The second statement is undoubtedly far more rational and consistent

with fact than the first; but I cannot think it is a just or adequate

account of the growth of intelligence, either in the individual man, or

in the human species. Any one who will carefully watch the development

of the intellect of a child will perceive that, from the first, its mind

is mirroring nature in two different ways. On the one hand, it is merely

drinking in sensations and building up associations, while it forms

conceptions of things and their relations which are more thoroughly

"positive," or devoid of entanglement with hypotheses of any kind, than

they will ever be in after-life. No child has recourse to imaginary

personifications in order to account for the ordinary properties of

objects which are not alive, or do not represent living things. It does

not imagine that the taste of sugar is brought about by a god of

sweetness, or that a spirit of jumping causes a ball to bound. Such

phænomena, which form the basis of a very large part of its ideas, are

taken as matters of course--as ultimate facts which suggest no

difficulty and need no explanation. So far as all these common, though

important, phænomena are concerned, the child's mind is in what M. Comte

would call the "positive" state.

But, side by side with this mental condition, there rises another. The

child becomes aware of itself as a source of action and a subject of

passion and of thought. The acts which follow upon its own desires are

among the most interesting and prominent of surrounding occurrences; and

these acts, again, plainly arise either out of affections caused by

surrounding things, or of other changes in itself. Among these

surrounding things, the most interesting and important are mother and

father, brethren and nurses. The hypothesis that these wonderful

creatures are of like nature to itself is speedily forced upon the

child's mind; and this primitive piece of anthropomorphism turns out to

be a highly successful speculation, which finds its justification at

every turn. No wonder, then, that it is extended to other similarly

interesting objects which are not too unlike these--to the dog, the cat,

and the canary, the doll, the toy, and the picture-book--that these are

endowed with wills and affections, and with capacities for being "good"

and "naughty." But surely it would be a mere perversion of language to

call this a "theological" state of mind, either in the proper sense of

the word "theological," or as contrasted with "scientific" or

"positive." The child does not worship either father or mother, dog or

doll. On the contrary, nothing is more curious than the absolute

irreverence, if I may so say, of a kindly-treated young child; its

tendency to believe in itself as the centre of the universe, and its

disposition to exercise despotic tyranny over those who could crush it

with a finger.

Still less is there anything unscientific, or anti-scientific, in this

infantile anthropomorphism. The child observes that many phænomena are

the consequences of affections of itself; it soon has excellent reasons

for the belief that many other phænomena are consequences of the

affections of other beings, more or less like itself. And having thus

good evidence for believing that many of the most interesting

occurrences about it are explicable on the hypothesis that they are the

work of intelligences like itself--having discovered a _vera causa_ for

many phænomena--why should the child limit the application of so

fruitful an hypothesis? The dog has a sort of intelligence, so has the

cat; why should not the doll and the picture-book also have a share,

proportioned to their likeness to intelligent things?

The only limit which does arise is exactly that which, as a matter of

science, should arise; that is to say, the anthropomorphic

interpretation is applied only to those phænomena which, in their

general nature, or their apparent capriciousness, resemble those which

the child observes to be caused by itself, or by beings like itself. All

the rest are regarded as things which explain themselves, or are

inexplicable.

It is only at a later stage of intellectual development that the

intelligence of man awakes to the apparent conflict between the

anthropomorphic, and what I may call the physical,[22] aspect of

nature, and either endeavours to extend the anthropomorphic view over

the whole of nature--which is the tendency of theology; or to give the

same exclusive predominance to the physical view--which is the tendency

of science; or adopts a middle course, and taking from the

anthropomorphic view its tendency to personify, and from the physical

view its tendency to exclude volition and affection, ends in what M.

Comte calls the "metaphysical" state--"metaphysical," in M. Comte's

writings, being a general term of abuse for anything he does not like.

What is true of the individual is, _mutatis mutandis_, true of the

intellectual development of the species. It is absurd to say of men in a

state of primitive savagery, that all their conceptions are in a

theological state. Nine-tenths of them are eminently realistic, and as

"positive" as ignorance and narrowness can make them. It no more occurs

to a savage than it does to a child, to ask the why of the daily and

ordinary occurrences which form the greater part of his mental life. But

in regard to the more striking, or out-of-the-way, events, which force

him to speculate, he is highly anthropomorphic; and, as compared with a

child, his anthropomorphism is complicated by the intense impression

which the death of his own kind makes upon him, as indeed it well may.

The warrior, full of ferocious energy, perhaps the despotic chief of

his tribe, is suddenly struck down. A child may insult the man a moment

before so awful; a fly rests, undisturbed, on the lips from which

undisputed command issued. And yet the bodily aspect of the man seems

hardly more altered than when he slept, and, sleeping, seemed to himself

to leave his body and wander through dreamland. What then if that

something, which is the essence of the man, has really been made to

wander by the violence done to it, and is unable, or has forgotten, to

come back to its shell? Will it not retain somewhat of the powers it

possessed during life? May it not help us if it be pleased, or (as seems

to be by far the more general impression) hurt us if it be angered? Will

it not be well to do towards it those things which would have soothed

the man and put him in good humour during his life? It is impossible to

study trustworthy accounts of savage thought without seeing, that some

such train of ideas as this, lies at the bottom of their speculative

beliefs.

There are savages without God, in any proper sense of the word, but none

without ghosts. And the Fetishism, Ancestor-worship, Hero-worship, and

Demonology of primitive savages, are all, I believe, different manners

of expression of their belief in ghosts, and of the anthropomorphic

interpretation of out-of-the-way events, which is its concomitant.

Witchcraft and sorcery are the practical expressions of these beliefs;

and they stand in the same relation to religious worship as the simple

anthropomorphism of children, or savages, does to theology.

In the progress of the species from savagery to advanced civilization,

anthropomorphism grows into theology, while physicism (if I may so call

it) develops into science; but the development of the two is

contemporaneous, not successive. For each, there long exists an assured

province which is not invaded by the other; while, between the two, lies

a debateable land, ruled by a sort of bastards, who owe their complexion

to physicism and their substance to anthropomorphism, and are M. Comte's

particular aversions--metaphysical entities.

But, as the ages lengthen, the borders of Physicism increase. The

territories of the bastards are all annexed to science; and even

Theology, in her purer forms, has ceased to be anthropomorphic, however

she may talk. Anthropomorphism has taken stand in its last fortress--man

himself. But science closely invests the walls; and Philosophers gird

themselves for battle upon the last and greatest of all speculative

problems--Does human nature possess any free, volitional, or truly

anthropomorphic element, or is it only the cunningest of all Nature's

clocks? Some, among whom I count myself, think that the battle will for

ever remain a drawn one, and that, for all practical purposes, this

result is as good as anthropomorphism winning the day.

The classification of the sciences, which, in the eyes of M. Comte's

adherents, constitutes his second great claim to the dignity of a

scientific philosopher, appears to me to be open to just the same

objections as the law of the three states. It is inconsistent in itself,

and it is inconsistent with fact. Let us consider the main points of

this classification successively:--

"Il faut distinguer par rapport à tous les ordres des phénomènes,

deux genres de sciences naturelles; les unes abstraites,

générales, ont pour objet la découverte des lois qui régissent les

diverses classes de phénomènes, en considérant tous les cas qu'on

peut concevoir; les autres concrètes, particulières, descriptives,

et qu'on désigne quelquefois sous le nom des sciences naturelles

proprement dites, consistent dans l'application de ces lois à

l'histoire effective des différents êtres existants."[23]

The "abstract" sciences are subsequently said to be mathematics,

astronomy, physics, chemistry, physiology, and social physics--the

titles of the two latter being subsequently changed to biology and

sociology. M. Comte exemplifies the distinction between his abstract and

his concrete sciences as follows:--

"On pourra d'abord l'apercevoir très-nettement en comparant, d'une

part, la physiologie générale, et d'une autre part la zoologie et

la botanique proprement dites. Ce sont évidemment, en effet, deux

travaux d'un caractère fort distinct, que d'étudier, en général,

les lois de la vie, ou de déterminer le mode d'existence de chaque

corps vivant, en particulier. _Cette seconde étude, en outre, est

nécessairememt fondée sur la première._"--P. 57.

All the unreality and mere bookishness of M. Comte's knowledge of

physical science comes out in the passage I have italicised. "The

special study of living beings is based upon a general study of the laws

of life!" What little I know about the matter leads me to think, that,

if M. Comte had possessed the slightest practical acquaintance with

biological science, he would have turned his phraseology upside down,

and have perceived that we can have no knowledge of the general laws of

life, except that which is based upon the study of particular living

beings.

The illustration is surely unluckily chosen; but the language in which

these so-called abstract sciences are defined seems to me to be still

more open to criticism. With what propriety can astronomy, or physics,

or chemistry, or biology, be said to occupy themselves with the

consideration of "all conceivable cases" which fall within their

respective provinces? Does the astronomer occupy himself with any other

system of the universe than that which is visible to him? Does he

speculate upon the possible movements of bodies which may attract one

another in the inverse proportion of the cube of their distances, say?

Does biology, whether "abstract" or "concrete," occupy itself with any

other form of life than those which exist, or have existed? And, if the

abstract sciences embrace all conceivable cases of the operation of the

laws with which they are concerned, would not they, necessarily, embrace

the subjects of the concrete sciences, which, inasmuch as they exist,

must needs be conceivable? In fact, no such distinction as that which M.

Comte draws is tenable. The first stage of his classification breaks by

its own weight.

But granting M. Comte his six abstract sciences, he proceeds to arrange

them according to what he calls their natural order or hierarchy, their

places in this hierarchy being determined by the degree of generality

and simplicity of the conceptions with which they deal. Mathematics

occupies the first, astronomy the second, physics the third, chemistry

the fourth, biology the fifth, and sociology the sixth and last place in

the series. M. Comte's arguments in favour of this classification are

first--

"Sa conformité essentielle avec la co-ordination, en quelque sorte

spontanée, qui se trouve en effet implicitement admise par les

savants livrés à l'étude des diverse branches de la philosophie

naturelle."

But I absolutely deny the existence of this conformity. If there is one

thing clear about the progress of modern science, it is the tendency to

reduce all scientific problems, except those which are purely

mathematical, to questions of molecular physics--that is to, say, to the

attractions, repulsions, motions, and co-ordination of the ultimate

particles of matter. Social phænomena are the result of the interaction

of the components of society, or men, with one another and the

surrounding universe. But, in the language of physical science, which,

by the nature of the case, is materialistic, the actions of men, so far

as they are recognisable by science, are the results of molecular

changes in the matter of which they are composed; and, in the long run,

these must come into the hands of the physicist. _A fortiori_, the

phænomena of biology and of chemistry are, in their ultimate analysis,

questions of molecular physics. Indeed, the fact is acknowledged by all

chemists and biologists who look beyond their immediate occupations. And

it is to be observed, that the phænomena of biology are as directly and

immediately connected with molecular physics as are those of chemistry.

Molar physics, chemistry, and biology are not three successive steps in

the ladder of knowledge, as M. Comte would have us believe, but three

branches springing from the common stem of molecular physics.

As to astronomy, I am at a loss to understand how any one who will give

a moment's attention to the nature of the science can fail to see that

it consists of two parts: first, of a description of the phænomena,

which is as much entitled as descriptive zoology, or botany, is, to the

name of natural history; and, secondly, of an explanation of the

phænomena, furnished by the laws of a force--gravitation--the study of

which is as much a part of physics, as is that of heat, or electricity.

It would be just as reasonable to make the study of the heat of the sun

a science preliminary to the rest of thermotics, as to place the study

of the attraction of the bodies, which compose the universe in general,

before that of the particular terrestrial bodies, which alone we can

experimentally know. Astronomy, in fact, owes its perfection to the

circumstance that it is the only branch of natural history, the

phænomena of which are largely expressible by mathematical conceptions,

and which can be, to a great extent, explained by the application of

very simple physical laws.

With regard to mathematics, it is to be observed, in the first place,

that M. Comte mixes up under that head the pure relations of space and

of quantity, which are properly included under the name, with rational

mechanics and statics, which are mathematical developments of the most

general conceptions of physics, namely, the notions of force and of

motion. Relegating these to their proper place in physics, we have left

pure mathematics, which can stand neither at the head, nor at the tail,

of any hierarchy of the sciences, since, like logic, it is equally

related to all; though the enormous practical difficulty of applying

mathematics to the more complex phænomena of nature removes them, for

the present, out of its sphere.

On this subject of mathematics, again, M. Comte indulges in assertions

which can only be accounted for by his total ignorance of physical

science practically. As for example:--

"C'est donc par l'étude des mathématiques, _et seulement par elle_,

que l'on peut se faire une idée juste et approfondie de ce que

c'est qu'une _science_. C'est là _uniquement_ qu'on doit chercher à

connaître avec précision _la méthode générale que l'esprit humain

emploie constamment dans toutes ses recherches positives_, parce

que nulle part ailleurs les questions ne sont résolues d'une

manière aussi complète et les déductions prolongées aussi loin avec

une sévérité rigoureuse. C'est là également que notre entendement a

donné les plus grandes preuves de sa force, parce que les ideés

qu'il y considère sont du plus haut degré d'abstraction possible

dans l'ordre positif. _Toute éducation scientifique qui ne commence

point par une telle étude pèche donc nécessairement par sa

base._"[24]

That is to say, the only study which can confer "a just and

comprehensive idea of what is meant by science," and, at the same time,

furnish an exact conception of the general method of scientific

investigation, is that which knows nothing of observation, nothing of

experiment, nothing of induction, nothing of causation! And education,

the whole secret of which consists in proceeding from the easy to the

difficult, the concrete to the abstract, ought to be turned the other

way, and pass from the abstract to the concrete.

M. Comte puts a second argument in favour of his hierarchy of the

sciences thus:--

"Un second caractère très-essentiel de notre classification, c'est

d'être nécessairement conforme à l'ordre effectif du développement

de la philosophie naturelle. C'est ce que vérifie tout ce qu'on

sait de l'histoire des sciences."[25]

But Mr. Spencer has so thoroughly and completely demonstrated the

absence of any correspondence between the historical development of the

sciences, and their position in the Comtean hierarchy, in his essay on

the "Genesis of Science," that I shall not waste time in repeating his

refutation.

A third proposition in support of the Comtean classification of the

sciences stands as follows:--

"En troisième lieu cette classification présente la propriété

très-remarquable de marquer exactement la perfection relative des

différentes sciences, laquelle consiste essentiellement dans le

degré de précision des connaissances et dans leur co-ordination

plus ou moins intime."[26]

I am quite unable to understand the distinction which M. Comte

endeavours to draw in this passage in spite of his amplifications

further on. Every science must consist of precise knowledge, and that

knowledge must be co-ordinated into general proportions, or it is not

science. When M. Comte, in exemplification of the statement I have

cited, says that "les phénomènes organiques ne comportent qu'une étude à

la fois moins exacte et moins systématique que les phénomènes des corps

bruts," I am at a loss to comprehend what he means. If I affirm that

"when a motor nerve is irritated, the muscle connected with it becomes

simultaneously shorter and thicker, without changing its volume," it

appears to me that the statement is as precise or exact (and not merely

as true) as that of the physicist who should say, that "when a piece of

iron is heated, it becomes simultaneously longer and thicker and

increases in volume;" nor can I discover any difference, in point of

precision, between the statement of the morphological law that "animals

which suckle their young have two occipital condyles," and the

enunciation of the physical law that "water subjected to electrolysis

is replaced by an equal weight of the gases, oxygen and hydrogen." As

for anatomical or physiological investigation being less "systematic"

than that of the physicist or chemist, the assertion is simply

unaccountable. The methods of physical science are everywhere the same

in principle, and the physiological investigator who was not

"systematic" would, on the whole, break down rather sooner than the

inquirer into simpler subjects.

Thus M. Comte's classification of the sciences, under all its aspects,

appears to me to be a complete failure. It is impossible, in an article

which is already too long, to inquire how it may be replaced by a

better; and it is the less necessary to do so, as a second edition of

Mr. Spencer's remarkable essay on this subject has just been published.

After wading through pages of the long-winded confusion and second-hand

information of the "Philosophic Positive," at the risk of a _crise

cérébrale_--it is as good as a shower-bath to turn to the

"Classification of the Sciences," and refresh oneself with Mr. Spencer's

profound thought, precise knowledge, and clear language.

II. The second proposition to which I have committed myself, in the

paper to which I have been obliged to refer so often, is, that the

"Positive Philosophy" contains "a great deal which is as thoroughly

antagonistic to the very essence of science as is anything in

ultramontane Catholicism."

What I refer to in these words, is, on the one hand, the dogmatism and

narrowness which so often mark M. Comte's discussion of doctrines which

he does not like, and reduce his expressions of opinion to mere

passionate puerilities; as, for example, when he is arguing against the

assumption of an ether, or when he is talking (I cannot call it arguing)

against psychology, or political economy. On the other hand, I allude to

the spirit of meddling systematization and regulation which animates

even the "Philosophic Positive," and breaks out, in the latter volumes

of that work, into no uncertain foreshadowing of the anti-scientific

monstrosities of Comte's later writings.

Those who try to draw a line of demarcation between the spirit of the

"Philosophic Positive," and that of the "Politique" and its successors,

(if I may express an opinion from fragmentary knowledge of these last,)

must have overlooked, or forgotten, what Comte himself labours to show,

and indeed succeeds in proving, in the "Appendice Général" of the

"Politique Positive." "Dès mon début," he writes, "je tentai de fonder

le nouveau pouvoir spirituel que j'institue aujourd'hui." "Ma politique,

loin d'être aucunement opposée à ma philosophie, en constitue tellement

la suite naturelle que celle-ci fut directement instituée pour servir de

base à celle-là, comme le prouve cet appendice."[27]

This is quite true. In the remarkable essay entitled "Considérations sur

le Pouvoir spirituel," published in March 1826, Comte advocates the

establishment of a "modern spiritual power," which, he anticipates, may

exercise an even greater influence over temporal affairs, than did the

Catholic clergy, at the height of their vigour and independence, in the

twelfth century. This spiritual power is, in fact, to govern opinion,

and to have the supreme control over education, in each nation of the

West; and the spiritual powers of the several European peoples are to be

associated together and placed under a common direction or "souveraineté

spirituelle."

A system of "Catholicism _minus_ Christianity" was therefore completely

organized in Comte's mind, four years before the first volume of the

"Philosophie Positive" was written; and, naturally, the papal spirit

shows itself in that work, not only in the ways I have already

mentioned, but, notably, in the attack on liberty of conscience which

breaks out in the fourth volume:--

"Il n'y a point de liberté de conscience en astronomie, en

physique, en chimie, en physiologie même, en ce sens que chacun

trouverait absurde de ne pas croire de confiance aux principes

établis dans les sciences par les hommes compétents."

"Nothing in ultramontane Catholicism" can, in my judgment, be more

completely sacerdotal, more entirely anti-scientific, than this dictum.

All the great steps in the advancement of science have been made by just

those men who have not hesitated to doubt the "principles established in

the sciences by competent persons;" and the great teaching of

science--the great use of it as an instrument of mental discipline--is

its constant inculcation of the maxim, that the sole ground on which any

statement has a right to be believed is the impossibility of refuting

it.

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