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Note by Mr. Frederic Harrison v.

Translator's Preface xiii.

Introduction by Professor L?vy-Bruhl 1

INTRODUCTION.--The Philosophy of the Sciences 121

CONCLUSION 343

THE PHILOSOPHY OF AUGUSTE COMTE.

INTRODUCTION.

This rule of historical method, which Comte likes to recall, applies very well to his own system. In order to reach as complete an understanding as possible of his doctrine, to appreciate exactly its general orientation, to understand the importance which the author attaches in it to this or that part, the study of the text will not suffice. We must further take into account the historical circumstances in which the doctrine found its birth, the general movement of contemporary ideas, and the manifold influences which have reacted upon the mind of the philosopher.

All agree upon the first point. We must "reconstruct." An "organic" period must succeed the "critical" period which has just come to an end. According to Saint Simon's striking expression, humanity is not made to inhabit ruins. The revolutionary storm had been so formidable, the din so deafening, the social back-wash so violent, that no one exactly measured the effect which had been produced. Many institutions which had only been shaken seemed to be overthrown. A good part of the old r?gime had even gone through the crisis without being too greatly damaged, and had survived. But this fact, which was very well appreciated by the men of 1850, could not yet be discovered by the first generation of the century. It conscientiously believed that the old r?gime had crumbled altogether, and that the task either of restoring it, or of again laying down the very bases of society belonged to it. In this the first generation remained faithful to the spirit of the Revolution, which had considered itself as an effort to institute an entirely new social and political system, a thought in which the civilised world had shared. Now, in spite of the labours of the revolutionary assemblies, in spite of the power and of the great talent which the Convention had at its command, this ambitious hope had not been realised. The question remained open after the Directoire and after the Empire. When the old r?gime was supposed to have been destroyed, how was society to be "reorganised"?

Like many of his contemporaries Auguste Comte thought himself singled out for the mission of formulating the principle of "social reorganisation." But this is where he differs from them. Each of the reformers begins by proposing his own solution of the social problem, and all his efforts only tend to justify it. As this problem is the most urgent one in their eyes, it is also the only one which they have put directly to themselves. Now this method, according to Comte, is a bad one, and in following it they court certain failure. For a social problem is such that its solution cannot be obtained immediately; other problems, more theoretical in character, must be solved beforehand. It is therefore these which must first be dealt with, if we seek anything else than the lengthening of the history of political dreams and of social chimeras. "Institutions," Comte says, "depend on morals, and morals, in their turn, depend on beliefs." Every scheme of new institutions will therefore be useless so long as morals have not been "reorganised," and so long as, to reach this end, a general system of opinions has not been founded, which are accepted by all minds as true, as was, for instance, the system of Catholic dogma in Europe in the Middle Ages. Therefore, either the social problem admits of no solution--and Comte does not stop at this pessimistic hypothesis,--or the solution sought for supposes that a new philosophy shall have been previously established. This is why Comte wishes to be at first only a philosopher. In 1824 he writes "I regard all discussions upon institutions as pure nonsense, until the spiritual reorganisation of society has been brought about, or at least is very far advanced."

Before knowing Saint-Simon then--and his correspondence with Valat testifies to the fact--Comte already possessed a large portion of the materials for his future system. Up to this time his labours had borne upon two distinct orders of subjects. The one scientific proper the other more properly political .

In 1818 Comte meets Saint-Simon. He is attracted and surrenders himself almost unreservedly. For four years he works with Saint-Simon. He loves and venerates him as a master. He feeds upon his ideas, and collaborates in his labours and enterprises. He calls himself "pupil of M. Saint-Simon." However, from 1822 he detaches himself from this greatly-admired master, and in 1824 the rupture is complete and final. What can have happened?

The grievances brought forward by Comte are only of secondary importance. As a matter of fact master and pupil were bound to separate sooner or later. There was a radical incompatibility between those two minds. Saint-Simon, marvellously inventive and original, throws out a multitude of new ideas and views, of which many will be fruitful. But he quickly affirms, and proves little. He has not the patience to continue working long at the same subject, or to probe it to the bottom in an orderly way. Comte, on the contrary, thinks with Descartes, that method is essential to science, and that "logical coherence" is the surest sign of truth. He could not long remain satisfied with Saint-Simon's disconnected essays. He could even, without dishonesty, turn to account the brilliant but disorderly intuition in which his master abounds and believe that his own doctrine alone gave those disconnected essays scientific value, because his doctrine alone was in a position to systematise them and to connect them with their principles.

The unity of the doctrine has been disputed. Comte himself distinguished two successive "careers" in his life. In the first, he says, without affected modesty, he was Aristotle: in the second he will be St. Paul. The founder of the philosophy did but pave the way for the organiser of the religion. "I have systematically devoted my life to draw at last from real science the necessary basis of a sound philosophy, according to which I was afterwards to construct the true religion."

Many of Comte's disciples, even some of the more illustrious, and at first more fervent, such as Littr?, refused to follow him in his "second career." Their admiration for the philosopher could not persuade them to submit to the pontiff.

Comte answered these attacks, which were all the more painful to him because they came from those whom he had long regarded as his faithful disciples and his best friends. In the course of this work it will appear that those attacks were unfounded. Comte's two methods are not opposed to each other. They complete each other, as do also the two "careers" which they characterize.

It is true that during the last two years of his life an increasingly marked tinge of mysticism spread over his thought and his writings. His brief friendship with Mme. de Vaux, and the death of this "holy" friend had stirred very strong emotions within him, and these emotions with him were transformed into ideas which came to be incorporated into his system. At the same time he laboured to organise the Religion of Humanity. He claimed to secure for it an authority over souls at least equal to that which had been enjoyed by Catholicism at the period of its greatest power. The exaltation of his sentiments, the preoccupation of the new religion which was to be established, the ever-present consciousness of his sacerdotal mission, all this was necessarily bound to react upon the doctrine which he had founded in the preceding period.

In his correspondence with Stuart Mill which takes place between 1841 and 1846, that is to say which embraces the end of his first career and the beginning of the second, Comte has repeatedly explained how the two successive portions of his work are connected together, and in what they are distinct. It may not be useless to quote his own words. "The second half of my philosophical life," he says, "must differ notably from the first, especially in that feeling must take, if not an obvious, at least a real part in it, one as great as that of the intellect. The great work of systematization which has been reserved for our century, must indeed embrace equally, both feelings and ideas as a whole. Truly it was the ideas which had first to be systematized, under pain of failing to bring about a complete regeneration by falling into a more or less vague mysticism. That is why my fundamental work had to appeal almost exclusively to the intellect. It was to be a work of research, and accessorily of discussion, destined to discover and to constitute the true universal principles, in rising by hierarchical degrees from the simplest scientific questions to the highest social speculations." But this being done, Comte passed to the systematisation of the feelings, "a necessary sequel to that of the ideas, and an indispensable basis for that of the institutions."

The object of the present work is to study Comte's philosophy properly so called, leaving aside the transformation of this philosophy into religion. The choice which we thus make is not an arbitrary one, since, in order to justify it, we have the distinction formally established by Comte himself, when he admits that his philosophy and his religion might have been the work of two different persons.

But then, why only study the first of the two careers, why not respect the integrity of that whole which, according to us, Littr? ought not to have disregarded?--We do respect it, for we do not arbitrarily exclude from the doctrine any of the parts which Comte included in it. If we make the philosophy proper the sole object of this study, in it we shall ever have before our minds the idea of the greater whole in which Comte placed it. On this condition alone, our study will be accurate. But once this condition is fulfilled we do not consider that we exceed our right, in concentrating our effort upon the philosophy.

There are two different ways of conceiving the history of a doctrine. The historian may place himself exactly in the mental attitude of the philosopher whom he studies, and think again after him his leading ideas, as indeed he should do; but further, he can judge, just as the philosopher himself does, of the respective importance of problems, without allowing himself to distinguish what is secondary from what is essential. The historical work then assumes the shape of a "monography," or of an "intellectual biography;" or else, while endeavouring to penetrate to the heart of the system, in order to grasp it in its principles, the historian may nevertheless place himself outside it and above it, and try to "situate" it in the general evolution of philosophy. Then the system is better understood in its entirety, since we can see its relations with the preceding, contemporary and following doctrines. At the same time it becomes possible to separate what is of enduring philosophical interest, from what was merely of secondary or momentary importance, although the author may have judged otherwise. To borrow from Comte a distinction which he often uses, the former of these methods is better suited to erudition, the latter to history.

Renan spoke of Comte with extreme severity, and not without some disdain. He owned, however, that later on Comte's name would be one of the most representative ones of this century, and he had himself strongly felt his influence. We must certainly take into account all the other French and foreign sources from which this mind at once so supple and so large, drew inspiration. But is it not from Comte, as much as from Hegel, that he learnt to regard history as the "sacred science of humanity," to expect from it what before was demanded from theology, to transform the ancient dogmas of Providence and of optimism into the belief in the positive idea of progress, and finally to conceive that truth and goodness are not immutable and immoveable realities, but are realised by degrees through the effort of successive generations?

These two examples will suffice to show the point of extreme diffusion which has been reached by the positive spirit.

This spirit is so intimately mingled with the general thought of our time that we scarcely notice it, just as we do not pay attention to the air we breathe. History, romance, and, even poetry have reflected its influence and, being charged with it, have contributed to its diffusion. Contemporary Sociology is the creation of Comte; scientific Psychology, in a certain degree has also sprung from him. From all these signs, it is not rash to conclude that positive philosophy expresses some of the most characteristic tendencies of the age.

We are therefore conforming to historical reality when we attach ourselves, in Comte's work, to the philosophy which constitutes its most original, and up to the present time its most fruitful and living part. It matters little that he himself should only have considered it as a preliminary portion of his work. How often has the speculative effort made by a great thinker for the purpose of establishing practical conclusions proved to be of more enduring interest than those conclusions themselves!

FOOTNOTES:

Lettres ? Valat, p. 156-7 .

Lettres ? Valat, p. 99.

Lettres ? Valat, p. 128.

Revue Occidentale, 1881, I, p. 288.

Correspondence de J. S. Mill et de Comte, Lettre de Comte du 14 juillet 1845, p. 456-7.

Correspondance de Comte and de Stuart Mill, p. 456-7. Lettre de Comte du 14 juillet 1845.

BOOK I

THE PHILOSOPHICAL PROBLEM

According to Comte, philosophy is destined to serve as a basis for morality, for politics and for religion. It is not an end in itself but a means to reach an end not otherwise attainable. Had Comte thought it possible to reorganise society without first reorganising morals, and to reorganise morals without first reorganising beliefs, he would not perhaps have written the six volumes of the "Cours de Philosophie positive" which occupied him from 1830 to 1842. He would have gone straight to what was of supreme interest.

The number of men with sufficient leisure and enough culture to examine these conclusions and to go into their proofs will always be small. The attitude of the others must be one of submission and respect. But, differing on this point from the religious dogmas which humanity has known until now; the new faith will be "demonstrated." It will contain nothing which has not been established and controlled by scientific methods, nothing which goes beyond the domain of the relative, nothing which at any moment cannot be proved to a mind capable of following the demonstration.

Comte thus takes for granted: 1st, that the "opinions," the "beliefs" and the "conceptions" relating to these matters, are to-day "anarchical": 2nd, that their natural and normal condition is to be "organised."

There is no need to prove the first part; a glance at contemporary society is enough. The confused disturbing movements which fill it with trouble and agitation, and which, unless rational harmony be at last established, threaten its destruction are not due merely to political causes. They proceed from moral disorder. And this in turn proceeds from intellectual disorder, that is to say from a lack of principles common to all minds, and from the absence of universally admitted conceptions and beliefs. For in order that a human society may subsist, a certain harmony of sentiment or even common interests among its members will not suffice. Above all things, intellectual concord which finds expression in a body of common beliefs is necessary.

But, we may say, does not this state represent the ordinary condition of human societies? Perhaps the "organic" state only appears occasionally and as an exception? Such a supposition is groundless. For, if such were the case societies could not subsist, and above all could not develop. We must admit, on the contrary, that periods of intellectual anarchy form the exception, and that in a normal state of society men are united by their unanimous submission to a sufficiently large body of principles and beliefs. History confirms this view. The immobility of civilisation in the Far-East is especially due to the intellectual stability which distinguishes it from our own condition. The societies of Antiquity , rested upon a conception of man, of citizenship and of the world, which, as a matter of fact, scarcely varied during the whole period of their existence. Lastly, in the Middle-ages, Christianity had constituted an admirable spiritual authority. The organisation of Catholicism, "a masterpiece of political sagacity," had established a body of beliefs which all minds accepted with complacent docility. It is the decomposition of this great system which has produced the majority of the evils with which we are now struggling. Mental anarchy is therefore truly an abnormal state, a pathological fact, what Comte will call later on the "western disease," a mortal disease if it is to be prolonged. Either modern society must perish, or minds must regain their stable equilibrium by submission to common principles.

As Descartes, in order to test all his knowledge, had only to examine the sources from which it originated, so Comte, in order to verify the logical compatibility of his opinions, will content himself with the consideration of the methods which have furnished him with them. If he discovers methods which mutually tend to exclude each other, he will have found the cause of the mental disorder which gives birth to all the evils we see troubling modern society. At the same time he will have discovered the remedy which will bring about the disappearance of those contradictions. The human mind is so constituted, that the first thing it requires is unity. Understanding is spontaneously systematic. Opinions merely in juxtaposition in the mind but logically irreconcilable cannot satisfy it. As a matter of fact, the contradiction, even when it is ignored, nevertheless impresses itself. Whether we know it or not, each of our opinions implies a complexus of connected opinions all arrived at by the same method as the one in question; and this complexus is itself part of the more considerable whole which finally completes itself in a comprehensive conception of the world given in experience.

But, as soon as the question is one of facts which originate in the human conscience, or which are connected with social life and with history, an opposite tendency becomes predominant. Instead of solely seeking for the laws of phenomena, our mind desires to explain them. It wants to find the essence and the cause. It speculates upon the human soul, upon the relation of that soul to the other realities of the universe, upon the end which society should have in view, upon the best possible government, upon the social contract, etc. All these questions arise from the "metaphysical" mode of thought, and this mode is formally incompatible with the preceding one. Yet we see both of them subsisting in our minds to-day.

Social dynamics will show how this condition must have been produced. But whatever the historical reasons may be, the reality is only too evident. The human mind to-day can neither adhere entirely to nor give up entirely one or the other of these two modes of thought. Undoubtedly it feels that the conquests of positive science are "irrevocable." For example, how could it return to a metaphysical or theological explanation of astronomical or physical phenomena? But, on the other hand, metaphysical and theological conceptions seem to it no less indispensable. It does not believe it could do without them. And this is natural. For, to satisfy the desire for unity, which is its supreme requirement, the human mind demands a conception of the whole which embraces all the orders of phenomena, what Kant called a totalizing of experience, in a word a "philosophy."

Now, up to the present time, the positive mode of thought has not shown itself in a position to respond to this demand. It has only produced individual sciences. Positive Science has been "special" and fragmentary, always attached to the investigation of a more or less restricted group of phenomena. With a laudable prudence, which has made her strength, she has applied herself solely to works of analysis and partial synthesis. She has never ventured upon a synthesis of the whole of the real within our reach. Until now theologies and metaphysics alone have made the effort, and this office is, still to-day, the chief reason of their existence, this office must be fulfilled. The human mind is carried, by a spontaneous and necessary movement, towards the point of view of the universal. Sooner than leave the philosophical problems without an answer, it would remain attached indefinitely to the solutions, chimerical as they are, which the theologies and metaphysics offer him. In short, in the present state of things, the positive mind is "real" but "special." The theologico-metaphysical mind is "universal" but "fictitious." We can neither sacrifice the "reality" of science, nor the "universality" of philosophy. Which is the way out of this difficulty?

Three solutions alone are conceivable:

The first solution at first sight appears to be the most acceptable. Why should not the positive investigation of the divers orders of natural phenomena be reconciled with a theological or metaphysical conception of the universe? Nothing prevents one from conceiving the phenomena as governed by invariable laws, and from seeking at the same time, by another method, for the reason which renders nature in general intelligible. Positive science liberated at last from theology and metaphysics, would assure them of the independence which she claims for herself. Thus, with growing precision would be fixed the boundaries on the one hand of the domain proper of positive science, and on the other that of the speculation which goes beyond experience.

This reconciliation, says Comte, has for a long time been considered legitimate, because for a long time it was indispensable. Up to the present time Theology and Metaphysics have been the only comprehensive conceptions of the world which the human mind has formed. They have fulfilled a necessary function. Moreover, without them positive science could neither have originated nor have been developed. But, as she is their heiress, she is also their antagonist. Her progress necessarily involves their downfall. The parallel history of religions and metaphysical dogmas on the one hand and of positive knowledge on the other shows that the conciliation between them has never been a lasting one.

This solution fulfils ideally the conditions of the problem, but, as a matter of fact, the solution is impracticable. The tide of history cannot flow back. In order to bring men's minds once again under the sway of that spiritual power which they freely accepted in the Middle-ages, we should also have to reconstitute the totality of the conditions in which they lived at that time. How can we wipe from the pages of history the discovery of America, the invention of printing, and so many other great social facts? How can we pretend that Copernicus, Kepler, Galileo, Descartes, Newton, and all the heralds of positive Science never existed? And if, presuming what is impossible, we should succeed in restoring the mental and moral unity of Christian society in the Middle-ages, how could we prevent the natural laws which have once brought about its decomposition, from producing again the same result?

FOOTNOTES:

cf. infra. book iii. ch. v. p.

THE LAW OF THE THREE STATES

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