CHAPTER V

THE RELATION OF POSITIVISM TO ART

[Positivism when complete

is as favourable to

imagination, as, when

incomplete, it was

unfavourable to it]

The essential principles and the social purpose of the only philosophy

by which the revolution can be brought to a close, are now before us.

We have seen too that energetic support from the People and cordial

sympathy from Women are necessary to bring this philosophic movement to

a practical result. One further condition yet remains. The view here

taken of human life as regenerated by this combination of efforts,

would be incomplete if it did not include an additional element,

with which Positivism, as I have now to show, is no less competent

to deal. We have spoken already of the place which Reason occupies

in our nature; its function being to subordinate itself to Feeling

for the better guidance of the Active powers. But in the normal state

of our nature it has also another function; that of regulating and

stimulating Imagination, without yielding passive obedience to it.

The esthetic faculties are far too important to be disregarded in the

normal state of Humanity; therefore they must not be omitted from

the system which aims to introduce that state. There is a strong but

groundless prejudice that in this respect at least Positivism will be

found wanting. Yet it furnishes, as may readily be shown, the only

true foundation of modern Art, which, since the Middle Ages, has been

cultivated without fixed principles or lofty purpose.

The reproach that Positivism is incompatible with Art arises simply

from the fact that almost every one is in the habit of confounding the

philosophy itself with the scientific studies on which it is based. The

charge only applies to the positive spirit in its preliminary phase of

disconnected specialities, a phase which scientific men of the present

day are making such mischievous efforts to prolong. Nothing can be

more fatal to the fine arts than the narrow views, the overstraining

of analysis, the abuse of the reasoning faculty, which characterize

the scientific investigation of the present day; to say nothing of

their injurious effects upon moral progress, the first condition of

esthetic development. But all these defects necessarily disappear when

the Positive spirit becomes more comprehensive and systematic; which is

the case as soon as it embraces the higher subjects in the encyclopædic

scale of sciences. When it reaches the study of Society, which is

its true and ultimate sphere, it has to deal with the conceptions of

Poetry, as well as with the operations of Feeling: since its object

must then be to give a faithful and complete representation of human

nature under its individual, and still more under its social, aspects.

Hitherto Positive science has avoided these two subjects: but their

charm is such that, when the study of them has been once begun, it

cannot fail to be prosecuted with ardour; and their proper place in the

constitution of Man and of Society will then be recognized. Reason has

been divorced for a long time from Feeling and Imagination. But, with

the more complete and systematic culture here proposed, they will be

re-united.

To those who have studied the foregoing chapters with attention,

the view that the new philosophy is unfavourable to Art, will be

obviously unjust. Supposing even that there were no important functions

specially assigned to the fine arts in the Positive system, yet

indirectly, the leading principles of the system, its social purpose,

and the influences by which it is propagated, are all most conducive

to the interests of Art. To demonstrate, as Positivism alone of all

philosophies has done, the subordination of the intellect to the heart,

and the dependence of the unity of human nature upon Feeling, is to

stimulate the esthetic faculties, because Feeling is their true source.

To propound a social doctrine by which the Revolution is brought to a

close, is to remove the principal obstacle to the growth of Art, and

to open a wide field and a firm foundation for it, by establishing

fixed principles and modes of life; in the absence of which Poetry can

have nothing noble to narrate or to inspire. To exhort the working

classes to seek happiness in calling their moral and mental powers

into constant exercise, and to give them an education, the principal

basis of which is esthetic, is to place Art under the protection of its

natural patrons.

But one consideration is of itself sufficient for our purpose. We have

but to look at the influence of Positivism upon Women, at its tendency

to elevate the social dignity of their sex, while at the same time

strengthening all family ties. Now of all the elements of which society

is constituted, Woman certainly is the most esthetic, alike from her

nature and her position; and both her position and her nature are

raised and strengthened by Positivism. We receive from women, not only

our first ideas of Goodness, but our first sense of Beauty; for their

own sensibility to it is equalled by their power of imparting it to

others. We see in them every kind of beauty combined; beauty of mind

and character as well as of person. All their actions, even those which

are unconscious, exhibit a spontaneous striving for ideal perfection.

And their life at home, when free from the necessity of labouring for

a livelihood, favours this tendency. Living as they do for affection,

they cannot fail to feel aspirations for all that is highest, in the

world around them first, and then also in the world of imagination.

A doctrine, then, which regards women as the originators of moral

influence in society, and which places the groundwork of education

under their charge, cannot be suspected of being unfavourable to Art.

Leaving these prejudices, we may now examine the mode in which the

incorporation of Art into the modern social system will be promoted by

Positivism. In the first place systematic principles of Art will be

laid down, and its proper function clearly defined. The result of this

will be to call out new and powerful means of expression, and also new

organs. I may observe that the position which Art will occupy in the

present movement of social regeneration is already an inauguration of

its final function; as we saw in the analogous cases of the position of

women and of the working classes.

[Esthetic talent is for the

adornment of life, not for

its government]

But before touching on this question it will be well to rectify a

prevalent misconception on the subject, one of the many consequences

of our mental and moral anarchy. I refer to the exaggeration of the

influence of Art; an error which, if uncorrected, would vitiate all our

views with regard to it.

All poets of real genius, from Homer to Corneille, have always

considered their work to be that of beautifying human life, and so far,

of elevating it. Government of human life they had never supposed to

fall within their province. Indeed no sane man would lay it down as a

proposition that Imagination should control the other mental faculties.

It would imply that the normal condition of the intellect was insanity;

insanity being definable as that state of mind in which subjective

inspirations are stronger than objective judgments. It is a static law

of our nature, which has never been permanently suspended, that the

faculties of Representation and Expression should be subordinate to

those of Conception and Co-ordination. Even in cerebral disturbances

the law holds good. The relation with the external world is perverted,

but the original correlation of the internal mental functions remains

unaffected.

The foolish vanity of the later poets of antiquity led some of them

into errors much resembling those which now prevail on this point.

Still in Polytheistic society artists were at no time looked upon

as the leading class, notwithstanding the esthetic character of

Greek and Roman religion. If proofs were necessary, Homer’s poems,

especially the Odyssey, would show how secondary the influence of

the fine arts was upon society, even when the priesthood had ceased

to control them. Plato’s Utopia, written when Polytheism was in its

decline, represented a state in which the interference of poets was

systematically prevented. Mediaeval Monotheism was still less disposed

to overrate the importance of Art, though its true value was recognized

more generally than it had ever been before. But with the decline

of Catholicism, germs of errors showed themselves, from which even

the extraordinary genius of Dante was not free. The revolutionary

influences of the last five centuries have developed these errors into

the delirium of self-conceit exhibited by the poets and literary men

of our time. Theology having arrived at its extreme limits before

any true conception of the Positive state could arise, the negative

condition of the Western Republic became aggravated to an unheard-of

extent. Rules and institutions, which had formerly controlled the

most headstrong ambition, fell rapidly into discredit. And as the

principles of social order disappeared, artists and especially poets,

the leading class among them, stimulated by the applause which they

received from their uninstructed audience, fell into the error of

seeking political influence. Incompatible as all mere criticism must

be with true poetry, modern Art since the fourteenth century has

participated more and more actively in the destruction of the old

system. Until, however, Negativism had received its distinct shape

and character from the revolutions of the sixteenth and seventeenth

centuries, the influence of Art for destructive purposes was secondary

to that exercised by metaphysicians and legists. But in the eighteenth

century, when negativism began to be propagated boldly in a systematic

form, the case was changed, and literary ambition asserted itself more

strongly. The speculative thinkers who had hitherto formed the vanguard

of the destructive movement, were replaced by mere litterateurs, men

whose talents were of a poetical rather than philosophical kind, but

who had, intellectually speaking, no real vocation. When the crisis

of the Revolution came, this heterogeneous class took the lead in the

movement, and naturally stepped into all political offices; a state of

things which will continue until there is a more direct and general

movement of reorganization.

[The political influence of

literary men a deplorable

sign and source of anarchy]

This is the historical explanation, and at the same time the

refutation, of the subversive schemes so prevalent in our time, of

which the object is to establish a sort of aristocracy of literary

pedants. Such day-dreams of unbridled self-conceit find favour only

with the metaphysical minds who cannot sanction exceptional cases

without making them into an absolute rule. If philosophers are to be

excluded from political authority, there is still greater reason for

excluding poets. The mental and moral versatility which makes them

so apt in reflecting the thoughts and feelings of those around them,

utterly unfits them for being our guides. Their natural defects are

such as nothing but rigorous and systematic education can correct; they

are, therefore, certain to be peculiarly prominent in times like these

when deep convictions of any kind are so rare. Their real vocation is

to assist the spiritual power as accessory members; and this involves

their renouncing all ideas of government, even more strictly than

philosophers themselves. Philosophers, though not themselves engaging

in politics, are called upon to lay down the principles of political

action; but the poet has very little to do with either. His special

function is to idealize and to stimulate; and to do this well, he must

concentrate his energies exclusively upon it. It is a large and noble

field, amply sufficient to absorb men who have a real vocation for it.

Accordingly, in the great artist of former times we see comparatively

few traces of this extravagant ambition. It comes before us in a

time when, owing to the absence of regular habits of life and fixed

convictions, art of the highest order is impossible. The poets of our

time either have not realized or have mistaken their vocation. When

Society is again brought under the influence of a universal doctrine,

real poetry will again become possible; and such men as those we have

been speaking of will turn their energies in a different direction.

Till then they will continue to waste their efforts or to ruin their

character in worthless political agitation, a state of things in which

mediocrity shines and real genius is left in the background.

In the normal state of human nature, Imagination is subordinate to

Reason as Reason is to Feeling. Any prolonged inversion of this natural

order is both morally and intellectually dangerous. The reign of

Imagination would be still more disastrous than the reign of Reason;

only that it is even more incompatible with the practical conditions

of human life. But chimerical as it is, the mere pursuit of it may do

much individual harm by substituting artificial excitement, and in too

many cases affectation of feeling, in the place of deep and spontaneous

emotion. Viewed politically, nothing can be worse than this undue

preponderance of esthetic considerations caused by the uncontrolled

ambition of artists and litterateurs. The true object of Art, which is

to charm and elevate human life, is gradually lost sight of. By being

held out as the aim and object of existence, it degrades the artist

and the public equally, and is therefore certain to degenerate. It

loses all its higher tendencies, and is reduced either to a sensuous

pleasure, or to a mere display of technical skill. Admiration for

the arts, which, when kept in its proper place, has done so much for

modern life, may become a deeply corrupting influence, if it becomes

the paramount consideration. It is notorious what an atrocious custom

prevailed in Italy for several centuries, simply for the sake of

improving men’s voices. Art, the true purpose of which is to strengthen

our sympathies, leads when thus degraded to a most abject form of

selfishness; in which enjoyment of sounds or forms is held out as

the highest happiness, and utter apathy prevails as to all questions

of social interest. So dangerous is it intellectually, and still more

so morally, for individuals, and above all, for societies to allow

esthetic considerations to become unduly preponderant; even when they

spring from a genuine impulse. But the invariable consequence to which

this violation of the first principles of social order leads, is the

success of mediocrities who acquire technical skill by long practice.

Thus it is that we have gradually fallen under the discreditable

influence of men who were evidently not competent for any but

subordinate positions, and whose preponderance has proved as injurious

to Art as it has been to Philosophy and Morality. A fatal facility of

giving expression to what is neither believed nor felt, gives temporary

reputation to men who are as incapable of originality in Art as they

are of grasping any new principle in science. It is the most remarkable

of all the political anomalies caused by our revolutionary position;

and the moral results are most deplorable, unless when, as rarely

happens, the possessor of these undeserved honours has a nature too

noble to be injured by them. Poets are more exposed to these dangers

than other artists, because their sphere is more general and gives

wider scope for ambition. But in the special arts we find the same evil

in a still more degrading form; that of avarice, a vice by which so

much of our highest talent is now tainted. Another signal proof of the

childish vanity and uncontrolled ambition of the class is, that those

who are merely interpreters of other men’s productions claim the same

title as those who have produced original works.

Such are the results of the extravagant pretensions which artists and

literary men have gradually developed during the last five centuries.

I have dwelt upon them because they constitute at present serious

impediments to all sound views of the nature and purposes of Art. My

strictures will not be thought too severe by really esthetic natures,

who know from personal experience how fatal the present system is to

all talent of a high order. Whatever the outcry of those personally

interested, it is certain that in the true interest of Art the

suppression of mediocrity is at least as important as the encouragement

of talent. True taste always implies distaste. The very fact that the

object is to foster in us the sense of perfection, implies that all

true connoisseurs will feel a thorough dislike for feeble work. Happily

there is this privilege in all masterpieces, that the admiration

aroused by them endures in its full strength for all time; so that

the plea which is often put forward of keeping up the public taste

by novelties which in reality injure it, falls to the ground. To

mention my own experience, I may say that for thirteen years I have

been induced alike from principle and from inclination, to restrict my

reading almost entirely to the great Occidental poets, without feeling

the smallest curiosity for the works of the day which are brought out

in such mischievous abundance.

[Theory of Art]

Guarding ourselves, then, against errors of this kind, we may now

proceed to consider the esthetic character of Positivism. In the first

place, it furnishes us with a satisfactory theory of Art; a subject

which has never been systematically explained; all previous attempts to

do so, whatever their value, having viewed the subject incompletely.

The theory here offered is based on the subjective principle of the new

philosophy, on its objective dogma, and on its social purpose; as set

forward in the two first chapters of this work.

[Art is the idealized

representation of Fact]

Art may be defined as an ideal representation of Fact; and its object

is to cultivate our sense of perfection. Its sphere therefore is

co-extensive with that of Science. Both deal in their own way with

the world of Fact; the one explains it, the other beautifies it. The

contemplations of the artist and of the man of science follow the same

encyclopædic law; they begin with the simple objects of the external

world; they gradually rise to the complicated facts of human nature. I

pointed out in the second chapter that the scientific scale, the scale,

that is, of the True, coincided with that of the Good: we now see that

it coincides with that of the Beautiful. Thus between these three great

creations of Humanity, Philosophy, Polity, and Poetry, there is the

most perfect harmony. The first elements of Beauty, that is to say,

Order and Magnitude, are visible in the inorganic world, especially in

the heavens; and they are there perceived with greater distinctness

than where the phenomena are more complex and less uniform. The higher

degrees of Beauty will hardly be recognized by those who are insensible

to this its simplest phase. But as in Philosophy we only study the

inorganic world as a preliminary to the study of Man; so, but to a

still greater extent, is it with Poetry. In Polity the tendency is

similar but less apparent. Here we begin with material progress; we

proceed to physical and subsequently to intellectual progress; but it

is long before we arrive at the ultimate goal, moral progress. Poetry

passes more rapidly over the three preliminary stages, and rises with

less difficulty to the contemplation of moral beauty. Feeling, then,

is essentially the sphere of Poetry. And it supplies not the end

only, but the means. Of all the phenomena which relate to man, human

affections are the most modifiable, and therefore the most susceptible

of idealization. Being more imperfect than any other, by virtue of

their higher complexity, they allow greater scope for improvement.

Now the act of expression, however imperfect, reacts powerfully upon

these functions, which from their nature are always seeking some

external vent. Every one recognizes the influence of language upon

thoughts: and surely it cannot be less upon feelings, since in them

the need of expression is greater. Consequently all esthetic study,

even if purely imitative, may become a useful moral exercise, by

calling sympathies and antipathies into healthy play. The effect is far

greater when the representation, passing the limits of strict accuracy,

is suitably idealized. This indeed is the characteristic mission of

Art. Its function is to construct types of the noblest kind, by the

contemplation of which our feelings and thoughts may be elevated. That

the portraiture should be exaggerated follows from the definition of

Art; it should surpass realities so as to stimulate us to amend them.

Great as the influence is of these poetic emotions on individuals, they

are far more efficacious when brought to bear upon public life: not

only from the greater importance of the subject matter, but because

each individual impression is rendered more intense by combination.

[Poetry is intermediate

between Philosophy and

Polity]

Thus Positivism explains and confirms the view ordinarily taken of

Poetry, by placing it midway between Philosophy and Polity; issuing

from the first, and preparing the way for the second.

Even Feeling itself, the highest principle of our existence, accepts

the objective dogma of Philosophy, that Humanity is subject to the

order of the external world. And Imagination on still stronger grounds

must accept the same law. The ideal must always be subordinate to the

real; otherwise feebleness as well as extravagance is the consequence.

The statesman who endeavours to improve the existing order, must first

study it as it exists. And the poet, although his improvements are

but imagined, and are not supposed capable of realization, must do

likewise. True in his fictions he will transcend the limits of the

possible, while the statesman will keep within those limits; but both

have the same point of departure; both begin by studying the actual

facts with which they deal. In our artificial improvements we should

never aim at anything more than wise modification of the natural

order; we should never attempt to subvert it. And though Imagination

has a wider range for its pictures, they are yet subject to the same

fundamental law, imposed by Philosophy upon Polity and Poetry alike.

Even in the most poetic ages this law has always been recognized, only

the external world was interpreted then in a way very differently from

now. We see the same thing every day in the mental growth of the child.

As his notions of fact change, his fictions are modified in conformity

with these changes.

But while Poetry depends upon Philosophy for the principles on which

its types are constructed, it influences Polity by the direction which

it gives to those types. In every operation that man undertakes, he

must imagine before he executes, as he must observe before he imagines.

He can never produce a result which he has not conceived first in

his own mind. In the simplest application of mechanics or geometry

he finds it necessary to form a mental type, which is always more

perfect than the reality which it precedes and prepares. Now none

but those who confound poetry with verse-making can fail to see that

this conception of a type is the same thing as esthetic imagination,

under its simplest and most general aspect. Its application to social

phenomena, which constitute the chief sphere both of Art and of

Science, is very imperfectly understood as yet, and can hardly be said

to have begun, owing to the want of any true theory of society. The

real object of so applying it is, that it should regulate the formation

of social Utopias; subordinating them to the laws of social development

as revealed by history. Utopias are to the Art of social life what

geometrical and mechanical types are to their respective arts. In these

their necessity is universally recognized; and surely the necessity

cannot be less in problems of such far greater intricacy. Accordingly

we see that, notwithstanding the empirical condition in which political

art has hitherto existed, every great change has been ushered in, one

or two centuries beforehand, by an Utopia bearing some analogy to it.

It was the product of the esthetic genius of Humanity working under an

imperfect sense of its conditions and requirements. Positivism, far

from laying an interdict on Utopias, tends rather to facilitate their

employment and their influence, as a normal element in society. Only,

as in the case of all other products of imagination, they must always

remain subordinated to the actual laws of social existence. And thus by

giving a systematic sanction to this the Poetry, as it may be called,

of Politics, most of the dangers which now surround it will disappear.

Its present extravagances arise simply from the absence of some

philosophical principle to control it, and therefore there is no reason

for regarding them with great severity.

The whole of this theory may be summed up in the double meaning of

the word so admirably chosen to designate our esthetic functions. The

word _Art_ is a remarkable instance of the popular instinct from which

language proceeds, and which is far more enlightened than educated

persons are apt to suppose. It indicates, however vaguely, a sense of

the true position of Poetry, midway between Philosophy and Polity,

but with a closer relation to the latter. True, in the case of the

technical arts the improvements proposed are practically realized,

while those of the fine arts remain imaginary. Poetry, however, does

produce one result of an indirect but most essential kind; it does

actually modify our moral nature. If we include oratory, which is

only Poetry in a simpler phase, though often worthless enough, we

find its influence exerted in a most difficult and critical task,

that of arousing or calming our passions; and this not arbitrarily,

but in accordance with the fixed laws of their action. Here it has

always been recognized as a moral agency of great power. On every

ground, then, Poetry seems more closely related to practical than to

speculative life. For its practical results are of the most important

and comprehensive nature. Whatever the utility of other arts, material,

physical, or intellectual, they are only subsidiary or preparatory

to that which in Poetry is the direct aim, moral improvement. In the

Middle Ages it was common in all Western languages to speak of it as

a Science, the proper meaning of the word Science being then very

imperfectly understood. But as soon as both artistic and scientific

genius had become more fully developed, their distinctive features were

more clearly recognized, and finally the name of Art was appropriated

to the whole class of poetic functions. The fact is, at all events, an

argument in favour of the Positive theory of idealization, as standing

midway between theoretical inquiry and practical result.

[Art calls each element of

our nature into harmonious

action]

Evidently, then, it is in Art that the unity of human natures finds its

most complete and most natural representation. For Art is in direct

relation with the three orders of phenomena by which human nature

is characterized; Feelings, Thoughts, and Actions. It originates in

Feeling; the proof of this is even more obvious than in the case of

Philosophy and Polity. It has its basis in Thought, and its end is

Action. Hence its power of exerting an influence for good alike on

every phase of our existence, whether personal or social. Hence too its

peculiar attribute of giving equal pleasure to all ranks and ages. Art

invites the thinker to leave his abstractions for the study of real

life; it elevates the practical man into a region of thought where

self-love has no place. By its intermediate position it promotes the

mutual reaction of Affection and Reason. It stimulates feeling in those

who are too much engrossed with intellectual questions: it strengthens

the contemplative faculty in natures where sympathy predominates. It

has been said of Art that its province is to hold a mirror to nature.

The saying is usually applied to social life where its truth is most

apparent. But it is no less true of every aspect of our existence; for

under every aspect it may be a source of Art, and may be represented

and modified by it. Turning to Biology for the cause of this

sociological relation, we find it in the relation of the muscular and

nervous systems. Our motions, involuntary at first, and then voluntary,

indicate internal impressions, moral impressions more especially; and

as they proceed from them, so they react upon them. Here we find the

first germ of a true theory of Art. Throughout the animal kingdom

language is simply gesticulation of a more or less expressive kind. And

with man esthetic development begins in the same spontaneous way.

[Three stages in the

esthetic process: Imitation,

Idealization, Expression]

With this primary principle we may now complete our statical theory

of Art, by indicating in it three distinct degrees or phases. The

fine arts have been divided into imitative and inventive; but this

distinction has no real foundation. Art always imitates, and always

idealizes. True, as the real is in every case the source of the ideal,

Art begins at first with simple Imitation. In the childhood, whether of

men or of the race, as also with the lower animals, servile imitation,

and that of the most insignificant actions, is the only symptom of

esthetic capacity. No representation, however, has at present any claim

to the title of Art (although from motives of puerile vanity the name

is often given to it), except so far as it is made more beautiful, that

is to say, more perfect. The representation thus becomes in reality

more faithful, because the principal features are brought prominently

forward, instead of being obscured by a mass of unmeaning detail.

This it is which constitutes Idealization; and from the time of the

great masterpieces of antiquity, it has become more and more the

characteristic feature of esthetic productions. But in recognizing the

superiority of Idealization as the second stage of Art, we must not

forget the necessity of its first stage, Imitation. Without it neither

the origin nor the nature of Art could be correctly understood.

In addition to the creative process, which is the chief characteristic

of Art, there is a third function which, though not absolutely

necessary in its imitative stage, becomes in its ideal stage. I mean

the function of Expression strictly so called, without which the

product of imagination could not be communicated to others. Language,

whether it be the Language of sound or form, is the last stage of the

esthetic operation, and it does not always bear a due proportion to the

inventive faculty. When it is too defective, the sublimest creations

may be ranked lower than they deserve, owing to the failure of the poet

to communicate his thought completely. Great powers of style may, on

the other hand, confer unmerited reputation, which however does not

endure. An instance of this is the preference that was given for so

long a time to Racine over Corneille.

So long as Art is confined to Imitation, no special language is

required; imitation is itself the substitute for language. But as soon

as the representation has become idealized by heightening some features

and suppressing or altering others, it corresponds to something which

exists only in the mind of the composer; and its communication to the

world requires additional labour devoted exclusively to Expression.

In this final process so necessary to the complete success of his

work, the poet moulds his signs upon his inward type; just as he began

at first by adapting them to external facts. So far there is some

truth in Grétry’s principle that song is derived from speech by the

intermediate stage of declamation. The same principle has been applied

to all the special arts; it might also be applied to Poetry, oratory

being the link between verse and prose. These views, however, are

somewhat modified by the historical spirit of Positive Philosophy. We

must invert Grétry’s relation of cause and effect; at least when we are

considering those primitive times, when Art and Language first arose

together.

The origin of all our faculties of expression is invariably esthetic;

for we do not express till after we have felt strongly. Feeling had,

in primitive times at all events, far more to do with these faculties

than Thought, being a far stronger stimulant to external demonstration.

Even in the most highly wrought languages, where, in consequence of

social requirements, reason has to a great extent encroached upon

emotion, we see evidence of this truth. There is a musical element

in the most ordinary conversation. Listening carefully to a lecture

on the most abstruse mathematical problem, we shall hear intonations

which proceed obviously from the heart rather than the head, and which

are indications of character even in the most unimpassioned speaker.

Biology at once explains this law, by teaching that the stimulus to

the muscles used in expression, whether vocal or gesticulatory, comes

principally from the affective region of the brain; the specu-region

being too inert to produce muscular contraction for which there is

no absolute necessity. Accordingly, Sociology regards every language

as containing in its primitive elements all that is spontaneous and

universal in the esthetic development of Humanity; enough, that is,

to satisfy the general need of communicating emotion. In this common

field the special arts commence, and they ultimately widen it. But the

operation is the same in its nature, whether carried on by popular

instinct or by individuals. The final result is always more dependent

on feeling than on reason, even in times like these, when the intellect

has risen in revolt against the heart. Song, therefore, comes before

Speech; Painting before Writing; because the first things we express

are those which move our feelings most. Subsequently the necessities

of social life oblige us to employ more frequently, and ultimately

to develop, those elements in painting or in song, which relate to

our practical wants and to our speculative faculties so far as they

are required for supplying them; these forming the topics of ordinary

communication. Thus the emotion from which the sign had originally

proceeded becomes gradually effaced; the practical object is alone

thought of, and expression becomes more rapid and less emphatic. The

process goes on until at last the sign is supposed to have originated

in arbitrary convention; though, if this were the case, its universal

and spontaneous adoption would be inexplicable. Such, then, is the

sociological theory of Language, on which I shall afterwards dwell

more fully. I connect it with the whole class of esthetic functions,

from which in the lower animals it is not distinguished. For no animal

idealizes its song or gesture so far as to rise to anything that can

properly be called Art.

[Classification of the

arts on the principle of

decreasing generality, and

increasing intensity]

To complete our examination of the philosophy of Art, statically

viewed, we have now only to speak of the order in which the various

arts should be classified. Placed as Art is, midway between Theory

and Practice, it is classified on the same principle, the principle,

that is of decreasing generality, which I have long ago shown to be

applicable to all Positive classifications of whatever kind. We have

already obtained from it a scale of the Beautiful, answering in most

points to that which was first laid down for the True, and which

we applied afterwards to the Good. By following it in the present

instance, we shall be enabled to range the arts in the order of their

conception and succession, as was done in my Treatise on Positive

Philosophy for the various branches of Science and Industry.

The arts, then, should be classified by the decreasing generality and

the increasing intensity, which involves also increasing technicality,

of their modes of expression. In its highest term the esthetic scale

connects itself with the scientific scale; and in its lowest with the

industrial scale. This is in conformity with the position assigned

to Art intermediate between Philosophy and Practical life. Art never

becomes disconnected from human interests; but as it becomes less

general and more technical, its relation with our higher attributes

becomes less intimate, and it is more dependent on inorganic Nature, so

that at last the kind of beauty depicted by it is merely material.

[Poetry]

On these principles of classification we must give the first place

to Poetry properly so called, as being the most general and least

technical of the arts, and as being the basis on which all the rest

depend. The impressions which it produces are less intense than those

of the rest, but its sphere is evidently wider, since it embraces

every side of our existence, whether individual, domestic, or social.

Poetry, like the special arts, has a closer relation with actions

and impulses than with thoughts. Yet the most abstract conceptions

are not excluded from its sphere; for not merely can it improve the

language in which they are expressed, but it may add to their intrinsic

beauty. It is, on the whole, the most popular of all the arts, both

on account of its wider scope, and also because, its instruments of

expression being taken directly from ordinary language, it is more

generally intelligible than any other. True, in the highest kind of

poetry versification is necessary; but this cannot be called a special

art. The language of Poetry, although distinct in form, is in reality

nothing but the language of common men more perfectly expressed. The

only technical element in it, prosody, is easily acquired by a few

days’ practice. A proof of the identity of the language of Poetry with

that of common life, is the fact that no poet has ever been able to

write with effect in a foreign or a dead language. And not only is this

noblest of Arts more comprehensive, more spontaneous, more popular than

the rest, but it surpasses them in that which is the characteristic

feature of all art, Ideality. Poetry is the art which idealizes the

most, and imitates the least. For these reasons it has always held

the first place among the arts; a view which will be strengthened in

proportion as we attach greater importance to idealization and less

to mere expression. In expression it is inferior to the other arts,

which represent such subjects as fall within their compass with greater

intensity. But it is from Poetry that these subjects are usually

borrowed.

[Music]

The first term of the series being thus determined, the other arts

may at once be ranked according to the degree of their affinity

with Poetry. Let us begin by distinguishing the different senses to

which they appeal; and we shall find that our series proceeds on the

principle which biologists, since Gall’s time, have adopted for the

classification of the special senses, the principle of decreasing

sociability. There are only two senses which can be called esthetic;

namely, Sight and Hearing: the others having no power of raising us

to Idealization. The sense of smell can, it is true, enable us to

associate ideas; but in man it exists too feebly for artistic effects.

Hearing and Sight correspond to the two modes of natural language,

voice and gesture. From the first arises the art of Music; the second,

which however is less esthetic, includes the three arts of form. These

are more technical than Music; their field is not so wide, and moreover

they stand at a greater distance from poetry; whereas Music remained

for a long time identified with it. Another distinction is that the

sense to which music appeals performs its function involuntarily; and

this is one reason why the emotions which it calls forth are more

spontaneous and more deep, though less definite, than in the case

where it depends on the will whether we receive the impression or not.

Again, the difference between them answers to the distinction of Time

and Space. The art of sound represents succession; the arts of form,

co-existence. On all these grounds music should certainly be ranked

before the other special arts, as the second term of the esthetic

series. Its technical difficulties are exaggerated by pedants, whose

interest it is to do so; in reality, special training is less needed

for its appreciation, and even for its composition, than in the case of

either painting or sculpture. Hence it is in every respect more popular

and more social.

[Painting

Sculpture

Architecture]

Of the three arts which appeal to the voluntary sense of sight, and

which present simultaneous impressions, Painting, on the same principle

of arrangement, holds the first rank, and Architecture the last;

Sculpture being placed between them. Painting alone employs all the

methods of visual expression, combining the effects of colour with

those of form. Whether in public or private life, its sphere is wider

than that of the other two. More technical skill is required in it

than in music, and it is harder to obtain; but the difficulty is less

than in Sculpture or in Architecture. These latter idealize less,

and imitate more. Of the two, Architecture is the less esthetic. It

is far more dependent on technical processes; and indeed most of its

productions are rather works of industry than works of art. It seldom

rises above material beauty: moral beauty it can only represent by

artifices, of which the meaning is often ambiguous. But the impressions

conveyed by it are so powerful and so permanent, that it will always

retain its place among the fine arts, especially in the case of great

public buildings, which stand out as the most imposing record of

each successive phase of social development. Never has the power of

Architecture been displayed to greater effect than in our magnificent

cathedrals, in which the spirit of the Middle Ages has been idealized

and preserved for posterity. They exhibit in a most striking manner the

property which Architecture possesses of bringing all the arts together

into a common centre.

[The conditions favourable

to Art have never yet been

combined]

These brief remarks will illustrate the method adopted by the new

philosophy in investigating a systematic theory of Art under all its

statical aspects. We have now to speak of its action upon social life,

whether in the final state of Humanity, or in the transitional movement

through which that state is to be reached.

The Positive theory of history shows us at once, in spite of strong

prejudices to the contrary, that up to the present time the progress

achieved by Art has been, like that of Science and Industry, only

preparatory; the conditions essential to its full development never

having yet been combined.

[Neither in Polytheism]

Too much has been made of the esthetic tendencies of the nations of

antiquity, owing to the free scope that was given to Imagination in

constructing their doctrines. In fact Polytheism, now that the belief

in its principles exists no longer, has been regarded as simply a work

of art. But the long duration of its principles would be sufficient

proof that they were not created by the poets, but that they emanated

from the philosophic genius of Humanity working spontaneously, as

explained in my theory of human development, in the only way that was

then possible. All that Art did for Polytheism was to perform its

proper function of clothing it in a more poetic form. It is quite

true that the peculiar character of Polytheistic philosophy gave

greater scope for the development of Art than has been afforded by any

subsequent system. It is to this portion of the theological period that

we must attribute the first steps of esthetic development, whether in

society or in the individual. Yet Art was never really incorporated

into the ancient order. Its free growth was impossible so long as it

remained under the control of Theocracy, which made use of it as an

instrument, but which, from the stationary character of its dogmas,

shackled its operations. Moreover, the social life of antiquity was

highly unfavourable to Art. The sphere of personal feelings and

domestic affections was hardly open to it. Public life in ancient times

had certainly more vigorous and more permanent features, and here

there was a wider field. Yet even in such a case as that of Homer, we

feel that he would hardly have spent his extraordinary powers upon

descriptions of military life, had there been nobler subjects for his

genius. The only grand aspect, viewed socially, that war could offer,

the system of incorporation instituted by Rome after a succession

of conquests, could not then be foreseen. When that period arrived,

ancient history was drawing to a close, and the only poetical tribute

to this nobler policy was contained in a few beautiful lines of

Virgil’s _Æneid_, ending with the remarkable expression,

Pacisque imponere morem,

(Impose the law of peace.)

[Nor under the Mediaeval

system]

Mediaeval society, notwithstanding irrational prejudices to the

contrary, would have been far more favourable to the fine arts, could

it have continued longer. I do not speak, indeed, of its dogmas;

which were so incompatible with Art, as to lead to the strange

inconsistency of giving a factitious sanction to Paganism in the midst

of Christianity. By holding personal and chimerical objects before us

as the end of life, Monotheism discouraged all poetry, except so far as

it related to our individual existence. This, however, was idealized by

the mystics, whose beautiful compositions penetrated into our inmost

emotions, and wanted nothing but greater perfection of form. All that

Catholicism effected for Art in other respects was to secure a better

position for it, as soon as the priesthood became strong enough to

counteract the intellectual and moral defects of Christian doctrine.

But the social life of the Middle Ages was far more esthetic than that

of antiquity. War was still the prevailing occupation; but by assuming

a defensive character, it had become far more moral, and therefore

more poetic. Woman had acquired a due measure of freedom; and the free

development of home affections were thus no longer restricted. There

was a consciousness of personal dignity hitherto unknown, and yet

quite compatible with social devotion, which elevated individual life

in all its aspects. All these qualities were summed up in the noble

institution of Chivalry; which gave a strong stimulus to Art throughout

Western Europe, and diffused it more largely than in any former period.

This movement was in reality, though the fact is not recognized as it

should be, the source of modern Art. The reason for its short duration

is to be found in the essentially transient and provisional character

of mediaeval society under all its aspects. By the time that its

language and habits had become sufficiently stable for the esthetic

spirit to produce works of permanent value, Catholic Feudalism was

already undermined by the growing force of the negative movement. The

beliefs and modes of life offered for idealization were seen to be

declining: and neither the poet nor his readers could feel those deep

convictions which the highest purposes of Art require.

[Much less in modern times]

During the decline of Chivalry, Art received indirectly an additional

impulse from the movement of social decomposition which has been going

on rapidly for the last five centuries. In this movement all mental and

social influences gradually participated. Negativism, it is true, is

not the proper province of Art; but the dogmas of Christianity were so

oppressive to it, that its efforts to shake off the yoke were of great

service to the cause of general emancipation. Dante’s incomparable

work is a striking illustration of this anomalous combination of two

contradictory influences. It was a situation unfavourable for art,

because every aspect of life was rapidly changing and losing its

character before there was time to idealize it. Consequently the poet

had to create his own field artificially from ancient history, which

supplied him with those fixed and definite modes of life which he

could not find around him. Thus it was that for several centuries the

Classical system became the sole source of esthetic culture; the result

being that Art lost much of the originality and popularity which had

previously belonged to it. That great masterpieces should have been

produced at all under such unfavourable circumstances is the best proof

of the spontaneous character of our esthetic faculties. The value of

the Classical system has been for some time entirely exhausted; and now

that the negative movement has reached its extreme limits there only

remained one service (a service of great temporary importance) for Art

to render, the idealization of Doubt itself. Such a phase of course

admitted of but short duration. The best examples of it are the works

of Byron and Goethe, the principle value of which has been, that they

have initiated Protestant countries into the unrestricted freedom of

thought which emanated originally from French philosophy.

Thus history shows that the esthetic development of Humanity has

been the result of spontaneous tendencies rather than of systematic

guidance. The mental conditions most favourable to it have never

been fulfilled simultaneously with its social conditions. At the

present time both are alike wanting. Yet there is no evidence that

our esthetic faculties are on the decline. Not only has the growth

of art proceeded in spite of every obstacle, but it has become more

thoroughly incorporated into the life of ordinary men. In ancient times

it was cultivated only by a small class. So little was it recognized

as a component part of social organization, that it did not even enter

into men’s imaginary visions of a future existence. But in the Middle

Ages the simplest minds were encouraged to cultivate the sense of

beauty as one of the purest delights of human life; and it was held

out as the principal occupation of the celestial state. From that time

all classes of European society have taken an increasing interest in

these elevating pleasures, beginning with poetry, and thence passing

to the special arts, especially music, the most social of all. The

influence of artists, even when they had no real claim to the title,

has been on the increase; until at last the anarchy of the present time

has introduced them to political power, for which they are utterly

unqualified.

[Under Positivism the

conditions will all be

favourable. There will be

fixed principles, and a

nobler moral culture]

All this would seem to show that the greatest epoch of Art has yet to

come. In this respect, as in every other, the Past has but supplied the

necessary materials for future reconstruction. What we have seen as yet

is but a spontaneous and immature prelude; but in the manhood of our

moral and mental powers, the culture of Art will proceed on principles

as systematic as the culture of Science and of Industry, both of which

at present are similarly devoid of organization. The regeneration of

society will be incomplete until Art has been fully incorporated into

the modern order. And to this result all our antecedents have been

tending. To renew the esthetic movement so admirably begun in the

Middle Ages, but interrupted by classical influences, will form a part

of the great work which Positivism has undertaken, the completion and

re-establishment of the Mediaeval structure upon a firmer intellectual

basis. And when Art is once restored to its proper place, its future

progress will be unchecked, because, as I shall now proceed to show,

all the influences of the final order, spontaneous or systematic, will

be in every respect favourable to it. If this can be made clear, the

poetic capabilities of Positive Philosophy will require no further

proof.

As being the only rallying point now possible for fixed convictions,

without which life can have no definite or permanent character,

Positivism is on this ground alone indispensable to all further

development of modern Art. If the poet and his readers are alike

devoid of such convictions, no idealization of life, whether personal,

domestic, or social, is in any true sense possible. No emotions are

fit subjects for Art unless they are felt deeply, and unless they come

spontaneously to all. When society has no marked intellectual or moral

feature, Art, which is its mirror, can have none either. And although

the esthetic faculty is so innate in us that it never can remain

inactive, yet its culture becomes in this case vague and objectless.

The fact therefore that Positivism terminates the Revolution by

initiating the movement of organic growth is of itself enough to prove

its beneficial influence upon Art.

Art, indeed, would profit by any method of reorganization, whatever its

nature. But the principle on which Positivism proposes to reconstruct

is peculiarly favourable to its growth. The opinions and the modes of

life to which that principle conducts are precisely those which are

most essential to esthetic development.

A more esthetic system cannot be imagined than one which teaches

that Feeling is the basis on which the unity of human nature rests;

and which assigns as the grand object of man’s existence, progress

in every direction, but especially moral progress. It may seem at

first as if the tendency of the new philosophy was merely to make us

more systematic. And systematization is assuredly indispensable; but

the sole object of it is to increase our sympathy and our synergic

activity by supplying that fixity of principle which alone can lead

to energetic practice. By teaching that the highest happiness is to

aid in the happiness of others, Positivism invites the poet to his

noblest function, the culture of generous sympathies, a subject far

more poetic than the passions of hatred and oppression which hitherto

have been his ordinary theme. A system which regards such culture as

the highest object cannot fail to incorporate Poetry as one of its

essential elements, and to give to it a far higher position than it has

ever held before. Science, although it be the source from which the

Positive system emanates, will be restricted to its proper function

of supplying the objective basis for human prevision; thus giving to

Art and Industry, which must always be the principal objects of our

attention, the foundation they require. Positivism, substituting in

every subject the relative point of view for the absolute, regarding,

that is, every subject in its relation to Humanity, would not prosecute

the study of the True beyond what is required for the development of

the Good and the Beautiful. Beyond this point, scientific culture is

a useless expenditure of time, and a diversion from the great end for

which Man and Society exist. Subordinate as the ideal must ever be to

the real, Art will yet exercise a most salutary influence upon Science,

as soon as we cease to study Science in an absolute spirit. In the

very simplest phenomena, after reaching the degree of exactness which

our wants require, there is always a certain margin of liberty for the

imagination; and advantage may very well be taken of this to make our

conceptions more beautiful and so far more useful. Still more available

is this influence of the Beautiful on the True in the highest subjects,

those which directly concern Humanity. Minute accuracy being here more

difficult and at the same time less important, more room is left for

esthetic considerations. In representing the great historical types,

for instance, Art has its place as well as Science. A society which

devotes all its powers to making every aspect of life as perfect as

possible, will naturally give preference to that kind of intellectual

culture which is of all others the best calculated to heighten our

sense of perfection.

[Predisposing influence of

Education]

The tendency of Positivism to favour these the most energetic of our

intellectual faculties and the most closely related to our moral

nature, is apparent throughout its educational system. The reader

will have seen in the third chapter that in Positive education more

importance is attached to Art than to Science, as the true theory

of human development requires. Science intervenes only to put into

systematic shape what Art, operating under the direct influence of

affection, has spontaneously begun. As in the history of mankind

esthetic development preceded scientific development, so it will

be with the individual, whose education on the Positive method is

but a reproduction of the education of the race. The only rational

principle of our absurd classical system is its supposed tendency to

encourage poetical training. The futility, however, of this profession

is but too evident: the usual result of the system being to implant

erroneous notions of all the fine arts, if not utter distaste for

them. A striking illustration of its worthlessness is the idolatry

with which for a whole century our French pedants regarded Boileau;

a most skilful versifier, but of all our poets perhaps the least

gifted with true poetic feeling. Positivist education will effect what

classical education has attempted so imperfectly. It will familiarize

the humblest working man or woman from childhood with all the beauties

of the best poets; not those of his own nation merely, but of all the

West. To secure the genuineness and efficiency of esthetic development,

attention must first be given to the poets who depict our own modern

society. Afterwards, as I have said, the young Positivist will be

advised to complete his poetical course, by studying the poets who

have idealized antiquity. But his education will not be limited to

poetry, it will embrace the special arts of sound and form, by which

the principal effects of poetry are reproduced with greater intensity.

Thus the contemplation and meditation suggested by Art, besides their

own intrinsic charm, will prepare the way for the exercise of similar

faculties in Science. For with the individual, as with the species,

the combination of images will assist the combination of signs: signs

in their origin being images which have lost their vividness. As the

sphere of Art includes every subject of human interest, we shall

become familiarized, during the esthetic period of education, with

the principal conceptions that are afterwards to be brought before us

systematically in the scientific period. Especially will this be true

of historical studies. By the time that the pupil enters upon them, he

will be already familiar with poetic descriptions of the various social

phases, and of the men who played a leading part in them.

[Relation of Art to Religion]

And if Art is of such importance in the education of the young, it is

no less important in the afterwork of education; the work of recalling

men or classes of men to those high feelings and principles which,

in the daily business of life, are so apt to be forgotten. In the

solemnities, private or public, appointed for this purpose, Positivism

will rely far more on impressions such as poetry can inspire, than

on scientific explanations. Indeed the preponderance of Art over

Science will be still greater than in education properly so called.

The scientific basis of human conduct having been already laid down,

it will not be necessary to do more than refer to it. The philosophic

priesthood will in this case be less occupied with new conceptions,

than with the enforcement of truth already known, which demands

esthetic rather than scientific talent.

A vague presentiment of the proper function of Art in regulating public

festivals was shown empirically by the Revolutionists. But all their

attempts in this direction proved notorious failures; a signal proof

that politicians should not usurp the office of spiritual guides.

The intention of a festival is to give public expression to deep and

genuine feeling; spontaneousness therefore is its first condition.

Hence it is a matter with which political rulers are incompetent to

deal; and even the spiritual power should only act as the systematic

organ of impulses which already exist. Since the decline of Catholicism

we have had no festivals worthy of the name; nor can we have them

until Positivism has become generally accepted. All that governments

could do at present is to exhibit unmeaning and undignified shows

before discordant crowds, who are themselves the only spectacles worth

beholding. Indeed the usurpation of this function by government is

in many cases as tyrannical as it is irrational; arbitrary formulas

are often imposed, which answer to no pre-existing feeling whatever.

Evidently the direction of festivals is a function which more than

any other belongs exclusively to the spiritual power, since it is the

spiritual power which regulates the tendencies of which these festivals

are the manifestation. Here its work is essentially esthetic. A

festival even in private, and still more in public life, is or should

be a work of art; its purpose being to express certain feelings by

voice or gesture, and to idealize them. It is the most esthetic of all

functions, since it involves usually a complete combination of the

four special arts, under the presidence of the primary art, Poetry. On

this ground governments have in most cases been willing to waive their

official authority in this matter, and to be largely guided by artistic

counsel, accepting even the advice of painters and sculptors in the

default of poets of real merit.

The esthetic tendencies of Positivism, with regard to institutions of

this kind, are sufficiently evident in the worship of Woman, spoken

of in the preceding chapter, and in the worship of Humanity, of which

I shall speak more particularly afterwards. From these, indeed, most

Positivist festivals, private or public, will originate. But this

subject has been already broached, and will be discussed in the next

chapter with as much detail as the limits of this introductory work

allow.

While the social value of Art is thus enhanced by the importance of the

work assigned to it, new and extensive fields for its operations are

opened out by Positivism. Chief amongst these is History, regarded as a

continuous whole; a domain at present almost untouched.

[Idealization of historical

types]

Modern poets, finding little to inspire them in their own times, and

driven back into ancient life by the classical system, have already

idealized some of the past phases of Humanity. Our great Corneille, for

instance, is principally remembered for the series of dramas in which

he has so admirably depicted various periods of Roman history. In our

own times where the historical spirit has become stronger, novelists,

like Scott and Manzoni, have made similar though less perfect attempts

to idealize later periods. Such examples, however, are but spontaneous

and imperfect indications of the new field which Positivism now offers

to the artist; a field which extends over the whole region of the Past

and even of the Future. Until this vast domain had been conceived of

as a whole by the philosopher, it would have been impossible to bring

it within the compass of poetry. Now theological and metaphysical

philosophers were prevented by the absolute spirit of their doctrines

from understanding history in all its phases, and were totally

incapable of idealizing them as they deserved. Positivism, on the

contrary, is always relative; and its principal feature is a theory of

history which enables us to appreciate and become familiar with every

mode in which human society has formed itself. No sincere Monotheist

can understand and represent with fairness the life of Polytheists or

Fetichists. But the Positivist poet, accustomed to look upon all past

historical stages in their proper filiation, will be able so thoroughly

to identify himself with all, as to awaken our sympathies for them, and

revive the traces which each individual may recognize of corresponding

phases in his own history. Thus we shall be able thoroughly to enter

into the esthetic beauty of the Pagan creeds of Greece and Rome,

without any of the scruples which Christians could not but feel when

engaged on the same subject. In the Art of the Future all phases of the

Past will be recalled to life with the same distinctness with which

some of them have been already idealized by Homer and Corneille. And

the value of this new source of inspiration is the greater that, at

the same time that it is being opened out to the artist, the public

is being prepared for its enjoyment. An almost exhaustless series of

beautiful creations in epic or dramatic art may be produced, which, by

rendering it more easy to comprehend and to glorify the Past in all

its phases, will form an essential element, on the one hand, of our

educational system, and on the other, of the worship of Humanity.

[Art requires the highest

education; but little

special instruction]

Lastly, not only will the field for Art become wider, but its organs

will be men of a higher stamp. The present system, in which the arts

are cultivated by special classes, must be abolished, as being wholly

alien to that synthetic spirit which always characterizes the highest

poetic genius.

Real talent for Art cannot fail to be called out by the educational

system of Positivism, which, though intended for the working classes,

is equally applicable to all others. We can only idealize and portray

what has become familiar to us; consequently poetry has always rested

upon some system of belief, capable of giving a fixed direction to our

thoughts and feelings. The greatest poets, from Homer to Corneille,

have always participated largely in the best education of which their

times admitted. The artist must have clear conceptions before he can

exhibit true pictures. Even in these anarchic times, when the system

of specialities is being carried to such an irrational extent, the

so-called poets who imagine that they can themselves save the trouble

of philosophical training, have in reality to borrow a basis of belief

from some worn-out metaphysical or theological creed. Their special

education, if it can be called so, consists merely in cultivating the

talent for expression, and is equally injurious to their intellect

and their heart. Incompatible with deep conviction of any kind, while

giving mechanical skill in the technical department of Art, it impairs

the far more important faculty of idealization. Hence it is that we are

at present so deplorably over-stocked with verse-makers and literary

men, who are wholly devoid of real poetic feeling, and are fit for

nothing but to disturb society by their reckless ambition. As for

the four special arts, the training for them at present given, being

still more technical, is even more hurtful in every respect to the

student whose education does not extend beyond it. On every ground,

then, artists of whatever kind should begin their career with the same

education as the rest of society. The necessity for such an education

in the case of women has been already recognized; and it is certainly

not less desirable for artists and poets.

Indeed, so esthetic is the spirit of Positive education, that no

special training for Art will be needed, except that which is given

spontaneously by practice. There is no other profession which requires

so little direct instruction; the tendency of it in Art being to

destroy originality, and to stifle the fire of genius with technical

erudition. Even for the special arts no professional education is

needed. These, like industrial arts, should be acquired by careful

practice under the guidance of good masters. The notorious failure of

public institutions established for the purpose of forming musicians

and painters, makes it unnecessary to dwell further upon this point.

Not to speak of their injurious effects upon character, they are a

positive impediment to true genius. Poets and artists, then, require

no education beyond that which is given to the public, whose thoughts

and emotions it is their office to represent. Its want of speciality

makes it all the more fit to develop and bring forward real talent. It

will strengthen the love of all the fine arts simultaneously; for the

connexion between them is so intimate that those who make it a boast

that their talent is for one of them exclusively will be strongly

suspected of having no real vocation for any. All the greatest masters,

modern no less than ancient, have shown this universality of taste. Its

absence in the present day is but a fresh proof that esthetic genius

does not and cannot exist in times like these, when Art has no social

purpose and rests on no philosophic principles. If even amateurs are

expected to enjoy Art in all its forms, is it likely that composers of

real genius will restrict their admiration to their own special mode of

idealization and expression?

[Artists as a class will

disappear. Their function

will be appropriated by the

philosophic priesthood]

Positivism, then, while infusing a profoundly esthetic spirit into

general education, would suppress all special schools of Art on the

ground that they impede its true growth, and simply promote the

success of mediocrities. When this principle is carried out to its

full length, we shall no longer have any special class of artists. The

culture of Art, especially of poetry, will be a spontaneous addition to

the functions of the three classes which constitute the moral power of

society.

Under theocracy, the system by which the evolution of human society

was inaugurated, the speculative class absorbed all functions except

those relating to the common business of life. No distinction was made

between esthetic and scientific talent. Their separation took place

afterwards: and though it was indispensable to the full development of

both, yet it forms no part of the permanent order of society, in which

the only well-marked division is that between Theory and Practice.

Ultimately all theoretic faculties will be again combined even more

closely than in primitive times. So long as they are dispersed, their

full influence on practical life cannot be realized. Only it was

necessary that they should remain dispersed until each constituent

element had attained a sufficient degree of development. For this

preliminary growth the long period of time that has elapsed since

the decline of theocracy was necessary. Art detached itself from the

theoretical system before Science, because its progress was more

rapid, and from its nature it was more independent. The priesthood had

lost its hold of Art, as far back as the time of Homer: but it still

continued to be the depositary of science, until it was superseded at

first by philosophers strictly so called, afterwards by mathematicians

and astronomers. So it was that Art first, and subsequently Science,

yielded to the specializing system which, though normal for Industry,

is in their case abnormal. It stimulated the growth of our speculative

faculties at the time of their escape from the yoke of theocracy: but

now that the need for it no longer exists, it is the principal obstacle

to the final order, towards which all their partial developments have

been tending. To recombine these special elements on new principles is

at present the primary condition of social regeneration.

Looking at the two essential functions of the spiritual power,

education and counsel, it is not difficult to see that what they

require is a combination of poetic feeling with scientific insight. We

look for a measure of both these qualities in the public; therefore

men who are devoid of either of them cannot be fit to be its spiritual

guides. That they take the name of philosophers in preference to that

of poets, is because their ordinary duties are more connected with

Science than with Art but they ought to be equally interested in

both. Science requires systematic teaching, whereas Art is cultivated

spontaneously, with the exception of the technical branches of the

special arts. It must be remembered that the highest esthetic functions

are not such as can be performed continuously. It is only works of

rare excellence which are in the highest sense useful: these, once

produced, supply an unfailing source of idealization and expression for

our emotions, whether in public or in private. It is enough, if the

interpreter of these works and his audience have been so educated as to

appreciate what is perfect, and reject mediocrity. Organs of unusual

power will arise occasionally, as in former times, from all sections of

society, whenever the need of representing new emotions may be felt.

But they will come more frequently from the philosophic class in whose

character, when it is fully developed, Sympathy will be as prominent a

feature as System.

[Identity of esthetic and

scientific genius]

There is, in truth, no organic distinction between scientific and

poetic genius. The difference lies merely in their combinations of

thought, which are concrete and ideal in the one case, abstract and

real in the other. Both employ analysis at starting; both alike aim

ultimately at synthesis. The erroneous belief in their incompatibility

proceeds merely from the absolute spirit of metaphysical philosophy,

which so often leads us to mistake a transitory phase for the permanent

order. If it is the fact, as appears, that they have never been

actually combined in the same person, it is merely because the two

functions cannot be called into action at the same moment. A state of

society that calls for great philosophical efforts cannot be favourable

to poetry, because it involves a new elaboration of first principles;

and it is essential to Art that these should have been already

fixed. This is the reason why in history we find periods of esthetic

growth succeeding periods of great philosophical change, but never

co-existing. If we look at instances of great minds who were never able

to find their proper sphere, we see at once that had they risen at some

other time, they might have cultivated either poetry or philosophy,

as the case might be, with equal success. Diderot would no doubt

have been a great poet in a time more favourable to art; and Goethe,

under different political influences, might have been an eminent

philosopher. All scientific discoverers in whom the inductive faculty

has been more active than the deductive, have given manifest proof of

poetic capacity. Whether the powers of invention take an abstract or

a concrete direction, whether they are employed in discovering truth

or in idealizing it, the cerebral function is always essentially the

same. The difference is merely in the objects aimed at; and as these

alternate according to the circumstances of the time, they cannot

both be pursued simultaneously. The remarkably synthetic character of

Buffon’s genius may be looked on historically as an instance of fusion

of the scientific and esthetic spirit. Bossuet is even a more striking

instance of a mind equally capable of the deepest philosophy and of the

sublimest poetry, had the circumstances of his life given him a more

definite impulse in either direction.

It is then not unreasonable to expect, notwithstanding the opinion

usually maintained, that the philosophical class will furnish poets of

the highest rank when the time calls for them. To pass from scientific

thought to esthetic thought will not be difficult for minds of the

highest order; for in such minds there is always a natural inclination

towards the work which is most urgently required by their age. To

meet the technical conditions of the arts of sound and form, it will

be necessary to provide a few special masters, who, in consideration

of the importance of their services to general education, will be

looked upon as accessory members of the new spiritual power. But even

here the tendency to specialities will be materially restricted. This

exceptional position will only be given to men of sufficient esthetic

power to appreciate all the fine arts; and they should be capable of

practising at least the three arts of form simultaneously, as was done

by Italian painters in the sixteenth century.

As an ordinary rule, it is only by their appreciation and power of

explaining ideal Art in all its forms that our philosophers will

exhibit their esthetic faculty. They will not be actively engaged in

esthetic functions, except in the arrangement of public festivals.

But when the circumstances of the time are such as to call for great

epic or dramatic works, which implies the absence of any philosophical

question of the first importance, the most powerful minds among them

will become poets in the common sense of the word. As the work of

Co-ordination and that of Idealization will for the future alternate

with greater rapidity, we might conceive them, were man’s life longer,

performed by the same organ. But the shortness of life, and the

necessity of youthful vigour for all great undertakings, excludes this

hypothesis. I only mention it to illustrate the radical identity of two

forms of mental activity which are often supposed incompatible.

[Women’s poetry]

An additional proof of the esthetic capacity of the moderating power

in works of less difficulty, but admitting of greater frequency,

will be furnished by its feminine element. In the special arts, or

at least in the arts of form, but little can be expected of them,

because these demand more technical knowledge than they can well

acquire, and, moreover, the slow process of training would spoil the

spontaneousness which is so admirable in them. But for all poetic

composition which does not require intense or prolonged effort, women

of genius are better qualified than men. This they should consider as

their proper department intellectually, since their nature is not well

adapted for the discovery of scientific truth. When women have become

more systematically associated with the general movement of society

under the influence of the new system of education, they will do much

to elevate that class of poetry which relates to personal feelings

and to domestic life. Women are already better judges of such poetry

than men; and there is no reason why they should not excel them in

composing it. For the power of appreciating and that of producing are

in reality identical; the difference is in degree only, and it depends

greatly upon culture. The only kind of composition which seems to me

to be beyond their power is epic or dramatic poetry in which public

life is depicted. But in all its other branches, poetry would seem

their natural field of study; and one which, regarded always as an

exceptional occupation, is quite in keeping with the social duties

assigned to them. The affections of our home life cannot be better

portrayed than by those in whom they are found in their purest form,

and who, without training, combine talent and expression with the

tendency to idealize. Under a more perfect organization, then, of the

esthetic world than prevails at present, the larger portion of poetical

and perhaps also of musical productions, will pass into the hands of

the more loving sex. The advantage of this will be that the poetry of

private life will then rise to that high standard of moral purity of

which it so peculiarly admits, but which our coarser sex can never

attain without struggles which injure its spontaneity. The simple grace

of Lafontaine and the delicate sweetness of Petrarch will then be found

united with deeper and purer sympathies, so as to raise lyrical poetry

to a degree of perfection that has never yet been attained.

[People’s poetry]

The popular element of the spiritual power has not so well marked an

aptitude for art, since the active nature of their occupations hardly

admits of the same degree of intellectual life. But there is a minor

class of poems, where energy of character and freedom from worldly

cares are the chief sources of inspiration, for which working men

are better adapted than women, and far more so than philosophers.

When Positivist education has extended sufficiently to the People of

the West, poets and musicians will spontaneously arise, as in many

cases they have already risen, to give expression to its own special

aspirations. But independently of what may be due to individual

efforts, the People as a whole has an indirect but most important

influence upon the Progress of Art, from the fact of being the

principal source of language.

Such, then, is the position which Art will finally assume in the

Positive system. There will be no class at present, exclusively devoted

to it, with the exception of a few special masters. But there will be

a general education, enabling every class to appreciate all the modes

of idealization, and encouraging their culture among the three elements

which constitute the moral force of society and which are excluded

from political government. Among these there will be a division of

esthetic labour. Poetry descriptive of public life will emanate from

the philosophic class. The poetry of personal or domestic life will

be written by women or working men, according as affection or energy

may be the source of inspiration. Thus the form of mental activity

most appropriate to Humanity will be more specially developed among

those classes in which the various features of our nature are most

prominently exhibited. The only classes who cannot participate in

this pleasant task are those whose life is occupied by considerations

of power or wealth, and whose enjoyment of Art, though heightened by

the education which they in common with others will receive, must

remain essentially passive. Our idealizing powers will henceforth be

directly concentrated on a work of the highest social importance, the

purification of our moral nature. The speciality by which so much of

the natural charm of Art was lost will cease, and the moral dangers of

a life exclusively devoted to the faculty of expression, will exist no

longer.

[Value of Art in the present

crisis]

I have now shown the position which Art will occupy in the social

system as finally constituted. I have yet to speak of its influence in

the actual movement of regeneration which Positivism is inaugurating.

We have already seen that each of the three classes who participate

in this movement, assumes functions similar to those for which it is

ultimately destined; performing them in a more strenuous, though less

methodic way. This is obviously true of the philosophic class who

head the movement; nor is it less true of the proletariate, from whom

it derives its vigour, or of women, whose support gives it a moral

sanction. It is, therefore, at first sight probable that the same

will hold good of the esthetic conditions which are necessary to the

completeness of these three functions of the social organism. On closer

examination we shall find that this is the case.

[Construction of normal

types on the basis furnished

by philosophy]

The principal function of Art is to construct types on the basis

furnished by Science. Now this is precisely what is required for

inaugurating the new social system. However perfectly its first

principles may be elaborated by thinkers, they will still be not

sufficiently definite for the practical result. Systematic study of the

Past can only reveal the Future in general outline. Even in the simpler

sciences perfect distinctness is impossible without overstepping the

limits of actual proof. Still more, therefore, in Sociology will

the conclusions of Science fall always far short of that degree of

precision and clearness, without which no principle can be thoroughly

popularized. But at the point where Philosophy must always leave a

void, Poetry steps in and stimulates to practical action. In the early

periods of Polytheism, Poetry repaired the defects of the system

viewed dogmatically. Its value will be even greater in idealizing a

system founded, not upon imagination, but upon observation of fact.

In the next chapter I shall dwell at greater length on the service

which Poetry will render in representing the central conception of

Positivism. It will be easy to apply the same principle to other cases.

[Pictures of the Future of

Man]

In his efforts to accomplish this object, the Positivist poet will

naturally be led to form prophetic pictures of the regeneration of Man,

viewed in every aspect that admits of being ideally represented. And

this is the second service which Art will render to the cause of social

renovation; or rather it is an extension of the first. Systematic

formation of Utopias will in fact become habitual; on the distinct

understanding that, as in every other branch of art, the ideal shall

be kept in subordination to the real. The unlimited license which is

apparently given to Utopias by the unsettled character of the time

is in reality a bar to their practical influence, since even the

wildest dreamers shrink from extravagance that oversteps the ordinary

conditions of mental sanity. But when it is once understood that the

sphere of Imagination is simply that of explaining and giving life

to the conclusions of Reason, the severest thinkers will welcome its

influence; because so far from obscuring truth, it will give greater

distinctness to it than could be given by Science unassisted. Utopias

have, then, their legitimate purpose, and Positivism will strongly

encourage their formation. They form a class of poetry which, under

sound sociological principles, will prove of material service in

leading the people of the West towards the normal state. Each of the

five modes of Art may participate in this salutary influence; each in

its own way may give a foretaste of the beauty and greatness of the

new life that is now offered to the individual, to the family, and to

society.

[Contrasts with the past]

From this second mode in which Art assists the great work of

reconstruction we pass naturally to a third, which at the present

time is of equal importance. To remove the spell under which the

Western nations are still blinded to the Future by the decayed

ruins of the Past, all that is necessary is to bring these ruins

into comparison with the prophetic pictures of which we have been

speaking. Since the decline of Catholicism in the fourteenth century,

Art has exhibited a critical spirit alien to its true nature, which

is essentially synthetic. Henceforth it is to be constructive rather

than critical; yet this is not incompatible with the secondary object

of contending against opinions, and still more against modes of life,

which ought to have died out with the Catholic system, or with the

revolutionary period which followed it. But resistance to some of the

most deeply-rooted errors of the Past will not interfere with the

larger purpose of Positivist Art. No direct criticism will be needed.

Whether against theological or against metaphysical dogmas, argument

is henceforth needless, even in a philosophical treatise, much more so

in poetry. All that is needed is simple contrast, which in most cases

would be implied rather than expressed, of the procedure of Positivism

and Catholicism in reference to similar social and moral problems.

The scientific basis of such a contrast, is already furnished; it is

for Art to do the rest, since the appeal should be to Feeling rather

than to Reason. At the close of the last chapter I mentioned the

principal case in which this comparison would have been of service, the

introduction, namely, of Positivism to the two Southern nations. It was

the task that I had marked out for my saintly fellow-worker, for it is

one in which the esthetic powers of women would be peculiarly available.

In this, the third of its temporary functions, Positivist Art

approximates to its normal character. We have spoken of its

idealization of the Future, but here it will idealize the Past also.

Positivism cannot be accepted until it has rendered the fullest

and most scrupulous justice to Catholicism. Our poets, so far from

detracting from the moral and political worth of the mediaeval system,

will begin by doing all the honour to it that is consistent with

philosophical truth, as a prelude to the still higher beauty of the

system which supersedes it. It will be the inauguration of their

permanent office of restoring the Past to life. For it is equally in

the interest of systematic thought and of social sympathy that the

relation of the Past to the Future should be deeply impressed upon all.

But these three steps towards the incorporation of Art into the

final order, though not far distant, cannot be taken immediately.

They presuppose a degree of intellectual preparation which is not

yet reached either by the public or by its esthetic teachers. The

present generation under which, in France, the great revolution is

now peacefully entering upon its second phase, may diffuse Positivism

largely, not merely amongst qualified thinkers, but among the people

of Paris, who are entrusted with the destinies of Western Europe, and

among women of nobler nature. The next generation, growing up in the

midst of this movement, may, before the expiration of a century from

the date of the Convention, complete spontaneously the moral and mental

inauguration of the new system, by exhibiting the new esthetic features

which Humanity in her regenerate condition will assume.

Let us now sum up the conclusions of this chapter. We have found

Positive Philosophy peculiarly favourable to the continuous development

of all the fine arts. A doctrine which encourages Humanity to strive

for perfection of every kind, cannot but foster and assimilate that

form of mental activity by which our sense of perfection is so highly

stimulated. It controls the Ideal, indeed, by systematic study of the

Real; but only in order to furnish it with an objective basis, and so

to secure its coherence and its moral value. Placed on this footing,

our esthetic faculties are better adapted than the scientific, both to

the nature and range of our understanding, and also to that which is

the object of all intellectual effort, the organization of human unity.

For they are more immediately connected with Feeling, on which the

unity of our nature must rest. Next to direct culture of the heart, it

is in ideal Art that we shall find the best assistance in our efforts

to become more loving and more noble.

Logically, Art should have a salutary influence upon our intellectual

faculties, because it familiarizes us from childhood with the features

by which all constructive efforts of man should be characterized.

Science has for a long time preferred the analytic method, whereas Art,

even in these times of anarchy, always aims at Synthesis, which is the

final goal of all intellectual activity. Even when Art, contrary to its

nature, undertakes to destroy, it cannot do its work, whatever it be,

without constructing. Thus, by implanting a taste and faculty for ideal

construction, Art enables us to build with greater effect than ever

upon the more stubborn soil of reality.

On all these grounds Art, in the Positive system, is made the primary

basis of general education. In a subsequent stage education assumes

a more scientific character, with the object of supplying systematic

notions of the external world. But in after life Art resumes its

original position. There the ordinary functions of the spiritual power

will be esthetic rather than scientific. The three elements of which

the modifying power is composed will become spontaneously the organs

of idealization, a function which will henceforth never be dissociated

from the power of philosophic synthesis.

Such a combination implies that the new philosophers shall have a true

feeling for all the fine arts. In ordinary times passive appreciation

of them will suffice; but there will occasionally be periods where

philosophic effort ceases to be necessary, and which call rather for

the vigour of the poet; and at these times the more powerful minds

among them should be capable of rising to the loftiest creative

efforts. Difficult as the condition may be, it is essential to the

full degree of moral influence of which their office admits and which

their work requires. The priest of Humanity will not have attained his

full measure of superiority over the priest of God, until, with the

intellect of the Philosopher, he combines the enthusiasm of the Poet,

as well as the tenderness of Woman, and the People’s energy.