinct from social development. And now
I have explained the series of social and intellectual conditions
by which the discovery of sociological laws, and consequently the
foundation of Positivism, was fixed for the precise date at which I
began my philosophical career: that is to say, one generation after
the progressive dictatorship of the Convention, and almost immediately
after the fall of the retrograde tyranny of Bonaparte.
Thus it appears that the revolutionary movement, and the long period
of reaction which succeeded it, were alike necessary, before the new
general doctrine could be distinctly conceived of as a whole. And if
this preparation was needed for the establishment of Positivism as a
philosophical system, far more needful was it for the recognition of
its social value. For it guaranteed free exposition and discussion of
opinion: and it led the public to look to Positivism as the system
which contained in germ the ultimate solution of social problems. This
is a point so obvious that we need not dwell upon it further.
Having satisfied ourselves of the dependence of Positivism upon the
first phase of the Revolution, we have now to consider it as the future
guide of the second phase.
[The constructive phase of
the Revolution. The first
attempts to construct
failed, being based on
destructive principles]
It is often supposed that the destruction of the old regime was brought
about by the Revolution. But history when carefully examined points to
a very different conclusion. It shows that the Revolution was not the
cause but the consequence of the utter decomposition of the mediaeval
system; a process which had been going on for five centuries throughout
Western Europe, and especially in France; spontaneously at first,
and afterwards in a more systematic way. The Revolution, far from
protracting the negative movement of previous centuries, was a bar to
its further extension. It was a final outbreak in which men showed
their irrevocable purpose of abandoning the old system altogether,
and of proceeding at once to the task of entire reconstruction. The
most conclusive proof of this intention was given by the abolition of
royalty; which had been the rallying point of all the decaying remnants
of the old French constitution. But with this exception, which only
occupied the Convention during its first sitting, the constructive
tendencies of the movement were apparent from its outset; and they
showed themselves still more clearly as soon as the republican spirit
had become predominant. It is obvious, however, that strong as these
tendencies may have been, the first period of the Revolution produced
results of an extremely negative and destructive kind. In fact the
movement was in this respect a failure. This is partly to be attributed
to the pressing necessities of the hard struggle for national
independence which France maintained so gloriously against the combined
attacks of the retrograde nations of Europe. But it is far more largely
owing to the purely critical character of the metaphysical doctrines by
which the revolutionary spirit was at that time directed.
The negative and the positive movements which have been going on in
Western Europe since the close of the Middle Ages, have been of course
connected with each other. But the former has necessarily advanced
with greater rapidity than the latter. The old system had so entirely
declined, that a desire for social regeneration had become general,
before the groundwork of the new system had been sufficiently completed
for its true character to be understood. As we have just seen, the
doctrine by which social regeneration is now to be directed could
not have arisen previously to the Revolution. The impulse which the
Revolution gave to thought was indispensable to its formation. Here
then was an insurmountable fatality by which men were forced to make
use of the critical principles which had been found serviceable in
former struggles, as the only available instruments of construction.
As soon as the old order had once been fairly abandoned, there was
of course no utility whatever in the negative philosophy. But its
doctrines had become familiar to men’s minds, and its motto of
‘Liberty and Equality’, was at that time the one most compatible with
social progress. Thus the first stage of the revolutionary movement
was accomplished under the influence of principles that had become
obsolete, and that were quite inadequate to the new task required of
them.
For constructive purposes the revolutionary philosophy was valueless;
except so far as it put forward a vague programme of the political
future founded on sentiment rather than conviction, and unaccompanied
by any explanation of the right mode of realizing it. In default of
organic principles the doctrines of the critical school were employed:
and the result speedily showed their inherent tendency to anarchy; a
tendency as perilous to the germs of the new order as to the ruins
of the old. The experiment was tried once for all, and it left such
ineffaceable memories that it is not probable that any serious attempt
will be made to repeat it. The incapacity for construction inherent in
the doctrine in which the revolutionary spirit had embodied itself was
placed beyond the reach of doubt. The result was to impress every one
with the urgent necessity for social renovation; but the principles of
that renovation were still left undetermined.
[Counter-revolution from
1794 to 1830]
In this condition of philosophical and political opinion, the necessity
of Order was felt to be paramount, and a long period of reaction
ensued. Dating from the official Deism introduced by Robespierre, it
reached its height under the aggressive system of Bonaparte, and it was
feebly protracted, in spite of the peace of 1815, by his insignificant
successors. The only permanent result of this period was the historical
and doctrinal evidence brought forward by De Maistre and his school,
of the social inutility of modern metaphysics, while at the same time
their intellectual weakness was being proved by the successful attempts
of Cabanis, and still more of Gall, to extend the Positive method to
the highest biological questions. In all other respects this elaborate
attempt to prevent the final emancipation of Humanity proved a complete
failure; in fact, it led to a revival of the instinct of Progress.
Strong antipathies were roused everywhere by these fruitless efforts
at reconstructing a system which had become so entirely obsolete, that
even those who were labouring to rebuild it no longer understood its
character or the conditions of its existence.
A re-awakening of the revolutionary spirit was thus inevitable; and it
took place as soon as peace was established, and the chief upholder
of the retrograde system had been removed. The doctrines of negation
were called back to life; but very little illusion now remained as
to their capacity for organizing. In want of something better, men
accepted them as a means of resisting retrograde principles, just as
these last had owed their apparent success to the necessity of checking
the tendency to anarchy. Amidst these fresh debates on worn-out
subjects, the public soon became aware that a final solution of the
question had not yet arisen even in germ. It therefore concerned itself
for little except the maintenance of Order and Liberty; conditions
as indispensable for the free action of philosophy as for material
prosperity. The whole position was most favourable for the construction
of a definite solution; and it was, in fact, during the last phase of
the retrograde movement that the elementary principle of a solution
was furnished, by my discovery, in 1822, of the two-fold law of
intellectual development.
[Political stagnation
between 1830 and 1848]
The apparent indifference of the public, to whom all the existing
parties seemed equally devoid of insight into the political future,
was at last mistaken by a blind government for tacit consent to its
unwise schemes. The cause of Progress was in danger. Then came the
memorable crisis of 1830, by which the system of reaction, introduced
thirty-six years previously, was brought to an end. The convictions
which that system inspired were indeed so superficial, that its
supporters came of their own accord to disavow them, and to uphold in
their own fashion the chief revolutionary doctrines. These again were
abandoned by their previous supporters on their accession to power.
When the history of these times is written, nothing will give a clearer
view of the revulsion of feeling on both sides, than the debates which
took place on Liberty of Education. Within a period of twenty years,
it was alternately demanded and refused by both; and this in behalf of
the same principles, as they were called, though it was in reality a
question of interest rather than principle on either side.
All previous convictions being thus thoroughly upset, more room was
left for the instinctive feeling of the public; and the question of
reconciling the spirit of Order with that of Progress now came into
prominence. It was the most important of all problems, and it was now
placed in its true light. But this only made the absence of a solution
more manifest; and the principle of the solution existed nowhere but in
Positivism, which as yet was immature. All the opinions of the day had
become alike utterly incompatible both with Order and with Progress.
The Conservative school undertook to reconcile the two; but it had no
constructive power; and the only result of its doctrine was to give
equal encouragement to anarchy and to reaction, so as to be able always
to neutralize the one by the other. The establishment of Constitutional
Monarchy was now put forward as the ultimate issue of the great
Revolution. But no one could seriously place any real confidence in a
system so alien to the whole character of French history, offering as
it did nothing but a superficial and unwise imitation of a political
anomaly essentially peculiar to England.
The period then between 1830 and 1848 may be regarded as a natural
pause in the political movement. The reaction which succeeded the
original crisis had exhausted itself; but the final or organic phase
of the Revolution was still delayed for want of definite principles
to guide it. No conception had been formed of it, except by a small
number of philosophic minds who had taken their stand upon the
recently established laws of social science, and had found themselves
able, without recourse to any chimerical views, to gain some general
insight into the political future, of which Condorcet, my principal
predecessor, knew so little. But it was impossible for the regenerating
doctrine to spread more widely and to be accepted as the peaceful
solution of social problems, until a distinct refutation had been given
of the false assertion so authoritatively made that the parliamentary
system was the ultimate issue of the Revolution. This notion once
destroyed, the work of spiritual reorganization should be left entirely
to the free efforts of independent thinkers. In these respects our last
political change (1848) will have accomplished all that is required.
[The present position,
1848-1850. Republicanism
involves the great principle
of subordinating Politics to
Morals]
Thanks to the instinctive sense and vigour of our working classes, the
reactionist leanings of the Orleanist government, which had become
hostile to the purpose for which it was originally instituted, have
at last brought about the final abolition of monarchy in France. The
prestige of monarchy had long been lost, and it now only impeded
Progress, without being of any real benefit to Order. By its fictitious
supremacy it directly hindered the work of spiritual reformation,
whilst the measure of real power which it possessed was insufficient to
control the wretched political agitation maintained by animosities of a
purely personal character.
Viewed negatively, the principle of Republicanism sums up the first
phase of the Revolution. It precludes the possibility of recurrence
to Royalism, which, ever since the second half of the reign of Louis
XIV, has been the rallying point of all reactionist tendencies.
Interpreting the principle in its positive sense, we may regard it as a
direct step towards the final regeneration of society. By consecrating
all human forces of whatever kind to the general service of the
community, republicanism recognizes the doctrine of subordinating
Politics to Morals. Of course it is as a feeling rather than as a
principle that this doctrine is at present adopted; but it could not
obtain acceptance in any other way; and even when put forward in a
more systematic shape, it is upon the aid of feeling that it will
principally rely, as I have shown in the previous chapter. In this
respect France has proved worthy of her position as the leader of the
great family of Western nations, and has in reality already entered
upon the normal state. Without the intervention of any theological
system, she has asserted the true principle on which society should
rest, a principle which originated in the Middle Ages under the impulse
of Catholicism; but for the general acceptance of which a sounder
philosophy and more suitable circumstances were necessary. The direct
tendency, then, of the French Republic is to sanction the fundamental
principle of Positivism, the preponderance, namely, of Feeling over
Intellect and Activity. Starting from this point, public opinion will
soon be convinced that the work of organizing society on republican
principles is one which can only be performed by the new philosophy.
[It gives prominence to the
problem of reconciling Order
and Progress]
The whole position brings into fuller prominence the fundamental
problem previously proposed, of reconciling Order and Progress. The
urgent necessity of doing so is acknowledged by all; but the utter
incapacity of any of the existing schools of opinion to realize it
becomes increasingly evident. The abolition of monarchy removes the
most important obstacle to social Progress: but at the same time it
deprives us of the only remaining guarantee for public Order. Thus the
time is doubly favourable to constructive tendencies; yet at present
there are no opinions which possess more than the purely negative value
of checking, and that very imperfectly, the error opposite to their
own. In a position which guarantees Progress and compromises Order, it
is naturally for the latter that the greatest anxiety is felt; and we
are still without any organ capable of systematically defending it. Yet
experience should have taught us how extremely fragile every government
must be which is purely material, that is, which is based solely upon
self-interest, and is destitute of sympathies and convictions. On
the other hand, spiritual order is not to be hoped for at present in
the absence of any doctrine which commands general respect. Even the
social instinct is a force on the political value of which we cannot
always rely: for when not based on some definite principle, it not
unfrequently becomes source of disturbance. Hence we are driven back
to the continuance of a material system of government, although its
inadequacy is acknowledged by all. In a republic, however, such a
government cannot employ its most efficient instrument, corruption.
It has to resort instead to repressive measures of a more or less
transitory kind, every time that the danger of anarchy becomes too
threatening. These occasional measures, however, naturally proportion
themselves to the necessities of the case. Thus, though Order is
exposed to greater perils than Progress, it can count on more powerful
resources for its defence. Shortly after the publication of the first
edition of this work, the extraordinary outbreak of June, 1848, proved
that the republic could call into play, and, indeed, could push to
excess, in the cause of public Order, forces far greater than those
of the monarchy. Thus royalty no longer possesses that monopoly of
preserving Order, which has hitherto induced a few sincere and thinking
men to continue to support it; and henceforth the sole political
characteristic which it retains is that of obstructing Progress. And
yet by another reaction of this contradictory position of affairs,
the monarchical party seems at present to have become the organ of
resistance in behalf of material Order. Retrograde as its doctrines
are, yet from their still retaining a certain organic tendency, the
conservative instincts rally round them. To this the progressive
instincts offer no serious obstacle, their insufficiency for the
present needs being more or less distinctly recognized. It is not to
the monarchical party, however, that we must look for conservative
principles; for in this quarter they are wholly abandoned, and
unhesitating adoption of every revolutionary principle is resorted to
as a means of retaining power; so that the doctrines of the Revolution
would seem fated to close their existence in the retrograde camp.
So urgent is the need of Order that we are driven to accept for the
moment a party which has lost all its old convictions, and which
had apparently become extinct before the Republic began. Positivism
and Positivism alone can disentangle and terminate this anomalous
position. The principle on which it depends is manifestly this: As
long as Progress tends towards anarchy, so long will Order continue to
be retrograde. But the retrograde movement never really attains its
object: indeed its principles are always neutralized by inconsistent
concessions. Judged by the boastful language of its leaders, we might
imagine that it was destroying republicanism; whereas the movement
would not exist at all, but for the peculiar circumstances in which
we are placed; circumstances which are forced into greater prominence
by the foolish opposition of most of the authorities. As soon as the
instinct of political improvement has placed itself under systematic
guidance, its growth will bear down all resistance; and then the reason
of its present stagnation will be patent to all.
[It brings the metaphysical
revolutionary schools into
discredit]
And for this Theologism is, unawares, preparing the way. Its apparent
preponderance places Positivism in precisely that position which
I wished for ten years ago. The two organic principles can now be
brought side by side, and their relative strength tested, without the
complication of any metaphysical considerations. For the incoherence
of metaphysical systems is now recognized, and they are finally
decaying under the very political system which seemed at one time
likely to promote their acceptance. Construction is seen by all
to be the thing wanted: and men are rapidly becoming aware of the
utter hollowness of all schools which confine themselves to protests
against the institutions of theologism, while admitting its essential
principles. So defunct, indeed, have these schools become, that they
can no longer fulfil even their old office of destruction. This has
fallen now as an accessory task upon Positivism, which offers the only
systematic guarantee against retrogression as well as against anarchy.
Psychologists, strictly so called, have already for the most part
disappeared with the fall of constitutional monarchy; so close is the
relation between these two importations from Protestantism. It seemed
likely therefore that the Ideologists, their natural rivals, would
regain their influence with the people. But even they cannot win back
the confidence reposed in them during the great Revolution, because
the doctrines in virtue of which it was then given are now so utterly
exploded. The most advanced of their number, unworthy successors of
the school of Voltaire and Danton, have shown themselves thoroughly
incapable either morally or intellectually of directing the second
phase of the Revolution, which they are hardly able to distinguish
from the first phase. Formerly I had taken as their type a man of
far superior merit, the noble Armand Carrel, whose death was such a
grievous loss to the republican cause. But he was a complete exception
to the general rule. True republican convictions were impossible
with men who had been schooled in parliamentary intrigues, and who
had directed or aided the pertinacious efforts of the French press
to rehabilitate the name of Bonaparte. Their accession to power was
futile; for they could only maintain material order by calling in
the retrograde party; and they soon became mere auxiliaries of this
party, disgracefully abjuring all their philosophical convictions.
There is one proceeding which, though it is but an episode in the
course of events, will always remain as a test of the true character
of this unnatural alliance. I allude to the Roman expedition of 1849;
a detestable and contemptible act, for which just penalties will
speedily be imposed on all who were accessory to it; not to speak of
the damnatory verdict of history. But precisely the same hypocritical
opposition to progress has been exhibited by the other class of
Deists, the disciples, that is, of Rousseau, who profess to adopt
Robespierre’s policy. Having had no share in the government, they have
not so entirely lost their hold upon the people; but they are at the
present time totally devoid of political coherence. Their wild anarchy
is incompatible with the general tone of feeling maintained by the
industrial activity, the scientific spirit, and the esthetic culture of
modern life. These Professors of the Guillotine, as they may be called,
whose superficial sophisms would reduce exceptional outbreaks of
popular fury into a cold-blooded system, soon found themselves forced,
for the sake of popularity, to sanction the law which very properly
abolished capital punishment for political offences. In the same way
they are now obliged to disown the only real meaning of the red flag
which serves to distinguish their party, too vague as it is for any
other name. Equally wrong have they shown themselves in interpreting
the tendencies of the working classes, from being so entirely taken
up with questions of abstract rights. The people have allowed these
rights to be taken from them without a struggle whenever the cause of
Order has seemed to require it; yet they still persist, mechanically,
in maintaining that it is on questions of this sort that the solution
of all our difficulties depends. Taking for their political ideal a
short and anomalous period of our history which is never likely to
recur, they are always attempting to suppress liberty for the sake of
what they call progress. In a time of unchangeable peace they are the
only real supporters of war. Their conception of the organization of
labour is simply to destroy the industrial hierarchy of capitalist
and workman established in the Middle Ages; and, in fact, in every
respect these sophistical anarchists are utterly out of keeping with
the century in which they live. There are some, it is true, who still
retain a measure of influence with the working classes, incapable and
unworthy though they be of their position. But their credit is rapidly
declining; and it is not likely to become dangerous at a time when
political enthusiasm is no longer to be won by metaphysical prejudices.
The only effect really produced by this party of disorder, is to
serve as a bugbear for the benefit of the retrograde party, who thus
obtain official support from the middle class, in a way which is quite
contrary to all the principles and habits of that class. It is very
improbable that these foolish levellers will ever succeed to power.
Should they do so, however, their reign will be short, and will soon
result in their final extinction; because it will convince the people
of their profound incapacity to direct the regeneration of Europe. The
position of affairs, therefore, is now distinct and clear; and it is
leading men to withdraw their confidence from all metaphysical schools,
as they had already withdrawn it from theology. In this general
discredit of all the old systems the way becomes clear for Positivism,
the only school which harmonizes with the real tendencies as well as
with the essential needs of the nineteenth century.
[And it proves to all
the necessity of a true
spiritual power; a body of
thinkers whose business
is to study and to teach
principles, holding aloof
from political action]
In this explanation of the recent position of French affairs one point
yet remains to be insisted on. We have seen from the general course
of the philosophical, and yet more of the political, movement, the
urgent necessity for a universal doctrine capable of checking erroneous
action, and of avoiding or moderating popular outbreaks. But there is
another need equally manifest, the need of a spiritual power, without
which it would be utterly impossible to bring our philosophy to bear
upon practical life. Widely divergent as the various metaphysical
sects are, there is one point in which they all spontaneously agree;
that is, in repudiating the distinction between temporal and spiritual
authority. This has been the great revolutionary principle ever
since the fourteenth century, and more especially since the rise of
Protestantism. It originated in repugnance to the mediaeval system.
The so-called philosophers of our time, whether psychologists or
ideologists, have, like their Greek predecessors, always aimed at a
complete concentration of all social powers; and they have even spread
this delusion among the students of special sciences. At present there
is no appreciation, except in the Positive system, of that instinctive
sagacity which led all the great men of the Middle Ages to institute,
for the first time, the separation of moral from political authority.
It was a masterpiece of human wisdom; but it was premature, and could
not be permanently successful at a time when men were still governed on
theological principles, and practical life still retained its military
character. This separation of powers, on which the final organization
of society will principally depend, is understood and valued nowhere
but in the new school of philosophy, if we except the unconscious and
tacit admiration for it which still exists in the countries from which
Protestantism has been excluded. From the outset of the Revolution,
the pride of theorists has always made them wish to become socially
despotic; a state of things to which they have ever looked forward as
their political ideal. Public opinion has by this time grown far too
enlightened to allow any practical realization of a notion at once
so chimerical and so retrograde. But public opinion not being as yet
sufficiently organized, efforts in this direction are constantly being
made. The longing among metaphysical reformers for practical as well
as theoretical supremacy is now greater than ever; because, from the
changed state of affairs, their ambition is no longer limited to mere
administrative functions. Their various views diverge so widely, and
all find so little sympathy in the public, that there is not much
fear of their ever being able to check free discussion to any serious
extent, by giving legal sanction to their own particular doctrine. But
quite enough has been attempted to convince every one how essentially
despotic every theory of society must be which opposes this fundamental
principle of modern polity, the permanent separation of spiritual
from temporal power. The disturbances caused by metaphysical ambition
corroborate, then, the view urged so conclusively by the adherents of
the new school, that this division of powers is equally essential to
Order and to Progress. If Positivist thinkers continue to withstand
all temptations to mix actively in politics, and go on quietly with
their own work amidst the unmeaning agitation around them, they will
ultimately make the impartial portion of the public familiar with
this great conception. It will henceforth be judged irrespectively of
the religious doctrines with which it was originally connected. Men
will involuntarily contrast it with other systems, and will see more
and more clearly that Positive principles afford the only basis for
true freedom as well as for true union. They alone can tolerate full
discussion, because they alone rest upon solid proof. Men’s practical
wisdom, guided by the peculiar nature of our political position, will
react strongly upon philosophers, and keep them strictly to their
sphere of moral and intellectual influence. The slightest tendency
towards the assumption of political power will be checked, and the
desire for it will be considered as a certain sign of mental weakness,
and indeed of moral deficiency. Now that royalty is abolished, all
true thinkers are secure of perfect freedom of thought, and even of
expression, as long as they abide by the necessary conditions of
public order. Royalty was the last remnant of the system of castes,
which gave the monopoly of deciding on important social questions to
a special family; its abolition completes the process of theological
emancipation. Of course the magistrates of a republic may show despotic
tendencies; but they can never become very dangerous where power is
held on so brief a tenure, and where, even when concentrated in a
single person, it emanates from suffrage, incompetent as that may be.
It is easy for the Positivist to show that these functionaries know
very little more than their constituents of the logical and scientific
conditions necessary for the systematic working out of moral and social
doctrines. Such authorities, though devoid of any spiritual sanction,
may, however, command obedience in the name of Order. But they can
never be really respected, unless they adhere scrupulously to their
temporal functions, without claiming the least authority over thought.
Even before the central power falls into the hands of men really fit to
wield it, the republican character of our government will have forced
this conviction upon a nation that has now got rid of all political
fanaticism, whether of a retrograde or anarchical kind. And the
conviction is the more certain to arise, because practical authorities
will become more and more absorbed in the maintenance of material
order, and will therefore leave the question of spiritual order to the
unrestricted efforts of thinkers. It is neither by accident nor by
personal influence that I have myself always enjoyed so large a measure
of freedom in writing, and subsequently in public lectures, and this
under governments all of which were more or less oppressive. Every
true philosopher will receive the same licence, if, like myself, he
offers the intellectual and moral guarantees which the public and the
civil power are fairly entitled to expect from the systematic organs of
Humanity. The necessity of controlling levellers may lead to occasional
acts of unwise violence. But I am convinced that respect will always be
shown to constructive thinkers, and that they will soon be called in to
the assistance of public order. For order will not be able to exist
much longer without the sanction of some rational principle.
[The need of a spiritual
power is common to the whole
Republic of Western Europe]
The result, then, of the important political changes which have
recently taken place is this. The second phase of the Revolution, which
hitherto has been restricted to a few advanced minds, is now entered
by the public, and men are rapidly forming juster views of its true
character. It is becoming recognized that the only firm basis for a
reform of our political institutions, is a complete reorganization of
opinion and of life; and the way is open for the new religious doctrine
to direct this work. I have thus explained the way in which the social
mission of Positivism connects itself with the spontaneous changes
which are taking place in France, the centre of the revolutionary
movement. But it would be a mistake to suppose that France will be the
only scene of these reorganizing efforts. Judging on sound historical
principles, we cannot doubt that they will embrace the whole extent of
Western Europe.
During the five centuries of revolutionary transition which have
elapsed since the Middle Ages, we have lost sight of the fact that
in all fundamental questions the Western nations form one political
system. It was under Catholic Feudalism that they were first united; a
union for which their incorporation into the Roman empire had prepared
them, and which was finally organized by the incomparable genius of
Charlemagne. In spite of national differences, embittered as they were
afterwards by theological discord, this great Republic has in modern
times shown intellectual and social growth both in the positive and
negative direction, to which other portions of the human race, even
in Europe, can show no parallel. The rupture of Catholicism, and
the decline of Chivalry, at first seriously impaired this feeling
of relationship. But it soon began to show itself again under new
forms. It rests now, though the basis is inadequate, upon the feeling
of community in industrial development, in esthetic culture, and in
scientific discovery. Amidst the disorganized state of political
affairs, which have obviously been tending towards some radical change,
this similarity in civilization has produced a growing conviction
that we are all participating in one and the same social movement;
a movement limited as yet to our own family of nations. The first
step in the great crisis was necessarily taken by the French nation,
because it was better prepared than any other. It was there that the
old order of things had been most thoroughly uprooted, and that most
had been done in working out the materials of the new. But the strong
sympathies which the outbreak of our revolution aroused in every part
of Western Europe, showed that our sister-nations were only granting
us the honourable post of danger in a movement in which all the nobler
portion of Humanity was to participate. And this was the feeling
proclaimed by the great republican assembly in the midst of their war
of defence. The military extravagances which followed, and which form
the distinguishing feature of the counter-revolution, of course checked
the feeling of union on both sides. But so deeply was it rooted in
all the antecedents of modern history that peace soon restored it to
life, in spite of the pertinacious efforts of all parties interested in
maintaining unnatural separation between France and other countries.
What greatly facilitates this tendency is the decline of every form
of theology, which removes the chief source of former disagreement.
During the last phase of the counter-revolution, and still more during
the long pause in the political movement which followed, each member
of the group entered upon a series of revolutionary efforts more or
less resembling those of the central nation. And our recent political
changes cannot but strengthen this tendency; though of course with
nations less fully prepared the results of these efforts have at
present been less important than in France. Meanwhile it is evident
that this uniform condition of internal agitation gives increased
security for peace, by which its extension had been originally
facilitated. And thus, although there is no organized international
union as was the case in the Middle Ages, yet the pacific habits and
intellectual culture of modern life have already been sufficiently
diffused to call out an instinct of fraternity stronger than any that
has ever existed before. It is strong enough to prevent the subject
of social regeneration from being ever regarded as a merely national
question.
And this is the point of view which displays the character of the
second phase of the Revolution in its truest light. The first phase,
although in its results advantageous to the other nations, was
necessarily conducted as if peculiar to France, because no other
country was ripe for the original outbreak. Indeed French nationality
was stimulated by the necessity of resisting the counter-revolutionary
coalition. But the final and constructive phase which has begun now
that the national limits of the crisis have been reached, should always
be regarded as common to the whole of Western Europe. For it consists
essentially in spiritual reorganization; and the need of this in one
shape or other presses already with almost equal force upon each of the
five nations who make up the great Western family. Conversely, the
more occidental the character of the reforming movement, the greater
will be the prominence given to intellectual and moral regeneration
as compared with mere modifications of government, in which of course
there must be very considerable national differences. The first social
need of Western Europe is community in belief and in habits of life;
and this must be based upon a uniform system of education controlled
and applied by a spiritual power that shall be accepted by all. This
want satisfied, the reconstruction of governments may be carried out in
accordance with the special requirements of each nation. Difference in
this respect is legitimate: it will not affect the essential unity of
the Positivist Republic, which will be bound together by more complete
and durable ties than the Catholic Republic of the Middle Ages.
Not only then do we find from the whole condition of Western Europe
that the movement of opinion transcends in importance all political
agitation; but we find that everything points to the necessity of
establishing a spiritual power, as the sole means of directing
this free yet systematic reform of opinion and of life with the
requisite consistency and largeness of view. We now see that the old
revolutionary prejudice of confounding temporal and spiritual power
is directly antagonistic to social regeneration, although it once
aided the preparation for it. In the first place it stimulates the
sense of nationality which ought to be subordinate to larger feelings
of international fraternity. And at the same time, with the view of
satisfying the conditions of uniformity which are so obviously required
for the solution of the common problem, it induces efforts at forcible
incorporation of all the nations into one, efforts as dangerous as
they are fruitless.
[This Republic consists
of the Italian, Spanish,
British, and German
populations, grouped round
France as their centre]
My work on Positive Philosophy contains a detailed historical
explanation of what I mean by the expression, Western Europe. But the
conception is one of such importance in relation to the questions of
our time, that I shall now proceed to enumerate and arrange in their
order the elements of which this great family of nations consists.
Since the fall of the Roman empire, and more especially from the time
of Charlemagne, France has always been the centre, socially as well as
geographically, of this Western region which may be called the nucleus
of Humanity. On the one great occasion of united political action on
the part of Western Europe, that is, in the crusades of the eleventh
and twelfth century, it was evidently France that took the initiative.
It is true that when the decomposition of Catholicism began to assume a
systematic form, the centre of the movement for two centuries shifted
its position. It was Germany that gave birth to the metaphysical
principles of negation. Their first political application was in the
Dutch and English revolutions, which, incomplete as they were, owing to
insufficient intellectual preparation, yet served as preludes to the
great final crisis. These preludes were most important, as showing the
real social tendency of the critical doctrines. But it was reserved for
France to co-ordinate these doctrines into a consistent system and to
propagate them successfully. France then resumed her position as the
principal centre in which the great moral and political questions were
to be worked out. And this position she will in all probability retain,
as in fact it is only a recurrence to the normal organization of the
Western Republic, which had been temporarily modified to meet special
conditions. A fresh displacement of the centre of the social movement
is not to be expected, unless in a future too distant to engage our
attention. It can indeed only be the result of wide extension of our
advanced civilization beyond European limits, as will be explained in
the conclusion of this work.
North and south of this natural centre, we find two pairs of nations,
between which France will always form an intermediate link, partly from
her geographical position, and also from her language and manners. The
first pair is for the most part Protestant. It comprises, first, the
great Germanic body, with the numerous nations that may be regarded
as its offshoots; especially Holland, which, since the Middle Ages,
has been in every respect the most advanced portion of Germany.
Secondly, Great Britain, with which may be classed the United States,
notwithstanding their present attitude of rivalry. The second pair is
exclusively Catholic. It consists of the great Italian nationality,
which in spite of political divisions has always maintained its
distinct character; and of the population of the Spanish Peninsula
(for Portugal, sociologically considered, is not to be separated from
Spain), which has so largely increased the Western family by its
colonies. To complete the conception of this group of advanced nations,
we must add two accessory members, Greece and Poland, countries which,
though situated in Eastern Europe, are connected with the West, the
one by ancient history, the other by modern. Besides these, there are
various intermediate nationalities which I need not now enumerate,
connecting or demarcating the more important branches of the family.
In this vast Republic it is that the new philosophy is to find its
sphere of intellectual and moral action. It will endeavour so to modify
the initiative of the central nation, by the reacting influences
of the other four, as to give increased efficiency to the general
movement. It is a task eminently calculated to test the social
capabilities of Positivism, and for which no other system is qualified.
The metaphysical spirit is as unfit for it as the theological. The
rupture of the mediaeval system is due to the decadence of theology:
but the direct agency in the rupture was the solvent force of the
metaphysical spirit. Neither the one nor the other then is likely to
recombine elements, the separation of which is principally due to
their own conceptions. It is entirely to the spontaneous action of the
Positive spirit that we owe those new though insufficient links of
union, whether industrial, artistic, or scientific, which, since the
close of the Middle Ages, have been leading us more and more decidedly
to a reconstruction of the Western alliance. And now that Positivism
has assumed its matured and systematic form, its competence for the
work is even more unquestionable. It alone can effectually remove the
national antipathies which still exist. But it will do this without
impairing the natural qualities of any of them. Its object is by a wise
combination of these qualities, to develop under a new form the feeling
of a common Occidentality.
[Relation of Positivism
to the mediaeval system,
to which we owe the first
attempt to separate
spiritual from temporal
power]
By extending the social movement to its proper limits, we thus exhibit
on a larger scale the same features that were noticed when France
alone was being considered. Abroad or at home, every great social
problem that arises proves that the object of the second revolutionary
phase is a reorganization of principles and of life. By this means
a body of public opinion will be formed of sufficient force to lead
gradually to the growth of new political institutions. These will be
adapted to the special requirements of each nation, under the general
superintendence of the spiritual power, from whom our fundamental
principles will have proceeded. The general spirit of these principles
is essentially historical, whereas the tendency of the negative phase
of the revolution was anti-historical. Without blind hatred of the
past, men would never have had sufficient energy to abandon the old
system. But henceforth the best evidence of having attained complete
emancipation will be the rendering full justice to the past in all its
phases. This is the most characteristic feature of that relative spirit
which distinguishes Positivism. The surest sign of superiority, whether
in persons or systems, is fair appreciation of opponents. And this
must always be the tendency of social science when rightly understood,
since its prevision of the future is avowedly based upon systematic
examination of the past. It is the only way in which the free and yet
universal adoption of general principles of social reconstruction
can ever be possible. Such reconstruction, viewed by the light of
Sociology, will be regarded as a necessary link in the series of human
development; and thus many confused and incoherent notions suggested by
the arbitrary beliefs hitherto prevalent will finally disappear. The
growth of public opinion in this respect is aided by the increasing
strength of social feeling. Both combine to encourage the historical
spirit which distinguishes the second period of the Revolution, as we
see indicated already in so many of the popular sympathies of the day.
Acting on this principle, Positivists will always acknowledge the
close relation between their own system and the memorable effort of
mediaeval Catholicism. In offering for the acceptance of Humanity a
new organization of life, we would not dissociate it with all that
has gone before. On the contrary, it is our boast that we are but
proposing for her maturity the accomplishment of the noble effort of
her youth, an effort made when intellectual and social conditions
precluded the possibility of success. We are too full of the future to
fear any serious charge of retrogression towards the past. It would be
strange were such a charge to proceed from those of our opponents whose
political ideal is that amalgamation of temporal and spiritual power
which was adopted by the theocratic or military systems of antiquity.
The separation of these powers in the Middle Ages is the greatest
advance ever yet made in the theory of social Order. It was imperfectly
effected, because the time was not ripe for it; but enough was done
to show the object of the separation, and some of its principal
results were partially arrived at. It originated the fundamental
doctrine of modern social life, the subordination of Politics to
Morals; a doctrine which in spite of the most obstinate resistance
has survived the decline of the religion which first proclaimed it.
We see it now sanctioned by a republican government which has shaken
off the fetters of that religion more completely than any other. A
further result of the separation is the keen sense of personal honour,
combined with general fraternity, which distinguishes Western nations,
especially those who have been preserved from Protestantism. To the
same source is due the general feeling that men should be judged
by their intellectual and moral worth, irrespectively of social
position, yet without upsetting that subordination of classes which
is rendered necessary by the requirements of practical life. And this
has accustomed all classes to free discussion of moral and even of
political questions; since every one feels it a right and a duty to
judge actions and persons by the general principles which a common
system of education has inculcated alike on all. I need not enlarge on
the value of the mediaeval church in organizing the political system
of Western Europe, in which there was no other recognized principle
of union. All these social results are usually attributed to the
excellence of the Christian doctrine; but history when fairly examined
shows that the source from which they are principally derived is the
Catholic principle of separating the two powers. For these effects
are nowhere visible except in the countries where this separation
has been effected, although a similar code of morals and indeed a
faith identically the same have been received elsewhere. Besides,
although sanctioned by the general tone of modern life, they have been
neutralized to a considerable extent by the decline of the Catholic
organization, and this especially in the countries where the greatest
efforts have been made to restore the doctrine to its original purity
and power.
In these respects Positivism has already appreciated Catholicism more
fully than any of its own defenders, not even excepting De Maistre
himself, as indeed some of the more candid organs of the retrograde
school have allowed. But the merit of Catholicism does not merely
depend on the fact that it forms a most important link in the series
of human development. What adds to the glory of its efforts is that,
as history clearly proves, they were in advance of their time. The
political failure of Catholicism resulted from the imperfection of
its doctrines, and the resistance of the social medium in which it
worked. It is true that Monotheism is far more compatible with the
separation of powers than Polytheism. But from the absolute character
of every kind of theology, there was always a tendency in the mediaeval
system to degenerate into mere theocracy. In fact, the proximate
cause of its decline was the increased development of this tendency
in the fourteenth century, and the resistance which it provoked
among the kings, who stood forward to represent the general voice of
condemnation. Again, though separation of powers was less difficult
in the defensive system of mediaeval warfare than in the aggressive
system of antiquity, yet it is thoroughly repugnant to the military
spirit in all its phases, because adverse to that concentration of
authority which is requisite in war. And thus it was never thoroughly
realized, except in the conceptions of a few leading men among both the
spiritual and temporal class. Its brief success was principally caused
by a temporary combination of circumstances. It was for the most part a
condition of very unstable equilibrium, oscillating between theocracy
and empire.
[But the mediaeval attempt
was premature; and
Positivism will renew and
complete it]
But Positive civilization will accomplish what in the Middle Ages
could only be attempted. We are aided, not merely by the example of
the Middle Ages, but by the preparatory labours of the last five
centuries. New modes of thought have arisen, and practical life has
assumed new phases; and all are alike tending towards the separation
of powers. What in the Middle Ages was but dimly foreseen by a few
ardent and aspiring minds, becomes now an inevitable and obvious
result, instinctively felt and formally recognized by all. From the
intellectual point of view it is nothing more than the distinction
between theory and practice; a distinction which is already admitted
more or less formally throughout civilized Europe in subjects of less
importance; which therefore it would be unreasonable to abandon in the
most difficult of all arts and sciences. Viewed socially, it implies
the separation of education from action; or of morals from politics;
and few would deny that the maintenance of this separation is one of
the greatest blessings of our progressive civilization. The distinction
is of equal importance to morality and to liberty. It is the only way
of bringing opinion and conduct under the control of principle; for
the most obvious application of a principle has little weight when
it is merely an act of obedience to a special command. Taking the
more general question of bringing our political forces into harmony,
it seems clear that theoretical and practical power are so totally
distinct in origin and operation, whether in relation to the heart, or
intellect, or character, that the functions of counsel and of command
ought never to belong to the same organs. All attempts to unite them
are at once retrograde and visionary, and if successful would lead to
the intolerable government of mediocrities equally unfit for either
kind of power. But as I shall show in the following chapters this
principle of separation will soon find increasing support among women
and the working classes; the two elements of society in which we find
the greatest amount of good sense and right feeling.
Modern society is, in fact, already ripe for the adoption of this
fundamental principle of polity; and the opposition to it proceeds
almost entirely from its connexion with the doctrines of the mediaeval
church which have now become deservedly obsolete. But there will be an
end of these revolutionary prejudices among all impartial observers as
soon as the principle is seen embodied in Positivism, the only doctrine
which is wholly disconnected with Theology. All human conceptions,
all social improvements originated under theological influence, as we
see proved clearly in many of the humblest details of life. But this
has never prevented Humanity from finally appropriating to herself
the results of the creeds which she has outgrown. And so it will be
with this great political principle; it has already become obsolete
except for the Positive school, which has verified inductively all
the minor truths implied in it. The only direct attacks against it
come from the metaphysicians, whose ambitious aspirations for absolute
authority would be thwarted by it. It is they who attempt to fasten
on Positivism the stigma of theocracy: a strange and in most cases
disingenuous reproach, seeing that Positivists are distinguished from
their opponents by discarding all beliefs which supersede the necessity
for discussion. The fact is that serious disturbances will soon be
caused by the pertinacious efforts of these adherents of pedantocracy
to regulate by law what ought to be left to moral influences; and then
the public will become more alive to the necessity of the Positivist
doctrine of systematically separating political from moral government.
The latter should be understood to rely exclusively on the forces of
conviction and persuasion; its influence on action being simply that
of counsel; whereas the former employs direct compulsion, based upon
superiority of physical force.
We now understand what is meant by the constructive character of
the second revolutionary phase. It implies a union of the social
aspirations of the Middle Ages with the wise political instincts of the
Convention. In the interval of these two periods the more advanced
nations were without any systematic organization, and were abandoned
to the two-fold process of transition, which was decomposing the old
order and preparing the new. Both these preliminary steps are now
sufficiently accomplished. The desire for social regeneration has
become too strong to be resisted, and a philosophical system capable
of directing it has already arisen. We may, therefore, recommence on a
better intellectual and social basis the great effort of Catholicism,
to bring Western Europe to a social system of peaceful activity
and intellectual culture, in which Thought and Action should be
subordinated to universal Love. Reconstruction will begin at the points
where demolition began previously. The dissolution of the old organism
began in the fourteenth century by the destruction of its international
character. Conversely, reorganization begins by satisfying the
intellectual and mental wants common to the five Western nations.
[The Ethical system of
Positivism]
And here, since the object of this character is to explain the social
value of Positivism, I may show briefly that it leads necessarily to
the formation of a definite system of universal Morality; this being
the ultimate object of all Philosophy, and the starting-point of all
Polity. Since it is by its moral code that every spiritual power must
be principally tested, this will be the best mode of judging of the
relative merits of Positivism and Catholicism.
[Subjection of Self-love to
Social love is the great
ethical problem. The Social
state of itself favours
this result; but it may be
hastened by organized and
conscious effort]