Comte, then, was essentially a social philosopher. His work, indeed,

is encyclopaedic--not one whit less so than Spencer's--but the aim he

persistently kept in view was the service of man by the reconstruction,

through philosophy and religion, of the foundations on which

civilisation rests. It is impossible not to be impressed by the

grandeur of his conception, and the consuming energy with which he

addressed himself to its realisation. He seems to recall to us

Browning's Paracelsus, whose "vast longings" urged him forward to some

surpassing achievement, to some heroic attempt

To save mankind,

To make some unexampled sacrifice

In their behalf, to wring some wonderous good

From heaven or earth for them.

When a young man of only twenty-four years, he had already published

his first work, entitled _A Plan of Scientific Works necessary to

reorganise Society_, thus striking the keynote of his career. We can

feel nothing but the strongest admiration for the man who from the

first determines to subordinate knowledge, life and love, to the

service of the human race. It was Comte's incessant teaching that the

sciences were to be cultivated, not as ends in themselves, but as means

whereby to further human welfare. He would have the astronomer and

physiologist pursue their tasks, not merely for the sake of acquiring

knowledge, for the gratification of the curiosity to know, but for the

betterment of man's lot. And for the same reason he insisted on the

pre-eminence of the sympathetic affections over the intellect. The

reason, he declared, must ever be the servant, _though not the slave_,

of the emotions. Altruism, or the service of others (a word of his own

coining), must be made to prevail over egoism or selfishness. There

could not be a nobler conception of human duty.

What was the source of the miseries which had driven the people of

France to rebellion but the selfishness of absolute monarchs, of

dissolute nobles who ground their dependants to the dust of

destitution, and of a corrupt hierarchy of clergymen contemptuous of

the people, hypocritical in their conduct, and slaves of the crown? An

astounding revelation that elementary religion should be preached again

in France by a layman who had turned his back in disappointment on all

that priests and the past represented!

And what is the source of the degradation of our own cities but this

same curse of selfishness which is ready to march to opulence and

luxury over the bodies of the starved and poisoned toilers of our towns

and factories, and thinks it can justify its barbarity by an off-hand

reference to Political Economy and its irrefragable laws? "Supply and

demand"--sacrosanct enactments of man's brains--how shall they prevail

over the clear dictates of the conscience that thunder in our ears that

it is murderous to grind the life out of the poor in the name of an

economical fetish? Is not the man more than the meat, and the body

more than the raiment? How shall not man, then, be better than many

economical laws? If the laws outrage our sense of justice, then are

they false laws, because false to reason, and they must be abolished.

The unrestricted domination of the competition theory which urges men

to buy in the cheapest and sell in the dearest market, and pay the very

lowest wages that poor outcasts are forced in their destitution to

accept--is that to be the permanent condition of large masses of

toilers in the towns of the richest country in the world? Is the

matchbox-maker to go on for ever turning out a gross for 2 1/4d.,

providing her own paste and string? Are wretched women to toil from

morning till night folding sheets--sheets of cheap bibles at 10s. a

week and pay lodging and keep a family out of it? Are men and women to

be decimated by consumption in the poisoned atmosphere of some of our

factories? No commonwealth can exist on such a basis, and if

economical laws are invoked in its support, those laws are an infamy.

No wonder Carlyle fiercely denounced it all as "a wretched,

unsympathetic, scraggy atheism and egoism".

Well, Auguste Comte had witnessed all this and possibly worse than this

in Prance. He knew the institutions of his country and of his age, and

he came to the deliberate conclusion that if any progress was to be

made, if this degrading egoism was to be put down, this callous

insensibility on the part of employers towards the labourers, whose

slow martyrdom produces the wealth they enjoy, the whole scheme of

social philosophy would have to be reconsidered and a new foundation

provided whereon to build the commonwealth. "You want altruism in

place of egoism; sympathy instead of selfishness," he preached. "How

are you going to obtain it? For eighteen centuries now you have been

walking in one beaten path, following one and the same light, listening

to the same spiritual guides. What have they taught you? Whither have

they led you? To the impasse which you have now reached. Has not the

time come to begin anew; to reconstruct, to reorganise society? And

this time it must be _sans dieu, sans roi, par le culte systématique de

l'Humanité_."

Such is the remedy proposed by Auguste Comte for the malady of the

modern world; this is his revolutionary scheme for the establishment of

society on such a basis as would conduce to progress. It involves, as

may be seen, the disavowal of the belief in God and king; the

substitution of a republic for a monarchy, and of humanity for God.

Comte conceived religion as the concentration of the three great

altruistic affections, namely, of _reverence_ towards that which is

above us; of _love_ towards that which helps and sustains us, and

_benevolence_ towards that which needs our co-operation. Religion

being in his judgment a supreme concern of life, though always

subordinated to the larger interest of social welfare, he was anxious

to provide the new commonwealth with an idealism which should set

before man a Being able to evoke these three great emotions. Formerly

man had bestowed them on God; Comte thought he had found a more

excellent way in suggesting that they might far more appropriately and

profitably be exercised on mankind. The service of God, therefore,

being changed into the service of man, he contended that the course of

things would set steadily in a higher direction, because all the

immense energy and enthusiasm which the worship of God had been able to

provoke in the past would be available in the cause of suffering,

down-trodden and persecuted humanity. He wished to dam the stream of

devotion flowing towards the churches and God, and divert it into

channels that had far greater need of it--the unsatisfied and

unprovided needs of all mankind.

Is it urged that religion apart from a belief in God is an

impossibility? Doubtless such is the conviction of great numbers of

people, and, it must be confessed, such usage of the word is not

consonant with prevalent custom. Still the emotion which Comte

experienced for Humanity was such as no other word would adequately

express. As Mr. Mill remarks in his chapters on the Positivist System

(p. 133)--

It has been said that whoever believes in the infinite nature of duty,

even if he believe in nothing else, is religious. Comte believes in

what is meant by the infinite nature of duty, but he refers the

obligations of duty, as well as all sentiments of devotion, to a

concrete object, at once ideal and real; the human race, conceived as a

continuous whole, including the past, the present and the future. . . .

Candid persons of all creeds may be willing to admit that if a person

has an ideal object, his attachment and sense of duty towards which are

able to control and discipline all his other sentiments and

propensities, and prescribe to him a rule of life, that person has a

religion. . . . The power which may be acquired over the mind by the

idea of the general interest of the human race, both as a source of

emotion and as a motive to conduct, many have perceived; but we know

not if any one before Comte realised so fully as he has done all the

majesty of which that idea is susceptible. It ascends into the unknown

recesses of the past, embraces the manifold present, and descends into

the indefinite and unforeseeable future. Forming a collective

existence without assignable beginning or end, it appeals to that

feeling of the infinite which is deeply rooted in human nature, and

which seems necessary to the imposingness of all our highest

conceptions.

However, we must now endeavour to briefly trace the steps whereby Comte

arrived at what certainly must be acknowledged a most startling

conclusion.

A study of universal history, of which he must be acknowledged an

absolute master, had convinced him that all human institutions, be they

beliefs, forms of society or government, scientific conceptions, or

modes of thought in general, have passed through three distinct stages.

These three stages he called the theological, metaphysical and

positive. In the first stage history shows that man explained the

origin of everything by explicit reference to wills like his own,

though, of course, invisible; and ultimately, by an appeal to one

supreme Will. Thus, a thunderstorm, the rise and setting of the sun,

the ebb and flow of tides, the succession of seasons and crops are all

explained by the agency of unseen wills, powers, or divinities. As

time advances, progress is so far made that all minor deities are

merged in the belief in one supreme Being who created the universe and

is ever responsible for its continuance in existence.

But man at length awakens to the need of a more proximate explanation

of phenomena, and, by such experiment as he is capable of, endeavours

to ascertain, through their intrinsic properties or their outward

manifestations, the cause or causes of their being. He leaves the

skies and comes to earth, and seeks to read the secret of things by

examining the things in themselves. This, Comte denominates the

"metaphysical" stage, mainly, because the solutions given were bound up

with abstractions of physical realities. Thus, if you asked Aristotle

why a vegetable grew, he would reply that it had a "nutritive soul," or

principle, which enabled it to assimilate food. If one asked why heavy

bodies fall, or why flame and smoke ascend, the answer would be because

everything tends to go to its _natural_ place, implying, thereby, that

there was some occult power or tendency in bodies to behave in certain

definite ways. Those were the days of the time-honoured legends about

Nature "abhorring a vacuum," tolerating no "breaks," and the wonders of

her "curative force". These phrases about abstractions were held to be

adequate explanations of any of the facts about nature or man.

At length, there came the period when men demanded a straightforward

answer to plain questions, and refused to acquiesce in the reply that

opium puts us to sleep because there is a _dormitive virtue_ resident

in it. The powers of observation and experiment having increased, it

became possible by scientific test and analysis to satisfy the desire

for a more immediate knowledge, and thus to discover, for example, that

water is water, not because it possesses the form of _aquosity_, as the

Scholastics would have said, but because it is chemically composed of

oxygen and hydrogen. This last stage Comte called the "positive," and

hence we perceive what he means when he calls his entire system by that

name. It marks his conviction that those methods which are so

successful in the discovery of truth in scientific matters should be

applied to the solution of the problems of sociology and religion. In

other words, "positive" and scientific are practically synonymous

terms, the system pledging its followers to hold nothing which is not

its own evidence, to abandon all attempts to know anything which is not

phenomenal, that is, an object of sense-experience, and consequently to

disavow metaphysics as practically equivalent to the unreal. Thus, for

Comte, sociology, of which he may truthfully be described as the

founder, is as much a science as chemistry or astronomy. It deals with

its subject-matter, man, in precisely the same way as the astronomer

with the stars. And the same is also true of religion.

Such is the famous _Law of the three States_, which has always been

treated by friend and foe as the key to the Comtean philosophy. It

only concerns us now to describe the use he made of it in abolishing

the belief in God, and thus attempting to revolutionise the conception

of religion.

Closely associated with his Law of the three States is another which he

calls the _Law of the Wills and Causes_. In fact, there is practically

no difference between that law and the first or theological stage

through which human knowledge goes. It may be enunciated thus:

Whenever the human mind is in ignorance of the proximate causes of a

given phenomenon, it tends to ascribe it to the agency of superior and

invisible powers. Hence, ignorance of nature, which modern science has

largely remedied, led men to ascribe to "the act of God" innumerable

events, even the appearance of Halley's comet, which we now

unhesitatingly refer to subordinate agencies. Why, then, urged Comte,

should we continue to believe in even one supreme Cause, when we may

hope, with the advance of science, to give an explanation of every

natural occurrence or fact? Convinced on social grounds that belief in

the Deity had been of no service to mankind, he sought for

philosophical reasons to justify his surrendering the tenet, and thus

formulated the famous law which has just been enunciated. If that law

is valid and universal in its application, we should have to surrender

all hope of Comte's co-operation with what we hold to be rational

religion. But it is because I am so convinced that it is that very

law, so finely framed and stated by Comte, which makes it impossible to

dispense with belief in a supra-mundane Power, that I adhere to the

ideal which I sketched in the beginning, that Kant and Comte will be

found to be, after Christ, the master builders of the second temple

which is to be the religious home of the ages to come.

For what does his famous law amount to? To nothing beyond this, that

we are warranted in believing that no single fact, no individual

phenomenon, of nature exists, but will be one day explained by the

all-conquering advance of physical science. But surely his most

enthusiastic adherent will admit that when every phenomenon has been

singly explained, only half the work, and that by far the less

significant part, has been done. If the human mind is eager, and

legitimately eager, to explore the scene of nature's manifestations,

much more will it be necessary to attempt some solution of the vaster

fact of their concatenation, of their miraculous combination into that

whole which we call the universe. It is not so much the isolated

phenomena which strike the mind with such overpowering bewilderment, as

the manifest fact that in their infinite diversity and innumerable

varieties, they are all subordinated to one vast end--the constitution

and the good of the whole. Explain every sun that lines the eternal

path into the Infinities, where no telescope can penetrate--what is

that to the mind that knows that the numberless series is bound

together by laws which they as unhesitatingly obey as an animal when it

walks? Hence, by the very terms of his own law, Comte is compelled to

restore to the human mind its belief in a Power other than the world,

for if our only justification for discarding that belief is that

science will explain one day the _individual_ phenomena of the

universe, it is plain that man's science can never hope to explain the

origin of the worlds themselves and the infinite complexities of their

mutual relations. And if science cannot hope to do that, the mind of

man must, under penalty of going to disruption, assent to the belief

that there is a World-Power who is responsible for the conscious

production of the universe, and therefore of ourselves.

And I am glad to be able to say that Comte never expressly excluded

this belief. On the contrary, he asserts that if a cosmic hypothesis

is to be held at all, that of an intelligent Mind is far more probable

than atheism. Indeed of atheism he has written as caustically as the

most orthodox could wish. He expressly contends that the theory of

design is far more probable than blind mechanism, and if he excludes

theism, it is not so much for philosophical as for social reasons.

Consumed with a passion for human betterment, seeing that the "love of

God" had deplorably failed as an incentive to morality, he made the

tremendous effort of endeavouring to substitute the love of man as a

stimulus towards the accomplishment of duty. If Comte denied God, let

the Churches and ecclesiastics of France and of Europe bear the

responsibility. It was the disastrous condition into which Europe had

fallen under their guidance which led him to despair of "God" as a

rallying point for humanity.

But there is, I submit, no inherent necessity in the Positivist system

to insist on the dogmatic exclusion of such theism as we profess under

the guidance of Emerson and Kant, and it is gratifying to be able to

quote so sympathetic a supporter as J. S. Mill in favour of this

interpretation. "Whoever regards all events as parts of a constant

order, each one being the invariable consequent of some antecedent

condition, or combination of conditions, accepts fully the positivist

mode of thought: whether he acknowledges or not an universal antecedent

on which the whole system of nature was originally consequent, and

whether that universal antecedent is conceived as an intelligence or

not." [1]

I need not say that to us who believe in Mind as the necessary

antecedent to all things, the positivist spirit, so defined, is

essential truth. We believe in the Great Being revealed in the eternal

order of the physical worlds and in the eternal order of the moral law.

Our worship of God is therefore a worship of goodness or morality, an

ideal of justice, as seen in the lives of only the elect spirits of the

race, and thus "the worship of Humanity" is also the worship of God.

For where is God revealed as _worshipful_ except in the lives of the

great and good? And if religion be defined to be morality as taught in

the lives of the holiest servants of mankind, in what do we differ

essentially from the ennobling conceptions of Auguste Comte? The

service of man is seen to be the service of God, for we know nothing of

God until we have learnt to serve goodness and minister to our brother

man. The day will come when Comte will be honoured in the universal

Church as an apostle of true religion, because, like Kant, he showed

men that there is nothing holier or diviner on this earth than a life

consciously conformed to the obedience of august laws. Comte, no less

than his brother philosopher, is a servant of humanity, and therefore a

servant of God, and we conceive that both thinkers have laid mankind

under an immeasurable debt by showing us that that emotion of reverence

which all men instinctively feel towards a Power greater than man,

cannot be worthily satisfied except by a conscious endeavour to live as

befits our rational nature, and to serve "the brethren" out of love.

[1] _Auguste Comte and Positivism_, p. 15.

XIII.

THE OLD FAITH AND THE NEW

AS SEEN IN _HELBECK OF BANNISDALE_.

Cynical observers of the tendencies of the age tell us that, like the

Athenians of Paul's days, we are "lovers of new things". Doubtless we

are, for this century, this "wonderful century," as it has recently

been described, is a new age or there never was one. Hence, just as

Spinoza saw everything _sub specie aeternitatis_, we may very well have

a tendency to see many things _sub specie novi_. New things,

astonishingly new things, in every imaginable department of life have

been witnessed by men who saw the opening years of the century, and

_fin-de-siècle_ as we are, the capacities of man are apparently as

inexhaustible as ever.

It would indeed be passing strange were religion an exception to the

uniform progress everywhere in operation. Doubtless the aspect of that

supreme concern of life does change less rapidly, but change it does

and must: _eppur si muove_. And it is significant, as one of the most

striking results of the beneficent movements of our time, that, in the

English-speaking countries at least, one of the most powerful, because

the most far-reaching, stimuli to religious progress has been supplied

by the hand of a woman.

It has always seemed to me that Mrs. Humphry Ward's _Robert Elsmere_

was the making of an epoch, and when so shrewd an observer of the

times, so enthusiastic an admirer of "the old ways" as Mr. Gladstone,

thought the book worth criticising and censuring, he bore eloquent

testimony to the effect it was evidently destined to produce. Its

influence has unquestionably been great. There are many people who owe

to it their first acquaintance with modern religious thought. Numbers

of the younger clergymen of the Establishment must have been profoundly

moved by it, because the faith of an Anglican is a comparatively

elastic thing compared with the rigidity of supernatural conceptions

which distinguishes the Roman Catholic communion. It may even be true

that these sporadic outbreaks of Ritualism, which are so seriously

threatening to "trouble Israel's peace," owe no little of their force

to the far-reaching effects of the new religious controversy. The

Newcomes of to-day, like their prototype in the novel, may very well

have come to the belief that there is no salvation from that besetting

demon of reason and "intellectual pride," but in a religion of

sensuousness and externalism which Sydney Smith, himself, of course, a

clergyman, once contemptuously designated as "painted jackets and

sanctified watering-pots". _Panem et Circenses_! Bread and games!

Give them fumes of incense, blare and blaze of sounds and lights, and

they may learn to forget that there ever was such a thing as a school

of biblical criticism which has turned orthodoxy into a heresy against

reason by telling the truth about the Bible.

Biblical inspiration being attenuated to almost vanishing point, there

is nothing left but to appeal to the Church--not, indeed, to the Church

of to-day, lost amid the mazes and intricacies of sects and schisms,

but to that venerable fiction, "the undivided Church" of the first few

centuries of our era, and thus brand religion with the stigma of

retrogression by proclaiming it the only thing which is incapable of

progress.

Not infrequently is a progressive movement attended at first by a

partial reaction, and it is not at all unlikely that Ritualistic

clergymen have been terrified into an increased reliance upon forms and

rites by the disastrous effects produced upon many of their followers

or fellow-churchmen by the new controversial methods of Mrs. Humphry

Ward.

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