REPUBLIC OF THE WEST. OKDER AND PEOGRESS. THE CATECHISM OF POSITIVISM; Summarg iEi}3O0ftf0n THE TJI^IA^EKS^3L KELIQION. IN THIRTEEN SYSTEMATIC CONVERSATIONS BETWEEN A WOMAN AND A PRIEST OP HUMANITY. By AUGUSTE COMTE, AUTHOR OF "the SYSTEM OF POSITIVE PHILOSOPHT," iND OF "the SYSTEM OF POSITIVE POLITICS." Love as oiu- principle, Order as our basis, Progi'ess as our eud. THE CATECHISM POSITIVE RELIGION, TRANSLATED FROM THE FRENCH OF AUGUSTE COMTE, RICHARD CONGREVE. LONDON: J H X C H A P M A N, KING WILLIAM STREET, STRAND. M L'CCC LVIII. LOIfDOIf: SAVILL AND EDWAEDS, PBIliTBRP, CHANDOS STKEET. SRtf URL 5137553 ADVERTISEMENT. The alterations in the arrangement of the Catechism have, in every case, the sanction of Auguste Comte. See Politique Positive, vol. iv. The Tables at the end of the volume are given from the latest edition of the Author. I have felt warranted by an extract from one of his letters in inserting the name of Shelley in the Calendar. lu the Preface, p. 4, the formula alluded to is : Faire de Vordre avec du desordre. Your materials are disorder, with them you 7nust organize order. In the Positivist Library, Old Mortality should be substituted for Woodstock. CONTENTS. PAGE Advertisement vii Preface 1 Positivist Librarv- 39 INTRODUCTION. GENERAL THEORY OF RELIGION. Conversation 1 45 II 68 FIRST PART. EXPLANATION OF THE WORSHIP. Conversation III. The Worship as a whole .... 82 IV. Private Worship 118 V. Public Worship 139 SECOND PART. EXPLANATION OF THE DOCTRINE. Conversation VI. The Doctrine as a whole . . . .160 VII. The order of the External World — Inorganic Matter, Life . . .201 „ Vin. Man — first, as a Social, secondly, as a Moral Being 228 VI CONTENTS. THIED PART. EXPLANATION OF THE REGIME, OR MODE OF LIFE. PAGE Conversation IX. The Rer/ime as a whole .... 270 X. Private Life 306 XL Public Life ........ 331 CONCLUSION. GENERAL HISTORY OF RELIGION. Conversation XII. Fetichism. Conservative Poly- theism, or Theocracy .... 368 ,, XIII. Intellectual and Social Polytheism, Monotheism 389 Tables A. System of Sociolatry or Social Worship . 429 ,, B. Hierarchy of the Positive Sciences . . . 432 ,, C. Positive Classification of the internal Func- tions of the Bi-ain 430 D. Positivist Calendar 433 PREFACE. " In the name of the Past and of the Future, the servants of Humanity — both its philosophical and practical servants — come forward to claim as their due the general direction of this world. Their object is, to constitute at length a real Providence, in all departments — moral, intellectual, and material. Consequently they exclude, once for all, from poli- tical supremacy, all the different servants of God — Catholic, Protestant, or Deist — as being at once behindhand and a cause of disturbance." With t^ this uncompromising announcement, on Sunday, October 19th, 1851, in the Palais Cardinal, after a summary of five hours, I ended my third course of Philosophical Lectures on the General History of Humanity. Since that memorable conclusion, the second volume of my System of Positive Politics has lately given a direct proof how entirely a social destination, such as that above indicated, is the appropriate destination of Positive Philosophy; for it has shown itself able to suggest the most syste- matic theory of moral and social order. We come forward then, avowedly, to deliver the Western world from an anarchical democracy, and B 2 PREFACE. from a retrograde aristocracy. We come forward to constitute, as far as practicable, a real sociocracy ; one which shall be able to combine wisely, in fur- therance of the common regeneration, all the powers of man, each of course brought to bear according to its own nature. In fact we, Sociocrats, are as little democratical as we are aristocratical. In our eyes, these two opposite parties — the respectable portion of tliem, that is — represent, though on no theory, on the one hand, Solidarity, on the other. Continuity. These two ideas have hitherto been unfortunately antagonistic. Positivism removes this antagonism, and replaces it by a subordination of the one to the other, by showing Solidarity to be subordinate to Continuity. So we adopt both of these tendencies, in themselves, singly, incomplete and incoherent ; and we rise above them both equally. Yet at the present time, we by no means condemn equally the two parties which represent them. During the whole of my philosophical and social career, a jDeriod of thirty years, I have ever felt a profound contempt for that which, under our different governments, bore the name of the Opiwsition ; I have felt a secret affinity for all constructive statesmen, of whatever order. Even those who would build with materials evidently worn-out — even them I never hesitated to prefer to the pure destructives, in a century in which a o-eneral reconstruction is everywhere the chief want. Our official conservatives are behindhand, it is true. And yet, the mere revolutionist seems to me still more alien to the true spirit of the time ; for he PREFACE. 6 continues blindly, in the middle of the nineteenth century, the negative line of action which could only suit the eighteenth. And he does not redeem the stagnation caused hj his error by the generous aspirations after a universal renovation, which were the characteristic of his predecessoiis. Hence it is that, although the popular sympathy is instinctively with the revolutionary party, poli- tical power constantly passes into the hands of its opponents. For they, at least, recognise the fact, that the metaphysical doctrines are powerless to organize ; and recognising this, they seek elsewhere for principles of reconstruction. With the majority of them, their retrograde attitude is, at bottom, only provisionally adopted as the least of two evils. They adopt it to meet the anarchy which threatens them, not because they have really any theological convictions. All our statesmen seem for the moment to belong to this school. Yet we may be confident that all they derive from it is, the formulas which they find indispensable foj the co-ordination of their empirical views. They wait for the more real and more stable connexion to spring from a new doc- trine of universal applicability. This may certainly be said with justice of the only temporal governor of real eminence of whom, up to the present time, our century can boast — I mean the noble Czar, who, whilst he gives the immense empire of Russia all the progress compatible with its actual condition, preserves it by his energy and prudence from useless ferment. His sagacity, b2 4 PEEFACE. however empirical, leads him to see that the West alone is charged with the glorious and difficult mission of laying the foundations of the regeneration of society. The East must wait, and without dis- turbance make the result its own, as each successive step shall be gained. I am even inclined to think that the Emperor Nicholas feels that this immense elaboration is reserved in especial for the gi'eat central nation of the Western world. Its spon- taneous action cannot but be attended with disorders ; but it is the only one which must never be inter- fered with, for its action is absolutely indispensable to the attainment of a solution applicable to all. The agitation that habitually prevails in all the rest of the West, though more difficult to restrain than that of the East, exercises in reality an almost equally injurious influence on the natural course of the final regeneration. It has a tendency, which can lead to no useful result, to put forward some other country as its principal seat, whereas the whole of past history points to France. Our situation in the West is so wholly adverse to the simply revolutionary point of view, that we find the conservative party able to produce the maxims of most real value. I do not forget the memorable practical formula, the author of which, M. Caussidiere, was a democrat fortunately without the ordinary literary training. Still it is among pure conservatives that the most j^rofound political sentence of the nineteenth century had its birth — To destroy, you must replace. The author of this PREFACE. O admirable sentence, equally excellent in tlioiiglit and expression, presents nothing remarkable in point of intellect. Louis Napoleon's claim to notice is entirely dependent on a rare combination of the three practical qualities — energy, prudence, and perseverance. But the constructive point of view has, at the present time, so direct a tendency to enlarge our conceptions, that, given a favourable situation, it is capable of suggesting to an intellect of small depth a really profound principle. This principle is adopted and systematically developed by Positivism. Be this as it may, the retrograde nature of the worn-out ideas which our conservatives provisionally employ, disqualifies them absolutely for directing political action in the midst of the present anarchy. For that anarchy has its origin in the irremediable weakness of the old beliefs. Western Europe no longer submits its reason to the guidance of opinions which evidently admit of no demonstra- tions ; nay, which are radically illusory. For such is the character of all opinions of theological origin, whatever the theology be, be it even the purest Deism. All now recognise the fact, that the prac- tical activity of man must no longer waste itself on mutual hostilities, but must set itself peaceably to carry forward, in common, the work of developing the resources of the earth — man's residence. Still less can we persist in the state of intellectual and moral childhood in which, for the conduct of our life, we look to motives which are absurd and degrading. The nineteenth century must never 6 PREFACE. repeat the eighteenth, but it must never break off from it. It must continue the work of the eighteenth, and realize at length the noble object of its wishes, a religion resting on demonstration, and directing the pacific activity of man. Every tendency that is simply negative has, for some time, been set aside by the mere force of circum- stances. Of the philosophical schools, then, of the last century, the only ones which are really discre- dited are the illogical, inconsequent sects, whose predominance was necessarily very short. Those who with Voltaire and Rousseau aim at an incom- plete destruction of the older order — who think that they can destroy the altar and preserve the throne, or vice versd — are fallen without possibility of rising. They ruled, such was the destiny allotted them, the two generations which prepared and carried out the revolutionary explosion. But ever since reconstruction has been the order of the day, the attention of men has been more and more directed to the great and immortal school of Diderot and Hume. This is the school which will really give its stamp to the eighteenth century, connecting it with the seventeenth in the i:)erson of Fontenelle ; Avith the nineteenth, in that of Condorcet. Equally emancipated, both in religion and in politics, those powerful thinkers necessarily tended towards a total and direct re-organization of society. It matters little that their idea of such re-organization was con- fused. All of them would now rally in support of the only doctrine which bases the future on the PREFACE. Y past, and so lays a perfectly firm foundation for the regeneration of the "West. This is the school from which I shall always consider it an honour to be immediately descended in a direct line through him who was indispensable as my precursor, the eminent Condorcet. On the other hand, I never expected anything but hindrances, intentional or not, from the broken remains of the superficial and immoral sects who trace theii' origin to Voltaire and Housseau. Sprung from this great stock historically, 1 have never scrupled to connect with it whatever of real eminence our latest adversaries have produced, whether of the theological or metaphysical school. Hume is my principal precursor in philosophy, but Avith Hume I connect Kant as an accessory. Kant's fundamental conception was never really systema- tized and developed but by Positivism. So, in political science, De Maistre was, in my judgment, the necessary complement of Condorcet. At the very commencement of my career, I appropriated all the essential principles of De Maistre, which now find no adequate appreciation except in the Posi- tive school. These, with Bichat and Gall, as my precursors in science, are the six immediate prede- cessors who will ever form the connecting links between me and the three fathers of the system of modern philosophy — Bacon, Descartes, and Leibnitz. Carrying on this noble genealogy, the Middle Ages, through tlieir intellectual exponents, St. Thomas Aquinas, Poger Bacon, and Dante, place me in 8 PREFACE. direct subordination to the incomparable Aristotle, the eternal prince of true thinkers. On our progress upwards towards this regular fountain-head, we become deeply convinced that, since the adequate extension of Rome's dominion, the more advanced populations are vainly seeking for an universal religion. The experience gained in this search has made it quite clear that no super- natural belief can satisfy this, the ultimate long- ing of humanity. Two incompatible Monotheisms equally aimed at this necessary characteristic of Universality, wdthout which the human race could never follow out its natural destiny ; but the efforts of the two in opposite directions resulted only in neutraliziug each other, so that the attribute they claimed remained as the heritage of doctrines sus- ceptible of demonstration and admitting discussion. Five centuries have passed since Islamism renounced the conquest of the West, and Catholicism abandoned to its eternal rival even the tomb of its pretended founder. In vain did the two religions aspire to spread themselves over the whole territory com- prised within the dominion of the Roman empire. That territory is divided with an almost equal divi- sion between the two irreconcilable Monotheisms. The East and the West, then, must put aside all theology and all metaphysics, and look elsewhere for a systematic basis on which to rest their intel- lectual and moral communion. This long-desired fusion of the two must afterwards gradually embrace the whole of our species j but it can come from no PREFACE. 9 other quarter but Positivism, It must, that is, have its origin in a doctrine whose characteristic is the constant combination of the real with the useful. Long limited to the simplest phenomena, the theories of Positivism have, within the sphere of such phe- nomena, produced the only convictions which, at the present moment, can claim to be universal. But this, the natm^al privilege of the methods adopted and the doctrines taught by Positivism, cannot be for ever confined to the domain of mathe- matics and physics. It found its first development in the sphere of material order ; it passed naturally thence to that of life ; from this it has lately ex- tended over that of man, whether viewed in society or as an individual. Now that Positivism has attained this absolute fulness of development, there is no longer any pretext for preserving, by artificial means, the theological spirit. This spirit is now, in modem Europe, as much a source of disturbance as metaphysics were, of which it is the parent, both historically and dogmatically. Besides, the moral and political degradation of its priesthood has long forbidden any hope of restraining, as was the case in the JMiddle Ages, the vices of the doctrine by the instinctive sagacity of its best interpreters. From henceforth the belief in Monotheism, whether Christian or Mussulman, is left to its natural course of inherent decay. In this late stage of its existence, it deserves more and more the unfavourable judgment which, during the three centuries of its rise to power, it elicited from the 10 PREFACE. noblest philosophers and statesmen of the Roman world. They could at that time only judge the system by the doctrine ; and they felt no hesitation in rejecting, as the enemy of the human race, a pro- visional religion which considered perfection as con- sisting in an entire concentration upon heavenly objects. Our modern instinct condemns still more strongly a morality which proclaims that the bene- volent sentiments are foreign to our nature ; which so little understands the dignity of labour as to refer its origin to a Divine curse ; and which puts forward woman as the source of all evil. Tacitus and Trajan could not foresee that, during some centuries, the wisdom of the Christian priesthood, aided by a favourable situation, would be able so far to check the natural evils of such doctrines as to draw from them, provisionally, admirable results for society. But now that the priesthood of the Western world has become hopelessly retrograde, the belief which it preaches, left to itself without check, has a ten- dency to give free scope to the immoral character which its anti-social nature inherently involves. It deserved respectful treatment on the part of prudent conservatives, only so far as it was impossible to find a substitute for it in a better conception of the world and of man. Such a conception could not be formed without Positivism, and the rise of Positivism was necessarily slow. But this laborious initiation is now completed, and Positivism proceeds finally to eliminate Catholicism, as well as every other form of theology. It does so by virtue of the admirable PREFACE. 1 1 social maxim above quoted — it destroys them by- replacing them. Positive religion, then, gives full satisfaction to the intelligence of man, and to his activity. Im- pelled onwards by the character of reality which distinguishes it, it has embraced the region of sen- timent. This for the future forms its principal domain, and becomes the basis of its unity. 'We see no reason to fear, then, that any thinkers Vy^orthy of the name, whether theoretical or practical, can commit the mistake committed at the early period of Catholicism, and fail to see the superiority of a faith which is real and complete j which is social not by any accident, but by its own inherent nature. For the rest, it is for the nascent priesthood of Positivism, and for all its true disciples, by their conduct as men and as citizens, to secure a due ap- preciation of its excellence. Even those who can- not be expected to form a judgment on its principles, may be led by experience to a favourable conclusion. A doctrine which shall be seen to develope all human virtue — personal, domestic, and civil — will soon gain the respect of all honest opponents, how- ever strong may be their preference for an absolute and egoistic, as opposed to a relative and altruistic, synthesis. On such a competition must depend the issue of the struggle between Christianity and Positivism ; but such a competition is impossible till Positivism has been put into a shape which, by its condensa- tion, can enable it to become really popular. This 12 PREFACE. is the particular object of this small work, which stands apart from the general series of my works. For it, I interrupt for some weeks my great religious construction, the first half only of which is as yet actually accomplished. I had thought that this valuable episode in my labours should be postponed till the entire completion of that immense work; but in January, 1851, I had written the Positive theory of human unity, and I felt sufficiently forward wdth my work to allow myself an interlude. As such, this present volume might follow the one in which the theory above mentioned forms the first and most important chapter. This hope grew on me as, step by step, I worked out that volume — the turning-point of the whole system. It became complete when I wrote the final preface of that volume. I realize the hope to-day, before I begin the construction of Dynami- cal Sociology, or in other words, of the Philosophy of History — the special subject of the third volume of my System of Positive Politics, to be published next year. ]My resolution to publish this Catechism was due to my finding my principal conceptions more ripe than I had expected. It was greatly strengthened by the fortunate crisis which has lately set aside the Parlia- mentary regime and instituted a dictatorial republic. Thesetwosteps are necessary as the previous conditions of any true regeneration. It is quite true that the dic- tatorship established by no means wears the character which is necessary to its full utility, as explained PREFACE. 1 3 in my course of Positive Lectiu^es, delivered in 1847. The most prominent defect is, that it cannot permit the co-existence with itself of free and full exposi- tion, or even of discussion. And yet such liberty is absolutely indispensable to any re- organization of the spiritual power j not to say, that it is the only security which we can have against every form of retrograde tyranny. But under one form or another, before long, this necessary complement of the new order will be attained. Unfortunately its attain- ment seems to involve, as the preceding phases of our revolution have involved^ one last violent crisis. Once attained, once established as a mere political experiment, it must lead us further. Its proximate consequence will be the peaceful creation of the systematic triumvirate which is to give its form and expression to the temporal dictatorship, that dicta- torship which, in the course of lectures above alluded to, I set forth as the proper mode of government for the organic period of transition. We may have to wait for these two phases of our revolutionary experiment ; but in the mean time, the actual form of dictatorial power already permits the direct pro- pagation of all thought that has a tendency to re- construction. For it has, at last, broken the power — a power which could lead to no good — of mere talkers. By so doing, as a natural consequence, it secures those who would really construct something the liberty of expounding their plans. The enjoy- ment of this liberty was naturally a strong induce- ment to me to direct the thousjhts of women and 14 PREFACE. working men to the question of a thorongh renova- tion of the social order. My present work, then, is an episode. It claims to be competent to furnish a systematic basis for the active propagation of Positivism. By so doing it necessarily forwards my principal construction, for it brings the new religion to bear on the classes which constitute its true social audience. The intel- lectual discipline instituted by Positive Philosophy rests on logical and scientific foundations of the utmost solidity ; but no solidity can secure its pre- valence, so antipathetic is its severe regime to minds trained as at present, unless it can gain the support of women and the proletary class. That support would lend it irresistible strength. The urgent need of it can only be soundly appreciated by these two great classes of society. Alien to all pretension to teaching, they alone can enforce on their systema- tic chiefs the fulfilment of the encyclopedic con- ditions demanded by their social office. Therefore I was bound not to shrink from introducing into the popular language philosophical terms which are absolutely indispensable ; terms not created by Positivism, but which it has systematized in point of meaning, and the use of which it has developed. I mean, in particular, two paii's of essential value in expressing the distinctions of Positivism : — first, Static and Dynamic ; then. Objective and Subjective. Without these I could not sufficiently explain my views. Once properly define these terms, and secure their uniform use accordinsc to their defiui- PKEFACE. 15 tioiij then philosophical explanations become much easier by their j udicious employment. Otherwise they are but a source of obscurity. I do not scruple, in this work, to consecrate these expressions to the use of Positive religion. They must pass by its agency into universal circulation, considering the high im- portance of their use from the intellectual and even the moral point of view. Thus was I led to compose what is, in the strictest sense, the Catechism of the Religion of Humanity ; and the first point was to examine, on rational prin- ciples, the form always adopted for such exposi- tions, the dialogue. I soon found in it a fresh in- stance of the happy instinct by which the practical sagacity of man often anticipates the conclusions of sound theory. Fresh from the work of constructing the Positive theory of human language, I felt at once that since expression must ever have the com- munication of thought, as its object, its natural form is the dialogue. Further, as combinations are in every case, phv- sical and still more logical, binary, the conversation of the dialogue admits of only two persons, under penalty of confusion if this rule is violated. The monologue is in reality only adequate for concep- tion. It limits itself to the giving expression to conceptions as they arise. It is as if one were thinking aloud, without reference to any hearer. Whereas, when language is used not merely to assist the investigations of the reason, but to communi- cate the results, then it requires a new process. It 1 6 PEEFACE. must be worked into a fresh shape, specially adapted to the transfer of ideas from one person to another. Then, we must take into account the peculiar state of our listener, and foresee the modifications which the natural course of such a mode of exposition will demand. In a word, the simple statement must become a real conversation. Nor can its essen- tial conditions be met, unless you assume that the second person in the dialogue is throughout the same, and unless also it is clear who he is. But if you choose the person successfully, he may stand as a type, capable, in the ordinary use of the dialogue, of adequately representing every reader. This is necessary, as it is impossible to vary the mode of exposition to meet the exigencies of each individual, as may be done in actual conversation. It would follow from this that there must be an essential difference between the exposition which aims at being in the fullest sense didactic, and one which is simply logical. In the latter, the thinker follows the course of his own thought freely, paying no attention to the natural conditions of communi- cation ; and, with a view to avoid the great labour of recasting one's thoughts, in general we limit our- selves to laying them before others just as we originally thought them. This rough method of exposition contributes largely to the scanty efficiency of most of our reading. The form of the dialogue, the proper form for all real communication, is re- served for the setting forth of such conceptions as are important and ripe enough to justify it. This PREFACE. 17 is why, ill all times, religious instruction is given in the form of conversation, and not of mei-e state- ment. This form is by no means a symptom of negligence, excusable in cases of secondary impor- tance. Quite the contrary. When the dialogue is rightly conducted, it is the only mode of exposition which is really adapted for teaching. It meets the wants of all orders of intelligence. But the new elaboration of our thought is necessarily a difficult process, and hence, for ordinary commu- nications, we are justified in not adopting it. It would be childish to aim at such perfection when the instruction to be conveyed was not of funda- mental importance. On the other hand, this throw- ing our thoughts into a fresh shape for the purposes of teaching is only practicable where doctrines are so thoroughly worked out that we can distinctly compare the different modes of expounding them as a whole, and easily foresee the objections to which they will naturally give rise. AYere I bound in this place to point out all the general principles applicable to the art of commu- nication, I would dwell on the imj)roA^emeut it admits in regard to style. The great object of poets is to express feelings. They have always felt the superiority of verse over prose, from the power which vei-se has to make the artificial language of man more beautiful by bringing it nearer to his natural language. Now the same reasons would equally apply to the communication of thoughts, if we had to attach as much importance to such com- c 18 PREFACE. munication. Compression of language, and the aid of imagery, the essential characteristics of all real versification, would be as appropriate for perfecting the exposition of thought^ as the exposition of feel- ing. This second improvement, however, for the purposes of teaching, must be still more of an ex- ception than the first, on the ground of the addi- tional labour it requires. It presupposes even a greater maturity in regard to the conceptions to be expressed, not only in him who is to interpret them, but also in the audience. For the audience must also exert itself, and at once fill up the gaps left by the conciseness of the poet. This is why several admirable poems are still only in prose. The imperfection of the form was at the time ex- cusable, as the range of ideas expressed was not one generally familiar. An analogous motive deterred men from putting into verse any religious catechism. But the Positive faith is distinguished from others by its being real and spontaneous. These two cha- racteristics will enable it ultimately to attain this last perfection of style in its popular exposition. This will be, when it shall begin to be sufficiently spread to admit of gTeat conciseness and the free use of imagery. Only provisionally then need we feel limited to the substitution of the dialogue for the monologue. In accordance with this theory as to the peculiar didactic form to be adopted, I was led not only to justify the custom which had hitherto prevailed, but even to improve upon it, so far as the second PREFACE. 19 pei'son in the dialogue is concerned. By leaving the hearer absolutely vague, the dialogue, or con- versational method, also became necessarily vague, not to say illusory. Experience led to the use of the dialogue. After explaining the rational grounds on which its use rests, I soon felt that it would remain incomplete, and if incomplete, inadequate, so long as it was not clear who the second person was, at least to the author's mind. You must abso- lutely suppose yourself really in communication with some one, although that some one may be an ideal personage, or you will fail in deriving the full advantages of the form you adopt. So only can you institute a true conversation, and not a state- ment thrown into dialogue. As soon as I came to apply this clear jorinciple, my instinct would naturally lead me to choose Madame Clotilde de Vaux. Whilst she lived, I had felt her angelic influence for one year only. She has now for more than six years, since her death, been associated with all my thoughts, and with all my feelings. Through her I have at leng-th become for Humanity, in the strictest sense, a twofold organ, as may any one who has reaped the full advantages of woman's influence. My career had been that of Aristotle — I should have wanted energy for that of St. Paul, but for her. I had extracted sound philosophy from real science j I was enabled by her to found on the basis of that philosophy the iTui- versal religion. The perfect purity of our con- nexion, which circumstances made exceptional, and c2 20 PREFACE. even the admirable superiority of the angel who never received her due recognition — on these I need not dwell — they are already fully appreciated by the nobler order of minds. Four years ago I re- vealed the source of my inspiration, one beyond all compare, by the publication of my Discourse on the System of Positivism. At that time Madame de Yaux could only be judged by the intellectual and moral results of her inspiration, which that work brought home to all sympathetic hearts as to all synthetic minds. But last year, the three intro- ductory pieces, which will ever be the distinctive mark of the first volume of my System of Positive Politics, allowed every one to form a dii^ect appre- ciation of her eminent natural superiority. Hence, when recently I published the second volume of the same treatise, I was already able openly to congTa- tulato myself on the touching unanimity of feeling v>rhich undoubtedly animates both sexes towards the new Beatrice. These three antecedent publica- tions dispel at once all doubt as to my sainted hearer. Where there is the due preparation, the rea^der is sufficiently acquainted with her for our conversations to possess an interest of their own, one directly connected with the persons of the dialogue. Such a catechumen meets perfectly all the condi- tions of the dialogue. Superior as she was, Madame Clotilde de Vaux was yet so early taken from me as to render it impossible sufficiently to initiate her in Positivism, naturally the object of all her wishes and efforts. Even before death broke off finally PREFACE. 21 the work of affectionate instruction, pain and grief had been very serious impediments. I was hardly able to sketch out to her whilst alive the systematic preparation which I now accomplish with her when dead. jMy angelic disciple, then, brings with her nothing beyond the dispositions essential to a dis- ciple, dispositions to be found in most women, and even in many proletaries. Positivism has not yet reached them, but all I presuppose in them, as in her, who is my eternal companion, is a profound desire to know the religion which can overcome the modern anarchy, and a sincere veneration for the priest of that religion. I should even prefer for my readers those who instinctively fulfilled these two previous conditions, unchecked by any scholastic training. I have already explained in my Positive Politics the general idea of the institntion of real guardian angels. Those who are familiar with that explana- tion are aware that the principal type amongst women becomes habitually inseparable from the two others. This sweet connexion holds good even in our exceptional case. For my pure and immortal companion unites in her own person the subjective mother my second life presupposes, and the objective daughter who was destined for a time to add her grace to my existence. Her invariable reserve after some time purified my affection and raised it to the level of her own. From that time all I aspired to was an union which should need no concealment, that of a legal adoption, the natural one, consider- 22 PREFACE. ing our disparity in age. When I publisli our noble correspondence, my last letter will give a clear proof of tlie lioly project, the ouly one which, under our respective destinies, was compatible with repose and happiness. It is thus perfectly natural for me to use in this catechism the terms of father and daughter, the habitual language of religious instruction. More even than the priesthood of Catholicism, or of any other form of theology, the priesthood of Positivism requires in its priests complete maturity, if for no other reason, yet by virtue of the immense encyclo- pedic preparation which it prescribes. This was my reason for fixing on forty- two as the age at which the priests of Humanity should be consecrated. At that age the development of the body and the brain is complete, as is also the first social life. These names then, father and daughter, become peculiarly appropriate to the teacher and catechumen, and they are in conformity with the old etymology of the term priest. By using them, I place myself naturally in the relation in which I should have stood to Madame de Yaux had it not been for our fatal catastrophe. Whilst however this concentration is necessary, and it is only the presiding angel that takes part directly in the holy conversation, it ought not to escape either the reader or myself that my two other patronesses take an appropriate though silent part in it. Elsewhere I have spoken of the subjective PREFACE. 23 influence of my venerable mother, of the objective action of my noble adopted daughter. In the present work they will always be present to my heart, when my intellect shall be duly feeling the impulse of the principal angel. These three angels are for the future inseparable, and inseparably con- nected with me ; so much so, that their constant co- operation has lately suggested to the eminent artist whom Positivism now claims, an idea of admirable beauty, by which a mere portrait becomes a picture of profound meaning. A didactic conversation on this plan renders my own labour easier as well as that of the reader. For in many points such an exposition, meant for the public, does not widely differ from the explana- tions which I should have given in private to my sainted companion in answer to her questions, had our objective union lasted longer. This is clearly seen from my philosophical letter on Marriage. The very period of the year in which I am writing this, to me, pleasant work of elaboration, recalls with peculiar force the wishes she herself expressed, during that incomparable year, for a methodical initiation. All I have to do, then, is to carry myself back seven years. I can then conceive as actually spoken to a living object that which I must now develope subjectively, by placing myself in 1852 in the situation of 1845. To carry myself back in this way requires an effort ; but the effort is com- pensated by the great advantage of being able to 24 PREFACE. give a better idea of her angelic ascendancy over me. I know not how to convey a right im- pression of its character, except by combining two admirable verses, respectively meant for Beatrice and Laura — Quella che imparadisa la mia mente Ogni basso pensier dal cor m'avulse. I am late in bringing to its completion the initia- tion which my affection had led me to begin. But, on the other hand, I bring it more easily into con- formity with the sentiments which finally prevailed towards her who will always be associated with me as at once my disciple and colleague. Her age has become fixed, by the general law of our subjective existence. My own, relatively to hers, increases daily, so as to sanction no other images but those drawn from the filial relation. The existence of both of us is thus brought into a more perfect continuity, and the harmony of my whole nature is also carried to a higher perfection. At the same time then that I thus explain the unity of man as constituted by Positivism, I am developing and consolidating the fundamental connexion between my private and my public life. The philosophical influence of the angel who inspires me, becomes from this point of view as complete and as direct as it ever can be ; consequently none any longer contest it. I ven- ture then to hope, that to enable me to testify my just gratitude, all nobler minds will lend me due aid in supplying the deficiency of which I am pro- PREFACE. 25 foundly conscious, in the midst of my best daily prayers — a consciousness such as that expressed by Dante towards his sweet patroness — Non h I'affezion mia tanto profonda Che basti a render voi grazia per grazia. This exj)ression of grateful feeling by the public must, as well as my own, embrace the two other guardian angels who form the complement of the presiding one. All three contribute to the influence of woman upon me. Far distant, alas ! is now the imposing memory of the perfect Catholicism whose sway my noble and tender mother obeyed. But distant though it be, it shall always make me assert, more than I did in my youth, that the constant cultivation of the feelings must take precedence of that of the intellect, and even of that of activity. On the other hand, I might be led, by my keen sense of the necessity of basing all real public virtue on the foundation of private excellence, to be too ex- clusive, and to undervalue the importance of civic morality, an importance inherent in it, and directly its own ; but I should soon correct my eiTor by a right estimation of the admirable sociability of my third patroness. In undertaking this work, which is an episode in my larger one, I have, then, the special assistance of all my three guardian angels. It is true, one alone actively participates, the other two co-operate silently ; but this in no way di- minishes the claim of those two to the veneration of all my followers. 26 PREFACE. Looked at from a more general point c»f view, the form of teaching I have adopted will be seen to convey directly a strong impression of the cha- racter of the religion to be taught. Spontaneously it brings out the fundamental nature of the Positive system of life. The great aim of that system is to enforce a systematic discipline of all the powers of man, and it rests principally on the constant con- currence of feeling with reason in the regulation of our action. !N"ow the present series of conversations always puts forward the heart and the intellect as acting in concert under a religious impulse, in order to bring under the influence of morality the material power to which the world of action is necessarily sub- jected. In that world the woman and the pi*iest are, as a fact, the two indispensable elements of the real moderating power, which must be both domestic and civic. This holy coalition in the interest of society I here organize, and in doing so I allow each of its constituents to proceed in conformity with its own nature. The heart states the questions; the in- tellect answers them. Thus the very form of this Catechism points at once to the great central idea of Positivism : man thinking under the inspiration of woman, the object being to bring about a con- currence of sjrnthesis with sympathy, in order to regularise the joint action of the two sexes. The adoption of this method for the new religious instruction shows that it is meant primarily for the sex in which affection predominates. This prefer- ence is in accordance with the true spirit of the PREFACE. 27 final regime. It is equally clear tliat it is, in an especial manner, adapted to the need of the last period of the transitional state ; for in this last period every influence which shall be recognised by the normal state must be working with even greater strength, if with less regularity. It is for Avomen, then, that this small work is especially meant; above all, for those who have no literary education. Not but that the better proletaiies will soon, as it appears to me, welcome it, and look on it as deciding the matter. Still women only can fully understand the preponderance that ought to be given to the habitual cultivation of the heart, borne down as it is by the coarse activity, both in speculation and action, which prevails in the modern Western world. It is only in the sanctuary of the female heart that, at the present day, we can find the noble submissive- ness of spirit required by a systematic regeneration. During the last four years the reason of the people has suffered profoundly from the unfortunate exer- cise of universal suffrage. It has received a bad bias, whereas it had previously been preserved from all constitutional sophisms, and from Parliamentary intrigues. The rich and the literary class had had a monopoly of them. A blind spirit of pride has been developed in our proletaries, and they have been led to think they could settle the highest social questions without any serious study. The southern populations of AYestern Europe have been much less tainted by this evil. The resistance of Catholicism has sheltered them against the meta- 28 PREFACE. physical influence of Protestantism or Deism. But reading negative books begins to spread the spirit even there. Turn where I will, it is only with women that I can find support. This is the conse- quence of their wholesome exclusion from political action. With their support, I can secure the free ascendancy of the principles which shall in the end qualify the proletaries to place their confidence aright on points of theory as well as on points of practice. The deep-seated intellectual anarchy of our time is another reason why Positive religion should appeal more particularly to the female sex. For that anarchy renders more necessary than ever the pre- dominance of feeling, as it is feeling alone which preserves Western society from a complete and irre- parable dissolution. Since the close of the Middle Ages, the influence of woman has been the sole, though unacknowledged, check on the moral evils naturally resulting from a state of mental alienation, the state to which the West has been more and more approximating — and in the West, especially its centre — France. This chronic state of unreason is now at its height, and since no maxim of social experience can resist the corrosive eflfects of discus- sion as actually conducted, it is feeling alone that maintains order in the West. And even feeling is seriously impaired already, so fatal has been the reaction on it of the sophisms of the intellect, which are always favourable to our personal instincts, in themselves naturally the stronger. PREFACE. 29 Our true cerebral constitution, ofters us tliree sympathetic tendencies. The first and last are already much weakened, the second nearly extinct, in the majority of those who take an active part in the agitation of the ^Yestern world. Penetrate beyond the mere exterior of existing families, and you find attachment has but little strength left, even in those relations of life which are its proper sphere. As for the general kindness, so loudly vaunted at present, it is far more an indication of hatred towards the rich, than of love for the poor. For modern philanthropy but too often gives ex- pression to its pretended benevolence in forms that are more appropriate to passion or envy. But the third social instinct, which, as the immediate basis of all true discipline of man, ought to be the most habitual, has suffered even more than the two others. The deterioration in this respect may be more easily seen in the rich and the educated classes ; but it reaches even the proletariate, except where a wise indifierence keeps them from mixing in any political movement. Still, veneration can continue to exist in the midst of the wildest revolutionary aberrations. Indeed, it is their best natural corrective. I myself experienced this during the profoundly negative phasis which necessarily preceded my systematic development. At that time it was enthusiasm alone that kept me from a sophistical demoralization; though this enthusiasm laid me peculiarly open for a time to the seductions of a shallow and depraved 30 PREFACE. juggler. Veneration, at the present day, is the decisive characteristic by which we may distinguish in the ranks of the revolutionary party those who are susceptible of a real regeneration ; a remark which is jjarticularly applicable to the case of those Communists who are not educated. In the immense majority of those who are yet simply negative, we may discover this valuable symptom. In the majority of their chiefs, we cannot. The existing state of anarchy everywhere gives a temporary predominance to bad natures. These men are abso- lutely unsusceptible of discipline. Yet, though few in number, they wield a vast influence, and they use that influence to infect with subversive ideas, and to ferment the heads of all who are without firm convictions. There is no remedy for this plague of Western Europe, except the contempt of the populations they address, or the severity of the Governments. The doctrine which alone can secure the regular action of these two safeguards, can at the outset meet with no decided support, except from the feeling of women, soon to be aided by the intelligence of the proletariate. Unless we secured the due intervention of woman, the discipline of Positivism would never succeed in dri\dng back into obscurity the pretended thinkers, who speak with decision on sociological questions, whilst igno- rant of arithmetic. For the people shares, in many respects, their worst faults, and so is, as yet, inca- pable of seconding the new priesthood in its contest with these dangerous talkers. At least I can, for PREFACE. 31 the moment, liope for no collective assistance from any quarter, except from the proletaries, who have hitherto taken no part in our political discussions. They are not the less instinctively attached, as even women are, to the social end proclaimed by the great revolution. To these two classes, then, women and proletaries, this Catechism appeals as ready for its acceptance. I have stated the general grounds which warrant my dii-ecting my attention chiefly to women. But, further, I have now for a long time thought, that it is on them that depends for its acceptance finally the solution which the whole of past history points to as the right solution of our Western difiiculties. In the first place, there would be an absurdity in expecting to end without them the most thorough of all human revolutions. In all previous revolu- tions they have had a large share. Were the repugnance they instinctively feel for our modem movement invincible, it would be quite enough to insure its failure. That repugnance is the real source of the fatal anomaly which places retrograde chiefs at the head of progressive populations — as though dulness and hypocrisy alone could furnish official security for the maintenance of order in the West. Till Positive religion has overcome this resistance on the part of women, it will never be able, in its treatment of the leading partisans of the different retrograde systems, to give free scope to its decided and just reprobation of their mental and moral inferiority. 32 PREFACE. If at the present day men deny the existence in our nature of the disinterested affections, they lay themselves open to just suspicion. Their rejection on this point of the demonstrations of modern science, must be owing to the radical imperfection of their o^Yn feelings. As they pursue no good, how- ever trifling, but from the hope of an infinite re- ward, or from the fear of an eternal punishment, they prove their heart to be as degraded as their intellect evidently is, considering the absurdity of the belief they hold. And yet the direction of "Western Europe is still entrusted to such men. And it is so in consequence of the tacit adhesion of women. Such characters will be, and that wisely, a sure ground of exclusion from all the higher func- tions of society, when Positivism shall have duly trained on systematic principles the reason of the majority. Meanwhile, the religion of Humanity wdll soon strip the retrograde party of the august support which is given it, solely from a just horror of anarchy. In spite of objections which seem warranted by experience, women are well disposed to form a right estimate of the only doctrine which in the present day can thoroughly combine order with progi^ess. Above all, they will recognise the fact that this final synthesis, while it comprehends every phase of our existence, yet gives a greater preponderance to feeling than was given by the provisional synthesis, which sacrificed to feeling the intellect and action of man. Positive Philosophy places morals at the PJREFACE. 33 summit of its encyclopedic construction, and so is in perfect agreement with the convictions of women. For morals, at once a science and an art, are neces- sarily the most important and the most difficult branch of study. In them are summed up all the rest, and they rise above the rest. The senti- ments of chivahy receive at length a full develop- ment, and are no longer confined by the conflicting tendencies of the prevalent theological beliefs. The system of Positive worship looks on woman as the moral providence of our species. In that system every true woman, in daily life, is considered the best representative of the real Great Being. The system of life, or regime, which answers to the worship, constitutes, on systematic principles, the family as the normal basis of society. And by that constitution, it leads to the due prevalence in the family of woman's influence, for in her is vested the supreme control, so far as that control can be private, of the education of all. On all these grounds, Positivism will soon be fully appreciated by women, once let them be adequately instructed in its more mai-ked characteristics. Some might at first regret the loss of the chimerical hopes they had once cherished ; but even they would not be slow to see the moral superiority of the subjective immortality offered by Positivism. It is by its nature thoroughly altruistic, or unselfish ; and therefore, as I said, morally superior to the old ob- jective immortality, which could never clear itself of the egoistic, or selfish, character. The law of D 34 PREFACE. eternal widowhood, the characteristic of marriage ill the Positivist sense, would be enough, in this respect, to decide the comparison. From the revolution of Western Europe, women must no longer stand aloof In order to secure their due incorporation into the movement, its last phase must be looked on as having for them a deep and special interest, in direct relation with the true object of women's existence. Clear off all superficial adjuncts, and four great classes constitute modern society. The four were destined to experience in succession the shock which the final regeneration of that society rendered in- evitable. The convulsion began in the last century with the intellectual element. The class which represented it rose in insurrection against the whole existing system based on the ideas of theology and war. The political explosion which was the natural result soon followed. It began with the middle classes, who had long been eager to take the place of the nobility. Throughout Europe the nobility resisted, and its resistance could only be overcome by calling in the French proletariate to support their new political chiefs. Thus led to mix in the great political struggle, the proletariate of Western Europe put forward its claim — a claim which there was no resisting, from its justice — to be incorporated into the system of modern society. It was put forward as soon as peace allowed the proletariate to make its wishes sufficiently clear. Still the revolutionary chain is incomplete, for it PREFACE. 35 does not embrace the most fundamental element of the system of human order rightly viewed. The revolution, in regard to vromen, must be the com- plement of the revolution which took in the jDrole- tariate, just as this last consolidated the revolution of the middle classes, sprung in its turn originally from the philosophical revolution. Not till this last step has been taken will our modern movement have really prepared all that is essential for the basis of the final regeneration. Till it takes in women, it can have no other result but to prolong the lamentable series of oscillations between retrogression and anarchy. But this, its final and decisive step to completion, follows as a result of the whole of the antecedent phases, more naturally than any one of those phases spnmg from its predecessor. In particular, it is connected with the popular phase ; for the social incorporation of the proletariate is necessarily dependent on the due establishment of the principle that woman must be set free from the necessity of all labour away from her own home. Between the two questions there evidently exists the closest mutual connexion ; for unless this exemption be universal, as the indis- pensable complement of the abolition of serfage, the family of the proletary would be essentially defec- tive in its constitution, since in it women would remain habitually exposed to the horrible alterna- tive of misery or prostitution. The best practical summary of the programme of modem order will soon be this indisputable prin- d2 36 PREFACE. ciple — man ought to support woman, in order that woman may be enabled to fulfil properly lier lioly social purpose. My Catechism will, I hope, set in a clear light the close connexion of such a condition with the whole of the gi-eat movement of renova- tion, not merely in its moral, but in its mental, and even its material aspect. Influenced by the holy reaction of this revolution in the position of women, the revolution in that of the proletariate will soon clear itself of the subversive tendencies which have hitherto neutralized it. Woman's object is every- where the same, to secure the due supremacy of moral force ; so she is led to visit with especial reprobation all collective violence. She is still less ready to accept the yoke of numbers than that of wealth. Her silent social influence will soon modify the two remaining parts of the Western revo- lution ', and the modifications, though not so directly traceable to it, will be equally valuable with those already mentioned. Her influence will facilitate the advent to political power of the industrial patriciate, and of the Positive priesthood; it will do so by leading both to set themselves clear once for all from the heterogeneous and ephemeral classes who were at the head of the transition whilst it was in its negative phase. So completed, so puri- fied, the revolution of Western Europe will proceed in a free and systematic course towards its peaceful termination, under the general direction of the true servants of Humanity. Their guidance will have an organic and progressive character which will PREFACE. 37 completely set aside all retrograde and anarchical parties, Tliey will look on any one who persists in the theological or metaphysical state as disqualified by weakness of the brain for government. I have gone through the essential conditions, the fulfilment of which shows that this Catechism is fully adapted to discharge its most important office, whether in the present or the future. When Positive religion shall have gained sufficient exten- sion, this work will be its best summary for con- stant use. For the present it must serve to pre- pare the way for the free adoption of Positi^^ism. It may stand as a general view of the subject, suitable for the propagation of the religion, whereas hitherto there was no systematic guidance ac- cessible. If we look to the form and the course of this episode in my great construction, still more if we view it as a whole, it expresses all the great intel- lectual and moral attributes of the new faith. It will be felt that I have constantly kept in sight the due subordination of the reason of man to the feel- ing of woman. This is necessary, in order that the heart may bring all the powers of the intellect to bear on the most difficult and important province of teaching. Ultimately it will react on another point. It will secure respect for, and even the ex- tension to others of my own personal worship, of the angel from whom I derive at once its chief suggestions and the best mode of expounding them. Such services will soon render my sainted hearer 38 PREFACE. dear to all who sliall have undergone a true regene- ration. Henceforward her glorification is insepa- rable from mine ; it will constitute my most valued reward. She is for all time incorporated into the true Supreme Being, of whom her tender image is allowed to be for me the best representative. In each of my three daily prayers I adore both toge- ther, and I sum up all my wishes for personal per- fection in the admirable form by which the sub- limest of Mystics was led to prepare, in his own manner, the moral motto of Positivism (Live for others). Amen te plus quam me, nee me nisi propter te. AUGUSTE COMTE, Founder of the Religion of Humanity. Paris, 25th Charlemagne 64, Sunday, 14th July, 1852. To increase the usefulness of this Catechism, I add to its preface an improved edition of the short catalogue of books which I published October 8th, 1851, with the view of guiding the more thoughtful minds among the people in their choice for con- stant use. No other priesthood could discharge this office. The Positive priesthood is enabled to do so by the encyclopedic character of its educa- tion and teaching, which thus becomes more easily appreciable. Both the intellect and the moral character suffer grievously at the present time from irregular reading. This fact is sufficient to indicate the increasing value of this small work, conceived PREFACE. 39 in a synthetical spirit. The collection named has not yet been formed, still each one can without difficulty even now collect in one shape or another its separate parts. Positivist Library for the Nineteenth Century. 150 Yolumes. I. POETRY. (Thirty Volumes.) The Iliad and the Odyssey, in one volume, without notes. iEschylus, The King (Edipus of Sophocles, and Aristophanes, in one volume, without notes. Pindar, Theocritus, Daphnis and Chloe, in one volume, with- out notes. Plautus and Terence, in one volume, without notes. Virgil, selections from Horace, Lucan, in one volume, without notes. Ovid, Tibullus, Juvenal, Fabliaux of the Middle Ages, by Legrand D' Aussy. Dante, Ariosto, Tasso, Petrarca, in one volume, in Italian, Select Plays of Metastasio and Alfieri, also in Italian. I Promessi Sposi, by Manzoni, in one volume, in Italian. Don Quixote, and the Novels of Cervantes, in Spanish, in one volume. Select -Spanish Dramas, a collection edited by Don Jose Segundo Florez, in one volume, in Spanish. The Eomancero Espanol, a selection, with the poem of the Cid, one volume, in Spanish. Select Plays of P. Comeille. Moliere. Select Plays of Racine and Voltaire, in one volume. La Fontaine's Fables, with some from Florian and Lamotte, Gil Bias, by Lesage. 40 PREFACE. The Princess of Cleves, Paul and Yirginia, and the Last of the Abencerrages, to be collected in one volume. The Martyrs, by Chateaubriand. Select Plays of Shakspeare. Milton — Paradise Lost and Lyrical Poems. Robinson Crusoe and the Vicar of Wakefield, in one volume. Tom Jones, by Fielding, in English, or translated by Cheron. The seven masterpieces of "Walter Scott — Ivanhoe, Quentin Durward, the Fair Maid of Perth, the Legend of Montrose, Woodstock, the Heart of Midlothian, the Antiquary. Select works of Byron, Don Juan in particular to be suppressed. Select works of Goethe. The Arabian Nights. n. SCIENCE. (Thirty Volumes.) Condorcet's Arithmetic, Algebra and Greometry of Clairaut, the Trigonometry of Lacroix or Legendre, the three to form one volume. The Analytical Greometry of Auguste Comte, preceded by the Geometry of Descartes. Statics, by Poinsot, with all his Memoirs on Mechanics. The Course of Analysis given by Navier at the Ecole Polytech- nique, followed by the Essay of Carnot on Equilibrium and Motion. The Theory of Functions, by Lagrange. The Popular Astronomy of Auguste Comte, followed by the Worlds of Fontenelle. Fischer's JMechanical Physics, translated and annotated by Biot. Alphabetical Manual of Practical Philosophy, by John Carr. The Chemistry of Lavoisier. Chemical Statics, by Berthollet. Elements of Chemistry, by James Graham. Manual of Anatomy, by Meckel. The General Anatomy of Bichat, preceded by his Treatise on Life and Death, PREFACE. 41 The first volume of Blainville on the Organization of Animals. The Physiology of Richerand, with Notes by Berard, and the Physiology of Claude Bernard. Systematic Essay on Biology, by Segond, and his Treatise on General Anatomy. Nouveaux fllements de la Science de THomme, Barthez (2nd edition, 1806). Zoological Philosophy, by Lamarck. Dumerirs Natural History. Buffon — Discourses on the Nature of Animals. The Art of Prolonging Human Life, by Hufeland, preceded by Hippocrates on Air, "Water, and Situation, and fol- lowed by Cornaro's book on Sobriety, to form one volume. The History of Chronic Inflammation, by Broussais, preceded by his Propositions de j\Iedecine. The Eloges des Savans, by Fontenelle and Condorcet. in. HISTORY. (Sixty Volumes.) The Abrdg^ de Geographie Universelle, by Malte Brun. Rienzi — Geographical Dictionary. Cook's Voyages, and those of Chardin. Mignet — History of the French Revolution. Heeren — Manual of Modem History. Voltaire — Siecle de Louis XIV. Memoirs of Madame de Motteville. The Political Testament of Richelieu, and the Life of Cromwell, to form one volume. Memoirs of Benvenuto Cellini, in Italian. Memoirs of Commines. The Abreg^ de I'Histoire de France, by Bossuet. The Revolutions of Italy, by Denina. The History of Spain, by Ascargorta. Robertson — Charles V. Hume — History of England. 42 PKEFACE. Hailam — Middle Ages. Fleuiy — Ecclesiastical History. Gibbon — Decline and Fall. Manual of Ancient History — Heeren. Tacitus. Herodotus, Thucydides, in one volume. Plutarcb's Lives. Csesar's Commentaries, and Arrian's Alexander, in one volume. The Voyage of Anacharsis, by Barthelemy. The History of Art among the Ancients, by Winckelmann. Treatise on Painting, by Leonardo da Vinci, in Italian. Memoirs on Music, by Gr^try. IV. SYNTHESIS. (Thirty Volumes.) Aristotle's Ethics and Politics, in one volume. The Bible. The Coran. The City of God, by St. Augustin. The Confessions of St. Augustin, followed by St. Bernard on the Love of God. The Imitation of Jesus Christ, the original, and the French translation by Corneille. The Catechism of Montpellier, preceded by the Exposition of Catholic Doctrine, by Bossuet, and followed by St. Augus- tin' s Commentary on the Sermon on the Mount. History of Protestant Variations, by Bossuet. Descartes — Discourse on Method, preceded by Bacon's Novum Organum, and followed by the Interpretation of Nature, by Diderot. Pascal's Thoughts, followed by those of Vauvenargues, and Madame de Lambert's Conseils d'une Mere. Bossuet' s Discourse on Universal History, followed by Condor- cet's Esquisse Historique. De Maistre's Treatise on the Pope, preceded by Bossuet's Politique Sacree. PREFACE. 43 Hume's Philosophical Essays, preceded by the two Dissertations on the Deaf and the Blind, by Diderot, and followed by Adam Smith's Essay on the History of Astronomy. Theory of the Beautiful, by Barthez, preceded by the Essay on the Beautiful, by Diderot. Cabanis — Les Rapports du Physique et du Moral de 1' Homme. Treatise on the Functions of the Brain, by Gall, preceded by Georges Leroy's Letters on Animals. Broussais — Treatise on Irritation and Madness. The Positive Philosophy of Auguste Comte (condensed by Miss Martineau), his Positive Politics, and Positivist Catechism. Paris, 5th Dante 66 (Tuesday, 18th July, 1854). INTRODUCTION. GENERAL THEORY OF RELIGION. CONVERSATION I. TJie Woman. — I have often asked myself this ques- tion, my dear father. Your doctrine rejects every form of belief in a supernatural power; why do you persist in calling it a Religion 1 But on reflec- tion the fact struck me, that the term, Religion, is, in common use, given to many systems, not merely different, but even incompatible the one with the other. Each of these systems claims exclusive possession of it ; yet no one of them has at any time been able, if you take the whole race into account, to reckon up as many adherents as opponents. I was hence led to think that this fundamental term must have some one general acceptation, radically independent of every special form of faith. Once ar- rived at this point, I felt convinced that it was on this essential meaning of the term that you fixed, and that you were justified therefore in apphdng it to Positi\dsm, in spite of the greater contrast that exists between it and the previous doctrines, which 46 INTRODUCTION. openly avow tliat their mutual points of difference are quite as serious as the points in which they agree. Still, as this explanation seems to me yet far from clear, would you begin your exposition by explaining at once and in precise language the ra- dical sense of the word Religion ? The Priest. — Looking to the etymology of the term, my dear daughter, we find as a fact that it has no necessary connexion with any opinions whatever that may be considered useful for attain- ing the end it sets before us. In itself it expresses the state of perfect imity which is the distinctive mark of man's existence, both as an individual and in society, when all the constituent parts of his nature, moral as well as physical, are made habitu- ally to converge towards one common purpose. Thus the term religion would be equivalent to synthesis, were it not that this last, not by force of its composition, but by nearly universal custom, is now limited entirely to the domain of the intel- lect, whilst the otlier embraces all the attributes of man. Religion, then, consists in regulating each one s individual nature, and forms the rallying point for all the separate individuals. These are but two distinct forms of one and the same problem ; for every man, at different periods of his life, differs from himself not less than at any one time he differs from those around him ; so that for the in- dividual, as for the community, the laws of perma- nence and participation are identical. The full attainment of this harmony, for the in- INTRODUCTION. 47 dividual or for the society, is never possible, so complicated is our existence. This definition of religion, consequently, is meant to convey an idea of the unchanging type towards which, by a com- bination of all our exertions, we gradually approxi- mate. Man's happiness and merit consist in draw- ing as near as possible to this unity. Its gradual development is the best measure of our real pro- gress towards perfection, as individuals, or as so- cieties. As the various attributes of man come into freer play, it becomes more important that they should habitually act in concert. But, at the same time, this would become more difficult, were it not that theii' evolution has of itself a tendency to make us more susceptible of discipline. This I will ex- plain soon. Now, as a high value was always set on this synthetical state, attention was naturally concen- trated on the means of attaining it. Thus men were led to take the means for the end, and to transfer the name of religion to any of the systems of opinions which it represented. At first sight, these numerous forms of belief appear ii-reconcilable. Positivism, however, can bring them into an es- sential agreement, by vievring each in reference to the purpose it answered in its own time and country. There is, at bottom, but one religion, at once universal and final. To it all the partial and provisional religious more and more pointed, so far as the whole state of things at the time allowed. The various religions of man have been empirical. 48 INTRODUCTION. We substitute for tliem a systematic religion, deve- loping the unity of man ; for it has at length be- come possible to constitute such a religion imme- diately and completely, by combining the results of our previous unsystematic state. As a natural con- sequence, then, of its principles. Positivism re- moves the antagonism of the different religions which have preceded it, for it claims as its own peculiar domain that common ground on which they all instinctively rested. Nor could the doc- trine of Positivism ever be universally received, were it not for its relative character. This secures for it, in spite of its anti-theological principles, by the nature of the case, strong affinities with every form of belief that has been able for a time to form the guidance of any part of the human race. The Woman. — Your definition of religion will set me completely at ease, my father, if you can succeed in clearing up a serious difficulty, which seems to be the consequence of its too great comprehensive- ness. In stating your idea of man's unity, you take in his physical as well as his moral nature. They are, in fact, so bound up together, that no true har- mony is possible if you separate them ; and yet I find it difficult to accustom myself to look on health as a part of religion, so as to make morality really take in medicine. The Priest. — And yet, my daughter, the arbitrary separation of the two, which now exists, and which you wish to perpetuate, would be directly contrary to our unity. The origin of that separation is, in INTRODUCTION. 49 reality, the inadequacy of the last provisional reli- gion, Catholicism, which found itself unable to dis- cipline the soul, unless it gave into profane hands the management of the body. In the ancient theocracies, the most complete and most durable form of the supernatural regime, this groundless division did not exist. In them the art of preserv- ing health and of curing diseases was always a mere adjunct of the priestly functions. Such is really the natural order of things. Posi- tivism comes forward to restore it and to consoli- date it ; and it does so by virtue of the complete- ness which characterizes it. The art of man and the science of man are each of them inseparable from the other; they have a common destination, though the object they have in view may present itself under different aspects. But it is not, there- fore, divisible; on the contrary, aU its parts are intimately connected. No sound treatment of either body or mind is possible, now that the phy- sician and the priest make an exclusive study, the one of the physical, the other of the moral nature of man — not to speak of the philosopher, who, in our modern anarchy, wrests fi'om the priesthood the domain of the intellect, leaving it only the heart. The diseases of the brain, besides many others, daily prove the powerlessness of all medical treat- ment which limits itself to the lowest organs. It is quite as easy to see the inadequacy of every priesthood which aims at guiding the soul, and does not take into account its subordination to the body. E 50 INTRODUCTION. Under both points of view the separation is anar- chical. The domain of the priesthood must be reconstituted in its integrity ; medicine must again become a part of it. This will be the case when the clergy of Positive religion shall have adequately fulfilled the encyclopedic conditions required of them. As a matter of fact, the precepts of health can secure active obedience only when they are rested on moral grounds. This is true equally of the individual and the society. It is easily verified by the fruitlessness of the efibrts made by our physicians in Western Europe to regulate common diet. They have been fruitless ever since the old religious precepts lost their hold. Men will not generally submit to any practical inconvenience on the ground of their own mere personal health, — each one is left, on this ground, to judge for himself. And we are often more sensible of actual and certain annoyance than of distant and doubtful advantages. We must call in an authority supe- rior to all individual judgment, to be able to pre- scribe, even in unimportant points, rules which shall have any real efficacy. Such rules will then rest on a view of the needs of society, which shall admit of no hesitation as to obedience. The Woman. — Now that I have surveyed, in all its extent, the natural province of religion, I should be glad to knov/, my father, what are the general conditions on which it de^oends. I have been often told that it exclusively concerns the heart. But I have always thought that the intellect is also con- INTRODUCTION. 51 cerned with it. Could I gain a clear idea of the parts respectively assigned them ? The Priest. — A right judgment on this point, my daughter, follows from a searching examination of the word religion, the best, perhaps, in point of compositio.n, of all the terms used by man. It is so constructed as to express a twofold connexion, which, if justly conceived, is sufficient as a resume of the whole abstract theory of man's unity. To constitute a couiplete and durable harmony, what is wanted, is really, to hind together man's inner nature by love, and tlien to hind the man to the outer world by faith. Such, generally stated, is the necessary participation of the heart and the intellect respectively, in reference to the synthe- tical state, or unity, of the individual or the so- ciety. Unity implies, above all, one feeling to which all oiu' different inclinations can be subordinated. For, as our actions and our thouglits are always swayed by our affections, harmony would be unattainable by man if these affections were not co-ordinated under the preponderance of oue instinct. This is the condition on which our internal unity depends. But it would be inadequate, did not our intelligence make us recognise, outside of us, a superior power, to which our existence must always be in subjection, even whilst we attempt to modify it. To qualify us better for subjects of this ultimate rule, — this is the primary reason why our moral harmony, as individuals or as societies, is indispen- e2 52 INTRODUCTIOX. sable. And, reversing the process, this predonu- nance of the external tends to regulate the internal, by favouring the ascendancy of that instinct which most easily accepts such a necessity. So there is a natural connexion between the two general con- ditions on which religion depends, especially when the external order of tilings can become the object on which the inward feeling can rest. The Woman. — This abstract theory of our unity presents, my father, one radical difficulty, viz., as regards the question of moral influence. In youi- consideration of the internal harmony, you seem to me to forget that our personal instincts have, un- ibrtunately, greater energy than our sympathetic tendencies. Now the preponderance of these per- sonal instincts, which seems a reason for their being made the natural centre of our moral existence, would, on the other hand, make our personal unity almost incomj^atible with any social unity. Yet the liarmony of the individual has been found not irreconcilable with that of the society, so that I need some fresh explanations to show tliat the two are in themselves entirely compatible. The Priest. — You have touched, my daughter, on the most difficult problem of man's existence. That problem is, to secure the gradual predominance of sociability over personality ; whereas, when left to themselves, personality is predominant. The better to understand how this may be done, we must begin by comparing the two opposite forms which our moral unity might naturally take, according as its INTRODUCTIOX. 53 internal basis should be egoistic or altruistic (per- sonal or relative). You^used the plural in speaking of our person- ality, and you by so doing involuntarily bore witness to the fact that personality is radically powerless to constitute any real and lasting harmony, even in the case of a being quite cut off from society. The monstrous unity so formed would require not merely the absence of every impulse of a sym- pathetic character, but also the preponderance of one single selfish instinct. Now this is only found in the lowest animals. With them the instinct of nutrition absorbs everything, especially when there is no distinction of sex. But except in them, and most particularly in man, this primary want once supplied, there is scope left for the prevalence in succession of several personal instincts. These are nearly equal in point of energy, and so would mutually neutralize the conflicting claims of each to the entire command of our existence as moral beings. Unless they were all brought into subor- dination to affections resting on some outward object, the heart would be for ever agitated by internal conflicts between the impulses of the senses and the stimulus of pride or of vanity, sup- posing that avarice, strictly so called, should cease to reign, together with the purely bodily wants. Moral unity, then, is impossible, even in a solitary existence, in the case of any being absolutely under the dominion of personal affections, which prevent his livino; for others. We find instances in several 54 INTRODUCTION. of the wild animals. They are seen, putting aside some temporary congregation, to oscillate generally between a disorderly activity and an ignoble toi^or, the result of their not finding outside of themselves the principal motives for their conduct. The Woman. — I understand now, my father, the natural coincidence that exists between the condi- tions on which the individual, and those on which the harmony of society, depends. Still, however, I find the same difiiculty exists — that of conceiving that the strongest instincts can be habitually set aside. The Priest. — The difficulty, my daughter, is one which will easily disappear. Only remark that unity in the altruistic sense does not, as the egoistic unity does, require the entire sacrifice to itself of the inclinations which are contrary to it in principle. All it asks is, that they shall be wigely subordinate to the predominant afiection. When it condenses the whole of sound morality in its law of Live for others, Positivism allows and consecrates the con- stant satisfaction of our several personal instincts. It considers such satisfaction indispensable to our natural existence, which is and always must be the foundation for all our higher attributes. Allowing this, it blames, however estimable the motives that lead to them often may be, any austerities which, by lessening our strength, make us less fit to serve others. It recommends attention to ourselves in the interest of society, and so at once raises and regulates such attention. We avoid equally the IXTRODUCTIOX. 55 two extremes of excessive care and culpable neg- ligence. The Woman. — But, my father, as the egoistic inclinations, in themselves stronger, are, further, constantly excited by our bodily wants, it seems to me that, even thus limited, the sanction of them is incompatible with the habitual superiority of our weak sympathetic impulses. The Priest. — Yes, and therefore it is, my daugh- ter, that our moral improvement will always form the principal object on which man must exert his art. Our constant efforts, both as individuals and societies, though they bring us nearer to it, never enable us to realize it completely. The solution of your difficulty is a progressive one. Its possibility rests entirely on the social existence of man, in accordance with the natural law which develops or restrains our functions and our organs in propor- tion to their exercise or disuse. As a fact, our domestic and civic relations have a tendency to keep within due bounds our personal instincts, as the result of the struggles between individuals to which these instincts give rise. On the other hand, these same relations favour the growth of our feelings of benevolence, the only ones that admit of a simultaneous development in all. And this development is, by its nature, continuous, as the mutual stimulus is continuous, although it finds necessarily a limit in the aggregate of the material conditions of our existence. You have here the reason why a real moral 56 INTRODUCTION. unity could only come into existence in the case of man. For social progress must be the exclusive possession of the best organized of the races capable of society, except so far as others may join it as free auxiliaries. Still, though such a harmony cannot be developed elsewhere, it is easy to trace its beginning in many of the higher animals. From them were in fact drawn the first scientific proofs of the natural existence of disinterested afiection. This great conception, of which, even previous to all scientific proof, all had a presentiment, was long in being placed on a systematic ground ; otherwise no one would, at the present day, impute the cha- racter of sentimental afiectation to a doctrine which may be directly verified in so many of the inferior species. The Wcmian. — Your explanation meets my diffi- culties. I have only, my father, to ask you to clear up one last point of a general character — I mean, the intellectual conditions of religion. I see the incoherence of the various special forms of belief; but I do not see, beyond that incoherence, what is the essential province of faith. And yet it must be possible to say what faith is, independently of all systems, and in a sense applicable to them all. Tlie Priest. — Practically, my daughter, the faith of man never had but one object, if you jDress to the root of the matter. This was, to form a conception of the order under whicli man lives, with the view of determining our relation generally to that order. Man might ascribe that order to fictitious causes. INTRODUCTIOX. 57 or lie might study its real laws ; in either case, his object was to estimate that order which was inde- pendent of him, with the view of submitting to it better, and of attaining a greater power of modify- ing it. Every system of religious doctrines neces- sarily rests on some explanation, no matter what, of the world and of man — the twofold object at all times of our thoughts, whether directed to specu- lation or to action. Faith, in the Positive sense, has for its proper office the setting forth of the real laws of the dif- ferent phenomena that are open to observation, whether internal or external. By the laws of phe- nomena I mean, their unvarying relations of suc- cession and resemblance, by which we are able to foresee some by virtue of our knowledge of others. Such faith puts aside, as absolutely beyond our reach and essentially conducive to no useful result, every inquiry into the causes, properly so called, either first causes or final, of any events whatever. In its theoretical conceptions, it never explains ichy a thing is; it limits itself to the question, hoiu it is. But when it is pointing out the means of guiding our activity, it takes the contraiy course, and puts for- ward in constant prominence the end to be attained, as in such cases the practical efiect is .certainly the result of an intelligent will. Yet though, in its direct results, vain, the search after causes was, at the outset, indispensable and inevitable, as a substitute and preparation for the knowledge of laws, a knowledge whicli pre-supposes 58 INTRODUCTION. a long previous introduction. This I will explain more in detail. Men sought the why, and could not find it ; in the search they discovered the hoio, though they had not bent their studies immediately in that direction. We need not blame them for this, but we may blame the childishness of persist- ing, as our literary men so commonly do, in the attempt to penetrate to causes when the laws are kno^vn. These last alone have any influence on conduct, so that the search after the others becomes as useless as it is chimerical. The Universal religion, then, adopts, as its funda- mental dogma, the fact of the existence of an order, which admits of no variation, and to which all events of every kind are subject. This order is at once objective and subjective ; in other words, it concerns equally the object contemplated and the subject which contemplates. Physical laws, in fact, imply logical laws, and vice versa. If our under- standing did not of itself obey any rule, it would never be able to appreciate the external harmony. And as the world is simpler and more powerful than man, the regular action of man would be still less compatible with the absence of order in the world. All Positive belief, then, rests on this twofold har- mony between the object and the subject. That there is such an order can be shown as a fact, but it cannot be explained. So far from it, it supplies the only possible source of any rational explanation. Such explanation consists in bringing under general laws each particular event, which INTRODUCTION. 59 thus comes within the sphere of prevision based on systematic principles, the really distinctive end that all true science proposes to itself. And therefore the Universal order was not recognised so long as the idea prevailed of an arbitrary will, to which men naturally at first attributed all the most im- portant phenomena. It was recognised at last in reference to the simplest events, in defiance of the contrary opinions, on the evidence of experience constantly recurring and never belied. From the simpler, its recognition gradually extended to the more complex events. Not till our own time was its recognition complete, for it embraces now its last domain ; it represents as subject to invariable laws the highest phenomena — man's intelligence and his social existence — a point still denied by many culti- vated minds. This fiinal discoveiy led to Positivism as its natural immediate result. It was the com- pletion of our long scientific initiation. As such it ne- cessarily closed the preliminary era of human reason. The Woman. — This first general view, my father, leaves me with the impression that the Positive faith is very satisfactory for the intellect, but scarcely favourable enough to the action of man. It seems to place this last under the control of an inflexible destiny ; and yet you often say that the Positive spirit had its origin, in all cases, in the practical part of man's life, so that it can hardly be in contradiction with that part. I would gladly have a clear conception how the two are brought into general agreement. 60 INTRODUCTION. The Priest. — To get this conception, my daughter, all you have to do is to rectify your judgment so far as it led you to look on actual laws as not susceptible of modification. Whilst phenomena were attributed to the arbitrary will of some being, an absolute fate was a conception necessary as the correction of an hypothesis, the direct consequence of which v/as the non-existence of any real order. Later, the discovery of natural laws had the same general tendency; for the laws first discovered were those which regulated the events of astro- nomical science — events entirely out of the reach of man's interference. But as the knowledge of the order of things gradually extended, men came to regard that order as essentially admitting modifica- tions, even by the agency of man. It becomes more susceptible of modification as the phenomena become more complicated, as I will explain to you shortly. At the present day, we do not consider even the order of the heavenly bodies exempt from the idea of modification. Its superior simplicity allows us more easily to conceive improve- ments in it. The object of such conception would be to correct the spirit of blind respect, though our weakness in regard to physical means may for ever debar us from realizing the improvements we con- ceive. All events equally, even the most complex, de- pend on some fundamental conditions which admit of no change. But in all cases, even the most simple, it is also true that tlie secondary arrange- IXTRODUCTIOX. 61 ments may be modified, and very generally they may he so by our intervention. The modifications introduced in no way impair the validity of the general principle, that the laws of nature are inva- riable. For the modifications never can be arbitrary. In their nature and degree they must obey appro- priate rules which are the complement of the do- main of science. An entire immutability would be so contrary to the very idea of law, that this idea in all cases expresses constancy perceived in the midst of variety. We find, then, that the order of nature always answers to the idea of a necessity admitting modifi- cations, and as such becomes the indispensable basis of the order which man introduces. Our life is really destined to be a compound of resignation and action. The two are not incompatible ; far from it. Action rests directly on the foundation of resignation. A sound judgment leads us to submit to the fundamental laws which concern us, as the only means of preventing all our purposes, of what- ever nature, from becoming vague and uncertain; the only means therefore of enabling us to practise a wise interference in accordance with the secon- dary rules. You thus see how the dogmatic system of Positivism directly sanctions our action, whereas no theological synthesis could comprehend it. We even find that in Positivism, the free development of our activity is the chief regulator of our scientific labours in regard to the order of the world, and the different modifications it admits. 62 INTRODUCTION. The Woman. — After this explanation, I have yet, my father, to learn how Positive faith and our feelings can be brought into full harmony. They seem to me by nature diametrically opposed to one another. I can understand, however, that the fundamental dogma of that faith supplies us with a strong basis for moral discipline, in two ways : first, by bringing our personal inclinations under the con- trol of an external power ; secondly, by awakening our instincts of sympathy to make us more wisely submit to or modify the necessity which presses on us all in common. These are valuable attributes. But still Positivism does not seem to oiFer enough of direct stimulus to the holy affections, which seem properly to constitute the most important province of religion. The Priest. — I am free to confess, my daughter, that hitherto the Positive spirit has been tainted with the two moral evils which peculiarly wait on knowledge. It puffs up and it dries the heart, by giving free scope to pride and by turning it from love. These two tendencies will always be suffi- ciently strong in it to make it necessary habitually to adopt systematic precautions. Of them I will speak later. Still in the main, on this point, your reproaches are the result of an inadequate judgment of Positivism, the consequence of your looking at it solely as it exists in a state of incompleteness in the greater number of its adherents. They limit themselves to the philosophical conception which is the offspring of the scientific preparation; they INTRODUCTION. 63 will not go on to tlie religious conclusion in which alone Positive Philosophy, as a whole, finds its ade- quate expression. If we do not stop short at this point, but complete the study of the real order of nature, then we see the Positive system of dogmas finally grou^D itself around a synthetic conception, as favourable to the heart as it is to the intellect. The imaginary beings, whom religion provision- ally introduced for its purposes, were able to inspire lively afiections in man; affections which were even most powerful under the least elaborate of the fictitious systems. The immense scientific prepara- tion required as an introduction to Positivism, for a long time seemed to deprive it of any such valu- able aptitude. Whilst the philosophical initiation only comprehended the order of the material world, nay, even when it had extended to the order of living beings, it could only reveal laws which were indispensable for our action, it could not furnish us with any direct object for an enduring and con- stant afiection. This is no longer the case since the completion of our gradual preparation by the introduction of the special study of the order of man's existence, whether as an individual or as a society. This is the last step in the process. We are now able to condense the whole of our Positive concep- tions in the one single idea of an immense and eternal Being, Humanity, destined by sociological laws to constant development under the prepon- derating influence of biological and cosmological G4 INTRODUCTION. necessities. This, the real Great Being, on whom all, whether individuals or societies, depend as the prime mover of their existence, becomes the centre of our affections. They rest in it by as spon- taneous an impulse as do our thoughts and our actions. This Being, by its very idea, suggests at once the sacred formula of Positivism : — Love as our princi2)Le; Order as our basis; and Progress as our end. Its compound existence is ever founded on the free concurrence of independent wills. All dis- cord tends to dissolve that existence, which, by its very notion, sanctions the constant predominance of the heart over the intellect as the sole basis of our true unity. So the whole order of things hence- forth finds its expression in the being who studies it and is ever perfecting it. The struggle of Hu- manity against the combined influences of the necessities it is obliged to obey, growing as it does in energy and success, offers the heart no less than the intellect a better object of contemplation than the capricious omnipotence of its theological pre- cursor, capricious by the very force of the term omnipotence. Such a Supreme Being is more within the reach of our feelings as well as of our conceptions, for it is identical in nature with its servants, at the same time that it is superior to them. As such it more powerfully excites them to an activity, the aim of which is its preservation and amelioration. The Woman. — Still, my father, the physical labour necessitated by our bodily wants seems to me directly in opposition with this tendency to INTRODUCTIOX. 65 affection which you claim for Positive religion. Surely such activity can never be free from a cha- racter of egoism, extendiug even to the scientific efforts it induces us to make. Now this alone would be enough to prevent the actual predomi- nance of love as an all-pervading influence. The Priest. — I cherish the hope, my daughter, that I shall shortly get you to allow that it is pos- sible to effect a thorough transformation of the spirit of selfishness originally inherent in human labour. As man's action on matter becomes more and more collective, it tends more and more to assume an altruistic character, though the impulse of egoism must ever be indispensable to set it in motion. For as each habitually labours for others, he developes by such a conduct of his life the sym- pathies of others, granting that such conduct meets with sufl&cient appreciation. The toilsome servants of Humanity stand in need of nothing but a com- plete and familiar consciousness of the true nature of their life. This consciousness is destined to be the natural result of an adequate extension of Posi- tive education. You would even now see that this is the tendency of pacific activity, were the industrial life, which is at present subject to no systematic discipline, organized as the soldier's life is, the only organization as yet in existence. But the great moral results obtained formerly in the case of the soldier, and of which there are still traces even in his present degraded state, are a sufficient indica- tion of what the industrial life will produce. The F 66 INTRODUCTION. instinct of construction may even be expected to react in the direction of sympathy with greater directness and completeness than the instinct of destruction. The Woman. — This last part of your explanations, my father, makes me feel that I begin to master the general harmony of Positivism. I see how in it the activity of man, by its nature subordinate to faith, can also be made subordinate to love, though at first sight it seemed to reject its sway. And seeing this, I seem at length to see that your doc- trine fulfils all the essential conditions of Religion, according to your definition of the term. It is adapted equally to the three great divisions of our existence — loving, thinking, acting — which were never before so perfectly combined. The Priest. — The more you study the Positive synthesis, the more you will feel, my daughter, how by virtue of its reality it is more complete and efficacious than any other. The habitual j^redomi- nance of altruism over egoism, to secure which is tlie great problem for man, is in Positivism the direct result of the constant harmony between our best inclinations and all our labours, theoretical as well as practical. The life of action, represented by Catholicism as hostile to our invv^ard progress to perfection, becomes in Positivism its most powerful guarantee. You now find no difficulty in conceiv- ing this striking contrast between two systems, the one of which admits, whilst the other denies, the existence in our nature of disinterested aifection. IXTRODUCTION. 67 The bodily wants, which seemed destined to be a perpetual cause of separation, may for the future lead us to a closer union than if we were exempt from them. For action developes love better than wishes; and besides, what wishes could you form for those who wanted nothing ? It is easy also to see that the ideal yet real existence peculiar to Positivists necessarily surpasses, even in regard to the feelings, the chimerical life promised to the disciples of theological systems. The Woman. — This our introductory conversa- tion needs one thing to complete it. I should be glad, my father, if you would shortly explain your general division of Eeligiou. Each essential con- stituent will remain for future exposition. The Priest. — Such a division, my daughter, re- quires as its previous condition a just appreciation of the whole of the existence which religion must direct. The body of doctrine, the worship, and the system of life, respectively concern our thoughts, feelings, and our actions. The initiation iu our religion musb begin by an elaboration of its theory, so far as to make clear our conception of Humanity. We then proceed to the worship, or, in other words, to the system by which we cultivate the feelings adapted to the mode of existence prescribed us. After this, we resume our elaboration of the doctrine of Positivism, and explain the order on which it rests. Lastly, we proceed to the direct regulation of all human conduct. So you see how Positive reli- gion embraces at once the three great continuous F 2 68 INTRODUCTION. constructions of man, Poetry, Philosophy, Politics. But everything, in that religion, is subordinate to morals, be it the free play of oui- feelings, the deve- lopment of our knowledge, or the course of our actions ; so that morality is our constant guide in our threefold research after the beautiful, the true, the good. CONVEESATION II. HUMANITY. Tlie Woman. — Our first conversation, my father, has left a sense of alarm, so deeply do I feel my incompetence in presence of the " great argument" which you are going to set forth. The system of doctrine in Positive religion is one and the same thing as Positive Philosophy. Either from weakness or want of preparation, my mind seems unable to grasp the explanation of it, however simple you may make it. I bring with me nothing beyond a full confidence, a sincere respect, and an active sympathy for the doctrine which seems calculated, after so many failures, to overcome the prevailing anarchy. But I cannot but feel afraid lest something more than these moral dispositions is needed for me to enter with any chance of success on so difficult a study. The Priest. — Your uneasiness, my daughter, leads to some introductory remarks which I hope will soon reassure you. All we have to do, in the case INTRODUCTION. 69 of the new religion, is to give a general exposition which shall be the equivalent of that which formerly taught you Catholicism. This second operation ought to be even easier than the former, for your reason is now mature, and the doctrine that is pre- sented to it is, by its nature, demonstrable, and therefore more easily understood. I would have you also call to mind the admirable maxim which our great Moliere puts into the mouth of the man of taste in his last masterpiece — Je consens qu'une femme ait des clart^s de tout;* and remark further, that what was then '^I consent," would be now, " It is right." In strict truth, the priesthood and the public had always one and the same intellectual domain. The difference lay in the difference of cultivation, which was systematic in the case of the priesthood, left to its natural course in the public. Without such an essential agreement, no religious harmony would be conceivable. In Positivism it becomes at once more direct and more complete than it could ever be under any theological system. The true philo- sophical spirit has, in reality, equally with simple good sense, to know what is, in order to foresee what shall be, with a view of bettering it where possible. One of our best Positive precepts even teaches that every attempt to systematize is faulty, or at any rate premature, if not preceded and pre- * Femmes Savantes, act I. sc. iii. 70 IXTRODUCTION. pared by a sufficient progress attained by a man's own effi^rts. This rule is an immediate consequence of the dogmatical verse by which Positivism cha- racterizes our existence as a whole — To act fi-om aflfection, and to think in order to act. The first half answers to the natural and spontaneous development ; the second, to the systematic one which follows upon it. Action, unguided by reflection, may occasion many inconveniences ; but nothing else can, as a general rule, supply the raw material for efiectual meditation, on which the improvement of our action will depend. Lastly, take into account this fact, that the intel- lect cannot, in any case, abstain from forming some opinion or other as to the general order of things, whether in the outer world or in the world of man. You are now aware that at all times this has been the object of every dogmatic system of religion ; and that it is now the object of such system, only with this diflference, that the knowledge of laws is henceforth to take the place of the search after causes. And surely illusory hypotheses as to causes could never seem to you equally intelligible with real notions upon laws. My exposition is mainly meant for women and proletaries. They cannot and they ought not to become teachers, neither do they vnsh. it. But all should master to a certain extent the spirit and the method of the Universal doctrine, other- wise they cannot enforce on their spiritual chiefs INTRODUCTION. 71 an adequate scientific and logical preparation, the necessary foundation for the systematic exercise of the priestly office. Now as this discipline of the intellect is at the present day entirely contrary to the habits resulting from our modern anarchy, it never could prevail, unless enforced by the general body of both sexes, on those who claim to be their guides in matters of opinion. And as the discipline depends on this condition socially, there will always attach a great value to the general spread of reli- gious instruction, over and above its proper object of guiding the conduct of men, whether as individuals or as societies. But the service rendered by reli- gious instruction, at all times important, is at the present day of capital importance. For we must look to it to bring to a decided close the anarchy of the Western world, the prominent characteristic of which is the revolt of the intellect against all legi- timate control. Could this Catechism but produce in women and proletaries the conviction, that those who claim to be their spiritual guides are radically incompetent to deal with the high questions, the solution of which is in blind confidence left them, it would largely help to calm the West. The conviction on this point should be unanimous. To produce it we must depend on a sufficient appre- ciation of the system of Positivism, the last of the series of religious systems. That appreciation must place beyond all liability to dispute the general conditions of its systematic cultivation. As for the difficulties which now frighten you in 72 INTRODUCTION. this indispensable study, you attach too little weight for overcoming them to your excellent moral dis- position. No existing school would hesitate to pro- nounce, ex cathedra, that the intellect thinks in complete independence of the heart. But women and proletaries have never lost sight of the powerful reaction of the feelings on the intellect — a reaction explained at last by Positive Philosophy. Your sex in particular, which, in the unconscious exercise of its gentle office, has handed down to us, as far as was possible in the midst of our modern anarchy, the admirable feelings of the Middle Ages, offers daily proof of the error of that metaphysical heresy which separates these two great attributes. The beautiful maxim of Vauvenargues is right ; the heart is necessary to the intellect for all its most impoi-tant inspirations. If so, it must also be of use in appreciating their results. Its powerful assistance is peculiarly needed in the case of moral and social conceptions ; for in them more than elsewhere the sympathetic instinct can furnish large aid to the spirit of synthesis. Without that aid its greatest efforts could not overcome the inherent difficulties of such questions. But the heart may also lend its aid in the case of the less important theories, by virtue of the necessary connexion that exists between all the speculations of man so far as they deal with realities. There are two fundamental conditions of religion — love and faith. Of these two, it is the first that takes precedence. Faith may be well adapted to DfTRODUCTIOX. 73 strengthen love ; but the inverse action, that of love on faith, is stronger and more direct. Not only does feeling direct our thoughts when left to their spon- taneous action in the stage preparatory to any systematic development, but it sanctions and pro- motes this development, when it has once felt its importance. No woman with any experience but is aware that too frequently our best affections offer but a weak security, when not aided by firm con- victions. The word " convince,''' if we look to its etymology, would remind us of the aptitude of deep-seated belief to strengthen our internal union by connecting it with the world without. Lastly, your fear lest your intellect should be too weak for the subject, rests on the general confusion of instruction with intelligence. You are familiar with and you admire the unrivalled Moliere ; yet this has not freed you from the vulgar error on this point — an error carefully kept up by our Trissotins of all professions. And yet we ought to blush at being in the present time behind the Middle Ages. Then, everybody saw clearly the profound intel- lectual eminence of persons who were quite un- lettered. Have you not sometimes found in such people much more real capacity than in most of our professors 1 Now more than ever instruction is only really necessary to construct and develop science. Science must always be so arranged, as a whole, that it may become directly within the reach of all sound intellects, otherwise our best doc- trines would soon degenerate into dangerous mystifi- 74 INTRODUCTION. cations. All tlieoricians are naturally inclined to this deviation. The only effectual check on them is in a due surveillance on the part of the large majority of both sexes. The Woman. — I feel encouraged by this intro- duction, my father, and I would ask you now to enter on a systematic exposition of Positive doc- trine. Would you begin by explaining more directly and fully that one doctrine on which it all rests % I already understand that the Great Being, in your conception, is, by its very nature, the expression of the whole order of things — not merely of the order of man, but of the external world. As this is the case, I feel to want a clearer and more precise definition as regards this Being, the fundamental idea which gives unity to Positivism. The Priest. — As a first step, my daughter, you must define Humanity as the ivhole of human beings, past, present, and future. The wordivhole points out clearly that you must not take in all men, but those only who are really capable of assimilation, in virtue of a real co-operation on their part in furthering the common good. All are necessarily born children of Hu- manity, but all do not become her servants. Many remain in the parasitic state, which, excusable during their education, becomes blameable when that education is complete. Times of anarchy bring forth in swarms such creatures — nay, even enable them to flourish — though they are, in sad truth, but burdens on the true Great Being. Often have you been reminded by them of the ener- INTRODUCTION. 75 getic reprobation of Ariosto, borrowed from Horace — Venuto al mundo sol per far letarne : "Bom upon the earth merely to manure it ;" and, still better, of the admirable condemnation of Dante — Che visser senza infamia e senza lodo * * * * Cacciarli i ciel per non esser men belli, Ke lo profondo inferno li riceve, Ch'alcuna gloria i rei avrebber d'eUi, * * * * Non ragioniam di lor, ma guarda e passa. Inferno, iii. 36 — 51. "Who lived Without or praise or blame Heaven drove them forth Not to impair his lustre ; nor the depth Of Hell receives them, lest the accursed tribe ShoTild glory thence with exultation vain. * * * * Speak not of them, but look and pass them by." Cart's Translation. So you see that in this respect, as in all others, the inspiration of the poet was far in advance of the systematic view of the philosopher. Be this as it may, these mere digesting machines are no real part of Humanity. You may reject them, and to make up for the loss associate with the new Supreme Being all the animals who lend a noble aid. Wherever we find habitual co-operation in forwarding the destinies of man, and that co-ope- 76 INTRODUCTION. ration given voluntarily, there the being which gives it becomes a real element of this compound existence ; and the degree of importance it attains is proportioned to the dignity of the species to which it belongs, and to its own individual value. To form a right estimate of this indispensable com- plement of human existence, let us imagine our- selves without it. We should then be led without hesitation to look on many horses, dogs, oxen, &c., as more estimable than certain men. Such is our primary conception of the combined system of human action. In it naturally oui- attention is directed on solidarity, rather than on continuity. This last idea must, however, in the end be the predominant one, though at first it attracts less notice, as it requires a deeper exami- nation to discover it ; for in a very short time the progress of society comes to depend more on the idea of time than on that of space. It is not a feeling confined to the present day, by which each man, as he exerts himself to estimate aright the amount of his obligations to others, acknowledges that his predecessors as a whole, in comparison with his contemporaries as a whole, have much the larger share in these obligations. We find the same superiority clearly allowed, though in a less degree, in the most remote periods. We see an indication of its recognition in the touching wor- ship at all times paid to the dead, as was beautifully remarked by Vico. We find, then, that the social existence of man INTRODUCTIOX. 77 really consists much more in the continuous suc- cession of generations than in the solidarity of the existing generation. The living are always, by the necessity of the case — and the more so the more we advance in time — under the government of the dead. Such is the fundamental law of human order. To enable us to grasp it more fully, let us dis- tinguish the two forms of existence which are the poi-tion of each true servant of Humanity. The one is but for a time, but it is conscious. This constitutes the life of man, properly so called. The other, with no direct consciousness on the part of man, is yet permanent, and does not begin till after death. The first involves the presence of the body, and may be termed objective, to mark more clearly its contrast >vith the second. That second leaves each one to exist only in the heart and in- tellect of othei^, and deserves the name of sub- jective. This is the noble immortality, necessarily disconnected with the body, which Positivism allows the human soul. It preserves this valuable term — soul — to stand for the whole of our intellectual and moral functions, without involving any allusion to some supposed entity answering to the name. Following out this high conception, the human race, in the true sense of the tenn, is composed of two bodies, both of which are essential. Their proportion is constantly varying ; and the tendency of this variation is to secure a greater influence for the dead over the living in every actual operation. 78 INTRODUCTION. The action and its result are most dependent on the objective element ; the impulse and the regulating power are principally due to the subjective. We have received large endowments from the liberality of our predecessors ; we hand on gratuitously to our successors the whole domain in which man lives and moves ; and the addition made in each successive generation becomes smaller and smaller in proportion to the amount received. Our exer- tions are necessarily gratuitous. They meet with an adequate reward in our subjective incorporation, by which we are enabled to perpetuate our services under an altered form. A theory such as this seems at the present day to be the last effort of the human intellect under systematic guidance. And yet we can trace the germ of it, anterior to all such guidance, in the most remote periods of our race's progress, and can see that it was felt even then by the most ancient poets. The smallest tribe, nay, even every family of any considerable size, soon comes to look on itself as the essential stock of Humanity. It con- siders itself the original source of that composite and progressive existence, the only limits to which, in time or in space, are the limits of its normal state, as fixed by the constitution of the planet it occupies. The Great Being is not yet fully formed; yet no jar of its component parts was ever able to keep out of sight its gradual progress towards formation. This, its evolution, rightly judged and rationally directed, is now the only possible basis of INTRODUCTION. 79 unity, wliicli is our final object. Even during the prevalence of tlie egoistic doctrine of Christianity — from which the stern St. Peter drew the charac- teristic maxim of the system, "As strangers and pil- grims'' — we see the admirable St. Paul even then led by his feeling to anticipate the conception of Humanity, in the figurative expression which touches us, whilst we see the contradiction it in- volves, " We are every one members one of another.'" The central principle of Positivism could alone dis- close the one stem to ^\hich, by the law of their beinsf, these members belonor. In the absence of such a conception, they seemed to have a confused existence. The Woman. — I feel compelled, my father, to admit this fundamental conception, though it is by no means as yet clear of difficulty ; but when I look on such an existence, the sense of my own nothingness alarms me. Before its immensity, I seem to be reduced to nothing, more completely than I was before the majesty of a God with whom, feeble as I am, I felt myself in some definite and direct relation. Now that you have completely mastered me by the ever-grov/ing preponderance of the new Supreme Being, I feel the need of your re- awakening in me a just consciousness of my indi- vidual existence. The Priest. — The desired result will follow, my daughter, from a more complete appreciation of the dogmatic system of Positivism. Humanity, as a whole, must ever constitute the principal motor of 80 INTRODUCTION. every operation we undertake, be it physical, in- tellectual, or moral. At the same time, we must never forget — and this is sufficient to meet your wishes — that the Great Being cannot act except through individual agents. This is the reason why the objective part of the race, though brought more and more into subordination to the subjective, must always be indispensable to the subjective for it to exert any influence. The objective element col- lectively shares in this agency. Analyse this col- lective action, and we arrive at the fact that it is the result of the free concurrence of the efforts of simple individuals. Each of these individuals, if worthy of his position, can assert himself in pre- sence of the new Supreme Being more than he could before its predecessor. In fact, God had no real need of any service on our part, except to give him vain praises, the childish eagerness for which tended to degrade him in our eyes. Remember the verse of the Imitation, in which this is put out of doubt : — I am necessary to thee, thou art useless to me. It is doubtless true that but few of us are war- ranted in thinking ourselves indispensable to Hu- manity. Such language is only applicable to those to whom are really due the principal steps in our progress. Still, every noble human being may, and should habitually, feel that his personal assistance in this immense work of the evolution of the race is of use ; for that work would be ended at once if INTRODUCTION. 81 all its individual co-operators were at any one time to disappear. The development, and of course also the preservation, of the Great Being must then depend, in any case, on the free services of its different children, though the inactivity of any one in particular is, generally speaking, not an irreparable evil. imi |ait EXPLANATJOX OF THE WORSHIP. CONVERSATION III. THE WORSHIP AS A WHOLE. The Woman. — In our second introductory con- versation, you have cleared up, my father, the diffi- culties I originally felt as to the conception of Humanity, the centre of the whole Positive system. You have, in fact, revealed to me the goddess ■whom I am, as a Positivist, to serve. You must now teach me to love her more, that I may serve her better. It is my hope that, in the end, I shall he found worthy to be incorporated into her. Thus accepting my position as a Positivist, even prior to any more detailed explanations of the doctrine, I naturally change my attitude, and our conferences assume more completely the character of real con- versations. I shall not in this part lay before you doubts on important points, requiring long explana- tions. I shall only interrupt you to clear up or set forth more fully points on which you do not suffi- ciently dwell. I even hope, in the case of the wor- ship, to take an active part, and assist you by an- THE AYORSHIP. 83 ticipating some of your explanations, so as to make your exposition more rapid, without detracting from its completeness. We are now entering on the domain of feeling, and in this domain the in- spiration of woman, though it keep its empirical character, can really aid the priesthood in its con- struction. The Priest. — I look with great hope, my daughter, to this spontaneous co-operation, as likely to shorten this part of our Catechism. But, in order to make as much use as possible of youi^ present disposition, this new conversation, which concerns merely the worship in general, must begin by a systematic account of the general plan of our religion, though you are already familiar with it. Combinations must in all cases be binary. This is true of physical combinations ; it is still more true of logical ones. This is pointed out clearly by the etymology of the word. This rule is applicable, necessarily, to any division whatever. In our funda- mental division of religion we obey the rule instinc- tively, by partitioning out the domain of religion between the two, love and faith. In every case where the evolution of the individual or of the society follows its normal course, love comes first and leads us to faith, so long as the growth is spon- taneous ; but when it becomes systematic, then the belief is constructed in order to regulate the action of love. At the point we have reached in our Catechism, you are in sufficient possession of the faith for me to proceed to strengthen and develope g2 84 FIRST PART. the love which always inspired you. This capital division of religion is equivalent to the general division between theory and practice, if rightly viewed. As we have sufficiently for our purpose studied the theoretic domain of Positive religion, we may pass on to its practical domain. Now, this practical domain necessarily breaks up into two, as a consequence of the natural distinction between feeling and action. The theoretical part of religion meets the want of the intellect, the only possible basis of belief ; but the practical part em- braces the whole remainder of our existence, quite as much our feelings as even our acts. Universal custom, prior to all theory — and such custom is the best rule of language — gives a direct sanction to this view ; for it applies the name religious prac- tices to our habits of worship, and ajDplies it quite as much, if not more, to them, as to those habits which more particularly concern the regime. There is here an apparent confusion, but it rests on a basis of profound though empirical wisdom. For it was a wise instinct by which the mass of men, and still more of women, early learnt, as the priesthood had learnt, that to improve our feelings is a more important and difficult task than the immediate im- provement of our actions. As love in Positive religion never becomes mystic. Positive worship in its normal condition is part of the practical domain of true religion. We love more, in order to serve better. But, on the other hand, from the true reli- o-ious point of view, our acts always may have an THE WORSHIP. 85 essentially altruistic character, since the main object of religion is to dispose us and to teach us to live for others. Our actions, then, are suggested by love, and, in their turn, they tend to develope love. In the case of our intellectual improvement, vv^hen it is rightly guided, this capability of our action is directly evident. It holds good also in the case of our material progress, provided that such progress proceed on right principles. You see, therefore, ]iow the regime, under its religious aspect, forms part of the domain of love as much as the worship does. These two principles, which make our worship practical, our regime affective, and yet never con- fuse the two, could not be discovered whilst religion remained in its theological stage, for then the worship and the regime were thoroughly heterogeneous. The one had God for its object ; the other, man. The worship stood higher than the regime, but it did so only because the second of the two beings was necessarily subordinate to the first. Both were essentially egoistic in character, the result of the very constitution, thoroughly and entirely individual in its tendencies, of a faith which never could be reconciled with the existence in our nature of the instincts of benevolence — an existence allowed by no religion but the Positive. Under the older faith, the division between the regime and the worship was as broad as that which separates the worship from the doctrine ; so that the general plan of reli- gion became unintelligible, the result of our just dislike to ternary combinations. 86 FIRST PART. In religion, in its final stage, on the contrary, the divisions are as favourable to the reason as to the feelings. The doctrine differs from the worship and the regime much more than these last do from one another. So the primary division is binary, whilst the ordinary constitution is ternary. This is attained simply by adding one subdivision as a complement to the first primary division, whereas previously such subdivision was absurdly placed on a level with it. These three parts together ulti- mately form a regularly progressive series, by ^drtue of the natural homogeneity of its different elements. In this series we pass from love to faith, or from faith to love, according as *we take the subjective or the objective course, respectively appropriate to the two most important ages of our religious initia- tion, the one of which is under the direction of woman, the other under that of the priest. But whichever of these two directions we take — and both are equally in use — the worship always holds the same place, as the result of the doctrine, or the source of the regime. This alone is suflEicient to explain its capacity of standing, in daily life, as the representative of the whole of religion. The Woman. — My very natural eagerness to enter at once on the direct study of our worship made me wish at the outset to leave out, my father, the general preamble you have just set before me. I now feel how necessary it was in order to gain a clear conception of the plan of religion. I had not previously co-ordinated its three parts. This valuable THE WORSHIP. 87 explanation, however, seems to me now so far com- plete that I hope to study immediately the general system of the worship due to our divinity. The Priest. — We adore her, not as his worshippers adored God, with vain compliments, my daughter, but in order to serve her better by bettering our- selves. It is important to remember that this is the normal object of Positive worship ; it is im- portant, in order to anticipate, or correct in it, the tendency to degenerate into mysticism. We are liable to this whenever we pay too exclusive atten- tion to the feelings, as we are then disposed to neg- lect, or even to forget, the acts which those feelings should control. I am naturally more prone than you to such an error, by my greater tendency to system. The evil results on your practice would soon become clear to you by your own native good sense; nay, you would even know how to remedy them by a fortunate inconsistency in your theory. It is of particular importance for me to avoid this mistake in the present conversation, for by its more abstract and more general character it renders me more liable to it, and the consequences would be more serious. You would bring me back at last, I doubt not, into the right path, by the suggestions of your experience j but it would often be too late, so that I should have sometimes to make laborious efforts to repair the consequences of my error. Keeping this precaution constantly in view, let us look on the whole worship as having for its object to form a systematic connexion between the doc- 88 FIRST PART. trine and the regime, by idealizing both the one and the other. As the result of the doctrine, the wor- ship completes that doctrine, and expresses it in a short form. It places before us, in a more familiar and more imposing point of view, the conception of Humanity, by means of an ideal representation of it. The worship also typifies the life, and so must have a dii-ect tendency to ameliorate our feelings. For this, it must never lose sight of the modifications they habitually undergo in the three different con- ditions of human life — the personal, domestic, and social. At first sight, these two ways of forming a general conception of the worship and of instituting it may seem irreconcileable ; yet they are naturally in agreement, and such agreement is the result of the aptitude inherent in any worthy idealization of the Great Being to consolidate and develope the love which is the basis of its whole existence. If so, the original difference has in no way a tendency to break up the worship into two separate domains — one belonging exclusively to the intellect, the other to feeling. Such a division would be, as a general rule, as impracticable as the distinction generally drawn between algebra and arithmetic. They can really be separated only in very few cases, and these mostly of our own making ; and yet the two methods, though constantly mixed, are never con- fused. This comparison gives a right idea of the closeness of the connexion which naturally binds together the two aspects, intellectual and moral, or theoretical and practical, under which we are justi- THE WORSHIP. 89 fied in viewing either the whole system of Positive worship, or each of its parts. Still, in spite of the fact that such a connexion is the spontaneous result of the religious system, which both are concerned with, to combine them wisely is really the chief difficulty to be met in instituting our worship. For this worship, quite as much, nay, even more than the doctrine, is liable to degenerate into mysticism or mere empiricism, according as generalization and abstraction respectively are carried to excess or are deficient. These two contrary tendencies to error produce, in the moral point of view, equal evils ; for the social efficiency of man's feelings is equally im- paired by their becoming too refined or too coarse. The Woman. — To enable me better to estimate this general difficulty, I may, may I not, my father, state it in another and less general form, as the difficulty of rightly instituting the subjective life. For it is on this subjective life that rests, of neces- sity, the whole system of Positive worship, whether we view it intellectually or morally. In the com- position of oui' Great Being the dead occupy the first place, then those who are yet to be born. The two together are far more numerous than the living, most of whom too are only its servants, without the power at present of becoming its organs. There are but few men, and still fewer women, who admit of being satisfactorily judged in this respect before the completion of their objective career. During the greater part of his actual life, each one has it in his power to balance, and even 90 FIRST PART. far to outbalance, the good he has done by the evil he may do. So the human population is made up in the main of two kinds of subjective elements; the one determinate, the other indefi- nite. These are brought into immediate and close connexion solely by the objective element of that population, the proportion of which to the others is constantly becoming indefinitely small. If so, I conceive that, in order to present to us the true Great Being, Positive worship must freely develops in each of us our subjective life. By so doing it will further become eminently poetic in character. At the same time, the exertion of our poetical powers, where thought works chiefly by the aid of imagery, has a natural fitness for the direct cultivation of our best feelings. It seems to me, then, quite possible to reconcile the intellectual condition with the moral object of this worship, on the principle which you have just given me ; but in the means you declare necessary to attain that object I seem to see a new general difficulty. For I find it difficult to conceive how it will be possible to institute, still more how it will be possible to secure in universal practice, the daily realization of the subjective life — its realization in the individual and in the society ; and yet, to make it an universal practice is indispensable for our religion. I allow, of course, that in this respect, the entire regeneration of education will procure us immense resources, to an extent difficult to esti- mate at the present time. Nevertheless, I fear that THE WORSHIP. 91 these resources will always leave us unable to sur- mount this difficulty ; and when I look at the Past, I seem to gain no direct ground for hope, as far as the great body of men is concerned. The Priest. — On the contrary, my daughter, I hope soon to set you free from your uneasiness on this point, natural though it be ; and I rely on a judicious survey of the Past — the long initiation of our race, now finally ended, as is clearly shown by the very fact of my drawing up this Catechism. Judge the past rightly, and it is impossible not to see the natural capacity of our species for living a subjective life. For in the past we see such a life, under different forms, prevail during forty centuries. All who are emancipated from the older belief now know, that during this long pro- bation, the minds of men habitually recognised the sway of purely imaginary beings — we see them to be imaginary, their worshippers believed in their real and distinct existence. Nor is this the judg- ment only of those who are emancipated. The partisans of the difi'erent forms of theological belief have nearly the same conviction in this respect ; for they each judge all but their own on this principle. And yet the supporters of the other forms, put together, always outnumber, by an immense ma- jority, the supporters of any one form, especially in the present day, when no form of supernatural belief is common to large masses. Each one thinks illusion the rule, his own fiction the solitary exception. So prone are we to this subjective life, that we 92 FIRST PART. find it more prevalent the nearer we ascend to the naive age of a purely spontaneous belief, in the in- dividual or in the society. The greatest efibrt our reason is required to make, is in the opposite di- rection. It is to bring the subjective into sufficient subordination to the objective ; it is to enable our minds, in their inner workings, to represent the external world with the clearness required by the position we occupy. For the external world claims an unvarying predominance over us, whether for action or impression. This, the normal result, is only attained, in the individual as in the species, in the period of our complete maturity. It con- stitutes the best sign of that maturity. The tendency of this transformation is to a radical chano'e in the conduct of the human understand in o;. But no such change will ever prevent our developing the subjective life, even beyond the needs of Posi- tive worship. We shall always require a certain amount of discipline to keep within due limits our natural disposition to substitute too completely the inward for the outward. You need feel, then, on this head no serious uneasiness, unless you judge man as he will be, by the present tendency of special scientific pursuits to crush the imagination and to wither the heart. This, however, is really only one of the natural symptoms of modern anarchy. The only essential difierence between subjectivity in its later and in its primitive shape is this. In its later shape we must be fully conscious of it, and openly avow it^ no one ever confusing it with THE WORSHIP. 93 objectivity. Our religious contemplations will con- sciously be carried on internally. Our predecessors, on the contrary, vainly endeavoured to see without them what had no existence but within. Of course it was understood that they might fall back on a future life for the ultimate realization of their visions. This general contrast between the two may be summed up by a statement of the different ways of conceiving the principal subdivision of the intellect. In the normal state of existence contem- plation, even when inward, is easier and less eminent than meditation; for in contemplation our intel- lect continues nearly passive. In one word, we contemplate in order to meditate, because our studies mainly regard the external world. On the contrary, with men in the theological state, medita- tion must always seem less difficult and far more common than contemplation. In this last, therefore, they placed the highest effort of our understanding. They only meditated in order to contemplate, and to contemplate beings which were always eluding their grasp. A familiar sign will soon mark this distinction as regards the greater part of private worship. The Positivist shuts his eyes during his private prayers, the better to see the internal image; the believer in theology opened his, to enable him to perceive outside an object w^hich was an illusion. 21ie Woman. — This explanation has set me quite at ease where I was uneasy. Yet I continue, my father, to look on the institution of the subjective 94 FIRST PART. life as the capital difficulty in Positive worship. The new subjectivity appears to me, it is true, always to admit of being reconciled with the thoroughly real character which is the distinction of our faith. But allowing this agreement, it seems to me, it must always require special efforts. The Priest. — You have a right idea, my daughter, as to the essential condition which I must now fulfil. To compare the worship and the regime, the best way is to assign each its respective domain : to the one, the subjective, to the other, the objec- tive life. True, they are simultaneously connected with both ; yet the subjective e\ddently is most important in the worship, the objective in the regime. No better characteristic of the higher dignity of the worship could be selected. Such superiority is the necessary consequence of the pre- ponderance of subjectivity over objectivity through- out the whole of man's existence, as seen even in the individual, but still more clearly in so- ciety. The Woman. — Your systematic sanction of the conclusion to which T had been led by the na- tural process of my own thought induces me, my father, now to ask you what is the true theory of the subjective life. It is impossible here to do more than give an outline of such a doctrine ; but it seems to me that to state the principle on which it rests is indispensable. No Positivist can do with- out a general exjolanation of this point ; for his worship, public or private, will require it almost THE WORSHIP. 95 for everyday use, as a preventive against any de- generation into mysticism or empiricism. The Priest. — Your legitimate desire must be satisfied, my daughter. Conceive then the funda- mental law of the subjective life to be, the due sub- ordination of that life to the objective. The world within is essentially at all times under the regu- lating power of the world without, from which also it draws its nourishment and stimulus. This is true of the life of the brain, as much as of our more strictly bodily life. Let our conceptions be as fantastical as they may, they must always bear the stamp of the rule of the outer world ; a rule not self-chosen, and one which becomes less simple, as well as less complete, in proportion as it becomes more indirect. All this is but the necessary con- sequence of the indisputable principle on which I rested our whole theory of the intellect, the dy- namical as well as statical theory, thus brought into connexion with the fundamental system of biological conceptions. The order which man produces can never be any- thing but the improvement of the order of nature. And the improvement mainly consists in develop- ment. So we are led to feel here, as everywhere else, and even more here than elsewhere, that the true liberty of man is essentially the result of due submission. But in order properly to apply to the subjective life this general rule of the objective, we must begin by examining, under this fresh aspect, the constitution of the whole order of nature. For 96 FIRST PART. the laws which combine to form it are far from being equally applicable to the subjective life. To make your ideas more definite, I will specify but one case, the simplest and the most common — viz., when in our subjective worship we wish to call back into existence one whom we have loved. Were I not to specify some such case, in which the heart aids the intellect, it would be easy to go astray in the study of such a domain! But all the ideas formed in this way, in a case taken fi'om our most private worship, and quite within our range, will be easily applied, with the suitable modifications, to the rest of sociolatry. The Woman. — I feel grateful to you, my father, for your consideration, w^hich I feel to be indis- pensable for me. The doctrine is no less novel than difiicult ; for the problem could not be stated even, so long as belief in a supernatural power prevailed. Such a belief forbade us to represent to ourselves the dead otherwise than in a mysterious condition, generally left utterly vague. This state allowed of no analogy on essential points between us and them. Supposing us free from all uneasiness as to their ultimate fate, we were never allowed to form for them a subjective life. To do so was an act of impiety, for it gave the creature the affection due to the Creator. But if the power to state this afiecting question is, by the necessity of the case, peculiar to Positivism, not less peculiar to that system is the general answer, as the only system which has revealed the true laws of man's intellect. I can THE WORSHIP. 97 then form a conception at once of the general method of subjective worship, and of its normal basis, which makes this ideal existence the simple continuation of our real life. But would you explain to me directly the modifications of which our life, so continued, is susceptible? The Priest. — These modifications consist, my daughter, in the suppression, or at least in the neglect of, all the lower laws, in order to give greater predominance to the higher ones. During the objective life, the dominion exercised by the outer world over the world of man is as direct as it is unbroken. But in the subjective life the out- ward order becomes simply passive. It ceases to have any but the indirect influence attaching to it as the original source of the ideas we w-ish to cherish. The dead we love are no longer under the dominion of the rigorous laws of the material world, nor even under the general laws of life. On the contrary, the laws peculiar to man's existence, particularly to his moral existence, though not excluding his social, govern, with a firmer government than during life, the existence which the dead retain in our brain. This existence is by its very nature merely an intel- lectual and affective existence. It is essentially ideal ; and the ideas it raises bring back the feelings with which the being we have lost inspired us, and the thoughts to which he gave rise. Our subjective worship aims, then, at nothing more than a species of internal evolution, the gradual result of our exercise of the brain according to the appropriate 98 FIRST PART. laws. The image we form always remains less clear and less lively than the object it is to represent, in obedience to the fundamental law of our intellect. But since the contrary is often the case in diseases of the brain, a successful cultivation of ourselves may bring us, in our normal state, nearer to the necessary limit, far nearer than could possibly be believed hitherto, whilst this beautiful domain remained vague and dark. With a view to getting a more exact conception of this general subordination, observe that the sub- jective evocation of the loved object should always be connected with our last objective impressions of him. This is most evident as to age, for death prevents any increase of that. If, then, we lose our friends prematurely, the effect is to invest them with eternal youth. This law, binding on the original adorer, must of necessity be obeyed by his most distant adherents. No one will ever be able to represent to himself Beatrice, the gentle patroness of Dante, otherwise than as Dante did, as twenty- five years old. We may think of her as younger, we cannot imagine her older. The objective and the subjective life, then, differ fundamentally in this : — The first is under the direct control of physical laws ; the second under that of moral laws. The laws of the intellect are equally applicable to both. This distinction loses something of its marked character, when we see that, in both cases, the more general order always comes before the more special. For so the difference is THE WORSHIP. 99 limited simply to the mode in which we estimate generality; we estimate it first in reference to phenomena, in the second case in reference to our conceptions. This remark will be explained when we come to the doctrine. Be this as it may, the necessary preponderance of moral laws, in the case of the subjective life, is in perfect conformity with our nature. So much so, that not only was it involuntarily respected, but it was known and appreciated, at the earliest stage of man's intellectual growth. You know that, as a fact, the great moral laws had been stated, though empirically, in their leading features at least, long previous to any real recognition of the lowest physical laws. At a time when poets, in their fictions, set aside without scruple the general con- ditions of the order of the outer world, and even those of life, they observed with admirable exact- ness the leading ideas of social, and still more moral order. Men found no difficulty in admitting the existence of invulnerable heroes and of gods who took any shape at pleasure. But the instinct of the great mass, as well as the genius of the poet, would at once have rejected any moral incoherence — if, for example, a writer had ventured on attributing to a miser or a coward liberality or courage. Tlie Woman. — By the light of your explanations I see, my father, that, in our subjective worship, we may neglect physical laws, whilst we cling more closely to moral laws ; for it is on the real knowledge of these last that the new order of institu- h2 100 FIRST PART. tions must depend for its advance. The imagination easily frees itself from ttie most general conditions, even those of space and time, provided that the requirements of moral feeling are always respected. But I should wish to know how we are to use the liberty thus given us to facilitate our attainment of the main end of subjective worship — I mean, our mental evocation, by the agency of the brain, of the objects of our affections. The Priest. — So stated, my daughter, your ques- tion is easily answered. It is a self-evident pro- position, that the better to concentrate our strength on this holy object, we must divert none of it on superfluous modifications of the order of life, nor even of the order of matter. Be careful then that no change take place in the outer circumstances. The person you adore should in this respect be as he was in life. Use them even to reani- mate more effectually his image. You will find, on this point, in my System of Positive Politics, an important observation : — " Our recollection of our friends becomes at once clearer and more lasting, if we fix with precision the material environment, before we place in it the living image." I would even advise you, as a general rule, to break up this arrangement of the outward circumstance into its three essential parts, always proceeding from without inwards, according to the principle of our hierarchy. This rule of worship is obeyed, by first getting a precise idea of the place, next of the seat or the attitude, and lastly of the dress, appropriate to THE WORSHIP. 101 each particular case. Our heart may feel impatient at the delay thus caused ; hut we soon come to feel its efficacy when we see the loved image gradually acquire by these means a vividness and a clearness which at first seemed impossible. These operations are essentially within the pro- vince of esthetics. They become easier to under- stand if we place them by the side of the operations of science, as we may do by virtue of the necessary identity of the chief laws of both. In strict truth, science, when it points out beforehand a future often distant, ventures on a still bolder effort than art does, when it would call up some cherished memory. Our brilliant success in the former case, though there the intellect derives much less aid from the heart, authorizes us to hope for more satisfactory results in the other, where alone we have the certainty of arriving at some solution or other. This certainty rests, to say the truth, entirely on the knowledge of the laws of the brain, of which our conceptions are still very confused. Our astronomical previsions, on the other hand, depend more than anything on the simplest and best known of external laws. But whilst this distinction is adequate to explain the inequality of our success in the two cases, it shows us that such inequality is simply provisional. When the higher laws shall be sufficiently known, the Positive priesthood Avill draw from them results more precious, and susceptible of greater regularity, than those of astronomy, even when most successful. For astronomy becomes uncertain in its previsions, 102 FIRST PART. and even fails altogether, as soon as the questions become very complicated. This is generally the case with comets. We need not jnstly incur any charge of chimerical presumption when we say that the providence of man can, and ought to, secure more complete regularity in the order which is most amenable to its action, than can prevail, as regards the majority of events, in the order which obeys simply a blind fatality. The greater compli- cation of the phenomena will ultimately be over- come, in these high cases, by the powerful sagacity of man, the modifying agent. All that we need is a sufficient knowledge of the order of man's world. The Woman. — I feel, my father, that to subordi- nate the subjective to the objective, is at once the constant obligation and the most important resource of Positive worship. You have made me quite understand that, far from wishing to withdraw our- selves from this necessary yoke, we ought freely to accept it, even when we might neglect it. For such a complete submission makes our subjective life much easier, at the same time that it economizes all our most valuable strength. But here I stop. I do not see, from this point onwards, in what properly consists our action in this internal exis- tence ; and yet this existence ought, it seems to me, in its own way to be less passive even than our external one. The Priest. — Our action consists, my daughter, in idealizing. This is almost always to be done by THE WORSHIP. 103 subtraction, rarely by addition, even when, in add- ing, we observe all proper precautions. The ideal must be an amelioration of the real, or it is inade- quate for its moral purpose. This amelioration is, for the ideal, the true normal compensation of its inferiority to the actual in clearness and liveliness. But the ideal must be subordinate to the real, othersvise the representation would be untrue, and the worship would become mystical. A too servile adherence to reality, again, would leave it empirical. Our iiile avoids equally these two contrary devia- tions. We find a natural indication of its sound- ness in our tendency to forget the defects of the dead, whilst we only recall their good qualities. From this point of view, I would have you see in the rule nothing more than a particular deduction from the dogmatic conception of Humanity. Our Divinity only incorporates into herself the dead who are really meritorious. But in doing so, she puts away from each the imperfections which in all cases dimmed their objective life. Dante had, in his own manner, an anticipation of this law when he formed that beautiful fiction, which makes the preparation for blessedness consist in drinking first of the river of oblivion, then of Eunoe, which calls up only the memory of good. In ameliorating, then, those whom you choose as rej^resentatives of Humanity, add but very secondary improvements, not such as impair the real impression even of their outward form, much less that of their moral cha- racter. But give free scope, always of course with 104 FIRST PART. prudence, to your natural disposition to clear them of their different faults. The Wo'iiian. — In the true theory then, my father, of the subjective life, our worshijo ultimately leaves the order of the outer world such as it actu- ally is, with the view of concentrating with greater effect on man's world our chief efforts for improve- ment. The noble existence which thus perpetuates us in others is the worthy continuation of the one by which we deserved immortality; the moral pro- gress of the individual and the race is ever the most important destination of both lives. The dead with us are set free from all necessity to obey the laws of matter or the laws of life. We remember that they were once subject to them, but we do so only that we may be better able to recall them such as we knew them. But they do not cease to love, and even to think, in us and by us. The sweet exchange of feelings and ideas that passed between us and them, during their objective life, becomes closer and more continuous when they are set free from their bodily existence. And yet although, under these conditions, their life is deeply mixed up with our own, they preserve unimpaired their originality — their own distinct moral and mental character, supposing that they ever had a really distinct character. We may even say that their more prominent characteristics become more marked, in proportion as this close intercourse becomes more free. This Positive conception of the future life is cer- THE WORSHIP. 105 tainly nobler than that of any theological school, at the same time that it alone is trne. When I was a Catholic, in the period of my most fervent belief, I could not help being deeply shocked on studying the childish conception of blessedness which, we find in a father of such high moral and intellectual eminence as St. Augustin. I was almost angry w^hen I found him hoping some day to be free from the laws of weight, and even from the need of taking food. By a gi'oss contradiction, he kept the power of eating what he liked, without any fear, it would seem, of becoming inordinately fat. The contrast is well adapted to make us feel how greatly Posi- tivism improves immortality, at the same time that it places it on a firmer footing, when it changes it from objective to subjective. Still, clear as the superiority is, I cannot but regret, in the old w^or- ship, its great institution — prayer. Prayer does not seem to me to be compatible with the new faith. The Priest. — Were there really such an omission, my daughter, it would be extremely serious; for the regular practice of prayer, private or public, is the capital condition of any worship whatever. Far from failing to fulfil this condition, Positivism satisfies it better than Catholicism ; for it purifies the institution of prayer, at the same time that it developes it. Your mistake on this point is the result of the low notion generally formed of prayer. We make it consist in asking for something — too often in asking for the supply of our bodily wants, 106 FIRST PART. in accordance with the profoundly egoistic character of every form of theological worship. For us, on the contrary, prayer is the ideal of life ; for to pray is at one and the same time to love, to think, and even to act, since expression is always, in the true sense of the word, an action, Never can the three aspects of human life be united with so intimate an union as in our admirable effusions of gratitude and love towards our great Divinity, or her worthy representatives and organs. No interested motive is any longer allowed to stain the purity of our prayers. Still, as the practice of daily prayer greatly im- proves the heart, and even the intellect, we are warranted in keeping in sight this valuable result. Nor need we fear that the intrusion in this degree of our personality will ever degrade us. The Posi- tivist prays in order to give expression to his best affections. This is his main object. He may also ask, but he asks only for a noble progress, which he ensures almost by the very asking. The fervent wish to become more tender, more reverential, more courageous even, is itself in some degree a realiza- tion of the desired improvement. At least it con- tains the first step to any improvement — the sincere confession of our actual imperfection. This holy influeuce of prayer may extend to the intellect, were it only by urging us to new efforts to improve our thought. On the contrary, to ask for an increase of riches or power would, in our worship, be as absurd as it is ignoble. We do not envy the THE WORSHIP. 107 believers in theology the unlimited command over the external world which they hope to obtain by prayer. Ail our subjective efforts are limited to perfect, as far as is possible, the world of man, which is nobler and also more susceptible of modifi- cation. In a word, Positivist prayer takes com- plete possession of the highest domain of all, that once set apart for supernatural grace. The Positive idea of sanctification systematizes moral progress. Previously such progress had been looked on as rejecting any idea of law, although its pre-eminence was quite acknowledged. The Woman. — I accept your explanation as deci- sive; and I now beg you, my father, to point out to me the general course to be adopted in regard to Positivist prayer. Tfte Priest. — For that purpose you must divide it, my daughter, into two separate and successive parts — the one passive, the other active. They concern respectively the past and the future, with the pre- sent for connecting link. Our worship miLst always be the expression of love, springing from and deve- loping gratitude to the past, a gratitude ever on the increase. All prayer, then, private or public, ought to begin by commemoration as a prepara- tion for effusion, this last occupying half the time the former occupies. When a happy combination of signs and ideas has sufficiently rekindled the warmth of our feelings towards the object of our adoration, we then pour them forth with real fer- vour. Such fervour has a tendencv still further to 108 FIRST PART. strengthen the feelings, and so to make us more ready for the evocation with which we conclude. The Woman. — Satisfied with these hints, I would ask you, my father, to complete your general view of our worship, by directly explaining to me, in its more important features, its influence on our im- provement. I feel that I understand it thoroughly ; yet I could not define it so as to state it to others in a shape to secure a fair judgment. This is why I ask you, on this point, for a systematic explana- tion, as a guide for me — first, in my own practice ; next, in my efibrts to convert others. The Priest. — Our worship improves the heart and tlie intellect simultaneously; yet it is important, my daughter, to separate in our view its reaction on our moral state, and its influence on our intel- lect. Its result, in the first case, is an immediate con- sequence of the first law of animal life ; for worship is always a real exercise^ and more truly so than anything else. This is pointed out by ordinary language, here, as elsewhere, the faithful picture of human existence. Above all does such a view of it admit of no dispute when prayer is complete — that is to say, when it is oral as well as mental. We actually bring into play in expression, whether by sounds, or by gestures, or attitudes, the same muscles that we do in action. So every expression of right feelings has a tendency to strengthen them and develope them, in the same way as the acts to which they lead would do, if we performed them. THE WORSHIP. 109 I am bound, however, on this point, to guard against a dangerous exaggeration, and I do so by urging you never to confuse these two great moral influences — the influence of our expressions, and the influence of our actions. It is true that the laws which govern them both are essentially similar ; but in no case can they, therefore, be looked on as of equal value. It is the result of universal expe- rience, fully confirmed by our cerebral theory, that action will always have more efiect than prayer, not merely on the external result, but also on the amelioration of our nature. Still, second to the practice of good actions, nothing is better adapted to strengthen and develope our best sentiments than their due expression, supposing it become as habitual as it ought to be. Now, this general means of amelioration is ordinarily more within our reach than action ; for acting often requires materials or circumstances beyond our reach, so as at times to confine us to the mere barren wish. By virtue of their being thus accessible, the practices of our worship come to be, for our moral progress, a valuable supplement to our active life ; and there is no difficulty in reconciling the two, such is the perfect homogeneity of Positive religion. The Woman. — I now understand the moral influ- ence of our worship. I need, my father, more full explanations as to its influence on our intellect. I am by no means so clear as to this. The Priest. — You must keep distinct, my daughter, its two main cases— the one, in which its efficiency 110 FIRST PART. is limited to the sphere of art ; the other, in which it passes into that of science. From the first point of view, the power of Posi- tive worship on the mind is direct and striking — first, as regards the most general art ; next, as it regards the two special arts, those of sound or form. Poetry is the soul of our worship, as science is of the doctrine, and industry of the regime. Every prayer, private as well as public, becomes in Posi- tivism a real work of art, inasmuch as it is the expression of our best feelings. In prayer, nothing can free us from the obligation of constantly form- ing our prayers ourselves ; so that every Positivist must be, in some resj^ects, as it were, a poet — at least, for his own private worship. We must use fixed forms of prayer, in order to secure more regu- larity; but these forms must originally, in all cases, be drawn up by him who uses them, or he will find that they have no gi-eat efficiency. However, though the form remains the same, the prayer admits of some degree of variety, as it is the artificial signs only that are fixed. Their uniformity only brings into a stronger light the spontaneous variations of natural language. Such language, whether musical or mimic, is always more esthetical than the other. This poetical faculty of originating our prayers will be largely developed when the regeneration of education shall have sufficiently trained all Posi- tivists in the views it requires, and even in such compositions. This I will point out to you in the Third Part of this Catechism. When we have THE WORSHIP. Ill reached that point, the general art will always derive suitable assistance from the special arts. All will then be familiar with singing, which is essentially the basis of music. All will be familiar also with drawing, the genei^al source of the three arts of form — painting, sculpture, and architecture. Lastly, when we draw out our form of worship, we may generally introduce special ornaments, chosen with judgment from the accumulated stores of human art, the esthetic treasures of Humanity. Additions of this kind seem, at first sight, limited to public worship; but private worship is equally open to them, and equally benefited by them, provided it borrows with discretion and moderation. All true poets have, at all times, given expression to the leading feelings of our nature. As that nature remains the same, their productions are always in sufficient consonance with our own emotions. When the agreement, without being entirely complete, is nearly so, we may borrow from the poets, and find in what we borrow more than the merely intellec- tual merit of a more perfect expression — we find, what is far more, the moral charm of a personal sympathy. The older the source from which we borrow our ornaments, the more suitable they are ; for they lend a sanction to our afiections, seen thus to be in spontaneous harmony, not merely with those of the gi'eat poet, but also with those of all the generations which, in succession, that poet has aided in the expression of their feelings. To secure, how- ever, the full efficiency of this valuable aid, it must 112 FIRST PART. never assume any other than a secondary place. It must remain an addition, though the degree in which it may be admitted must vary as the cases vary, as I will shortly point out to you. The Wojiian. — Before you explain to me the influence of the Positive worship on our intellect, would you, my father, clear up a serious difficulty, naturally arising from the preceding exposition. Worship and poetry seem, in our religion, to melt so entirely one into the other, that the simultaneous growth of the two would appear to require a priestly class quite distinct from that which is to develope and teach the doctrine. I feel that this separation would have a very dangerous tendency. The rivalry of the two bodies would be very difficult to deal with. They would compete for the ultimate direc- tion of the regiine, and their claim would be equal. So serious does such a conflict seem, that you can- not avoid meeting the difficulty. If you did, you would compromise the very organization of our priesthood ; for a divided priesthood would be in- capable of presiding over private life, and still more over public life. But then, again, I do not see how we can completely avoid it, as the cultivation of the poetical faculty and the training of the philosophical seem to require a treatment wholly different. The Priest. — Your error, my daughter, is one which it is important to correct. One of the lead- ing features of our modern anarchy is the general tendency to a dispersive, special action. It is a lamentable waste of strength. Such special action THE WORSHIP. 113 is as absurd as it is immoral. In the normal state, it is only in the sphere of practice that you have special results. There it is necessary, as no one can do everything. But as each one must embrace the v/hole range of conception, the cultivation of the intellect must, on the contrary, always remain in- divisible. In the sphere of theory there must be no specialty. If there is, we have in such division the first sign of anarchy. So thought the ancients under the theocratic regime, the only instance, as yet, of a complete organization. The separation of the poet from the priest was the sign of the decay of theocracy. Though the genius for philosophy and the genius for poetry cannot ever, at one and the same time, find a high destination, intellectually they are iden- tical in nature. Aristotle might have been a great jioefc, Dante an eminent philosopher, had the time in which they lived been such as to call for less scientific power in the one, or less esthetic power in the other. All these scholastic distinctions were in- vented and maintained by pedants, who, themselves entirely destitute of genius, could not even appre- ciate it in others. Whatever the career it chooses, mental superiority is always the same in kind. The choice of each is fixed for him by his position, espe- cially his position in time ; for the race always exerts a commanding influence over the individual. The only real difl'erence that exists in this re- spect is this, that the services of philosophy are na- turally uninterrupted, whereas the services rendered I 114 FIRST PART. by poets are necessarily intermittent. None but great poets are of use, even for the intellect, but still more from the moral point of view. All other poets do much more harm than good ; whereas quite second- rate philosophers can be made of real use, supposing them to have honesty, good sense and courage. Art is meant to develope in us the feeling of perfec- tion; so it cannot tolerate mediocrity. True taste implies lively distaste. From Homer to Walter Scott, we have, in the Western world, only thii^teen poets really great, two in ancient times, eleven in modern. In this number I include three prose writers. Of all the rest there are not more than seven you could name as fit for daily reading. The others will, without doubt, be completely thrown aside, as being equally hurtful to the intellect and the heart, when the regeneration of education shall have allowed us to extract whatever useful materials they contain, especially for the purposes of history. Sociocracy, less even than theocracy, requii^es a fixed class exclusively devoted to the cultivation of poetry. The priests, whose habitual character is the philosophical, will become, for the time, poets, when our Divinity shall stand in need of fresh efiu- sions for general use, sufficient for the wants of several ages, both in public and jDrivate worship. Compositions of secondary importance, which na- turally are more frequent, will be generally left to the spontaneous impulses of women or proletaries. As for the two special arts, the long apprenticeship they require, particularly the art of forni; will com- THE WORSHIP. 115 pel lis to devote to them some select masters. The choice will not be difficult, for the directing priest- hood will have ample opportunities in the natural course of Positive education. These masters will become actual members of the priesthood, or will merely receive pay from it, according as, by their nature, they are more or less synthetical. The Woman. — After these remarks, you may pass at once, my father, to your last general explanation of the efficiency of the worship. Its adaptation to esthetic purposes seems to me evident ; but I do not see in what lies its influence on the intellect. The Priest. — In this, my daughter, that it deve- lopes more fully, in all its parts, the universal logic. This logic always rests on a combination of signs, images, and feeling, as assisting the mind in its work- ing. The logic of feeling acts more directly and ener- getically than any other, but its method is deficient in precision and pliancy. Artificial signs are very accommodating, and can be increased at need. By these two properties they make up for their inferi- ority in logical power, the result of the weakness and indirectness of their connexion with our thoughts. The aggregate of intellectual aids which the two form must receive its complement from images. These alone can form it into a whole. They do so by their nature as an intermedium. Now it is especially in reference to this normal bond of true logic that the worship is efficacious, though it also developes its two other constituents. In this re- spect, the child who prays rightly is exercising i2 116 FIRST PART. more healthily his meditative organs than the haughty algebrist who, from a deficiency of tender- ness and imagination, is really only cultivating the organ of language by the aid of a ])articular jargon, which, rightly used, is of very limited application. You may get a clear glimpse by this of the most important intellectual result of Positive worship. It is thus seen to touch only the method properly so called j to have very little to do with the doctrine. We except, of course, the moral, nay, even the in- tellectual notions, naturally arising from our reli- gious practices. But the method will always have more value than the doctrine, as feelings have more value than acts, morals than politics. The scien- tific labours hitherto accumulated have, to speak generally, for the most part, merely a logical value. What they teach is often useless, at times even worse than useless. This provisional contrast between the method and doctrine will necessarily not be so strong when our encyclopedic discipline shall have delivered us from all the rubbish of the schools. Yet the true logic will always stand higher than science properly so called. This will be most true, of course, for the great mass, but in a degree also for the priesthood. The Woman. — All that remains, my father, is to ask you what is the specicil object of the two other conversations you promised me on the Positive worship. However much 1 may feel that we have not tlioroughly explored its fair domain, I do not see to what point we are now to direct our efforts. The Priest. — You wdll see this, my daughter, if THE WORSHIP. 117 you consider that our worship must be, if it is to succeed at all, first private, then public. These two will be respectively treated in the two following conversations. But first, you must attend to a general point — you must bring your judgment to bear directly on the important subordination of the public worship to the private. For on this subor- dination really depends, after all, the chief efficacy of Positive religion. The better to understand it, look on these two branches of worship as addressed respectively, the private to Woman, the public to Humanity. You will then feel that our Dignity can be sincerely honoured by those only who have prepared them- selves for her august worship by the practice of private prayer. That prayer consists in a noble homage daily paid to her best organs. These organs are for the most part subjective, but not to the exclusion of the objective. In a word, the true Church has for its original basis the simple Family. This is even more true in reference to the moral than to the purely social order. The heart can as little avoid this fii'st step, the Family — it can as little avoid looking to it afterwards as an habitual stimu- lus — as the intellect can disdain the lower steps in the encyclopedic scale, in order to rise at once to the highest. For these highest constantly enforce on it the necessity of renewing its strength by recurrinf^ to the original source. It is the constant practice of private worship that, more than anything else, will ultimately distinguish true Positivists from the false brethren 118 FIRST PART. with whom we shall be burdened as soon as the true religion shall gain ascendancy. Without this mark, hypocrisy would be easy, and the hypocrite would usurp the consideration due only to the sin- cere worshippers of Humanity. Between Humanity and the Family we must also develope the normal intermediate step. We find this in the natural feelings, at the present day vague and weak, which bind us specially to our country properly so called. These intermediate affections require, for their right cultivation, an association of a limited size. This requirement will be the best ground on which to rest the reduction of the large kingdoms of the present day to simple cities with their due adjuncts — a process I shall explain later. CONVERSATION IV. PRIVATE WORSHIP. The Woman. — It seems to me, my father, that private worship must fall into two parts, as private life does, and those parts quite distinct — the one jDersonal, the other domestic. To keep them sepa- rate seems necessary for our explanation. The Priest. — Your division is the natural one. I was bound not to mix it up with my main division of the worship ; but it gives us, my daughter, the plan of our present conversation. In it we shall deal with two great institutions of sociolatry. The one relates to the true guardian angels, the other to the nine social sacraments. They will constitute PRIVATE WOESHIP. 119 the respective cliaracteristics, first of our personal, next of our domestic worship. The reasons for making the latter subordinate to the former are, though in a less degree, essentially similar to those which represent the whole of private worship as the only solid basis of public. More our own than any other, our personal worship alone can develope in us the habits which can test our adoration whether it be sincere or not. Without these habits, our domestic ceremonies, and still more our public solemnities, could have no moral efficacy. Thus sociolatry forms for each one a natural progressive series. Individual prayers are the right preparation for the celebration of our social rites, by the regular intermedium of the consecrations that concern us as members of a Family. The Woman. — Since our personal worship is thus made the primary basis of all our religious practices, I beg you, my father, to explain to me directly its real nature. The Priest. — It consists, my daughter, in the daily adoration of the best types which we can find to personify Humanity, taking into account the whole of our private relations. The existence of the Supreme Being is founded entirely on love, for love alone unites in a voluntary union its separable elements. Consequently the afi'ective sex is naturally the most perfect representa- tive of Humanity, and at the same time her principal minister. Never will art be able worthily to embody Humanity except in the form of Woman. 120 FIRST PART. But the moral providence of our Divinity is not exercised solely by the action of your sex collectively upon mine. This its fundamental ofl&ce is a conse- quent of the personal influence that every true woman constantly exerts in the bosom of her own family. The domestic sanctuary is the continual source of the holy impulse which can alone preserv^e us from the moral corruption to which we are exposed in active or speculative life. The collective action of woman upon man must have its root in private life, or it will be found to have no perma- nent effect. It is within the family also that we gain the means of rightly appreciating the affective sex ; for no one can know more of that sex than what he gains from the types of it with which he is brought into daily contact. You see then how, in the normal state, each man finds in his family circle real guardian angels, at once the ministers and representatives of Hu- manity. The secret adoration of them strength- ens and developes their continuous influence. It thus tends directly to make us better and happier, by ensuring the gradual predominance of altruism over egoism ; by affording free scope to the former, by controlling the latter. Our just gratitude for benefits already received, thus becomes the natural source of fresh progress. The happy ambiguity of the French word, patron, marks sufiiciently this twofold eflScacity of our personal worship. Eor in it each angel must be equally invoked as a protector and as a model. PRIVATE WORSHIP. 121 The Woman. — This first general view leaves me, my father, quite undecided as to what the personal type is to be. It would seem that we might, with equal reason, choose any one of the leading relations of domestic life. The Priest. — We must really, my daughter, duly combine three of them, if we wish the worship of angels to have its full efiect. We find in the theory of Positivism an indication of the necessity of this plurality. For we there find that the sympa- thetic instincts are three in number, and each of the three finds a special female influence to corre- spond with it. The mother, the wife, the daughter, must in our worship, as in the existence of which that worship is the ideal expression, develope in us, respectively — the mother, veneration; the wife, at- tachment ; the daughter, kindness. As for the sister, the influence she exercises has hardly a very distinct character, and she may, in succession, be connected with each of the three essential types. The three together represent to us the three natural modes of human continuity — the past, the present, the future — as also the three degrees of soli- darity which bind us to our superiors, our equals, and our inferiors. But the spontaneous harmony of the three can only be fully maintained by observing their natural subordination. So the maternal angel must habitually take the first place, yet so that her gentle presidency never impair the force of the other two. This personal worship, as a general rule, has for its 122 FIRST PART. object to guide the maturity of eacli worshipper. At that time one of the three feminine types has most frequently become subjective, whilst another remains objective. The two influences, subjective and ob- jective, are normally mixed, and our homage is more efficacious for the mixture ; for it secures a better combination of strength and clearness of imagery with consistency and purity of feeling. The Woman. — Your explanation seems to me very satisfactory, yet I feel, my father, that it leaves a great want as to my own sex. Our moral wants appear neglected. True, tenderness is our special distinction ; yet we can hardly therefore be above the need of some such habitual cultivation of ten- derness as the institution of guardian angels implies. The Priest. — You have, my daughter, an easy solution of your difficulty in the plurality of our angelic types. This is the proper way of meeting it, othermse it would be impossible to overcome it. In fact, the principal angel alone must be common to both sexes. Each sex must borrow from the other the two angels that complete the institution. For the mother has, for both sexes equally, a pre- ponderance, not merely as the main source even of our physical existence, but still more as normally presiding over the whole of our education. The mother, then, is the object of adoration to both sexes. To her your sex must add the worship of the husband and the son, on the same grounds as I have assigned above for the man's worship of the wife and daughter. ^Ve need not go further ; the PRIVATE WOESHIP. 123 difference is enough to meet the wants of both sexes. They require a patronage, in the case of woman specially adapted to develope energy j in the case of man, tenderness. The Woman. — I feel ah'eady the strong attrac- tion of this great institution. But I find still in it, my father, two general imperfections. First, why does not it use all our private relations ? next, is there sufficient allowance made for the too frequent inadequacy of the types in actual life % The Priest. — These two difficulties disappear, my daughter, if you take into account the several sub- ordinate types which have a natural connexion witli each of our chief types, from their exciting similar feelings and standing in a similar relation to us. Around the mother we group naturally, first the father, and sometimes the sister, then the master and protector, over and above any similar relations which may be largely increased in number both within the family and without. Extend the same method to the other two types, and we form a series of objects of adoration, becoming constantly less personal and more general. The result is, a gradual transition, so gradual as to be almost insensible, from private to public worship. This, the normal development, enables us also to supply, as far as possible, any exceptional deficiencies, by substi- tuting, in case of need, in the room of one of the primary types its most prominent subordinate. So we are enabled, subjectively, to re-create the family when it is formed of bad elements. 124 FIRST PART. The Woman. — These remarks complete the subject. It remains for me, my father, to ask you for some more precise explanations as to the general system of prayers adapted to this fundamental worship. The Priest. — It requires, my daughter, three daily prayers — on getting up, before going to sleep, and in the midst of our daily occupations whatever they be. The first prayer must be longer and more efficacious than the other two. Each man should begin his day by a due invocation of his angels. This alone can dispose us to the right use habitually of all our powers. In the last prayer, we express the gratitude we owe to them for their protection during the day, and we hope thus to secure its con- tinuance during our sleep. The mid-day prayer must, for a time, disengage us from the various im- pulses of thought and action, and must carry into both that influence of affection from which they have a tendency to alienate us. The object of these prayers of itself points out their respective times and mode of performance. The first precedes the work of the day ; it takes place at the domestic altar, arranged so as to revive our best memories, and the attitude is kneeling, the proper attitude of veneration. The last prayer will be said when in bed, and ought, as far as possible, to continue till we fall asleep, in order the better to ensure a calm brain, at the time when we are least protected from evil tendencies. The period for our mid-day prayer cannot be so accurately stated. It must vary with individual convenience. It is, how- PRIVATE WORSHIP. 125 ever, important that each one should, in his own way, fix it strictly. If he does so, he will find it easier to ensure the frame of mind it requires. The respective length of our three daily prayers is also pointed out by their peculiar object. The morning prayer should be, in general, twice as long as the evening. That at mid-day should be half as long. When our personal worship is completely organized, the chief prayer naturally occupies the first hour of each day. This "length is required, because we divide its opening part into two, each as long as the conclusion. We begin with the proper commemoration of the day; then comes that which is appointed for the week. The result is, that we usually divide the morning prayer into three parts of equal length, and in the three we give precedence respectively, first to images, then to signs, and last to feelings. The two other prayers do not admit of the same proportion between commemoration and efi'asion. In the morning, efiusion in all lasts only half as long as commemoration. You invert this proportion in the evening, and you equalize the two at mid-day. You will find no difl5.culty in these minor diflferences. But I would call your attention to the fact that the total length of our daily worship only reaches two hours, even in the case of those who find it useful during the night to repeat the prayer appro- priate for mid-day. Every Positivist then will devote to his daily personal improvement less time than is now ab- 126 FIRST PART. sorbed by reading books of no value, or by useless or even pernicious amusements. In prayer alone can any decided progress of our subjective life take place, for in prayer we identify ourselves more and more with the Being we adore. The image of that Being is gradually purified and becomes more clear and vivid as we enter on each new year of our worship. By these jDrivate practices we prepare ourselves to feel aright the awakening of our sym- pathies due to the publicity of our other sacred rites. The moral qualities formed by such habits will, I hope, when combined, enable the rules of sociolatry to overcome, in the best of both sexes, the present coarseness of manners. Men of ordinary and un- cultivated mind still regard as lost, whatever time is not occupied by work in the common sense. Where there is cultivation, there we find a reco- gnition of the inherent value of pure intellectual exertion. But since the close of the Middle Ages, there has been a general forge tfuln ess of the direct higher value of moral cultivation properly so called. "VVe should be half inclined to blush were we to devote to this moral cultivation as much time as the great Alfred allotted it daily, without in any way impairing his admirable activity. To comj^lete this sjDecial theory of our daily prayers, I must point out to you that the orna- ments we borrow for it from the esthetic treasures of Humanity, must always be kept subordinate. Nor are they equally divided between the three prayers. By their nature, they are more adapted PRIVATE WORSHIP. 127 to aid our effusions tlian our commemoration. As such, the aid they give us is more available in the evening than in the morning. But the special purpose of them is, to free us from the necessity of making our mid-day prayer ourselves. We often find this dijfficult to do; and in this case the effusion with which we end may consist almost entirely in a judicious choice of passages from the poets. When singing and drawing shall have become as familiar as speaking and writing, by the aid of this help from without we shall be more able to meet our internal wants at times when, as is too frequently the case, our best emotions are languid. The Woman. — Now that I understand our per- sonal worship, I am endeavouring, my father, to anticipate your exposition by forming a conception of the domestic worship properly so called. But I cannot of myself, as yet, get a satisfactory idea of it. I quite see that the domestic, as well as the j^ersonal worship, can institute a constant adoration of the types common to the whole family. It can also in this, the elementary society, avail itself of the col- lective invocations which in public worship are addressed directly to Humanity. These two kinds of religious practices, under the natural priesthood of the head of the family, are susceptible, no doubt, of a high moral influence. Still, something is want- ing to stamp on our domestic worship a character quite its own, so as to keep it distinct from the two which it is to connect. 128 FIRST PART. The Priest. — We meet this, my daughter, by the institution of the social sacraments. They distin- guish the domestic worship from the two others. They also form a natural transition. In these sacraments we consecrate each of the successive periods of our private life by connecting it with public life. Hence our nine social sacraments — Presentation, initiation, admission, destination, mar- riage, maturity, retirement, transformation, and lastly incorporation. They succeed one another in an unbroken series, and form so many preparations by which, during the whole of his objective life, the worthy servant of Humanity proceeds, in a gradual course, to the subjective eternity which is ulti- mately to constitute him in the strictest sense an organ of the Divinity we worship. The Woman. — AYithin the normal limits of this Catechism you cannot, my father, give me a really complete explanation of all our sacraments. Still I hope you will be able to give me some idea of each. The Priest. — In its first sacrament, my daughter, our religion, the final one, gives a systematic consecration to every birth. To this all previous religions had been instinctively led. The mother and the father of the new scion of Humanity come to present it to the priesthood. The j^riesthood receives from them a solemn engagement to fit the child for the service of Humanity. This natural guarantee is made more complete by two additional institutions, the germ of which Positivism thinks PRIVATE WORSHIP. 129 it an tionour to borrow from Catholicism. It developes that germ under the impulse of its social principles. An artificial couple, chosen by the parents, with the approbation of the priesthood, ensures the new servant of the Supreme Being a fresh protection. That protection is mainly spi- ritual, but at need becomes temporal, and all the special witnesses concur in it. He also receives from his two families two particular patrons, one chosen from among the theoretical, the other from the practical, servants of Humanity. The names he derives from these two he must complete by a thii'd ; for at the time of his emancipation he must give himself a third name, selected, as the other two, from among the consecrated representatives of Humanity. In the ancient civilization, this first sacrament was often refused, especially to those who were thought incapable of the destructive activity which was then in especial request. But as the constitu- tion of modern society more and more finds a use for natures of every order, the presentation will be almost invariably accepted by the priesthood, allow- ing for certain cases which are too entirely excep- tions to need prevision. The second sacrament bears the name oi Initiation, as marking the first entrance into public life, when the child passes, at the age of fourteen, from its unsys- tematic training under the eye of its mother, to the systematic education given by the priesthood. Till that period, the advice of the priest is given solely to K 130 FIRST PART. the parents, whether natural or artificial, to remind them of their essential duties during the first period of childhood. But now, the boy receives himself the advice from the priest, and no longer through his parents. The aim of that advice is especially, to strengthen his heart against the injurious influ- ences which too often accompany the intellectual training which he is now to undergo. This second sacrament may be put oflT, and sometimes refused, though very seldom, if the home education has been very unsuccessful. Seven years later, the young disciple who has been first presented, then initiated, receives, as the consequence of his whole preparation, the sacrament of admission. By it he is authorized freely to serve Humanity, whereas hitherto he received everything from Humanity and gave nothing in return. In civil legislation we find a constant recognition of the fact that it is necessary to put off, and even to refuse, this emancipation, in the case of those whose extremely defective organization, uncorrected by education, condemns them to perpetual infancy. The priesthood, as more qualified to form an accu- rate judgment, will not shrink from having recourse to measures of equal severity. But the direct con- sequences of their severity must never extend be- yond the spiritual domain. By this third sacrament, the child becomes a servant of Humanity. It does not, however, yet mark out his special career. This -will often be different from that which it was supposed to be PRIVATE WORSHIP. 131 whilst his practical apprenticeship, and the educa- tion of his intellect, were proceeding together. He alone is the proper judge on this point; and he must judge on trial of himself for a sufficient length of time. Hence a fourth social sacrament. At the age of twenty-eight, allowing for a delay — a delay which may be either at his own request or enjoined — the sacrament of destination sanctions his choice of a career. The old worship offered us the rudi- ment, as it were, of this institution, confined to the case of the highest functions, in the ordination of priests and the coronation of kings. But Positive religion must always consider every useful profes- sion a fit subject for social institution, with no dis- tinction of public and private. The humblest ser- vants of Humanity will come to receive in her temples, from the hands of her priests, this solemn consecration of their entering on any co-operative function whatsoever. This is the only sacrament that admits of being really repeated, though such repetition must be an exception. Tlie Woman. — I understand, my father, this series of consecrations prior to marriage, itself to be followed by our four other sacraments. As for marriage, the most important of them all, and which alone gives completeness to the whole series of man's preparation, I already know the main points of the Positivist doctrine. Above all, I sympathize most deeply with the gi^eat institution of eternal widowhood, long looked for by the hearts of all true women. I recognise its importance for k2 132 FIEST PART. the family, and even for the city. But I see besides this, that under no other condition can we suffi- ciently develope our subjective life ; under no other condition can our minds rise to the familiar repre- sentation of Humanity, by means of an adequate personification. All these precious notions had I made almost my own before I became your cate- chumen. I know also that you will return to this subject from another point of view, when explaining the regime. AYe may then enter on the last series of oui* consecrations. The Priest. — First however, my daughter, we must settle what is the normal age for receiving the chief social sacrament. As marriage is to follow, and not precede, the choice of profession, men can only be admitted to it so far as it is a religious ordinance when they have accomplished their twenty-eighth year. The priesthood will even advise the Government to give the head of the family a legal veto up to the age of thirty, in order the better to guard against any precipitation in the case of the most important of all our private actions. In the case of women, the sacrament of destination necessarily coincides with that of admission ; for their vocation is always known and happily is uniform. They are therefore ready for marriage at the age of twenty-one, the age best fitted to secure the harmony of the marriage union. These are the lower limits of age, and must not be lowered for either sex, save on very exceptional gi'ounds, which the priesthood must thoroughly PRIVATE WORSHIP. 133 weigh, and take the moral responsibility of sanc- tioning. But in general, tlie higher limits should not be fixed, though women should almost always marry before twenty-eight, men before thirty-five. This is the rule for married life under its best form. The Woman. — The first sacrament after marriage seems to me, my father, sufficiently explained by the mere explanation of the term. You had already drawn my attention to the fact, that the full develop- ment of the human organism coincides in time with the completion of the man's social preparation, nearly at the age of forty-two. I am now thinking only of your sex, for mine is not concerned with the sacrament of maturity. The social function of women is at once too uniform and too fixed to re- quire either of the two consecrations that precede and follow marriage. The Priest. — You have succeeded, my daughter, in forming, without any help from me, a right idea of our sixth sacrament. Still you would hardly be able, if you stopped at this point, to appreciate rightly its peculiar importance. During the twenty- one years which elapse between the sixth and the seventh sacrament, the man is going through the second period of his objective life, on which alone depends his subjective immortality. Previously, our life is simply a preparation. Naturally we are liable to mistakes, and those sometimes of a serious character, but never beyond reparation. From this time forwards, on the contrary, the faults we commit we can hardly ever repair, whether in reference to 134 FIRST PART. ourselves err to others. It is important, then, that there should be a solemn ceremony when we impose on the servant of Humanity the responsibility from which he can now no longer shrink. In this cere- mony we must never lose sight of his peculiar function, now clearly determined. The Woman. — The next sacrament, so far as I see, my father, is simply destined to mark the normal termination of that great period of complete and direct action, of which the sixth consecration marked the beginning. The Priest. — On the contrary, my daughter, the sacrament of retirement is one of the most august and best determined of our sacraments. You will see that this is so, if you consider the last funda- mental duty which is then discharged by each time servant of Humanity. It is an institution of Posi- tivism, that every functionary, especially every tem- poral functionary, names his successor, subject to the sanction of his superior, and allowing for exceptional cases of moral or mental unworthiness, as I shall shortly explain to you. You see at once that there is no other means of adequately securing the con- tinuity of man's work. When at sixty-three, the citizen comes forward, of his own free will, to renounce active life, as his active powers are exhausted, and to have scope for the future for his legitimate influence as an adviser, he then solemnly exercises this last act of high authority, and by so doing publicly places such under the control of the priestly and popular elements of society. Their PRIVATE WORSHIP. 135 influence may lead him to modify liis ovra action therein. The rich also transmit their office ia obedience to the same rules; and to make their transmission complete, they hand over at the same time that portion of the capital of the race which forms the stock of the functionary, after he has made provision for his own personal wants. The Woman. — Now, my father, I see the full social bearing of our seventh sacrament. I looked on it at first as a kind of family festival. As for the eighth, I am familiar enough with the true religion to understand of myself in what it consists. It is to be the substitute for the horrible ceremony of the Catholic ritual. Catholicism, free from all check on its anti-social character, openly tore the dying person from all his human affections, and made him stand quite alone before the judg- ment-seat of God. In our transformcition, the priesthood mingles the regrets of society with the tears of his family, and shows that it has a just appreciation of the life that is ending. It first secures, where possible, compensation for errors committed, and then it generally holds out the hope of subjective incorporation. It must not, how- ever, compromise itself by a premature judgment. The Priest. — Your appreciation, my daughter, of the last objective sacrament is adequate. I will now explain to you the final consecration. Seven years after death, when the passions that disturb the judgment are hushed, and yet the best sources of information remain accessible, a solemn 136 FIEST PART. judgment, an idea wliicii, in its germ, sociocracy borrows from theocracy, finally decides tlie lot of each. If the priesthood pronounces for inccyi'pora- tion, it presides over the transfer, with due pomp, of the sanctified remains. They had previously been deposited in the burial-place of the city ; they now take their place for ever in the sacred wood that surrounds the temple of Humanity. Every tomb is ornamented with a simple inscription, a bust, or a statue, according to the degree of honour awarded. As to the excei^tional cases of marked unworthi- ness, the sigTi of disgrace consists in transporting, in the proper way, the ill-omened burden to the waste place allotted to the reprobate, amongst those who died by the hand of justice, by their own hand, or in duel. TJie Woman. — I have a clear idea of the nine social sacraments j but I feel, my father, a regTet as regards my sex in general. It does not seem to me that we are sufficiently considered. I make no objection to our exclusion from three of these con- secrations. Such exclusion is natural, and rests on grounds which are in the highest degree honourable to women. Their life is quieter, and requires there- fore less attention on the part of religion. But I cannot conceive why the subjective paradise should be closed against those whom our religion proclaims most qualified to merit admission. I do not, how- ever, see how women should, as a general rule, have this individual incorporation; for it must, in all cases. PRIVATE WORSHIP. 137 it seems to me, be the result of a public life ; whereas public life is wisely forbidden our sex, except in Yery rare cases. The Priest. — You will supply, my daughter, this serious defect, when you consider that the incorpora- tion of the man includes all the worthy auxiliaries of every true servant of Humanity, not even excepting the animals who have contributed their aid. The most important duty of woman is to form and perfect man. It would be, then, as absurd as it would be unjust to honour a good citizen, and neglect to honour the mother, the wife, to whom his success was mainly due. Around, and at times within, each consecrated tomb, the priesthood will be bound to collect, in the name of Humanity, all the individuals who helped its inmate, while alive, to perform the services she rewards. Your sex, by its superior organization, can taste more keenly the pure enjoyment that results from the mere growth and exercise of good feelings; but it should not, therefore, renounce its claim to just praise — much less should it renounce the subjective immortality whose value it so thoroughly appreciates. The Woman. — This ex2:>lauation completes your previous ones. It remains for me, my father, to ask you, wherein lies the obligation for each to re- ceive our different sacraments 1 The Priest. — They must always, my daughter, be purely optional, so far as any legal obligation is concerned. They bind a man; but they bind him 138 FIRST PART. with a simply moral obligation, the existence of ■which is proved by our education and sanctioned by opinion. The better to preserve this their j)urely spiritual character, on which more than anything else they depend for their efficiency, our sacraments must not be the only ones accessible. Side by side with them there should be parallel institutions, esta- blished and maintained by the temporal power, and these last alone can be enforced in every case. The judgment of the temporal power, less discrimi- nating and less strict, will dispense with the reli- gious rites in the case of those who may feel alarm at them, and who yet can render society services which it would be a pity to lose or impair. For instance, we must not look on ci^-il marriage as an anarchical institution, though it is of revolu- tionary origin. It is to be regarded as the neces- sary preliminary for a religious marriage, and it may dispense legally with this latter. The con- trary custom was the result of an usurpation on the part of Catholicism, which Positivism will never imitate. Those who shrink fi'om the law of widow- hood, essential to the performance of a Positivist maniage, must contract a civil union, to preserve them from vice and secure the legal rights of their children. The same holds good, though in a less degi'ee, for most of our social sacraments, especially for admission and destination. The priesthood ought, in case of need, to urge the Government to institute legal rules with the object of moderating PUBLIC WORSHIP. 139 the just strictness of our religious prescriptions. The observance of our sacraments will never be en- forced, nor will it ever have any other reward than that of conscience and opinion. CONVEESATION V. PUBLIC WORSHIP. The Woman. — We are now entering on the direct study of our public worship. I must, at the outset, submit to you, my father, the answer which I have given of myself to criticisms which I have heard directed against the whole of our solemn adora- tions. Superficial but honest, such critics urge that each Positivist is in fact glorifying himself when he is paying honour to a being which is of neces- sity composed of its own worshippers. Our private worship is in no way open to this reproach. It can only ajDply to the direct worship of Humanity, especially where that worship takes the shape of a collective homage. We can meet it by stating the true idea of the SujDreme Being. Humanity is, in the main, composed of subjective existences, of the dead, not of the living. They who testify their gratitude to her, are in no way certain, as a general rule, of being finally incorporated into her. All that they have is the hope of this reward. They expect to deserve it by a worthy life, the judgment on which, however, always rests with their suc- cessors. 140 FIRST PART. The Priest. — In setting your objectors right, you have kept close, my daughter, to the true spirit of our public worship. In it, the present glorifies the past, in order the better to prepare the future. The present disappears naturally in presence of these two immensities. Far from raising our pride, our solemn prayers have a constant tendency to inspire us with a true humility; for they make us pro- foundly conscious to what a degree, spite of our best collective efforts, we are incapable of ever paying to Humanity any but the very smallest part of that which she has given us. The Woman. — Before you explain the general outline of our public worship, would you, my father, give me an idea of the temples in which it is to be j)erformed ? As for the ministering priest- hood, I am aware that the essential features of its constitution will be clearly pointed out when we come to the regime. The Priest. — We cannot at present, my daughter, form an adequate conception of the temples of Positivism. Architecture is the most technical and the least esthetic of all the fine arts ; so that each fresh synthesis finds its architectural expression more difficult than any other. Our religion must be not only thoroughly worked out, but also widely sj^read, before the public wants can show what shape the edifices required must take. Provision- ally, then, we shall have to use the old churches, in proportion as they fall into disuse. This prelimi- nary period ought^ in our case, not to be so long as PUBLIC WORSHIP. 141 it was for Catholicism, which for many centuries was confined to buildings of Polytheistic origin. The only general points that can at j^resent be settled in this respect are, the situation and direc- tion of the building. These are determined by the nature of the Positive worship. Humanity is, in the main, composed of such dead as are worthy of a future life, so that her temples must be in the centre of the tombs of the elect. On the other hand, the chief attribute of Positive religion is its necessary universality. Everywhere, then, in all parts of the earth, the temples of Humanity must turn towards the general metropolis. This, for a long time, as the result of past history, must be Paris. In this manner Positi\'ism turns to account the idea, of which we find the rudiment in the Kebla of Islamism. We institute, as the Mahome- tans did, a common attitude for all time believei^, and so bring into fuller light the touching solidarity of our free worship. So far only can I go as to our sacred buildings. As .for their internal arrangement, all Vv^e need at present attend to is the necessity of keeping the chief sanctuary for women duly chosen. So may the Priests of Humanity be always surrounded by those who are her best representatives. The Woman. — Your last remark leads me, my father, to complete my former question, by asking you what are to be the symbols of our Divinity 1 As it is within the province of painting and sculpture to give them a definite form, that shape may be 142 FIRST PART. easier to appreciate than the construction of our temples, as the two first arts of form are more rapid in their progress than the third. The Priest. — The nature of our Supreme Being really leaves, my daughter, no oj^ening even now for hesitation as to the plastic representation of her. In painting or in sculpture, equally, the symbol of our Divinity will always be a woman of the age of thirty, with her son in her arms. The pre-eminence, religiously considered, of the affective sex, ought to be the principal feature in our emblematic repre- sentation, whilst the active sex must remain under her holy guardianship. Groups with more figures might render the symbolic representation more complete, but in such groups it would lose too much of its synthetic character to come into daily use. Of the two modes which are adapted for the expression of this normal symbol, sculpture is suitable for the image fixed in each temple, in the midst of the women chosen as above mention'fed, and behind the sacred desk. But painting is pre- ferable for the moveable banners to be carried before us in our solemn processions. On their white side will be the holy image ; on their green, the sacred formula of Positivism. This green side will be turned towards the procession. Tlie Woman. — As the last of my introductory questions, would you, my father, explain the sign which in ordinary use may represent the charac- teristic formula of Positivism ? Tlie Priest. — We get this sign, my daughter, from PUBLIC WORSHIP. 143 our cerebral theory, as I shall explain when we study our doctrine. When we repeat our funda- mental formula, we may place our hand in succes- sion on the three chief organs — those of love, order, and progress. The two first adjoin one another; the last is only separated from the other two by the organ of veneration, the natural cement of the whole they together form ; so that the gesture may be continuous. When the habit is formed, we need not repeat the words — the gesture is enough. In the end, as the order by the cerebral organs indi- cates their functions, we may, in case of need, re- duce the sign to the simple mention, one after the other, of the numbers which represent those organs in our synopsis (C). So, without any arbitrary in- stitution, Positivism is already in possession of a sign for common use, more expressive than any of those adopted by Catholicism and Islamism. Tlis Woman. — Now, my father, I ought no longer to delay your entering on the direct explanation of the system of public worship. The Priest. — You will find it, my daughter, fully expressed in the synopsis I here offer you. {Table A, at the end of vohcme.) Our worship, like its predecessors, has two objects : these two are — to make us better understand, and better live the life which it represents. We first, then, idealize the fundamental ties which constitute oiu' existence ; secondly, the preparatory stages essential to it ; lastly, the functions of its various organs in the normal state. Such are to be respectively the 144 FIRST PART. objects of the three systems of monthly festivals which fill up the Positivist year. That year is con- sequently divided into thirteen months, of four weeks each, with one complementary day set apart as the Festival of the Dead. You already know the four fundamental classes — the affective, sj^eculative, patrician, and plebeian class — which are essential to society in its normal form. As for the preparatory stages, we could not without confusion condense them more than we have done, so profound are the differences, both intellectual and social, which must always distin- guish fetichism, polytheism, and monotheism, even in the spontaneous initiation of every Positivist. With regard to the primary relations which are the bonds of society, we must begin by celebrating the most universal. We then honour, in turn, each of the private affections which alone can ensure the first a real consistency. These elementary rela- tions are really five in number — marriage, the rela- tion of parent to child, of child to parent, that of brothers, and the domestic relation, or that of master and servant — and we rank them, in obedience to our hierarchical principle, by theii" increase in point of generality, their decrease in intimacy. The number of months in the Positivist year has at first sight an appearance of paradox. It is sanc- tioned by a correct estimate of the religious grounds on which it rests. Pepeated experience has, more- over, shown that there will be no difficulty in intro- ducing it simultaneously with the faith. Again, PUBLIC WORSHIP. 145 the Universal religion alone can secure regularity in point of time by its exact division of each month into four periods of a week each. However great the practical advantages of such an arrangement, it would not be adopted, were it not that our worship does not allow us to hesitate, as mere material reasons would do. The Woman. — On a first view, I see, my father, no serious difficulty in your synopsis of sociolatry, except as regards the domestic relation. You seem to me to exaggerate its importance, when you place it in that scheme as one of the fundamental bonds of society. The Priest. — Your objection reminds me, my daughter, that you belong by birth to the north, although happily preserved fi'om Protestantism. For the southern nations of Western Europe retain, in this respect, more perfectly the true feelings of the race, so nobly developed in the Middle Ages. The domestic relation is not destined to pass away. Far from it, it will become more and more important, as it more completely clears itself of all trace of its original form, slavery. When once it has become completely voluntary, it will furnish many families with the best means of rendering worthy service to the Supreme Being. They may serve Humanity by assisting her true servants, whether philosophical or practical. Such assist- ance is indispensable. Thus they indirectly share in promoting the public good. Yet though indirect, theb' participation is more complete and less uucer- L 146 FIRST PART. tain than that of most whose co-operation is direct. It may be made also more efficient in the cultiva- tion of our best feelings. We restrict it within too narrow limits when we confine it to certain classes. In all ranks of society, above all in the proletariate, every citizen passed through this condition, whilst his practical education lasted. We must then idealize the domestic relation as the complement of the family relations, and the first step towards those of citizens. The Woman. — My heart wanted, my father, nothing but this rational correction of an intellec- tual error, to enable it to rise above my anarchical prejudices. They prevented me from fraternizing, as I should have done, with the nobler types of this class. Such types are not uncommon, especially among women, though they are not appreciated. Your explanation will have a wholesome effect on me. I only wish one more and that a general one, in respect to the other end of our scheme of socio- latry. I cannot but think you have inverted the positions of the patriciate and proletariate. Political considerations may rank them in the order given, on the principle of their material power. But re- ligion classes men on the principle of moral worth, and ought, it seems to me, to arrange them differently. The Priest. — You forget, my daughter, that in Positive religion there must be an exact correspon- dence between the worship and the regime. But I easily excuse your mistake, by the nobleness of its motive. At times I have thought as you do, from allowing too much weight to the extremely imperfect PUBLIC WORSHIP. 147 state of the actual patriciate, so often unworthy of its high social destination. Real superiority of the brain, moral superiority even more than intellec- tual, is, at the present day, far more widely spread, in proportion, among the working classes. For they have escaped the degrading influences of education and power. Still, though we must carefully take into ac- count this exceptional state of things as a fact beyond dispute, when we are arranging the transitional organization of Western Europe, we must not the less be able systematically to put it aside when we are constructing the abstract worship of Humanity, destined mainly for the use of the race in its normal state. If we look too much to the present and not enough to the future, we should certainly be led to place even the priesthood below the prole- tariate. For the priesthood is actually far more imperfect than the patriciate, whether you clioose to judge it as it exists among the scattered ruins of theological belief, or in its rudimentary state amid the doctrines of metaphysics and science. In the Positive worship, as in the normal ex- istence of which it is the ideal expression, the patrician worthy of his position is higher, as a general rule, than the plebeian, as much in true nobleness as in real power. As we rank the classes of men by their aptitude to represent the Great Being, the importance and difficulty of the peculiar service rendered by the patrician class, as well as the education required and the responsibility involved, always place it above the proletariate. L 2 148 FIRST PART. It is, in fact, in the name of this higher rank that the wisdom of the priesthood, properly aided by the sanction of women and the support of the people, must remind the patricians, whether singly or collectively, of their eternal social duties, in cases of serious neglect. But these remonstrances must be exceptions, and they would fail of their main object, if the normal worship did not pay sufficient honour to the necessary ministers of our material i^rovidence. By placing the proletariate at the lower extremity of the social scale, the worship reminds the proletaries that their characteristic aptitude to control and correct all the powers of society is the result of their situation — a situation essentially passive, and developing no marked ten- dency. Our sacred synopsis, then, like the regime which it represents, must place the two great powers, the spiritual and the temporal, between women and the proletaries — the two bodies which exercise a constant influence on the sentiments and conduct of those powers. If the patriciate were placed lower, it would be a breach of the harmony of the Positive system, quite as much in reference to sociolatvy as to sociocracy. The Woman. — I am sufficiently familiar already with the system of public worship for you to ex- plain to me, niy father, your weekly division of the thirteen monthly festivals. This' last development gives each week its general festival. This must be a great help to secure the moral object of our worship of Humanity. For by this means Humanity is PUBLIC WORSHIP. 149 constantly recurring under widely varied aspects, but aspects which, though varied, are convergent. The Priest. — Before I enter on this explanation, my daughter, I should say that Positivism retains unchanged the established names for the days of the week. I had thought of substituting others ; but I have given up the attempt, and there will be no trace left of it except a beautiful series of prayers by ]M. Joseph Lonchampt, for each day of the week. The old names have the advantage of recalling the whole of the past, in its three stages of fetichism, polytheism, and monotheism.* To make our worship completely regular, it was necessary, my daughter, that each day of any week whatever should always hold the same place in the year. This invariability is obtained by affixing no weekly name, first, to the complementary day which always closes the Positivist year, then to the additional day which follows it if it is leap-year, according to the practice of Western Europe. Each of these exceptional days is really sufficiently marked by the festival appointed for it. With this precaution, our calendar holds good for all years — a point as important for the regime as for the worship. The Woman. — I can easily conceive, my father, the moral efficacy of such invariability, by which each day of our year might receive, as the last day does, a name purely religious. Catholicism was never able to secure this as a rule. * See Pol. Pos. vol. iv. pp. 135, 404. 150 FIRST PART. The Priest. — This preliminary settled, I may, my daugliter, begin to state directly in their order the solemn ceremonies appointed for the seventh day in each week. Your synopsis of sociolatry shows you how the idea which each month commemorates is divided between the four weekly festivals. All I have to do is to state the grounds of this division, and to make it clear by some summary explanations. Our first month, dedicated to Humanity, needs little in this respect. We open the Positivist year by the most august of all our festivals — a direct homage to the Supreme Being. The four weekly festivals are the complement of this main one. In them we respectively do honour to the various essential forms of the social union. They rank according to the decrease of extension, and the in- crease of intimacy, in the relations of the race. The first festival honours the bond of religion, the only one that admits of being imiversal ; the second glorifies the connexion due to old political relations. These have disappeared, but not without leaving strong traces in a community of language and poetry. In the third, we celebrate directly the effective union springing from the free acceptance of one and the same government. The fourth honours the least extended but the most complete of our civil relations. In it the habit of familiar association brings us nearest to the family union. Passing to the month consecrated to marriage, its first solemnity glorifies the conjugal union in its completest form, when it is at once exclusive and PUBLIC WORSHIP. 151 indissoluble, even by death. The priesthood must take this occasion to bring home, both to our heart and intellect, the general advance of this admirable institution, the primary basis of the whole order of man. It must enumerate and explain all its es- sential phases, from the polygamy which originally prevailed dowTi to the strictest monogamy, the Positivist maiTiage. In the following festival we honoui- the voluntary chastity which weighty moral or physical reasons may in'escribe, even in marriage. The capital object of marriage, the mutual improvement of both sexes, comes out more clearly in such an union. Nor does this exceptional union oblige them, who are bound by it, to renounce the affections that concern the future. These may be secured by a judicious adoption. The priesthood will bring out into suitable relief the tendency of such an union to control human procreation. It allows the benefits of marriage where otherwise inherited disease would forbid them. The third week of marriage leads us to honour the exceptional unions in which a disparity, not without excuse, does not preclude the attainment of the main object of marriage, especially when in the final state opinion shall fix a limit to the difference of age allowed. Lastly, the fourth fes- tival honours the posthumous union, which Avill often be the result of the normal constitution of human marriage. The truest charm of mar- riage is often strengthened and developed by the 152 FIRST PART. purity and constancy that distinguish subjective love. One explanation will suffice for the three follow- ing months, for their weekly subdivisions are naturally the same. For the first of them, the first half is devoted to the paternal relation in its com- plete form, first when involuntary, next in the case of adoption ; the second half is reserved for the same relation when incomplete, a relation such as that which in every regular society results from spiritual authority or temporal patronage. Hence spring, in a descending order, the four normal de- grees of paternal affection, respectively honoured in the four weekly festivals of the third Positivist month. Now the same distinctions and gradations necessarily recur in the case of the relation of chil- dren to their parents, or of brothers to one another. So I may dispense with any first explanation for the fourth and fifth months. As for the sixth, it begins by honouring the domestic relation when permanent. This will always mark ofi" a very numerous, but still a special class. jSText we honour the analogous position in which each man, as a rule, finds himself during his practical education. The first case requires for clearness an important subdivision, the distinction of which is residence. The domestic relation is complete in the case of the servant proper, or in- complete in that of the clerk who has simply to perform a certain office. When the manners of the normal state shall have made domestic service, espe- PUBLIC WORSHIP. 153 cially that of women, consistent with the full development of family afifection, Positive worship will show the real moral superiority of the first position, for in it the spirit of devotion is purer and more keen. The same distinction is applicable, though in a less marked degi-ee, to temporary ser- vice, and is there again determined by residence. Hence the two last festivals of the sixth month, respectively devoted to pages and to apprentices, according as the masters are rich or poor. The Woman. — Tn all these details of the different fundamental relations of society, I find, my father, no difficulty. But I am afi'aid that my weakness in history will prevent my fully understanding the second series of social festivals ; for the preparatory state of them, as a whole, is as yet only known to me by the first law of evolution. The Priest. — That law is enough, my daughter, to enable you even now to understand, in outline, the succession of the three preliminary states men- tioned in our synopsis of sociolatry. As for the weekly division of each of those states, you will, it is true, hardly be able to enter into it till after the historical conversation with which I shall end this Catechism. I limit myself, therefore, to the co- ordination of the chief divisions. I leave it to you to complete it for yourself, when you shall have gained the requisite knowledge. The fictitious synthesis, in all cases resting on the search after causes, may take two forms, according as the will, to which events are attributed, is iiihe- 154 FIRST PART. rent in matter itself, or in beings external to matter, but which are usually beyond the reach of our senses. Now the first or direct form, which is of more spontaneous gi^owth than any other, is the initial stage, or fetichism ; whereas the second or indirect form marks the theological state which follows. But this last state, less simple and less lasting than the first, offers a succession of two dis- tinct constitutions, according as the Gods are nume- rous or are condensed into one. Theologism, which is after all but an immense transition from Fetich- ism to Positivism, takes its rise in Fetichism in its polytheistic form, and leads to Positivism in its monotheistic. Fill up this outline of the philoso- phical advance of our race by the corresponding social progi-ess, and you have the whole initiation of man adequately expressed, as you will soon feel. You will then be able to see how well adapted is our second series of social festivals to pay due honour to all the essential phases of this long pre- paration, from the first forward movement of the smallest tribes down to the twofold development of the modern stage of transition. This full celebra- tion of the past of man, in twelve weekly festivals, is the result of the historical condensation which the abstract worship by its nature allows. The Woman. — We can now then, my father, enter on the last series of our social festivals. The month dedicated to women, or the moral providence of the race, offers me no difficulty, for I see the clearly- marked distinction between the types chosen from PUBLIC WORSHIP. 15.5 women to represent its four weekly festivals. But I am at a loss as yet as to the cli\asion of the sacerdotal montL The PHest. — Take for your guide, my daughter, the different forms or degi'ees of the Positive priest- hood, ranked according to their increasing complete- ness. This great ministry calls for a rare union of moral qualities, both those of action and of affection, with intellectual ability, both for art and science. If this last alone is remarkable, its possessors, after proper cultivation, must be, perhaps for ever, mere pensionaries of the spiritual power ; they must never aspire to be incorporated into it. In these cases, which are fortunately exceptional, the finest genius for poetry or philosophy cannot supply the place of tenderness and energy in a functionary who must habitually feel the warmest sympathy, and who has often to engage in difficult struggles. This incomplete form of priesthood allows for the due cultivation of all true talent without endangering the service of society. As for the complete priesthood, the fii^st requisite is a preparatory stage, beyond which the candidate will not proceed, if, in spite of his announcement of his vocation, he does not successfully pass through the proper novitiate. After this decisive trial, at thirty-five he obtains directly and definitively the priesthood. But during seven years he must remain in the subordinate position which marks the vicar or substitute. When he has duly gone through all the steps of our encyclopedic teaching, and, within 156 FIRST PART. certain limits, performed the other functions of the priest, he reaches, at the age of forty-two, the chief degree ; he then becomes irrevocably a j)riest in the fullest sense. Such are the four classes of the theo- retical body, honoured respectively in the four weekly festivals of the eleventh month. The Woman. — The next month, my father, re- quires no particular explanation. I am not familiar with active life, but the definiteness which charac- terizes it enables me fully to understand the normal division of the patrician body into four essential classes, ranked on the principle of the decreasing generality of their functions and the increasing number of functionaries. Perhaps even, in our anarchical period, women are better qualified than the proletaries, and still more than their teachers, to appreciate rightly this natural hierarchy. For they are more thoroughly preserved from the dis- turbing influences of passion, and from sophistical views. I am glad, then, that the four weekly festivals of our twelfth month yearly honour, and, by honouring, give a moral character to these four different and necessary forms of the material power on which rests the whole economy of society. But I am not so clear as to the divisions of the last mouth. The Priest. — That division depends, my daughter, on the character of generality which attaches natu- rally to the proletariate, in which all the great attributes of Humanity require a distinct ideal expression. This immense social body, the neces- PUBLIC WORSHIP. 157 sary stock of all special classes — is mainly devoted to active life, and active life is the direct object of tlie first weekly festival of the plebeian month. Next to the active proletariate, we must pay a sejDarate tribute to the affective proletariate, which is its necessary accompaniment. Without this special tribute to the women of the proletary class, the general celebration of the types of women remains incomplete; for in the tenth month we considered them froui a point of view which em- braced all classes — here they are viewed in especial reference to theii- poj)ular action. The third festival of our thirteenth month must find fit means for duly honouring the contemplative class of proletaries; especially those who are ar- tistic, or even scientific. They have not been able to gain admission into a priesthood whose numbers must of course be limited, and yet they feel them- selves more adapted to theory than practice. We shall have at times to pity these exceptional types; in all cases we must respect them : so only can we make them properly useful by wisely guiding their natural tendencies. From them principally must come the general control exercised by the prole- tariate over the special depositaries of power, whereas the impulse which the same body ought to give requires men of a more active nature. Finally, the last festival of our popular month honours mendicity, whether temporary or perma- nent. Improve society to the utmost, still you never reach the point where this, the extreme con- 158 FIRST PART. sequence of the peculiar imperfections of practical life, shall cease. So the ideal expression of our social state would be incomplete unless the priest- hood closed it by the just appreciation of this ex- ceptional form of existence. Where there is ade- quate justification and pi'oper conduct, such an ex- istence deserves the sympathy, at times even the praise, of all honourable minds. More fluctuating than any other, this complementary class naturally connects with all ranks of society. They must in time di-aw from it and feed it. It thus becomes well qualified to develop the general influence of the proletariate on all the powers of society. It would then be as great an act of improvidence as of injustice not to give mendicants a separate notice in our idealization. The Woman. — As for the complementary day, I see, my father, why Positivism places at the end of our year the collective festival of the dead happily introduced by Catholicism. This touching com- memoration would, if it had occurred in the midst of our public worship, have disturbed its normal economy. Placed as it is, it is the proper comj)le- ment of the whole, and the natural preparation for the recurrence of the yearly order. It was fitting that the festival peculiar to the Supreme Being should be preceded by the glorification of all its organs without exception. The additional day in leap-year is equally easy. My sex can scarcely ever deserve an individual and public apotheosis. So the abstract system of PUBLIC WORSHIP. 159 worship, without degenerating into a concrete wor- shiji, was bound to pay this honour, collectively, to women who deserve an individual celebration. The ideal expression of human existence is thus completed, by the honour paid to the right use of the various exceptional qualities that woman's na- ture allows, when its more important characteristics are kept unimpaired. The Priest. — As you have of yourself, my daughter, satisfactorily finished the explanation of our public worship, we have reached the end of the first part of our Catechism. We must now return to the study of the doctrine, the central idea of which was given in the Introduction. In its worship. Positivism appears as the religion of Love. Humanity, the highest object of that love, it was necessary to explain before the worship. In its doctrine, to which we now proceed, Positivism will appear as the religion of order. In the subse- quent treatment of the regime, we shall see that it alone is the religion of progress, and, in particular, of the moral progi-ess of the human race. Btm\)i ^Hrt. CONVERSATION VT. THE DOCTRINE. The Woman. — You Lave already ex])lainecl to me, my father, in the second conversation of our Introduction, the Great Being whom we worship — Humanity. In the three following conversations, you have given an exposition of the worship we pay her. I ask you now to show me how the whole system of Positive doctrine may be systematically grouped around Humanity, its central unity. The Foxiest. — First of all, my daughter, you must give up all idea of attaining to an absolute, external, or, in one word, an objective unity. This will be easier for you than for the learned." The wish for such an objective unity was compatible with the inquiry into causes. It is in direct contradiction with the study of laws ; for by laws we mean in- variable relations traced in widely varying phe- nomena. These relations admit of no unity but a purely relative and human one; in one word, a subjective unity. In fact, laws cannot be reduced to unity, cannot be spoken of in the singular, by virtue of the impossibility that notoriously exists of THE DOCTRINE. 161 reducing under the otlier either of the two general elements of all our conceptions of things, the world and man. It is conceivable that we might succeed in condensing each of these two great objects of study around one single law of nature. Still, as even then the two must remain separate, scientific unity is unattainable. The knowledge of the world presupposes man as the being who has that know- ledge. But the world could exist without man, as is perhaps the case with many stars which are not fit for man to live in. So again, though man is dependent on the world, he is in no sense its necessary result. All the efibrts of materialists to do away with spontaneous vital action, by exagge- rating the preponderating influence of the material environment on organized beings, have ended in nothing but the discrediting the inquiry. It is as useless as it is idle; for the future it should be abandoned to minds of an unscientific character. Further than this, we are far from being able to establish any objective unity even within the limits of each general element of the dualism above mentioned, the dualism of the world and man. The various branches into which the study of the world or of man is, for practical need, divided, reveal to us an increasing number of different laws. These laws will never be susceptible of reduction, the one under the other, spite of the frivolous hopes inspired at first by our discovery of the law of planetary gravitation. These laws are for the most part still unknown ; many must ever remain M 162 SECOXD PART. SO. Still, we know enough to guarantee against all clanger the fundamental dogma of Positivism — the subjection, viz., of all phenomena of whatever order to invariable relations. The existing order, the result of the whole combination of the laws of nature, bears the general name of fate or chance; fate, if the laws are known to us — chance, if they are unknown. This distinction will always remain of gTeat practical importance, since the ignorance of these laws is, for our action, equivalent to their non-existence. For it precludes all rational pre- vision, and as a consequence any regular inter- ference. Still we may hope to discover, for each of the more important cases, empirical rules which, insufficient from the theoretic point of view, may be sufficient to keep us from disorderly action. In the midst of this growing divergence, the dogma of Humanity gives unity to our conceptions, the only unity that can be given, the only bond that we really need. To form a right conception of the nature and formation of this unity, you must distinguish three kinds of laws, physical, in- tellectual, and moral. The first, by their nature, belong to the sex adapted for action; the last to the sex in which affection is predominant. The intermediate laws are the peculiar province of the priesthood. Its task is, to reduce to a system the joint action of the two sexes, and so it shares the life of both. The priesthood is both active and affective, though not so active as practical men, not so affective as women. Hence it is that the physical THE DOCTRINE. 163 and moral laws have always been cultivated em- pirically. The physical and moral wants of men must be met. But the success attained was widely- different in the two cases. Physical laws are, in reality, independent of moral laws. Within the province, then, of physical laws, men could arrive at isolated convictions which, though incoherent, were firm. On the contrary, as moral laws cannot be indepeodent of physical laws, women, in this their peculiar province, could construct no system of real stability. Their efforts were only valuable for their influence on the affections. Naturally, then, it was within the sj^here of physical laws that sound theoretical cultivation originated; and it was attainable by keeping clear of the details of action. As, however, moral laws are the ultimate object of all sound meditation, a logical and scien- tific unity was unattainable, unless some adequate connexion of physics and morals could be found. The intermediate domain, naturally connected with each of the two, offers the only bond of connexion. So, ultimately, the construction of a true theoretic unity depends on a sufficient elaboration of the peculiar laws of man's under- standing. The Woman. — Your conclusion seems a difficult one to get at ; yet I feel no difficulty, my father, in at once admitting it. In meditating on moral sub- jects, I have often been led to feel that a knowledge of the laws of the intellect is indispensable. Con- sistent action seems hopeless without it. For the m2 164 SECOND PART. peculiar laws of the function that judges are in- separable from those of the function that is judged. Men, however, would be less sensible of this con- nexion in the case of the physical laws which form the especial object of men's attention. As, then, I admit your conclusion, you may pass on, without further preamble, to the direct exposition of these laws of the mind on which all systematic unity depends. The Priest. — These laws, my daughter, I must at once, here as elsewhere, class under two heads. They are statical and dynamical, according as they have reference to the invariable element in the object under consideration, or as they apply to its necessary variations. These two correlative terms are become indispensable to any really serious ex- position of Positivism. It will soon bring them into popular use. Not that they can ever have for your sex the moral attraction, wliich you will soon learn to feel towards the terms objective and sub- jective, the ultimate destination of which is to ex- press in all their shades our sweetest and best emotions. But though purely intellectual, the two former terms must be valued on account of their scientific utility. For the rest, these two pairs of philosophical expressions are the only ones that I am necessitated to require you to accept. The preceding explanation renders it easy for you to see, that in the case of any department whatever of human study, the statical question necessarily precedes the dynamical. This last is impossible THE DOCTRINE. 165 without the other. It is absolutely necessary, in fact, to have determined what are the fundamental conditions of any existence, before you can pass to the consideration of the different states in which that existence successively appears. The ancients, seeing as they did no tendency to change anywhere, were completely without any dynamical concep- tions, even in mathematics. Whereas Aristotle, the eternal prince of all true philosophers, was able even then to lay down the laws essential for the study of all the highest branches of knowledge, life, intellect, and society, so far as such study was statical. Such is the necessary course of things — the statical must precede the dynamical, but it is incomplete without the dynamical. A merely sta- tical appreciation can never be anything but pro- visional, it cannot form a competent guide for action. If it stood alone, it ^vould lead us in action into serious errors, especially in the more important cases. The statical law of our understanding is, in Positivism, simply an application of that funda- mental principle of the system which looks on man as in all cases subordinate to the world. In fact, it consists in the constant subordination of our sub- jective constructions to the objective materials of those constructions. The genius of Aristotle sketched it in outline in his admirable general statement : — There is 7iothing in the understanding that did not originally spring from sensation. The moderns often pressed this axiom too far. They represented our 166 SECOND PART. intelligence as purely passive. This compelled the great Leibnitz to acid an essential restriction. The object of that restriction was, definitely to express the spontaneous character of our mental dispositions. Leibnitz' addition, excejyt the understanding, limited in reality to the clearer development of Aristotle's maxim, was completed by Kant. Kant intro- duced the distinction, never to be forgotten, between objective and subjective reality, both equally appli- cable to all man's conceptions. Still the principle had not received its full systematic value. Posi- tivism gave it that value by connecting it with the general law which, in all vital phenomena, considers every organism as in a constant dependence on the sum of external influences. With regard to our highest spiritual functions, equally as with regard to our most corporeal ones, the external world serves us both for nourishment, stimulus, and control. So viewed, the subordination of the subjective to the objective no longer stands isolated, and at the same time Positive Philosophy supplies its necessary complement, without which the study, from the statical point of view, of our intellect, could not have been brought into really close connexion with the dynamical. The complement I mean, consists in recognising the fact that, in the normal state, our subjective conceptions are always less vivid and less clear than the objective impressions from which they rise. \Yere it otherwise, the world without could exert no controlling influence over the world within. THE DOCTKINE. 167 Carry out these two statical principles, and you see that all our conceptions whatever are the neces- sary result of an uninterrupted intercourse between the world and man, the world supplying the mate- rials, man shaping them. They are deeply stamped with the relative character, relative both to the subject and the object. As these vary respectively, so necessarily are the conceptions modified. Our great merit, in the scientific point of view, consists in bringing this natural subordination of man to the world to the highest point of perfection. At this point, the brain becomes the faithful mirror of the actual order of outward things, and the future consequences of that order then admit of prevision, if the powers of the mind are rightly exercised. But the representation of the outward order is not, and is not required to be, absolutely exact. The degree in which it approximates to perfect exactness is determined by our practical wants. They give us the standard of precision desirable for our theoretical previsions. Within this necessary limit, there is generally left for our intellect a certain degree of liberty in speculation. This liberty it should use to secure adequate satis- faction for its own inclinations, whether in the direction of science, or even of the fine arts. This it may do by giving to our conceptions greater regularity, greater beauty even, without in any degree interfering with their truth. Such is, under its mental aspect, Positivism. It is always occupied with the pursuit of laws. It holds its way between 168 SECOND PAHT. two paths of equal danger, that of mysticism, which insists on arriving at causes ; that of empi- ricism, which insists on a rigid adherence to these facts. TJie Woman. — There seems to me, my father, one serious omission in this statical theory of man's intellect. It seems solely to have reference to the state of reason properly so called. It does not seem capable of embracmg madness ; and yet it ought to explain this not less than the other. Actual life, as we daily see it, offers us so many nicely shaded degrees between these two states of mind, that all the cases ought to obey the same laws essentially. The only difference ought to be one of degi'ee, as in the case of our bodily func- tions. Tlie Priest. — A more attentive consideration of the doctrine set forth will enable you, my daughter, to see that it does really contain the true theory of madness and of idiocy. These are two extreme states of the mind, and each violates the due pro- portion which the sound state, or reason, requires to exist between the objective impressions and the subjective conceptions. Idiocy consists in the excess of objectivity. In it our brain is too passive. Madness, properly so called, consists in the excess of subjectivity, and is the consequence of an undue activity of the brain. The mean state itself, in which reason consists, varies according to the regular variations to which human existence in every form is subject, whether it be the society or the individual. THE DOCTRINE. 169 To form a sound judgment on madness is a most delicate oj)eration, tlie more so as we mu^t take into account time and place, and generally difference of situation, as is so clearly shown by the admirable composition of the gi-eat Cervantes. It is in reference to madness that we gain the clearest per- ception of the extent to which the statical study of the intellect remains incomplete, if it do not receive the complement of the dynamical study. The Wojnan. — I would follow up this striking reflection, my father, and if you think proper, I would at once enter on this dynamical study, as the complement of the statical. For it aj^pears, that without it I cannot by my own meditations form a proper conception of the whole of the great si^ectacle offered me by the intellect. The opinions of men may vary, but it can never in any case be to the degree of becoming purely arbitrary, though I may not be able in any way to trace their general line of march. The Priest. — Every theoretical conception passes necessarily thi'ough three successive stages. The first is the theological, or fictitious. The second, metaphysical, or abstract. The third, positive, or real. The first is always provisionah The second simply transitional. The third alone is definitive. The difference of this last from the two former is characterized by its substitution of the relative for the absolute, when at length the study of laws has taken the place of the inquiry into causes. There is, at bottom, no other difference between 170 SECOND PART. the two others, in point of theory, than this : that the deities recognised by the first are reduced by the second to mere entities, or abstractions. The fictions of theology, in consequence of this trans- formation, lose, together with their supernatural cha- racter, their strength and consistency. They become socially useless, and even mentally ; metaphysics are at last nothing but simply a solvent of theology. They can never organize even within their own domain. Metaphysics are revolutionary in their character, and solely adapted for modifying previous systems. They have no other effect, in the original evolution, whether of the individual or of society, but to facilitate the gi-adual passage from theology to Positivism. They are the better suited for this transitional office, from the circumstance that their equivocal conceptions can take one or other of two shapes. They may become either the abstract representatives of supernatural agents, or general expressions for phenomena, according as the ficti- tious, or the real stage in our progress, is the one to which we are, for the time, the nearer. The Woman, — This dynamical law finds already sufficient confirmation in my own experience. Still, my father, I desire to obtain as clear a view as pos- sible of the intellectual principle on which this evolution rests. The Priest. — That principle, my daughter, is a consequence of the statical law by which we are obliged to draw upon ourselves for the means of subjectively connecting our objective impressions. THE DOCTRINE. 171 Without tliis subjective connexion, these last would always be incoherent. The real relations of things require, for their perception, a difficult and gi-adual analysis, as I will explain to you; and therefore our first hypotheses were such as naturally suggested themselves, consequently they were of a fictitious character. This general tendency, which would now be an excess of subjectivity, was at first quite in conformity with our mental state. For the evolution could not begin unless some step of the kind were taken. Long experience — an experience which, however long, is even now not enough for the more backward — could alone show us the abso- lute uselessness of the inquiry into causes. This useless problem exercised for a long time an in- vincible attraction, both in speculation and in action. In the former, it tempted us by the promise that we should always use the deductive method without requiring any special induction. In action, it held out to us the prospect of modify- ing the world at pleasure. This shows us that the two motives which originally impelled the thinker, are essentially coincident with those which will always guide us in our intellectual eflPorts. For the whole of sound logic is reducible to this one rule : always form the simplest hypothesis compatible with the whole of the data. Now the thinkers of the theological period, and even of the period of fetichism, applied this rule better than the greater part of our modern doctors. Their object being to arrive at causes, they limited themselves to explain- 172 SECOND PART. iug the world by man, tlie only possible source of any theoretic unity. And their explanation con- sisted in attributing all its phenomena to the action of superhuman will. It was indifferent whether that will resided in the phenomena or was external to them. The problem they set themselves admits, by its very nature, only this solution — a far superior one to the misty fictions offered as solutions by our atheists or pantheists, whose state of mind is far nearer madness than the simplicity of the true fetichist. The respective results of the two are enough to prove the superiority of the earlier solu- tion. German ontology is at the present day throwing itself, by a retrograde movement, on its Greek original. It has inspired no real and durable thought. The primitive theology, on the contrary, opened up to the human mind the only path which it could take under the conditions of the primitive state. True, it never could lead to any determina- tion of causes, but its provisional colligation of facts led, by a natural process, to the discovery of laws. The study of laws was at first looked on as of quite secondary importance. It soon tended, how- ever, to become the most important, owing to the impulse derived from our practical wants. It was seen to be more adapted for the prevision requisite for action. In strictness, minds of real eminence never sought for the cause except when they found it impossible to find the law. In this case, no blame can attach to the course they adopted — it was more THE DOCTRINE. 173 suited, than any torpor of the intellect could have been, to prepare the way for the ultimate discovery of the law. Our intelligence has even such a strong preference for Positive conceptions, especially on the ground of their superior practical value, that it often exerted itself to substitute them for the fictions of theology, long before the preparation required had been duly made. The opening period of our mental evolution is clear. The end which it will ultimately reach is still more free from doubt. The Woman. — The explanation you have given of your law of the three states leaves me, my father, on many points in a mist. For there are cases of frequent occurrence, in which the human mind seems to me at one and the same time to be theological, metaphysical, and positive, according to the nature of the question on which it is en- gaged. Leave this co-existence of the three unex- plained, and you compromise directly your dyna- mical law, which however appears to admit of no dispute. Would you set me free from this state of perplexity ? The Priest. — It will disappear, my daugliter, if you will pay attention to the unvarying order observed by our theoretical conceptions in their simultaneous growth, according as the phenomena, with which they are concerned, decrease in gene- rality and increase in complication. Hence results a complementary law, without which the dynamical study of the mind of man would continue obscure, and even of no value in application. It is easy for 174 SECOND PART. you to see, that as phenomena are necessarily more simple the more general they are, the speculations which concern such general phenomena must be easier, the progress in them naturally more rapid. That there is a graduated scale of phenomena and speculation is easily verified even in the different phases of theologism. It is more especially true of the positive stage, on account of the laborious pre- paration that stage requires. So you see how cer- tain theories remain in the metaphysical stage, whilst others of a simpler nature have already reached the positive stage ; others again, still more complicated, remain in the theological stage. But never do you find this process inverted, a sufficient answer to the objection arising from their disparity at any one time. The order, which I have just shown to exist between our different conceptions, is the natural one. From it I shall shortly deduce the true ency- clopedic scale. By its aid alone can we thoroughly understand the general course of our conceptions. It is the basis of logic, for it reveals to us the con- nexion in which our different theoretical studies must follow one another, if they are to lead to any permanent construction. Each class of phenomena has, it is true, its special laws, which presuppose some particular inductions. Yet these inductions could never be of any real value were it not for the deductions previously supplied by the knowledge of simpler laws. This subjective subordination is the result of the objective dependence of the less THE DOCTRINE. 175 general phenomena on those- which are more general. So the unbroken series of our studies, beginning with the world and ending in man, rests on two grounds. First, for our logical training it is better to begin with the simplest speculations. Secondly, in the order of science, the higher theories are dependent on the lower, the conse- quence of the subordination of the higher pheno- mena to the lower. The Woman. — You have now, my father, made clear to me the laws of our intellect, dynamical as well as statical. But as yet I do not see springing from them the construction I had expected. I had looked on them as forming the basis for the con- struction of the whole system of Positive doctrine. What I want then, is to be made to see directly that Humanity, as an all-pervading idea, can bring all our theories into real unity, by connecting moral and physical laws through the intermedium of the intellectual. The, Priest. — Your wish is a just one, my daughter, and shall be satisfied. Place yourself at a new point of view, and from it consider the com- plementary law of the intellectual movement which I have just stated. From this point of view, the law is, in an especial degree, subjective, as must be the law of which it is the complement. But you are aware also, that the classification I adopt ad- mits, by its own force, of an objective application. For it determines the general interdependence of the several phenomena. Judged from this new point 176 SECOND PART. of view, it receives a statical destination in the main, and serves to characterize, not the co-existence of different rates of progress in our theoretical con- ceptions, but the order ultimately observed by all events whatsoever. Thus the law of classification is entirely distinct from that of filiation. The simultaneous discovery of the two is sufficiently explained by their close connexion. Before T enter on my exposition of this great theoretical hierarchy, I must draw out with suf- ficient accuracy the general limits of its extent. These limits are, in reality, fixed by the true philo- sophical distinction between speculation and action. Action must, of necessity, always be special ; true theory is always general. But it never can acquire this, its proper character of generality, except by the aid of a previous abstraction, which always more or less impairs the reality of its conceptions. The fact that this is impaired may have great danger in practice. We must resign ourselves however to this evil, to secure the coherence which can only be secured by our laws of theory keeping this character of absolute imiversaUty. It is a maxim of common sense, that every rule has its ex- ception. Still, our intellect always stands in need of universal rules, as the only means of avoiding an indefinite vacillation. The only way of attaining this is to break up, as far as possible, the study of beings, which alone can generally be objects of direct study, into several separate studies. The object of these will then be THE DOCTRINE. 177 the various general events, which compose the ex- istence of each being. By this method we obtain abstract laws, which we can combine. And their different combinations then explain each concrete existence. These laws are very numerous, but they admit of no reduction, and they are the only accessible source of speculative wisdom. But nu- merous as they are, they are much less numerous than the special rules which depend on them. These last, putting aside their number, will from their natural complication defy all our best efforts, either for induction or deduction. But on the other hand, to know them would be really useless, except in the rare cases in which they influence our destiny. For these exceptional cases the genius of practical men, the only competent authority in such matters, may always find empirical rules sufficient for its guidance, by availing itself of the general indications furnished by the philosophical class. The compound events in question are really subject to regular laws. This is a necessary consequence of the position, that the general elements of which they are compounded are subject to such laws. It may not be so easy to see it in the former case as in the latter, but it is a fact, as observation will show, if directed on the point for a sufficient length of time. For instance, we shall never know the general laws of the variations peculiar to the regular con- stitution of the atmosphere. Yet the sailor and the agiiculturist can, from their observations of the 178 SECOND PART. locality or the weather, draw special rules, which, though empirical, supersede any necessity for the so-called science of meteorology. The case is the same with all the other concrete branches of study, such as geology, zoology, and even sociology. What- ever is inaccessible to the practical genius of man will always remain a matter of mere idle curiosity. Science then, in its proper sense, is necessarily ab- stract. The general laws it establishes for the few categories under which all observable phenomena may be brought, are sufficient to demonstrate the existence of concrete laws, though most of such laws neither can nor need be known, except for practical purposes. The Woman. — I catch a glimpse, my father, of the very great simplification allowed in your philo- sophical construction by this fundamental analysis, which recalls us from the study of beings to that of events. But I feel frightened at the constant abstraction required by such a scientific regime, though fortunately I am exempt from it. It seems to me beyond the power of man's intellect, if all phenomena, of all orders, are to be directly studied in the Great Being in whom alone we find them all combined. TJie Priest. — For your comfort, my daughter, we will consider, under a new aspect, the general prin- ciple of the hierarchy of abstract science. Directly, it establishes only the subordination of events ; in- directly, it should lead to that of beings. For phenomena are only more general by virtue of their THE DOCTRINE. 179 belonging to more numerous orders of existence. The simplest of all are found everywhere, but we must study them in beings, where they are the only ones we can study, and where therefore their study is more easy. In strict truth, the first step in theory can never be taken distinct from the second. This, more than the actual nature of the phenomena, is especially the cause of the increase in complica- tion. But whatever be the amount of the succes- sive accumulations, each fresh categoiy of events may be studied in beings independent of all the succeeding categories, though they are dependent on the preceding. The previous knowledge of these will enable us to concentrate oiu- attention on the new class brought under our notice. Even sup- posing the beings indivisible, yet, if they exist in dijfferent states, the Positive method vnll keep, in greatest part, its efficiency, and this condition can- not fail, by the very nature of the classification adopted. Thus the theoretical hierarchy that I am going to set forth, though its original purpose was to furnish a scale of phenomena, necessarily consti- tutes the true scale of beings, or, at any i^te, of existences. It becomes by turns abstract or con- crete, according as its purpose is subjective or ob- jective. This is the reason why the encyclopedic subordination of the arts essentially coincides with that of the sciences. The Woman. — Before you proceed, my father, to the exposition of this hierarchy, the general principle of which I begin to see, would you explain x2 180 SECOND PART. to me tlie general outline of our course ? To cement the union wliicli fundamentally exists between the world and man, it would seem that it might take either as its starting point, whilst the other should be its end. The habitual use of such a method seems even to require that it should be able, like every other scale, to become indifferently an ascend- ing or descending one. But perhaps this general principle does not hold good in our construction. The Priest. — The regular concurrence of these two methods, the one objective, the other sub- jective, is no less necessary, my daughter, in form- ing, than in applying, the hierarchy of science. The process of its spontaneous elaboration depended on the first; its systematic institution requires the second. The initiation of each individual must, in this as in every other important point, be essentially the reproduction of the evolution of the race, with this exception, that for the future we shall do con- sciously what was formerly done blindly. It is only by combining these two methods, that we can se- cure the advantages of both and neutralize their dangers. To ascend from the world up to man, without having previously descended from man to the world — such a course renders you liable to the excessive cultivation of the lower branches of study, by putting out of sight their real scientific destina- tion. Our scientific efforts are in this case wasted on university follies, as adverse to the intellect as to the heart. The right connexion of the whole, and the proper estimation of the several parts, are THE DOCTRINE. 181 sacrificed to reality and clearness. Still, this was the course necessarily adopted by abstract Positi\4sm, during the long scientific introduction which begins with Thales and Pythagoras and ends with Bichat and Gall. It was necessary, in order to elaborate in succession the different sciences; the ma.terials, that is, for our ultimate systematization. During that period, the higher wants of our intellect re- ceived but an imperfect satisfaction, under its heterogeneous guardians, theology and metaphysics. But at the present day, when the principle of an universal synthesis is definitively established, as the result of tliis immense preparatory movement, the subjective method, become at last as positive as the objective, must itself take a direct initiative in our encyclopedic construction. \Ye must look to it to originate the construction, the other must work it out. And this rule is as applicable to each great branch of scientific research, as it is to the whole system of the sciences. The Woman. — You see me then ready, my father, to follow you as you show how the doctrine of Humanity gives a religious sanction to each of the several essential branches of abstract science, as they successively come forward ; and how, by bring- ing them all into connexion, it gives strength to the highest and ennobles the lowest. The Priest. — To get a more adequate conception of this synthesis, you must, my daughter, remember at the outset the constant end of human life. That end is to preserve and to perfect the Great Being, 182 SECOND PART. whom we must at once know, love, and serve. Each, of his own spontaneous action, accomplishes these three offices. Religion systematizes them by- its doctrine, its worship, its life. The philosophical construction is necessarily prior to the two others; it is, however, ultimately destined to consolidate them and to develope them. In itself, the study of Humanity is as liable to degenerate as the lower sciences are, if we forget that the only object of our knowing her is that we may love her more and serve her better. If we suffer ourselves to be diverted by the means fi'om a due appreciation of, or care for, the end, our systematic growth becomes really of less value than the natural growth of mankind in general. Thus you see why, at the highest point of the encyclopedic scale, I place Moral Science, or the Science of the individual Man. The functions of the Great Being require for their exercise, ulti- mately, individual organs. These organs must be studied, therefore, at the outset, in order that the service they owe may be properly rendered during the period of their objective existence. On the due rendering of this ser\4ce will depend their subjec- tive influence. Under this form, Positivism adojots and strengthens the primary precept of the primi- tive theocracy : know thyself, to better thyself. In Positivism, the intellectual principle and the social motive act in concert. As a fact, Morals, the most useful of all the sciences, is also the most complete, or rather it is the only one which is complete, THE DOCTRINE. 183 since its phenomena subjectively embrace all the other, though, by that very fact, they are objectively subordinate to those others. The fundamental principle of the scientific hierarchy gives a direct predominance to the moral point of view as the most complicated and special. But at this point, the philosophical conformity of Positivism with theology necessarily ceases. Theo- logy, always occupied with the study of causes, placed the study of morals under the immediate control of the supernatural principles by which it explained everything. Moral observation became thus solely the obser- vation of oneself. And a sanction was given to our pei^onality or selfishness. For we were brought each of us into direct connexion with an infinite power, and thus isolated entirely from our race. Positivism, on the other hand, never seeks for a law but as a guide for action, is always in its very essence social, and bases moral science far more on the observation of others than of oneself, with the view of forming conceptions on moral subjects which shall be at once real and useful. If so, we may feel how impossible it is properly to enter on the study of morals without a previous study of society. In all respects, each of us depends entirely on Hu- manity, especially with regard to our noblest func- tions. These are always dependent on the time and place in which we live, as you are reminded by the fine verses in Zaire — 184 SECOND PAKT. J'eusse et6, pres du Gauge, esclave des faux dieux, Chretienne dans Paris, Musulmane en ces lieux. I had been, by the Ganges, the slave of false gods, Christian in Paris, Mussulman where I am. Thus you see how it is that Morals, to which we assign the highest rank, proceed at once to insti- tute Sociology. The phenomena of the latter science are both simpler and more general, as we should expect, looking to the general spirit of the Positive Hierarchy. The Woman. — Allow me, my father, to stop you a moment at this step. It seems to me to involve a contradiction between the two conditions of your classification, a contradiction I should wish solved. The case before us seems to me an exception to our rule ; the phenomena seem to become at once more complicated and more general. I have always thought the moral point of view simpler than the social one. TJie Priest. — That is solely, my daughter, because you have hitherto proceeded on feeling rather than on reason. For Morals must, for your sex, be rather an art than a science. If we were to compare the two sciences merely with reference to the number of cases they respectively embrace, you would see that the number of individuals is greater than that of nations. It is this last, however, which absorbs your attention. But, limiting our- selves to the complication inherent in each science, considered in itself, you forget that moral science must take into account the same influences as social THE DOCTRINE. 185 science does, and that over and above these it must appreciate impulses which social science may set aside as inappreciable. I mean the influences of the mutual action of the physical and moral nature of man — an action which is constant, though its laws are as yet too little known. They have great influence on the individual, but sociology pays no particular attention to them, and for this reason : the opposite results produced in diflerent indivi- duals cancel one another when you come to con- sider nations. But if, on the contrary, in our moral judgment we should neglect such mutual action, we should be liable to the most serious mistakes ; we might attribute to the soul what proceeds from the body, or vice versa, a matter of daily occurrence. The Woman. — I now see, my father, what I did not see, and therefore stopped you at the outset of your hierarchical series. Would you now return to it 1 You need not fear any further interruption till the end, for any interruption would prevent my master- ing the general filiation. The Priest. — Your objection, my daughter, was in itself a very natural one, and it answers the pur- pose, in the present case, of bringing into greater prominence our first step in the encyclopedic con- struction. This first step is the type necessarily of all the others. We shall be able to get over those others more easily, as is the case with any scale whatever. I hope that you will find no difficulty in descending from one science to the next. We 186 SECOND PART. take as our guide the j)rinciple which has just led us from moral to social science ; we look, that is, to the natural subordination of the respective pheno- mena of the two sciences under consideration. This fundamental principle makes you feel at once, that, for the systematic study of society, you require a previous knowledge of the general laws of life. As nations are beings gifted in an eminent degree with life, the natural result is, that the order of life governs that of society. The statical con- dition of society, and its dynamical progress, would be deeply impaired, were the constitution of our brain or even of our body to change in any notice- able degree. In this case, the simultaneous increase in point of generality and simplicity admits of no doubt. Thus sociology, which was constituted by moral science, constitutes in its turn Biology, which has, moreover, direct relations with the master science. Biology studies life only in so far as it is common to all the beings which enjoy it. Animals, therefore, and plants, form its proper province, though it is ultimately destined for the service of man. The true study of man, however, it can only sketch in a rude outline. From this point of view. Biology, if wisely pursued, is occu- pied with the study of our bodily functions by the light derived from the study of animals and plants. In these, the bodily functions are seen cleared of all higher complications. This direction given to Biology for logical purposes, may at times tend to ex- pose it to an academic degeneracy. It may be led THE DOCTRINE. 187 to lay too much stress on insignificant beings or acts. If so, philosophy must step in with its dis- cipline to recall it to its true vocation. But it must not fetter the inquiries indispensable to its success. These first three sciences are so closely connected that I make the name of the middle one stand for the whole, in the encyclopedic system, which I have arranged in a tabular form {see Plate B, at the end of Catechism), to render it easy for you to judge the general scheme of the Positive hier- archy. For sociology may be easily looked on as absorbing into itself biology, as its introduction; morals, as its conclusion. When the word Anthro- pology shall be in more common and sounder use, it w^ill be a better name for the three sciences which collectively have man as their object, as its literal meaning is the study of man. But for a long time it will be necessary to use the word Sociology, in order to mark the principal characteristic supe- riority of the new intellectual regime, which con- sists most particularly in the introduction into our encyclopedic construction of the social point of view, regarded as absolutely alien by the earlier synthesis. Living beings are of necessity bodies, and as such, spite of their greater complication, they always obey the more general laws of matter. These laws exercise an invariable predominance over all the peculiar phenomena of living beings, leaving them, however, their spontaneous action. A third step towards 188 SECOND PART. our encyclopedia, in perfect analogy witli tlie pre- ceding ones, places biology, and consequently social and moral science, in dependence on the great science of inorganic matter to which I have given the name of Cosmology. The real domain of this science is the general study of the planet on which man lives, the necessary sphere of all the higher functions, vital, social, and moral. A better name would then be Geology^ for this conveys the required meaning directly. But our academical anarchy has so destroyed the natural sense of the word that Posi- tivism must renounce its use, until, as will shortly be the case, the pretended science to which it is applied be got rid of off the list. When that is the case, we shall be able to follow more closely the laws of language, and apply to the whole study of inorganic beings a more exact denomination, — one which by its concrete nature is calculated better to remind us that we ought to study each existence in its least complicated form. This should be the limit of my encyclopedic operation, and there should be no decomposition of cosmology, had I in view only the final state of man's reason. In that final state the inferior sciences must be kept in narrower bounds, the higher have their bounds enlarged. But at present I must provide for the special wants of the initia- tion of the West. We shall find essentially similar wants recur in the development of each individual. For these two reasons, I feel bound to divide cosmo- logy into two fundamental sciences. The first of THE DOCTRINE. 189 these, under tlie general name of Physics, has for its object the direct study of the whole order of matter. The other, simpler and more general, has justly received the name of Mathesiatics. It is the necessary basis of Physics, and, as such, of the whole scientific edifice. It is so as it treats of the most universal form of existence, viewed in relation solely to the phenomena which are found every- where. Without this division of cosmology, it would be difficult to form a right conception of the spontaneous development of Positive Philosophy. This could only begin by such a study as that of Mathematics, and the gi-eater rapidity with which it grew to perfection, caused it at first to be con- sidered as the only science. Its name reminds us too strongly of this privilege which it originally enjoyed, but which it has long lost. Still the name should be kept. It should not be changed till the type of scientific and logical study which mathe- matics give has exercised a due control over the general difiusion of our encyclopedic laws. When they are generally admitted, then some less vague and better constructed term may be introduced. It should be so chosen as to point out the true domain of the science, and to act as a systematic check on the blind scientific ambition of those who cultivate it in too exclusive a spirit. Be this as it may, you must feel the necessity of descending as far as mathematics to find a natural basis for the encyclopedic scale — a basis which can make the whole system appear but the gradual development 190 SECOND PART. of the good sense of mankiud. Physics are far simpler than the other sciences, but yet not simple enough. The special inductions of physics cannot be reduced to a system without the aid of more general deductions. This is everywhere else the case, only in physics this logical and scientific want forces itself less on the attention. It is only in mathematics that you can proceed to induction without previous deduction. This is a consequence of the extreme simplicity of the phenomena which form the domain of mathematics. In it the pro- cess of induction often escapes notice ; so much so, that our academic geometricians look on them as deductions. So viewed, they are unintelligible, as there is no source to which you can refer them. There is no possibility of forming convictions really proof against attacks, excejjt they are based ulti- mately on mathematics, the eternal foundation of Positive Philosophy. Mathematics will always ne- cessarily be the last link in the chain of the sciences ; the last step of that subjective connexion, guided by which every man of sound intellect and honest heart will at any time be able, as I have just done, to evolve the fundamental series, the five principal steps of our encycledopic construction. The Woman. — It is to the influence of feeliusf upon the intellect to which you have just alluded that I attribute, my father, the ease I find in following you in your construction, so dreaded by me at the outset. The attention of my sex is con- stantly riveted on morality, as the only solid basis THE DOCTRINE. 191 for the influence it claims as its clue. AYe shall always therefore set a high value on securing a systematic foundation for morality, a foundation capable of resisting the sophisms of bad passions. Above all, at the present day, we are struck with terror at the moral ravages attributable to the intellectual anarchy. It threatens, at no distant period, to dissolve all the bonds that bind men together, unless some irresistible convictions step in to prevent the further growth that seems naturally to await it. The true philosopher may therefore feel sure of the secret co-operation and heartfelt gratitude of all women worthy of the name, when he reconstructs morality on Positive foundations, as a final substitute for its supernatural basis, too evi- dently worn out. Women who shall feel, as I do now, the necessity of descending with this object to the most abstract sciences, will appreciate at its proper value the unexpected help that reason at length steps forward to give to love. I now under- stand why your encyclopedic descriptive system, which I mean to study, proceeds in the reverse direction to that adopted in the exposition of which it is the summary. For we must become most familiar with this ascending order, as it is the order which the several Positive conceptions will always observe in their development. The mode you have just adopted of instituting this order obviates, in the main, the repugnance women naturally feel for too abstract a course. For hitherto they have seen it lead but too often to 192 SECOND PART. dryness and pride. Now that I can always keep in siglit and recall the moral object of the whole scientific elaboration, and the moral conditions peculiar to each of its distinct essential phases, I shall have as much satisfaction in ascending as in descending your encyclopedic scale. The Priest. — It will be easy for you, my daughter, to adopt the two methods alternately. For you may remark that, in both directions, the theoretical order will rest on the same principle ; it will, that is, in all cases follow the decrease of generality. All that is required is to refer the fundamental series at one time to the phenomena, at another to our own conceptions, according as it is to be used ob- jectively or subjectively. For in real truth, moral notions comprehend all the others. We arrive at these others by a course of successive abstractions. This it is which constitutes their greater complica- tion. The science of morals, therefore, is more general from a subjective point of view than any of the lower sciences. At the other end of the scale, mathematics are the most general science, solely as being the most simple. As a branch of study, then, they are more general from the objective point of view, less general than any other from the sub- jective. They are the only science applicable to every form of existence within our knowledge, but they also are the science which gives us least know- ledge of the beings with which it deals, for it can only reveal the commonest laws. All the interme- diate sciences ofier, though in a less degree, in both THE DOCTRINE. 193 respects, the same contrast which exists between mathematics and morals. But whether you ascend or descend, in both cases alike, morals, in the ency- cloj^edic course, are the supreme science, as being at once the most useful and the most complete. It is in morals that science, having thrown off by degrees the abstraction that originally characterized it, forms a systematic union with practice. The steps indispensable as preparations have all been taken. The wisdom of mankind, then, systematized by Positivism, will retain the admirable, though equi- vocal term, Morals. In morals alone, the art and the science have one common name — an equivoca- tion which pedants may regret, but which Posi- tivism respects. In this apparent confusion moral science happily finds an equivalent for that which it cannot have. I allude to the discipline which, in all the others, anticipates or corrects the ten- dency to scientific aberrations, a tendency inherent in our intellectual cultivation as we ascend the en- cyclopedic scale. As a rule, we restrict each phase of progress to the degree in which it is necessary for the preparation of the next above it. We re- serve for the skill of the practical man all the details which may be required in any particular case. Spite of the declamations of academicians, it is allowed that a discipline of this nature sanctions every theory of real interest, excluding only such scientific questions as are childish. At the present day, the intellect and the heart alike demand the o 194 SECO>'D PART. suppression of all such. But the rule just stated is not applicable to moral science. For all the others it is most valuable ; but evidently it ceases to apply in the case of the science which stands at the head of the system. Were moral theories as much cultivated as the rest, their gi-eater complication, in the absence of any special discipline, would expose them to more frequent and more dangerous aben^ations. But the heart, in this case, comes forward to guide the intellect. It recalls more forcibly her^ than else- where the universal subordination of theory to practice. It does this by means of the happy am- biguity of the very name, morals. Philosophers ought, in reality, to bring the same dispositions as women to the study of morals; they ought to study them, that is, in order to gain rules for con- duct. Only the deductive science of the philoso- pher should give generality and consistency to the inductions of women. These qualities might other- wise be wanting, and yet they are almost always indispensable to secure the social, or even private, efficacy of moral precepts. The Woman. — We have, then, now constituted the real scientific system. I should be glad, my father, at the close of this long and difficult con- vei-sation, if you would state generally what are the properties of your encyclopedic series, viewed for the future as an ascending series. Under this point of view I shall soon be familiar with it. I can see, without your aid, the moral and intellectual • THE DOCTRINE. 195 dangers inherent in this objective cultivation, so long as it remained uncontrolled by the subjective discipline just explained. So long as this was the case, the fact that the different phases of the scien- tific encyclopedia must be successive, compelled men, in the cultivation of science, provisionally to adopt a system of detail, and to disperse their efforts, in a way which ran directly counter to the essentially general character which theoretical views ought to present. The result was, more especially in the learned, but without the mass being exempt, an increasing tendency, on the one hand, to mate- rialism and atheism ; on the other, to a contempt for the softer affections, and a neglect of the fine arts. I have long been aware that under all these aspects. Positivism, rightly viewed, is perfectly distinct from its scientific preamble, nay, is the best corrective of its tendencies. But I cannot, by myself alone, gain a satisfactory view of those essential attributes of Positivism which I am now to appreciate in the system of your theoretical hierarchy. The Priest. — You may be satisfied, my daughter, with two very important attributes. They corre- spond to the two general objects of the hierarchy of science, the subjective object no less than the objective. Perhaps in this place I had better say, logical and scientific — logical, if the attention is directed mainly on the method, or scientific, if on the doctrine. Under its logical aspect, the encyclopedic series 2 196 SECOND PART. points out the necessary course to be adopted by our scientific education, and secondly, the gradual formation of the true process of reasoning. Mainly deductive in its cradle, that is, in mathematics, for in mathematics the requisite inductions are almost always made spontaneously, the Positive method becomes more and more inductive in proportion as the speculations on which it enters are of a higher order. In this long elaboration, four principal steps must be noticed, the steps at which the grow- ing complication of the phenomena makes us suc- cessively develope observation, experiment, compa- rison, and historical filiation. Take in the point from which we start, mathematics, and then each of these five logical phases naturally absorbs its pre- decessors. This is but the consequence of the natural subordination of the phenomena. Thus the true logic becomes complete, and as complete, sys- tematic, at the point where the rise of sociology necessitates the introduction of the historical method, just as biology had j^reviously introduced the art of comparison, after that physics had sufficiently de- veloped observation and experiment. Fortunately for your sex, its ignorance renders it unnecessary, at the present day, to show by philo- sophical demonstrations, that of which Positivism labours to convince men, — that to learn reasoning, the only way is to reason with certainty and precision on clear and definite matter. Many who are quite aware that to learn an art. you must practise that art, still listen to the sopliists who teach them to reason. THE DOCTRINE. 197 or evea to speak, by reasoning on reasoning, or by speaking about speecb. You were taugbt grammar and perhaps rhetoric, but at least you were spared logic, the most pretentious of the three scholastic studies j and being spared it, your own reason, judiciously trained in the school of your cherished Moliere, was soon able to do justice to the two other classical absurdities. Strengthened as you now are by systematic convictions, you will have no hesitation in treating with proper ridicule the Trissotins who would teach you the art of deduction, without having themselves ever applied deduction in its proper province, mathematics. Each essential branch of the Positive method must always be studied in the particular department of science which gave occasion to its introduction. The Woman. — This first property fortunately has no difficulty for me. I see in it the statement of simple good sense.' So I beg you, my father, to pass on at once to the second general property of your encyclopedic series. The Priest. — Its second property is, my daughter, that it gives us a systematic conception of the whole order of the world, as is indicated by the second heading of my conspectus. From inorganic matter up to morality, each term in the series rises on the basis of its predecessor, in obedience to this funda- mental law, the necessary consequence of the real principle of our hierarchy : The noblest phenomena are, in all cases, subordinate to the lowest. This is the only rule of really universal application dis- 198 SECOND PAET. covered by the objective study of the world and man. But as this law cannot supersede the neces- sity of less general laws, it cannot by itself con- stitute the barren external unity vainly sought by all philosophers from Thales to Descartes. We renounce then the stimulus of this frivolous inquiry, and we find a more valuable substitute in the moral purpose of all our scientific efforts. Still we are glad to trace, for all our abstract doc- trines, an objective bond of union inseparable from their subjective co-ordination. Our practical social experience above all must turn to account such a view of the system of our destinies. Our depen- dence and our dignity become thus connected one with the other, and we shall be better disposed to feel the value of voluntary submission, for on sub- mission depends mainly our moral, and even our intellectual improvement. I would call your attention to the fact, and this must be considered as a complement of the great law above mentioned, that from the practical point of view, it repi-esents the order of the world as increasingly susceptible of modification in propor- tion to the increasing complication of its pheno- mena. Improvement always implies imperfection, and imperfection increases as complication in- creases. But you see at the same time that man's providence becomes more efficient, and has more varied agents at its command. The compensation thus gained is still, doubtless, inadequate, so that the simplest order genei-ally remains the most per- fect, though under a blind guidance. Still, this THE DOCTRINE. 199 general law of the liability to modification places morals as the supreme art in two ways, first by virtue of its superior importance, next because it offers a larger field for wise action on our part. Practice and theory, then, combine to justify the predominance which Positivism systematically allows to morals. The Woman. — Since you have now explained to me sufficiently the whole system of Positive doctrine, I would wish, my father, before leaving you to-day, to know beforehand the object of the two other con- versations you promised me in this second part of your Catechism. I do not see what is left for me to know, as regards the systematic basis of the Universal religion, nor why I may not pass at once to the direct and special study of the system of life. The Priest. — Our conceptions hitherto, my daughter, have been too abstract and too general to make a sufficient impression on you. I must complete them by some less general explanations, of a more concrete and definite character, explana- tions too of which I shall make further use. With- out detaining you at each particular phase of the encyclopedic construction, as will be the case in the new education of the Western world, I shall simply ask you to appreciate separately the two unequal parts which, historically, make up the whole of Positive Philosophy. That philosophy embraces the whole order of the world. It is a natural division to take separately the order of the world external to man, and the 200 SECOND PART. social and moral order of man's world. The first includes cosmology and biology. Under the name of natural philosophy, the term ordinarily used in England, it constituted the scientific domain of the ancients, and even of this domain they could only give a static sketch. Besides that the true scienti- fic spirit did not admit, at that time, of a more com- plete freedom, the state of society was adverse to a premature extension. The result of such exten- sion could only be to compromise the existing order without really aiding ulterior progress. In morals, however, the exceptional genius of Aristotle, after reducing to a system, as far as was possible, natural philosophy, prepared the way for a sound philosophy, by an adequate sketch of the two essential parts of human statics, first the society, then the indi- vidual. So much was he in advance of others, that he was not really appreciated till the Middle Ages, when the provisional separation of the two powers gave a direct impulse to the progress of our most important speculations. But no social impulse, however valuable, could dispense with the necessity of a long scientific preamble. The separate sciences must be worked out before true philosophy could enter into possession of its highest domain. Hence this provisional division of physics from morals lasted on to our own day. By virtue of its still existing, it is under its auspices that we enter the last transitional stage of the reason of the Western world, directed by Positivism. THE DOCTRINE. 201 CONVEESATIOX VII. THE ORDER OF THE EXTERNAL WORLD INORGANIC 3IATTER, LIFE. The Woman. — On studying the conspectus which is the summary of our fundamental conversation, I see, my father, we must have two others, as you promised me at its close, on the subject of the Positive doctrine. My heart must first make me feel the need of each separate science as a means towards the attainment of the end of this im- mense scientific construction ; that end being the systematization of morals. My intellect must now be brought to see how the separate stages of this abstract edifice rise one above the other, from the basis to the summit. I may be content ^vdth this. I need not penetrate within. This systematic ascent is the indispensable complement of the descent which I made under your guidance — a descent necessary as a foundation for the ascent. If the mind of man can really mount by upward steps, almost insensibly, from the lowest mathematical notions to the sublimest moral conceptions, no sight can be more worthy of my admiration. My sex never can follow such a filiation in detail, but it must see in outline that it is possible, in order to be sure that systematic morals can be rested on really safe foundations. Then, the opinion of women will brand, as you wish it to do, the anarchical sophists who, though faith in all theology is abso- 202 SECOND PART. lutely decayed, oppose the substitution of Positive faith. Their object is to secure an indefinite exten- sion of the religious interregnum which they find favourable to their moral unworthiness and their intellectual incapacity. You may then without fear detain me upon the mathematical step, as mathematics, according to you, are the only solid basis for our theory of the world. The marked aversion felt for this study by all our metaphysical make-mischiefs, predisposes me to see that mathe- matics have the efficiency for organization you attri- bute to them. The Priest. — To get a clear conception of mathe- matics, as the logical and scientific basis of the whole edifice of abstract science, it is enough, my daughter, to take an accurate survey of the domain assigned to them in our encyclopedic table. Mathematics study directly universal existence, when reduced to its simplest and consequently lowest phenomena, the j^henomena on which necessarily rest all other real attributes of that existence. These fundamental properties of any being whatever are number, extension, movement. Whatever cannot be con- sidered under these three points of . view can have no existence except in our understanding. But nature shows us many beings of whom we can know nothing beyond the elementary attributes. Such are the stars. They are from their distance only accessible to us by the sight. They admit, therefore, only of mathematical study, quite suffi- cient, it must be allowed, to form a proper guide as THE DOCTRINE. 203 to our true relations towards them. Therefore it is that astronomy will always furnish the most direct and complete application of mathematical science. Still if the general laws of number, extension, motion, could have been studied nowhere but in the heavenly bodies, they never would have been discovered, extremely simple though they be. But as you find them everywhere, they were open to discovery in more accessible cases. We had but to put aside by a series of unconscious abstractions the other attributes of matter which complicated the question. And here let me point out how, under the auspices of our hierarchical principle, we may get the true internal distribution of each great science as naturally as the general co-ordination of the sciences. Mathematics cannot be reduced to less than three constituent parts — the calculus, geometry, mechanics. These three are a progressive series, from the historical no less than the dogmatical point of view, a series essentially analogous to that which is seen on a larger scale in the whole of the abstract system. The ideas of number are certainly more universal and simpler than those even of extension, and these on the same ground, in their turn, pre- cede those of motion. In the case of most of the stars, our real know- ledge cannot extend beyond an accurate enumera- tion. We cannot go so far even as to say what their shape or size is, nor are we concerned with it. Phenomena as well as beings admit the numerical 204 SECOND PART. point of view. It leaves all things indistinct, but it is really the only one universally apj^licable, since none of our thoughts but come under it. It is of course but a rough view, but it may be put to a good use. We may use number to perfect our ideas of harmony and stability. In fact, the best types of these are found in number. And so you see children of themselves begin their initiation in abstract science, by simple speculations in number, long before they begin to think on the attributes of space. As for motion, you easily see the increase of complication and the decrease of generality which make this study the highest part of the domain of mathematics. This is why the Greeks, forward as they were in geometry, never could master even the outline of mechanics, except for some cases of equilibrium. They never had a glimpse of the elementary laws of motion. If we compare these three essential parts of mathematics, we see that the calculus of which algebra, rather than arithmetic, is the principal development, has a logical destination in particular, over and above its peculiar and direct use. Its real essential adaptation is to enlarge to the utmost our power of deduction. The study of extension and of motion acquires, by the introduction of the calculus, a character of generality and coherence, which they could not have unless all their problems were transformed into mere questions of number. From the scientific point of view, on the other hand, THE DOCTRIXE. 205 it is geometry and meclianics which mainly consti- tute mathematics ; for they, and they alone, enable us directly to form our theory of universal existence, viewed as passive in geometry, in action in me- chanics. ]\Iechanics, then, take an important encyclopedic position, as the necessary transition between ma- thematics and physics. The peculiar characteristics of both are found in close combination in mechanics. In them logic is seen to be no longer pm^ely deduc- tive, as it w^as supposed to be in geometry, owing to the extreme facility of making the required in- ductions. In mechanics we begin to feel distinctly the need of an inductive basis; nor is it easy to trace such a basis amongst our concrete observa- tions. ^Ye require it, to allow free scope for the abstract conceptions which are to connect with it the general problem of the composition and com- munication of motion. It was the want of this external foundation wliich prevented mechanics, as a science, from being developed till the seventeenth century. Up to that time, mathematics had only established subjective laws, the only laws which geometry and the calculus reveal, where men do not as yet see that subjective necessarily imply objective laws. These last, however, became the objects of distinct attention, from the great difficulty they presented to the founders of mechanical science. The three fundamental laws of motion are so important and so universal that I must state them here, as the 206 SECOXD PART. best types of true laws of nature, which are nothing but general facts, allowing of no explanation, but serving as the basis of all rational explanations. The prevalence of metaphysics was a great hindrance to their discovery, but the greatest was the inherent difficulty of that discovery. For it was the first capital effort of the genius of induction, enabled at length to discern, in the midst of the commonest events, general relations which had hitherto escaped all the efforts of man's intellectual activity. The fii'st law, discovered by Kepler, is this : all motion is naturally rectilinear and uniform. Hence curvilinear, or any movement which is not uniform, can only be the result of a continuous combination of successive impulses, which impulses maybe either active or passive. The second law, due to Galileo, sets forth the independence of the movements of the bodies that form parts of a system — the inde- pendence, that is, in regard to their movement in common as a system. But this community of move- ment must be complete in velocity as well as in direction. Only on this condition can the particu- lar bodies that combine to form the whole remain in the same state of relative rest or motion, as if their whole were motionless. So this second law is not applicable to rotatory movements. And it was, therefore, from the consideration of such move- ments -that came the faulty objections which it met with on its discovery. Lastly, the third law of motion, that of Newton, establishes that, in every case of mechanical collision, action is always accom- THE DOCTRIXE. 207 panied by equal and coutraiy reaction, provided that, in measuring every change, proper regard be paid to the mass of the bodies brought into contact, as well as to their speed. This third law is the basis of all notions relating to the communication of motion, just as that of Galileo is of those that concern its composition, whilst Kepler's law deter- mines what each motion is separately by its own nature. These three laws together are sufficient to enable us to enter on a deductive solution of the general problem of mechanics, by bringing the more complicated cases under the more simple. In this gi-adual process we avail ourselves of mathematical artifices often difficult to invent. These general laws will be of use to you as giving a direct explanation of numbers of phenomena of daily experience, in the midst of which you live without understanding or even perceiving them. They are eminently fitted to make you feel what it is which constitutes the true genius of science. Finally, you should remark how each one of them naturally ranges itself under a law common to all phenomena whatever, to social and moral quite as much as simply material phenomena. The first law connects with the law of persistence which we trace everywhere. The second connects with the law which recognises the independence of the action of the part as regards the conditions common to tlie whole. By this law, in social questions we find it possible to reconcile order with progress. As for the third, it is at once universally applicable, the 208 SECOND PART. application varying only so far as the influences concerned vary. This philosophical connexion of the three laws of motion completes our estimate of the importance, in an encyclopedic point of view, of mechanics, the last portion of the domain of mathematics. The Woman. — These considerations are so ab- stract and novel, that they naturally, my father, are beyond my grasp for to-day. But I feel that, if allowed time for sufficient reflection, I shall be able to master them. I beg you then to pass on at once to the direct study of the external world. The Priest. — To place this study on its proper philosophical footing, I am compelled, my daughter, to require of you one last efibrt relative to our encyclopedic construction. I gave the name of Physics to the whole of the second cosmological science. You must break up this whole into three great sciences, really distinct one from the other. They are, taken in their ascending order, now becoming familiar to you — first, Astronomy ; next. Physics properly so called, and which keeps the common name ; lastly, Chemistry, as you may find by consulting our synopsis. So the hierarchy of science finally ofiers to your view seven degrees, in the place of the five hitherto recognised. We pass from one form of it to the other, by simply drawing out into fuller detail the second of the five original degrees, just as you lengthen a pocket tele- scope by drawing out its tubes. It is only when you come to apply them, that you will see in each THE DOCTEIXE. 209 case which of the two arrangements you shouhl adopt. For in fact, our fundamental series allows of several different arrangements, according as you contract it or enlarge it, the better to satisfy our different intellectual wants. Only we must never invert the order of succession. The most condensed form allowed is as clearly indicated in the synopsis as the most expanded. At a further stage of your advance you will often reduce the whole encyclo^Dedic bundle to the simply dual form of cosmology and sociology. To do this at first would exj)ose you to vagueness. But beyond this you will never go, so evidently impossible is it to reduce objectively one under the other the two primary groups. The only union possible for them is subjective, attain- able by placing oneself directly at the religious point of view. By the help of very familiar language I have pointed out to you this expansion of the ency- clopedia. I must now give reasons for it. This I do by explaining its nature. The Woman. — I have but a slight knowledge, picked up in conversation, of the three sciences you have just introduced. But I can guess, my father, your reason for intercalating them here. Your doing so anticipates a wish I was on the point of laying before you, as to the continuity of the ency- clopedic series. When comparing in this respect the higher and lower' sciences, the primitive con- struction on the scale of five degrees offered me a 210 SECOND PART. serious disparity. I find it easy, by the simple con- nexion of the phenomena, to see how we rise in- sensibly from biology to sociology, and from soci- ology to moral science, though I still need on this point your special explanations to give greater pre- cision to my ideas. But on the other hand, I found it difficult at fii^st to see how we pass from mathe- matics to the direct study of the order of inorganic matter, still more difficult to see how we passed from cosmology to biology. It is true that this may arise from my more comjDlete ignorance of the lower conceptions. But I felt also that this want of proportion must be connected with the very con- stitution of our scale, as at first constructed, though I could in no way see the remedy, nor even whether there were a remedy or not. I shall find it easy then to accustom myself to the seven encyclopedic steps, if by this slight complication I feel my sense of order gratified. Still I allow, that had you begun with seven at first, I should have felt too great a difficulty in conceiving your abstract hierarchy as a whole. The Priest. — You have rightly guessed the real motive of my final modification. It remains therefore only for me, my daughter, to complete the work of your instinct, by pointing out in a sys- tematic way the nature and object of the three sciences I have introduced. Positive religion defines astronomy as the study of the Earth, as one of the heavenly bodies — that is to say, astronomy is the knowledge of the geome- THE DOCTRINE. '2\l trical and mecliauical relations of the earth to the other stars, so far as such relations can affect our destinies by influencing the state of the earth. We subjectively, then, condense all astronomical theo- ries round our globe as a centre ; and we absolutely reject all theories which, as disconnected with our globe, are by that fact at once mere idle questions, even granting them to be within our reach. This leads us finally to eliminate, not merely the so-called sidereal astronomy, but also all planetaiy studies which concern stars invisible to the naked eye, and which have consequently no real influence on the earth. The true domain of astronomy will now, as at the beginning of things, be limited to the five planets which have always been known, together with the sun, equally the centre of their movements as of the earth's, and the moon, our only satellite in the heavens. The difi'erence between our doctrine and that of the ancients, here, as elsewhere, consists essentially in the substitution of the relative for the absolute, so that a centre which was long objective becomes purely subjective. Hence the discovery, or rather the proof, of the double movement of the earth is the most important of all the revolutions in science that took place whilst human reason was yet in its preliminary state. One of the most eminent pre- cursors of Positivism, the sagacious Fontenelle. enabled your sex to see the philosophical bearing of this revolution, so far as the time admitted, in a charming little work, which, though ajDparently p 2 212 SECOND PART. frivolous, is justly entitled to the immortality it has gained. In fact, the earth's motion rendered the dogmas of Positive science directly incompatible with those of any theological system. For whereas our widest speculations previously might w^ear a character of absoluteness, they became henceforth essentially relative. The discovery of our planetary gravita- tion soon followed. It wa-s the scientific conse- quence of the former, and its philosophical comple- ment. The influence of the two theories on the whole encyclopedic system of science has been greatly checked by the empirical views of our academicians. Positivism finally establishes them as the primaiy general basis for the direct study of the order of the material world, which is thus brought into im- mediate connexion with the mathematical founda- tions of the whole doctrine. In astronomy, the point of view from which we regard the external world is simply that of geometry and mechanics. We put aside all inquiries, as absurd as they are idle, as to the temperature of the stars or their internal constitution. But, when we pass from astronomy to physics properly so called, by an almost imperceptible transition through the intermediate stage of planetary mechanics, we penetrate more deeply into the study of inert na- ture. In order, however, to give a truer idea of this new branch of science, we must first gain a con- ception of the highest cosmological science. It has a more decided character, and so enables us more THE DOCTRINE. 21 3 easily to grasp pure physics, v/hicli are somewhat indefinite if you approach them directly. By adopt- ing this course, our attention is called to one of the most important logical precepts of Positivism, that, viz., which bids us, in all cases, look first to the two extremes if we wish to form a right conception of the intermediate step by which they are con- nected. Chemistry was actually introduced as a distinct science, in the East and in the West, several centuries before physics. Galileo was led by his instinct to create the science of physics, with a view to establish a sound mode of transition from astro- nomy to chemistry, in place of the previous chime- rical connexion. At once to shorten and to simplify my explana- tion of the two, consider Chemistry and Physics as in the main subject to the same general influences. The difference really consists in the greater or less intensity of the modifications which the constitu- tion of matter receives from them. But though this is the only difierence, there is never any room for doubt as to the true nature of each case, spite of the confusion introduced by the schools. At their highest intensity, states of heat, of electricity, even of light, modify the constitution of matter so far as to change the internal composition of substances. In this case, the event is within the department of chemistry, that is, it comes under the general laws of composition and decomposition. In both these processes equally, we can, and ought to, look on the combination as simply binary. The combination 214 SECOXD PART. may be repeated three times in succession. But we can seldom exceed this limit, as the union becomes more difficult and less stable in proportion as it becomes more complicated. At a lower degree of intensity the influences above-mentioned can only modify the condition of bodies, they cannot alter their substance. In this case, matter is studied uuder the strictly physical aspect. The two sciences, physics and chemistry, are equally universal, but the decrease of generality is as sensible as the in- crease of complication, when we pass from the one to the other. For physics, as they study the whole of the properties which make up every material ex- istence, look on all bodies as in kind the same. The only difference is one of degree. The several branches of physics must then correspond to the different senses by which we gain a knowledge of the external world. Chemistry, on the other hand, looks on all substances as in their nature distinct, and it chiefly addresses itself to the problem of de- termining their radical differences. The phenomena which it studies are always possible in any given body. But they are practically never found in it, except under special conditions. The concurrence of these conditions is rare and difficult, so as often to demand the intervention of man. Of these two neighbour sciences, physics are logi- cally the most important, chemistry scientifically. Such is our judgment on their relative encyclopedic value, when we have once allowed the indispensable necessity of both, their theoretical and practical THE DOCTRIXE. 21-3 necessity. It is in physics that the genius of in- duction finds its free career, by the development of observation, which was too spontaneous in astro- nomy, and of experiment, which nowhere else leads to such unequivocal results. But chemistry carries the day as to the encycloj^edic importance of the notions we derive from it. Its extreme imperfec- tion as a science, which can only cease under the discipline of Positivism, has not prevented its throwing a strong light and exercising a powerful influence on the whole reason of Western Europe. Its valuable efficiency in this respect is the result of its general analysis of the inorganic matter in the midst of which we live, gaseous, liquid and solid. And as the complement of this it has performed the equally indispensable analysis of vegetable and animal substances. By this analysis we are enabled to form a conception of the fundamental economy of nature. This was previously unintelligible to us, because we had not proved that the material elements of which all real beings, lifeless as well as living, are composed, are essentially identical. So you may see how chemistry properly so called, is alone competent to form the normal transition between cosmology and biology, the need of which transition you expressed by your wish for unbroken continuity. You would set a still higher value on this great encyclopedic condition, as favourable ultiDiately to the heart as to the intellect, were I to point out the true internal arrangement of astro- nomy, physics, and chemistry, as I did in the case 216 SECOND PART. of mabhematics. But we must keep such develop- ments for more special conversations. They are not immediately indispensable from the religious point of view. Mathematics may serve as a type of the rest. And you may learn from it the general possibility of there being a really gradual ascent from mathematics to morals, by the simple applica- tion, with an ever increasing exactness and detail, of the unchangeable principle of our hierarchy. When you come, after this subjective or logical appreciation, to add to it as a complement an equi- valent objective or scientific appreciation, you can trace in the general succession of the branches of abstract study a real concrete scale, if not of beings, yet of existences. In astronomy you have only the simple mathematical existence. Almost a mere idea previously, in astronomy it becomes a reality in the case of bodies which we can only examine from that point of view, and which are therefore natu- rally the best type of such existence. In physics we rise to phenomena which admit of a more accu- rate and closer examination. We take a decided step onwards towards man. Lastly, in chemistry we deal with the noblest and most widely spread form of merely natural existence. We never how- ever lose sight of its subordination to the previous sciences, as required by our Universal law. Though the great objective conception, which is the result of this progression, can only find an adequate develop- ment in biology, it is important to notice its germ in cosmology, in order thoroughly to master the THE DOCTRIXE. 217 true principle of classification for beings of what- ever order. The Woman. — Looking at this admirable con- tinuity, I see in tlieir true light, my father, the noisy disj)utes which from time to time break out between the different departments of science. My natural predilection, as a woman, for moral explana- tions led me to look on these scientific discussions as, in. the main, attributable to the passions of m.en. I now see a more legitimate origin for them. I ascribe them to the profound uncertainty felt by the different classes of scientific inquirers, as to what are their respective provinces. They have no encyclopedic principles to guide them. And the sciences succeed one another, in such a way, that the transition from one to the other is scarcely per- ceptible. The Priest. — The continuity you admire, my daughter, is the most important philosophical result we have attained by the combined efforts of modern reason. The true object of philosophy is to connect as closely as possible all phenomena and all beings. Practical skill adds completeness to this general result. For our artificial improvements always end in the strengthening and developing the natural connexions established by science. Thus you may begin to see that the spirit of modern philosophy is not exclusively critical, as it is accused of being, and that it substitutes durable constructions for the decrepit remnants of the old doctrine. At the same time, you may already see at this point the 218 SECOND PART. necessary incomjDatibility of Theology and Posi- tivism. It is a consequence of the irreconcileable opposition between laws and supernatural will. What becomes of the wonderful order we have traced, which, by a graduated series, connects our noblest moral attributes with the lowest natural phenomena, if we introduce an infinite power? The capricious action of such a power would allow of no prevision. It would threaten our order at any moment with an entire subversion. The Woman. — Before I attempt to master directly this general continuity, there remains, my father, one great gap to fill up. We have not treated of life. You must now place that before me in a systematic point of view. Whilst descending our encyclopedic series, I saw the natural connexion of the science of life with sociology. But I cannot get to see, as yet, any natural connexion between it and inorganic matter. An impassable abyss seems to me to separate the domain of life from that of death. The Priest. — That you feel this difficulty, my daughter, is in full conformity with the historical progress of the scientific initiation of the race. Scarcely two generations ago, thinkers of real ability were unable to form a clear conception of the con- nexion between life and matter. And yet it is a point of fundamental importance, the capital diffi- culty of all natural philosophy. In the first place, it was natural, on the rise of chemistry, that cosmologists should push on their THE DOCTEINE. 219 study of matter as far as its noblest and most com- plicated phenomena. The next step required was, that biologists should descend to the lowest and simplest functions of life, the only ones that could admit of a direct connexion with the inorganic basis laid by the cosmologist. Such was the most im- portant result of the admirable conception due to the true founder of the philosophy of biology, the incomparable Bichat. By a profound analysis, the most noble vital functions, even in man, were con- sidered by philosophical biology as always resting on the lowest, in obedience to the general law of the order of nature. Animal life is in all cases subordinate to vegetable life ; in other words, the life of relation is subordinate to that of nutrition. This luminous principle leads us to see that the only phenomena, really common to all living beings, are those of the decomposition and recomposition of their substance, which they are constantly under- going from the action upon them of external influ- ences ; in other words, of their milieu. So our whole system of vital functions rests on acts which have a strong analogy with chemical results. The only real difference lies in the greater instability of combination. In the vital phenomena, the compli- cations are also, it should be remembered, more com- plicated. The simple and fundamental life — that in which decomposition and recomposition are the exclusive phenomena — is found only in the vegetable. There it reaches its highest development. For plants can directly assimilate inorganic materials. 220 SFX'OXD PART. and change them into oro-anic substances. This is never the case with higher beings. In fact the general definition of animal life is, that it derives its nourishment from living substances. On this definition, follow, as necessary conditions, the capa- city of discerning these substances and the power of procuring them — consequently sensibility and contractility. To consolidate this, his fundamental analysis of life, the great Bichat was soon compelled to con- struct an anatomical conception which might be at once its complement and its strictest expression. The cellular tissue alone is universal and forms the proper seat of vegetable life. Animal life resides in the nervous and muscular tissues. This con- ception completes the general idea of biology. It ^tablishes a sufficient agreement between its stati- cal and dynamical point of view to enable us to pass, with propriety, from the function to the organ, or from the organ to the function. In obedience to the precept of logic which bids us study all phenomena in the beings where they are most strongly marked and most free from any complication with higher phenomena, the theory of vegetable life becomes the normal basis of biology. It establishes directly the general laws of nutrition by a consideration of the case to w^hich they apply in their simplest and intensest forms. This is the only part of biology which could be absolutely kept separate from sociology, were we for a moment to suppose that a subjective arrangement did not direct THE DOCTRINE. 221 all objective intellectnal cultivation. The theory of vegetable life is the natural transition from matter to life. The Woman. — I see by this, my ftxther, that you are able to establish a continuous series so as to include the lower part of the scientific hierarchy. But when the point of departure is a form of life so low as the simple life of the vegetable, I do not see how we can rise to the true type of life, man, although I quite recognise that man is subject to the laws of nutrition as he is to those of weight The Priest. — The difficulty which you feel, my daughter, is precisely the one attempted to be met by the most important artifice in biology. All biologists from Aristotle to Blainville have, each in turn, contributed to its formation. Their object has been to form an immense scale, at once objective and subjective, destined to connect man with the plant. If the two extremes alone existed, a supposition which in no way involves a contradiction, tlien our scientific unity would become impossible, or at any rate very imperfect, in consequence of the sudden break in our construction. But the immense variety of animal organisms enables us to establish between the lowest form of life and the highest, as gradual a transition as our intelligence can require. Still this concrete series is necessarily not con- tinuous, by virtue of the fundamental law which, while it allows of secondary variations, yet keeps each species permanently distinct. The old intel- lectual system was a great obstacle to the free 222 SECOND PART. growth of our great construction ; for it -vainly en- deavoured to find in this permanence of species the absolute result of objective relations. But the pre- dominance in our encyclopedia of the subjective method puts a final end to all such sterile and end- less debates. In forming the animal series, it takes as its continual guide the true object of that forma- tion — a logical rather than a scientific object. As we only study the animals to gain a sounder know- ledge of man by tracing through them his con- nexion with plants, we are fully authorized to ex- clude from our hierarchy all the species which dis- turb it. An analogous motive enables us, or rather commands us, to introduce into the series, under proper restrictions, some races purely of our own creation, created for the special purpose of facili- tating the more difficult transitions, without any shock to the statical and dynamical laws of animal life. A fuller study of certain animals is really a question of practical utility, in the case of the few species with which the human race finds itself, on various grounds, more or less connected. All other zoological details are but the result of an intellec- tual degeneracy. Biology is, by its complication and vast extent, more than most sciences exposed to scholastic absurdities, so numerous even in mathematics. The animals, which are really links in our chain, will, as a whole, always have for us profound scientific interest. They tend to throw light on the general study of all our lower functions, as we THE DOCTRINE. 223 can, in them, trace each function as it gi^adually becomes more simple or more complicated. Man's existence is really but the highest step in animal life. So the highest notions of sociology and even of moral science have their first germs in biology, for the minds of really philosophical power which are able to detect them. For instance, it becomes easier for us to grasp our sublimest theoretic con- ception, if we learn to look on each species of animals as potentially a Great Being. Actually it is more or less abortive, from the inferiority of its organization, and the growing predominance of man. For a collective or social existence is the form to which the life of relation, which is the characteristic feature of animality, necessarily leads. But this result, which all aim at, cannot, on one and the same planet, be attainable by more than one of the sociable species. The Woman. — From your explanations I see, my father, how biology, when cultivated in a philoso- phical spirit, fills up all the serious gaps in your construction, by forming a gradual transition be- tween the external world and man. This immense progression, at once of beings and phenomena, in constant conformity with the principle of the Positive hierarchy, connects at its lower end with the regular succession of the three essential forms of the existence of matter. I see in it the full realization of that admirable continuity which at fii-st seemed impossible. But before quitting the domain of life properly so called, I should be glad 224: SECOND PART. to know more clearly and precisely its two essential parts, vegetable and animal life. Tlie Priest — You can gratify this reasonable wish, my daughter, by mastering the three great laws which govern each of them. You must look on these laws as so many general facts, subordinate to one another but completely distinct. Taken together, they explain both the continuous func- tions of the life of nutrition and the intermittent functions of the life of relation. The first law of vegetable life, the necessary basis of all our study of life, without any exception for the case of man, consists in the renewal of its sub- stance which every living being constantly requires. This fundamental law is followed by that of growth and decay, ending in death. Death is not in itself the necessary consequent of life, but it is every- where the constant result of it. Lastly, this first biological system is completed by the law of repro- duction, by which the preservation of the species compensates the loss of the individual. The most important property, common to all living beings, is the aptitude each has to produce offspring similar to itself, as it in turn was pro- duced by similar parents. Not merely is it true, that no organic existence ever sprung from inor- ganic nature ; but further, no species of any kind can spring from one of a different kind, either in- ferior or superior. The limits of the exceptions to this rule are very narrow, and are as yet but little known. There is then a really impassable gulf THE DOCTRINE. 225 between the worlds of life and of matter, and even, though less broad, between the different forms of vitality. This view strengthens our position, that any simply objective synthesis is impossible. But it in no way impairs the true subjective synthesis, in every case, the result of a very gradual ascent towards the type of man. As for the three laws of animal life, the first con- sists in the need of alternate exercise and rest w^iich is felt throughout the whole life of relation, with no exception for our noblest attributes. This in- termittence, which is the characteristic of the animal functions, is naturally connected with the beautiful observation of Eichat on the constant symmetry of the organs answering to those functions. Half of each organ can be in action whilst the other half remains passive. The second law, which here, as elsew^here, presupposes the preceding one, without being a consequence from it, proclaims the tendency of each of these intermittent functions to habitual exercise — that is to say, the function has an inhe- rent tendency to reproduce itself spontaneously when the original impulse has ceased. This law, the law of habit, finds its natural complement in that of imitation, nor are the two really distinct. According to the profound remark of Cabanis, the aptitude to imitate others is but the result of the aptitude to imitate oneself, at least in every species capable of sympathy. Lastly, the third law of animal life, in subordination to that of habit, con- sists in the capability of improvement both in the Q 226 SECOND PART. statical and dynamical point of view, inherent in all the phenomena of relation. In all alike, exercise strengthens the functions and organs, prolonged disuse tends to Aveaken them. This last law rests on the two others, but is distinct from them. It sums up the whole theory of animal life, as you at once saw was the case with the last law of vege- table life. By a combination of these two great laws, each the last of its respective series, you form a seventh law of life, that of hereditary transmission. This deserves a distinct scientific appreciation, although logically, it is only a necessary consequence of the preceding laws. As every function or structure in the animal world is perfectible up to a certain point, it is clear that every living being's capability of reproducing its like may fix in the species the mo- difications which have taken place in the individual, supposing those modifications to have taken suffi- cient root. It follows that there is a power of im- provement, limited but continuous, dynamical in the main, but also statical, in every race whatever, each generation in succession contributing its quota. This important faculty, in which the two systems of biological laws find a natural expression, is sus- ceptible of greater development in proportion as the race is higher. For by being higher it more readily admits of modifications, as it is also more active by virtue of its greater complication. Although the general laws which regulate here- ditary transmission are as yet too little known, the THE DOCTPJ^'E. 227 above considerations indicate its liigh efficacy as re- gards the direct amelioration of man's nature, his phy- sical, intellectual, and above all his moral nature. It is an indisputable fact that hereditary transmission is as applicable, or even more applicable, to our noblest attributes as to our lowest. For phenomena become more susceptible of modification, and consequently of improvement, in proportion as they are by nature higher and more special. The valuable results obtained in the principal races of domestic animals convey but a faint idea of the improvements which are reserved for the most eminent species, under the systematic guidance of its own provi- dence. The Woman. — This general conclusion of the study of life makes me fully see its theoretical and practical importance. I feel now ready to study directly the order of man's world, reserved for our last conversation on the doctrine of Positivism. TJte Priest. — You may, my daughter, find it useful to sum up, under its most important philo- sophical asj^ect, our present conversation. You may do it by merely contrasting, as you see is done in our synopsis, the two divisions of Positive Philo- sophy, the historical and doctrinal divisions. In the historical division, the one adapted for the initiation alike of the individual or the society, we place biology in close connexion with cosmology. In the doctrinal, which represents our ultimate state, on the contrary, we combine biology with sociology. The contrast brings out clearly the Q 2 228 SECOND PART. most important cliaracteristic of the order of life, as the natural connecting link in the series between the world of matter and the world of man. CONVERSATION VIII. MAN — FIRST, AS A SOCIAL, SECONDLY, AS A MORAL BEING. The Woman. — Before we enter on the highest province of science, I must draw your attention, my father, to a general difficulty. It is the outcome of the metapliysical objections I have often heard urged against the extension of the Positive doctrine to this province, an extension on which its success depends. To subject social and moral phenomena to invariable laws of the same nature as the laws to which the phenomena of life and matter are subjected — this is represented by certain reasoners as incompatible with the liberty of man. These objections always seemed to me simply sophistical, yet I never knew how to meet them. They influ- ence far too many, and act as a check on their natural inclination to adopt Positivism. The Priest. — It is easy, my daughter, to over- come this preliminary difficulty by a direct state- ment of the nature of true liberty. Liberty, in its true sense, is in no way incom- patible with the order of things. On the contrary, in every case liberty consists in obeying, without any hindrance, the laws which in each case ai'e THE DOCTRINE. 229 applicable. AY hen a body falls, it shows its liberty, * by moving according to its nature towards the centre of the earth, with a velocity proportionate to the time, unless the interference of a fluid modi- fies its natural action. So in the department of life, every function, vegetable or animal, is said to be free, if it exerts itself according to the laws applicable to its case, without any hindrance from within or from without. The intellectual and moral existence of man admits of the appjication of the same principle. Tliis is seen directly in the case of our action, but if true of our action it becomes at once necessary for the motor of our action, that is, our affection ; necessary also for that which guides our action, our reason. If liberty for man consisted in his obeying no law, such liberty would be even more immoral than absurd, for it would make every system of life im- possible for the individual or for the society. Our intellect then most fully evidences its liberty when it fulfils that which is its vocation, in its normal state — when it becomes, that is, the faithful mirror of the world without, in spite of the physical or moral impulses w^hich might have a tendency to disturb its action. No one can refuse an intellectual assent to demonstrations which he understands. Nay more, no one can reject the opinions which are generally received by those among whom he lives, even though he do not know the foundation on which they rest, granting that he have no previous belief of the contrary. For instance, we might 230 . SECOND PART. challenge the proudest metaphysicians to deny the earth's motion, or doctrines of still more recent origin; and yet they have no knowledge whatever of the scientific proofs of such doctrines. It is the same in respect to moral order. It would be one mass of contradictions, nay the very idea of it would be contradictory, were it possible for every one, at his own good pleasure, to hate when he ought to love, or vice versa. The will admits of a liberty similar to that of the intellect. The will is free, when our good instincts acquire such ascendancy that our affection can do its proper work, and, by its impulse, enable us to overcome our bad instincts, the egoistic motors. Thus in every case equally, true liberty is inherent in, and subordinate to, the order which prevails, whether for man, or in the external world. But in proportion as the phenomena become more complicated, they become more exposed to dis- turbance. Hence the need of greater efforts to maintain their normal state — efforts, however, for which there is abundant scope, owing to their being more open to systematic modifications. Our highest liberty, then, consists in making, as far as possible, our good inclinations predominate over our bad. This, too, is the direction in w-hich our power is capable of most extension, provided always that, in our intervention, we act in constant obedience to the fundamental laws of the whole order of things. The doctrine of metaphysics on the so-called moral liberty must be considered, historically, as a tern- THE DOCTRIXE. 231 poraiy result of moclern anarchy. Its direct aim is to sanction complete individualism, the ultimate limit to which we have been ai^proximating since the close of the Middle Ages, and during the insur- rectionary period which in Western Europe natu- rally followed on that close. But this sophistical protest against all sound discipline, whether private or public, will never be able to fetter Positivism, though successful as against Catholicism. It will never be possible to represent as hostile to the liberty and dignity of man, a doctrine which places on a sure basis, and gives free scope to, the action, the intellect, and the feelings of man. The Woman. — By the aid of this preliminary explanation, I shall be able, my father, henceforth to meet sophisms which have yet great weight, where there is deficient cultivation. Would you now explain at once how Positivism evidences its universal competence by a successful application of its doctrine to the phenomena of society ? The Priest. — At the outset, my daughter, you must look on the great science of sociology as made up of two essential parts : the one statical, or the theory of order ; the other dynamical, or the theory of progress. It is the first that claims our special attention in religious instruction, for there the fun- damental nature of the Great Being is the direct object of our study. But the dynamical portion must complete the conception formed by the first, by explaining the successive doctrines of Humanity, in order to a right direction of our social action. 232 SECOND PART. These two halves of sociology are bound one to another in closest union, by virtue of a general principle laid down by Positivism, with a view to connect tJiroughout the study of movement with that of existence. Progress is tlie development of order. Such a law, applicable even in mathematics, finds a larger application in proportion as the \)^Q- nomena become more complicated. The distinction in this case becomes more marked between the sta- tical and the dynamical state. At the same time the simplification produced by this connexion of our studies acquires a greater value. Tt is in soci- ology, then, that this great principle finds its best application, as it is to sociology that we trace its systematic adoption. In this science it is as appli- cable if you invert it, as if you take it as it origin- ally stands. For the successive states in which man has existed must in this way throw toore and more light on the essential constitution of the race. The germs of that constitution must be traceable in its first outline in the primeval state. But to explain the theoretical and practical efficacy of dynamic sociology is the si:)ecial object of the conversation with which we shall conclude this Catechism. For the present, I must confine myself to an explana- tion of the principal notions of social statics. The Woman. — I may add that your doing so, my father, suits my inadequate knowledge of history. Though the conceptions of social statics must be more abstract than those of social dynamics, I shall find it easier to grasp them, if I give the attention THE DOCTRINE. 233 which their importance and difficulty require. At any rate, I shall be supported under the sense of my ignorance by the certainty of finding in myself the confirmation of a doctrine based on the direct study of human nature. The Priest. — You are right, my daughter; an attentive examination of yourself will show you at once the necessary constitution of society. For if society is to represent, as it should do, the general existence of Humanity, it must allow, unmistakeably, a combination of all the essential attributes of man. In your own existence you can trace these attri- butes. If not very distinct, they are yet sufficiently so for you to be able to conceive how they may ultimately act in perfect harmony, when each of them shall have a collective organ, and by means of that organ shall be enabled to give full expression to its peculiar characteristics. Consider Humanity as being like yourself, only in a more marked degree, impelled by feeling, guided by intelligence, and supported by action. At once you have the three essential elements of society : the sex in which affection prevails ; the contemplative class, that is, the priesthood ; and the active class. I have arranged them according to their decrease in dignity, but also according to their increase in independence. The last then is the necessary basis of the whole economy of the Great Being, in obedience to the fundamental law, with which you are now familiar, that the noblest attri- butes are in all cases subordinate to the lowest. 234 SECOND PART. In reality, the unintermitting wants, which are the result of our bodily constitution, enforce on Humanity an amount of action which constitutes the most marked feature in her existence. For de- veloping this activity the need of co-operation be- comes constantly greater. So action, whilst it is the most powerful stimulant of our intelligence, supplies the strongest excitement to our sociability. In reference to this last, it makes solidarity more completely subordinate to continuity — for it is in continuity that resides the most characteristic, as well as the noblest, attribute of the Great Being. The material results of human co-operation depend more on the combined action of a succession of generations than on that of the families who at any one time co-exist. It follows, that far from being absolutely unfavourable to the free play of the intellect and morality, this continuous prepon- derance of active life ought to furnish the best security for our unity, by providing the intellect and the heart with a definite direction and a pro- gressive object. Without this all-pervading im- pulse, our best mental and even our best moral dispositions would soon degenerate and become mere vague and incoherent tendencies, resulting in no progress either for the individual or the com- munity. Still, as such activity must always originate in a personal impulse, such origin vrill at first stamp it with a profoundly egoistical character. This can only become altruistic by a gradual transforma- THE DOCTRINE. 235 tion clue to the development of the social impulse. This is the reason why, in order fully to understand the constitution of the society, we must break up its active class into two constituent parts, always distinct, and often in opposition the one to the other. They have as their special object, the one, to develope the practical imptilse with the strong per- sonality implied in its great energy, the other, the reaction of society on the personal impulse, a reac- tion which raises it more and more. It is indispensable to break up the active class in this way. All we have to do, is to divide the active power of society, and consider it as concentrated or dispersed, according as it is the result of wealth or of number. The power of wealth can only tell indirectly. Still, it is generally the stronger, and it has a ten- dency to become so more and more, representing, as it does, the continuity of our race, whilst that of numbers represents its solidarity. For the material treasures which Humanity entrusts to the rich, are the result of a long antecedent accumulation. There is no objection to this statement in the fact that their necessary consumption constitutes a per- manent demand for partial renovation. Any strong practical impulse, then, must come from the patri- ciate. In that body is vested the control of the capital of the race, the gi'eat nutritive reservoirs, the social efficiency of which mainly depends on their being concentrated in few hands. Thus pro- perty receives a direct sanction from Positive reli- 236 SECOND PART. gion, as being the essential condition of any con- tinuous activity, and, as such, indirectly the basis of our noblest progress. The second practical element, without which the first would be worth nothing, is the proletariate, which of necessity forms the great body of every nation. Its only means of gaining social influence is union. Hence it has a direct tendency to bring into play our highest feelings. By the force of its position, the attention of the proletariate is mainly directed, at all times, on the moral regulation of an economy, any disturbance of which falls most espe- cially on it. Naturally free from the serious re- sponsibility and the mental absorption which all authority brings with it, be it theoretical or prac- tical authority, the spontaneous action of the pro- letariate is calculated to recall both the priesthood and the patriciate to a sense of their social duty. The Woman. — I believe, my father, that this con- tinuous influence of the active class is also quite as indispensable for women. It is needed to control or to compensate the exaggeration of feeling. Not mixing in active life, my sex is often disposed not to see or not to allow for the rough conditions it imposes. However, as we are under the sway of feeling, we may always be brought to accept these conditions, if, by accepting them, we can gain the object of woman's natural aspirations. But the necessities of active life must be the impulse to a right judgment on such points. The Priest. — Your remark shows, my daughter, THE DOCTRINE. 237 that yoii completely understand the peculiar social office of the proletariate. For if even the affective sex can forget its true influence, and be too exclusively occupied with its own particular want, the speculative and the active classes are naturally far more exposed to this danger, as their attention is habitually taken up with points of detail. The moral providence exercised by women, the intellectual providence vested in the priesthood, and the material provi- dence of the patriciate — all equally require for their completion the general providence of the proletariate. "With this complement we perfect the constitution of the admirable system of human providence. Thus all the powers of man, each according to its nature, are made to conduce to the preservation and improvement of Humanity. We tlius gain a general conception of the con- stitution of human society, which enables us to characterize its three essential elements. They take their rank on the principle of their decreasing aptitude to represent Humanity. Nor is the order different, if we look to the predominant influence which each exercises in its turn on every one who is completely educated. First comes the providence of woman, the power which, through our whole life, presides over our moral growth. Under its guidance, we learn to feel continuity and solidarity j for it directs education during the period whilst it pro- ceeds uu systematically in the bosom of the family. As a next step, the providence of the priesthood teaches us to systematize our conceptions of the 238 SECOND PART. nature and the destiny of the Great Being. This it does by disclosing to ns, step by step, the order of the world, its material, social, and moral order. Lastly, we come into direct contact with, and obe- dience to, the power of the material providence — the patriciate and proletariate. We are initiated by it in practical life, and our preparation is completed by the influence of active life on our affections and thoughts. The full completion of our individual develop- ment, the development of the brain as well as of the body, coincides naturally, in point of time, with the completion, as a general rule, of our initiation as members of society. The combination of the two constitutes our real maturity. We then enter on our second life, a life essentially of action, succeed- ing the system of preparations which have fitted us for the service of Humanity. This fresh stage of our objective existence, though generally shorter than the first, is alone decisive. On it alone, that is, depends whether each head of a family attains or not the subjective existence which shall, accord- ing to his merits, incorporate him into Humanity. To get a better idea of this constitution of society, we must consider, separately, its two most special elements, the only classes proj^erly so called, the priesthood which counsels, the patriciate which commands. These two classes respectively are to preserve and increase the spiritual and material treasures of Humanity. They also preside over the proper distribution of these treasures amongst her THE DOCTRINE. 239 servants, in obedience to the laws wliich govern each of the two. We look to the theoretical class, in the first place, for systematic education. Secondly, we give it an influence over the Avhole of life, a consultative influence, that is. We do so, that it may bring the action of each individual into harmony with the action of the rest, a point which in active life we are too apt to neglect. The admirable institution of human language is the special patrimony of the priesthood, for language is the natiu'al depositary of religion, and the most important instrument in its exercise. But whilst we assign language th,us specially to the priesthood, we must not forget that it has never been the work of any special class, but a result of the co-operation of the whole race. By its very nature, spiritual wealth is imperishable, and as such admits of being enjoyed simultaneously by all without being exhausted. So that to preserve it no distribution is needed, and its preservation is but a simple adjunct of the priestly office. Lan- guage is eminently synthetical and social ; it con-, solidates and developes the natural subordination of the world of man to the external world. It also strengthens the union of man with man. This it does above all by bringing into the closest connexion the systematic wisdom of the philosopher and the common sense of mankind. Material products are destined for individual use, and are, by their nature, perishable. Hence the laws of their preservation and use are totally 240 SECOND PART. different. Material products, then, form the province of the patriciate, as a body, aided by the general superintendence of society. But more than this, it is necessary that they should be appropriated to indi- viduals. If not so appropriated their concentra- tion, and as a rule they must be concentrated, be- comes illusory or rather impossible. This institu- tion of property, the primary basis of the material providence, must rest on the land, otherwise it will not have the requisite degree of stability; for the land is naturally the seat, as it is necessarily the source, of all actual production. Thus by a natural process are formed, in the course of generations, the nutritive reservoirs of Humanity. Their permanent destination is the constant renewal of man's exis- tence. Those in whose hands the control of these reservoirs is placed have to direct the labours re- quired by this process. This is the main office of the patriciate. It con- sists in restoring to each man the materials which lie is constantly consuming in the service of society, either as provisions for his subsistence, or as the instruments by which he discharges his functions. Wages, rightly viewed, have no other func- tion whatever to the class that receives them. The labour of man, that is to say, the successful efforts man makes to modify his destiny, is really never otherwise than gratuitous. It does not admit of, it does not require any payment in the strict sense. The term equivalent is appropriate when we are dealing with the materials of labour. It is THE DOCTEINE. 241 inapplicable, when we are considering the relation of the labourer to his work. This is a truth which has always been recognised in the case of the affective sex and the contemplative class, nay even in the case of that portion of the active class which pays the wages of the rest. The inherently gra- tuitous character of labour is disputed, then, only in the case of the proletariate, in the case of those, that is, who receive the least. The contradiction such a result involves clearly indicates the source, historically, of this anomaly. It is due essentially, not to any inferiority in the labour of the class in question, but to the long servitude of its members. Positive religion alone can on this point overcome modern anarchy. It does so by enforcing on all a sense that individual services never admit of any other reward than the satisfaction of renderino^ o them, and the grateful feeling they excite. The Woman. — Vulgar minds may treat this view as a mere sentimental exaggeration, but I venture to promise you, my father, that it will soon meet with a cordial recejDtion among women. I have often been shocked by the prevailing egoism. We are in the habit of thinking that a paltry money pay- ment supersedes all need of gratitude for important and difficult services, services which compromise the health, and sometimes the life, on each occasion, of those who perform them. This Positivist prin- ciple of the gratuitousness of labour gives a syste- matic consistency to feelings universally felt. All that such feelings need to secure theii' gradual pre- R 242 SECOND PART. valence is, expression and method. This principle is the last step in the process by which I have been brought to see that it is possible to stamp on our whole existence, even on its material part, an al- truistic character. All that is requisite for this holy- transformation is, that we all, without attaining to a state of habitual enthusiasm, should have a deep sense that we have each our share in the common work. Now such a conviction can certainly be produced by a system of wise education in which all should participate — an education in which the heart will dispose the intellect to grasp truth as a whole, not in some details. The Priest. — In order to complete this our fun- damental view of the constitution of society, it remains for me, my daughter, to explain the three forms it may take, or the three associations which rise one above the other. Every collective organism, in other words every association, necessarily contains the several elements which I have just explained. But these consti- tuent parts have more or less of a marked character, and consequently are more or less distinct, accord- ing to the nature and extent of the society under consideration. Their respective predominance leads us to recognise three different forms of human asso- ciation. Their order is determined by the decreas- ing closeness of the union, and their increasing extent. The intermediate one rests on its pre- decessor, and is the basis of the one that follows. The only one where the natural foundation is love, THE DOCTRINE. 243 tlie Family, is tlie closest in point of union, the naiTowest in extent, and is the necessary element of the two others. Man's action next leads to the formation of the City. The bond in this case results from an habitual co-operation, the sense of which would be too weak if this political association were to include too large a number of families. Lastly comes the Church. Here the essential bond is faith. The Church alone can be really universal, and its universality will be a necessary consequence of Positive religion. These three forms of human society have as their respective centres, the woman, the patriciate, and the priesthood. We all are members of a family, and that family is always part of some city or other, and even of some church or other. But the church tie is weaker, and therefore susceptible of gi*eater variation, though always within fixed limits. When it has attained sufficient consistency, we can by its aid and by no other means reduce the city to a proper size. The city is the centre around which each man centres his existence, by virtue of the natural preponderance of action over intellect, and even over feeling. For on no other condition can the social state be really permanent but on that of reconciling inde- pendence with joint action, both of which are equally inherent in the true idea of Humauity. Now this necessary agi-eement requires that political societies shall exist within limits much narrower than those usual at the present day. In the Middle Ages thei-e existed in outline the r2 244 SECOND PART. separation between the religious and tlie civil society. Hence it was possible, even then, to sub- stitute the free incorporation of the nations of the West, for the compulsory incorporation originally enforced by the dominion of Home. Western Europe thus presented, during several centuries, the admirable spectacle of an entirely voluntary union, an union founded solely on a common faith, and maintained by a common priesthood between nations whose different governments had all the independence that was requisite. But this great political result could not survive the premature emancipation of a power which Positive religion alone can organize aright and finally enfranchise. The necessary decline of Catholicism led to a fresh concentration of the temporal power. The step was at the time indispensable to prevent the entire political dissolution which seemed imminent, as the consequence of the increasing disruption of all religious bonds. Hence it was, that notwithstanding the feelings and opinions of the Middle Ages, the traces of which are yet visible, the nations of Western Europe acquiesced in the formation every- where of States on far too large a scale. The political reasons for this exorbitant extension are now no longer valid. And even in France men l)egin to feel the danger inherent in this anomalous position, and to feel also that its end is approaching. Positive religion will soon reduce these monster associations to the normal size. There will then be no need of force to maintain a temporal union THE DOCTRINE. 245 between nations, where a spiritual union alone is admissible. Thus shall we shortly apply our statical principle, which considei-s the single city the organ politically of Humanity, including in the city, by way of complement, the less condensed population in natural connexion with it. The feeling of patriotism is now vague and weak in consequence of its excessive diffusion. It will in the new order be able to develope fully all the energy allowed by its concentration in the city. At the same time the habitual union of the great cities will become more real and more efficacious, for it will assume its normal character, that of a voluntary concert. Posi- tive faith will inspire a due sense of the solidarity and even of the continuity which must finally prevail between all portions of the earth without exception. The Woman. — I feel now, my father, prepared, by your explanations of the theory of society, to take my seat at last at the highest point of the encyclopedic edifice, the successive stages of which you have brought under my notice. jNloral science must of course be the hardest of all. Yet so far as concerns its empirical cultivation, my sex is too familiar with it for me to feel the alarm I felt in the case of the others. I am therefore glad to have reached in due time the systematic study of man as an individual. The Priest. — In truth, ray daughter, this, the necessary termination of the whole encyclopedic preparation, is alone able to satisfy the intellect as it does the heart. Moral science is more synthetical 246 SECOND PART. than any other. Its direct connexion with prac- tice gives strength to this its natural attribute. In moral science alone do all the abstract points of view meet spontaneously to take the general guidance of concrete reason. From Thales to Pascal every genuine thinker has cultivated simultaneously geometry and morals, from a secret presentiment of the great hierarchy in which they should be finally combined. The term microcosm, or lesser world, applied by the ancients to man, was even then an indication of the feeling that in the study of man all others might be condensed. Morals are naturally the only science susceptible of real completeness. ISTo essential point need be put out of view, as must be the case in each of the sciences which serve as their basis. For when we look on these sciences as, each in its proper sphere, deciding what are the laws which man obeys, they only attain this end by pur- posely neglecting all the higher properties which their respective provinces might embrace, whilst they incorporate only the inferior ones. By this course of decreasing abstraction, the intellect is finally prepared to enter on the only study in which it is no longer compelled to abstract any essential property fi'om the common object of all our various branches of human speculations. In no other way can meditation, the characteristic of the masculine intellect, be irrevocably imited with contemplation, the distinctive feature of woman's intelligence — an union which constitutes the final condition of human reason. THE DOCTRINE. 2-47 "We begin with cosmology, which lays down the laws of mere matter. Then, on the basis thus laid, biology constructs the theory of life. Lastly, soci- ology brings forward the study of the collective or social existence of man in subordination to the twofold foundation laid. This last of the pre- liminary sciences is more complete than its prede- cessors. Still it does not yet embrace the whole of human nature. For our most important attributes find but an inadequate appreciation in sociolog}^ By its nature, sociology considers in man his intel- ligence and his activity, in combination with all our lower properties, but not in direct subordination to the feelings which are highest of all. The develop- ment of society places in the strongest light our theoretical and practical progress. Even in the statics of sociology, our feelings are only considered in reference to the social impulses derived from them, or to the modifications society introduces. Their peculiar laws, to be properly studied, must be studied in moral science. There they acquire the prepon- derance due to their higher rank in the system of human nature. This it is which leads minds of an unsystematic order to underrate the fulness of the synthetical character wdiich distinguishes this final science. They limit it too closely to this its most important sphere, whereas that sphere is but the centre around which the rest must be finally grouped. TJie Woman. — The theoretical connexion between sociology and morals is not yet clear from mists. 248 SECOND PART. AVould you, • my father, scatter tliese mists before you pass to the direct exposition of the Positive conception of human natui'e ? I have not forgotten the indisputable reasons which in our fundamental conversation made me recognise the objective sub- ordina,tion of morals to sociology, since man is always subordinate to Humanity. But on the other hand, it seems to me that the social science stands in continual need of the more important notions that morals are able to give it as to the true nature of man. The Priest. — Your very reasonable difficulty, my daughter, will disappear, if you take into account that we have always some previous knowledge, ac- quired by our own efforts, which prepares the way for systematic study. Science is always sim.ply the continuation of tlie good sense of mankind. It never really creates any of the more important doctrines. The object of theory is the generaliza- tion and co-ordination of the empirical results of human reason, with a view of securing for those results the consistency and development otherwise unattainable. Such a connexion is more peculiarly appropriate in the study of morals. They could not, it is true, owing to their higher degree of complica- tion, be systematized till the last, but at the same time, by the force of their preponderant importance, they always supplied the main food for our ordinary meditations, especially those of women. From this empirical culture we soon gained some notions, which, in spite of their incoherence, were very valuable. THE DOCTRINE. 249 They have hitherto, it is true, been despised by- minds of systematic tendencies, but only because such minds could find no place for them in their theo- logical or metaphysical theories. Positivism alone is capable of taking in the social point of view; there- fore on it devolved the task of generalizing and co-ordinating these empirical notions, after founding the last of the preliminary sciences. Its ability to systematize them enabled it to appreciate their value in spite of philosophical prejudices ; and so it could turn them to immediate account in the construction of sociology. If you examine closely the way in which we habitually avail ourselves in sociology of the knowledge of human natui-e, you will soon see that all that we really use are these spontaneous notions, which have far more reality in them than all the moral speculations of earlier philosophers. This empirical sketch is sufficient for our concep- tions, so far as they concern the collective existence of man, before it has been reduced to the systematic shape which the final science alone can determine. The Woman. — Your explanation, my father, en- tii'ely does away with the confusion which I had noticed by the way as existing between the two essential aspects of the order of man, the social and the moral. My ignorance had preserved me from the classical theories of human nature. So I am the better able to appreciate the real character of the moral ideas which sociology employs, and to see theii' coincidence with the results obtained by the spontaneous action of human reason. 250 SECOND PART. The Priest. — As a direct foundation for the final science, it is sufficient, my daughter, to put in proper systematic form the division which the common sense of man early recognised in the whole of man's existence — the division into feeling, intellect, and action. In the oldest poets we may trace this analysis under different forms. They proceed from it as their basis, and complete it, on empirical grounds, by the general division of our inclinations into personal and social. The theories of theology, and still more of metaphysics, were, in a special degree, unable to give its due prominence to this last idea. But it is a conception which is so self- evident as to overcome all philosophical sophisms, where there has been no mental cultivation. Such is the natural province of morals. To systematize and develope it is the essential object of moral science. Morals, as all the other branches of real science, are occupied in the main with determining the general laws of the commonest phenomena ; as, for instance, chemistry mainly studies the laws of combustion and fermentation. Although moral science was a subject which theology could not adequately handle, we must not pass over without its due notice the attempt made at the beginning of Catholicism by its real founder. The object was to meet the want of a system created by the new religious teaching. The great St. Paul, in his general doctrine of the permanent struggle between nature and grace, stated, though in an imperfect form, and solved in his own way, the whole moral problem. THE DOCTRINE. 251 not merely as far as regards its practical difficulty, but also as a tlieoretic question. The value of the solution he invented lay in its offering provisionally a compensation for a radical defect in monotheism. Monotheism is irreconcileable with the existence in our nature of the instincts of benevolence, the inclinations which lead all creatures to a mutual union, instead of devoting themselves separately to their Creator. In spite of all the flaws inherent in such a theory, its development in the Middle Ages is really the only great advance made by moral science between the period of its rudimentary state in the early theocratic times and its recent formation into a Positive science. Its form in the Middle Ages was at any rate a better embodiment of the main results of the good sense of maukind than the lamentable ontology which guided men in the gradual dissolution of Catholicism. Hence the Mystics of the fifteenth century, and above all, the admirable author of the Iinitation, are the only thinkers in whom, before Positivism, you can trace a really general view of human nature. The metaphysical concep- tion of that nature is in all cases extremely de- fective. When I remind you of St. Paul's moral doctrine, so justly dear to you in your youth, it is not merely that I wish to honoiir an attempt which is now too generally undervalued. It was a pro- visional substitute for the Positive theory of human nature, which could not be formed till after a long period of objective preparation. But more than this, it spontaneously prepared the way for the 252 SECOND PART. Positive theory, by marking out its systematic domain. It %Yas under its influence that, even prior to the foundation of sociology, from the true scientific point of view, a decisive attempt was made to con- stitute moral science. The attempt was not suc- cessful, but it was made immediately after the rise of the philosophy of biology. The first step was to establish, in this highest province of theory, a general harmony between the statical and dynamical points of view. It was necessary for this to determine the seat of our chief functions. The metaphysical view was a mere con- fusion. It made the intellect supreme, and assigned it the brain. But the reason of mankind had broken through the mists of philosophical specula- tion. It held a different doctrine at any rate as to our inclinations, especially as to our personal inclinations. It was guided on this point by their spontaneous energy. The philosophers of antiquity sanctioned the distinction between them by placing them, though vaguely, in the diflferent viscera of our nutritive system. Still, no organ was set apart for our instincts of sympathy, and science, agreeing with theology, always spoke of the passions as if we had none but bad ones. Besides, the intellect remained undivided, and its subordination to the feelings found no expression in the theory. I have given you this historical introduction, that you may duly appreciate the admirable effort of genius by which Gall founded the Positive theory of human nature. He was unable however to con- THE DOCTllIXE. 253 struct it in sucli a way as to secure its efficiency. To do so requii-ed sociology. He gave a powerful impulse however by laying down two general principles, the one dynamical, the other statical. They are closely connected, and will always be the basis of the true study of the soul and the brain. Gall showed that our higher functions, mental and moral, were plural, and that they all had their seat in the brain. The several regions of the brain must, then, correspond to the real distinctness between them. Gall fell into many important errors, especiaily in regard to the intellect. They were the result of a superficial analysis and an empirical determination of the position of the different organs. But he succeeded in giving an adequate idea of the general method of analyzing our compound exis- tence, and he even succeeded in establishing the fact that we have benevolent inclinations. The imaginary conflict between nature and grace — the conception of St. Paul — is for the future abandoned. And we replace it by the real opposition between the poste- rior part of the brain, the seat of our personal in- stincts, and its anterior region, the seat both of our sympathetic impulses and our intellectual faculties, which however have distinct positions. Such is the indestructible basis on which, as the founder of Posi- tive religion, I proceeded to construct my systematic theory of the brain and the soul. I had previously constituted sociology, from w^hich alone could come the inspiration I required. The Woman. — I seem to get a glimpse, my father, 254 SECOND PART. of the wide philosophical importance of the two principles laid down by Gall, the immediate pre- cm\sor of Positivism. The constant mutual action of our feelings and our thoughts, as well as the natural relations of our several instincts, could not be adequately accounted for, so wide apart were the positions respectively assigned them. On your theory of the brain, we can at length form a con- ception of these important relations, and by its aid we can secure their greater constancy. Still, if we deprive the nutritive organs of any moral character, however alien such a character is to their merely physical function, we have a great omission to supply. How are we to account for the undisputed connexion of these organs with, our higher functions 1 The reciprocal influence of man's physical and moral nature was exaggerated in the ancient hypothesis, but it seems unduly neglected in the modern view. The Priest. — Your reproach is only applicable, my daughter, to the cerebral theory in its rudimen- tary state. It is not applicable to its final state. In that final state these great relations are fully sys- tematLzed. We retain the true notions which so long accredited the old hypothesis, but we limit the influence of our nutritive system to our instincts properly so called. We do not allow that our in- tellectual functions, or even our impulses to action, have any direct participation in that influence. The speculative and the active regions of the brain communicate through the nerves only with the senses and the muscles. That communication ogives THE DOCTRINE. 255 US the perception of the outer world and the power of modifying it. On the other hand, the affective region, which forms the largest mass of the brain, has no direct communication with the outer world. It is only indirectly connected with it through its relations with the intellectual and active regions. But besides this connexion with the other parts of the brain, special nerves bring the affective region into the closest relation with the most important organs of our nutritive system, in consequence of the necessary subordination of our personal instincts to the lowest type of life, that which we have in common with the plant. If this general correspon- dence shall admit, as there is reason for hoping, of a sufficient specification in detail, it will furnish povv^erful means for the reciprocal improvement of man's moral and physical nature. The Woman. — This Positive conception of human nature seems to me, my father, quite in agreement with the experience of mankind, especially in that it rests the unity of man on the constant subordina- tion of the intellect to the heart. You had already explained to me, that of the two modes in which this preponderance of the affections might exist, the altruistic alone can secure for man, even as an individual, a complete and lasting unity, one however which it is more difficult to constitute than the egoistic unity. But in this theory of man's har- mony there is yet a serious difficulty. How are we to reconcile it with the first law of animal life? That law asserts the intermittent character of the 25 Q SECOND PART. whole life of relation, without allowing any excep- tion for the functions of the brain. True unity cannot be intermittent. The intellect and the activity can, and ought to, rest alternately, as ought the senses and muscles, which they respectively bring into play. But the functions of affection cannot be suspended. Can we ever cease to feel love towards ourselves and towards others 1 The Priest. — The direct connexion between the affective life and the nutritive life ought to lead you, my daughter, to see that the first is as con- tinuous as the second. To harmonize this neces- sary continuity with the intermittent character common to the whole life of relation, all we have to do, is to consider the double structure of the brain. All the organs of the brain are, as the senses and muscles are, composed of two symme- trical portions, separate or contiguous, each of which can function whilst the other rests. Such an alternation allows the feelings a continuous exis- tence, in spite of the general intermittence of the brain. Sometimes the intellect functions in this way during sleep, if not by its organs of contemj tlation, the connexion of which with the senses is direct, at any rate by those of meditation, where the dependence on the senses is not immediate. This is the origin of dreams, states of temporary mental alienation, in which, as in madness, subjective impulses, without our will, get the upper hand. This occasional per- sistence of the intellectual functions during sleep enables us to understand the regular persistence of THE DOCTRIXE. 257 the affective functions. I^ay moi'e, it furnishes us with an indirect evidence of such persistence. For our dreams always bear the stamp of the dominant instincts. Since the heart directs the intellect when we are awake, in spite of impressions from without, it must assert a greater power over it when these impressions are no longer felt. We may- hope, then, that the cerebral theory will ulti- mately lead us to a right interpretation of dreams, and even enable us to modify them, so realizing the wish of antiquity, which at the time was pre- mature. The Woman. — I should, my father, have an un- satisfactory conception of the Positive theory of human nature, unless, after explaining the general relations of the heart, the intellect, and the cha- racter, you show me the systematic division of each of the three into their primary functions, beyond which no further reduction is possible. ThePriest. — You have this division, my daughter, in the descriptive system of the brain, which I lay before you. {See Synopsis C, at the end of the volume.) You must become as familiar with it as with our encyclopedic synopsis. Though longer than that, it will be less difficult. Any person of sufficient age, especially a woman, must soon feel the reality of our analysis ; for by its very nature, it rests entirely on observations within the reach of every one. If special and difficult contemplations were indispen- sable for its verification, that would be enough to prove it defective. It required gi-eat efforts to S ZOb SECOND PART. construct this synopsis. But that in no way affects its use, especially for those who have escaped our classical education. The difficulty of construction depended less on the nature of the problem than on the prevalence of false theories. It was the earliest sphere of our intellectual exertions, and yet it was destined to be the last subjected to the gradual process of harmonizing the theoretical with the practical reason. But at length it has under- gone the process, and with such success that the fundamental harmony of the two leads to greater progress in this department than in any other. My classification of the organs of the brain offers you throughout a fresh application of the universal principle of decreasing generality, the principle which you saw was the foundation of the whole encyclo- pedic liierarchy. You may trace it most clearly in the case of the instincts, as they are more numerous and more marked in character. Their decrease in generality, in proportion as they become nobler and less energetic, is fully verified in the whole of the animal series. In the lowest stage we find simply the fundamental instinct of indi^ddual preservation. There is as yet no complete separation of the sexes. Then, in succession, we see the other instincts added, first the personal, then the social, in the order indi- cated by my system of the brain. Man is the limit of the series. This verification from comparative zoology is sufficient to prove the truth of my analy- sis. It often aided me in working out that analysis. Not that, however, I had recourse to any other THE DOCTRINE. 259 guidance than that of sociology. In the highest animals in our series, the mammiferous animals and birds, we certainly find a complete combination of all our higher functions. The difference is merely one of degree. See how the greatest of poets had a pre- sentiment of this fundamental resemblance between man and the animals. In the midst of his sublime descriptions of Paradise, Dante introduces this ad- mirable picture of the moral existence of a bird — Come I'augello intra I'amate fronde Posato al nido de' suoi dolci nati, La notte che le cose ci nasconde, Che per veder gli aspetti desiati, E per trovar lo cibo onde li pasca, In che i gravi labor gli son aggrati, Previene '1 tempo in su I'aperta frasca, E con ardente affetto il sole aspetta Fiso guardando pur che I'alba nasca. Dante, Paracl. xxiii. 1 — 9. E'en as the bird, who 'midst the leafy bower Has, in her nest, sat darkling through the night. With her sweet brood ; impatient to descry Their wished looks, and to bring home their food, In the fond quest unconscious of her toil; She, of the time prevenient, on the spray. That overhangs their couch, with wakeful gaze Expects the sun, nor ever, till the dawn, Removeth from the east her eager ken. Cart's Translation. In this charming description an animal very far removed from man offers us, equally with man, the normal concurrence of feeling, intelligence, and activity. The feeling of brotherhood between man and the other animals is more precious even for the s2 260 SECOND PART. heart than for the intellect. For it extends our sympathies beyond our own species, and so acts as a check on any disposition to cruelty in our too frequent conflicts with the subordinate races. The Woman. — I am fond of studying animals, my father, with the view of tracing in them essen- tially the same impulses as in man. But I suppose that the synopsis of the brain is independent of any such verification. There are minds which would not accept it. The Priest. — Even when confined to man, our observations, my daughter, are really sufficient to remove all uncertainty as to any part of the Positive theory of the soul and brain. Even the analysis of the intellect, more delicate than the two others, inas- much as its divisions are less marked, may be veri- fied by an appeal to facts of daily experience. It is sufficient to compare the two sexes to see the capital distinction, that between the organs of con- templation and those of meditation. For the first of these two functions is more developed in woman, the second in man. Similarly we se2:)arate the two organs of meditation, by remarking that your sex is more adapted for connecting facts, mine for co- ordinating them. "Were our savans as sagacious as most Avomen, and as clear as women of erroneous views, the strong evidence of comjiarative zoology would be superfluous. TJie Woma/i. — My first inspection of the descrip- tive system of the brain has given rise to some doubts, my father. These I should like to have THE DOCTRINE. 261 cleared up before I begin its study. The instincts, as a whole, seem placed in their right light, except the maternal instinct. This I expected to find under the head of altruism, not under that of egoism. The Priest. — You must distinguish, my daughter, between the maternal instinct and the influence that instinct may have on our sympathies. Such an influence is not inherent in it, as is seen by the fact that it is often wanting. The observation of animals leaves us no doubt as to the necessity of this dis- tinction, for we find instances of the maternal rela- tion in animals, at too low a point in the scale to have the sentiments connected with that relation in the human species. But you can remove all uncer- tainty on the point without going beyond your own species. However valuable the improvement eflected by civilization, particularly modern civiliza- tion, in this instinct, as a consequence of the in- creasing influence of society on the family, it is yet possible, in daily experience, to detect its true nature in women of weak sympathies, where it stands out more distinctly. In such cases we see that the child, for the mother no less than for the father, is regarded directly in the light of a mere personal possession, on which they may exercise their love of power, or by which they may gratify their avarice, far more than as the object of any disinterested aflfection. Only, as the relations which spring from the fact of maternity give a strong stimulus to the instincts of benevolence, they spon- 262 SECOND PART. taneously aid in the development of those instincts wherever the nature is kindly, but they never create sympathy. In fact its previous existence is implied. When we compare the different states of society, either in the present or in the past, we see the true character of an instinct, which, previous to its im- provement by the providence of m^n, often leads parents to sell, or even to kill their children, on purely selfish grounds. Besides, look around you, and see the principles on which professions are habitually chosen, or marriages made, and ask your- self whether it is not the egoism of the parents, and not their love of their children, that is the prevailing motive since the anarchy of modern times has weakened the influence of society on the family. The sexual instinct was sometimes honoured with a similar mistake, though not by your sex. Women are in general not blind to its selfish character. But men confused it, as they did the maternal, with the sympathies of which, when under due control, it stimulates tlie growth. All our personal instincts, not excepting that of destruction, may exert a similar influence. But this influence is not misun- derstood in the other cases, as it is less direct and less marked. This general relation makes it easier to solve the great problem for man — viz., how to subordinate egoism to altruism. For the greater energy of the personal instincts may thus serve to compensate the natural weakness of our instincts of sympathy, by originating the impulse which they THE DOCTRINE. 263 stand in need of, but do not find in themselves. Once set in motion, the benevolent affection per- sists and grows bj virtue of the immense superiority of its attraction, after the coarser stimulant has ceased to act. The moral superiority of woman often supersedes in her case the need of such a pre- paration. She is ready to love, as soon as she finds objects to love, without seeking in love any selfish gratification. The coarser nature of man can hardly ever dispense with this indirect impulse. But -p'dv- ticularly is this the case in regard to public life, where we want a noble direction for pride and vanity. The Woman. — As for the intellectual functions, I am surprised, my father, not to find in your synopsis of the brain the faculties that have become classical — memory, judgment, imagination, &c. (fee. The Priest. — They are secondary faculties, my daughter. That is, they are results of our whole mental organization, though long considered as special functions. A comparison of individuals and of sexes, completed, if it must be so, by a comparison of species, gives direct proof of the groundlessness of the old analysis of the intellect and the soundness of the new. For such observation shows us marked and permanent differences as regards contemplation or meditation, but never leads to clear and sure results in the case of the faculties acknowledged by the schools. Every judgment, however unimportant, requires an habitual concurrence of the five intel- lectual functions, to enable us to bring the world 264 SECOND PART. witliin and the world without into that lasting and perfect coincidence which is the characteristic of truth. So it is, even more strongly, with the efforts of the memory or the imagination. They often re- quire inductions or deductions in strict analogy with the operations of science. As for the will, it is directly a result of every affective impulse which has the sanction of the intellect, in its capacity of guide of our conduct. The Woman. — I have a remark to make of a con- trary tendency to my last. I am surprised, my father, to see language have a distinct place assigned it in your synopsis of the brain, instead of being treated as a product of the whole of our intellectual functions. The Priest. — Your mistake depends on this, my daughter. You confuse the special aptitude to create artificial signs with the results that follow on the due subordination of that aptitude to the other mental functions. The intellectual analysis of Gall was generally inadequate, but even he did not hesitate to assign language a separate organ. Its existence admits of no doubt, as is shown by the observation of animals, of men, and of nations. When left to itself, free, that is, from the control of the brain, as is often the case in illness, and at times even in health, the direct action of this organ of language produces nothing but a mere flow of words, requiring reason if they are to be discourse, in the true sense of the term. In other cases, on the contrary, the exceptional inaction of this organ THE DOCTRINE. 265 hinders the transmission of thoughts even when the thoughts themselves are perfectly worked out. For the rest, we must not confuse in animals the peculiar function of language with the means of social ex- pression. These do not always answer to the func- tion. Every one of the higher species has its natural language, understood by the whole race, and even by the races near it in the series, but the physical means of communication are often very imperfect. As for the actual language of civilized nations, it is in reality a very complicated result of the whole of man's development. Still, if traced to its primary source, it will be traced to that organ of the brain which leads us to create, by some means or other, artificial signs, without any direct refer- ence to the mental and moral communications of which they may be the instrument. T/ie Woman. — To complete this important appre- ciation, would you, my father, point out to me the general use I ought to make of the synopsis of the brain when I have sufficiently studied it ? The Priest — You can only, my daughter, make it your own by constantly applying it. Women are in the habit of tracing in our actions and language, the feelings and thoughts from which they really proceed. Consider the synopsis of the brain as giving a general assistance to women in improving themselves in this part of their work. You wdll often find that the soul of man is not impenetrable. The brain thus becomes a book, the truth of which cannot be disputed, and which you can read s])ite 266 SECOND PART. of all the artifices of dissimulation. Complete your observation of individuals by comparing one with another nations in very different stages. Add even the study of the animals within your reach. You will then have finished your initiation in the Posi- tive theory of human nature. But as mistakes are but too easy, to avoid them or to correct them, you must always remember that most of the results which fall under your observa- tion, intellectual as well as moral, spring from the concurrent action of several functions of the brain. These functions can seldom be observed alone. So your inquiry will most frequently involve an analysis. The requisites for such analysis you will always find in your synopsis, and you must combine them till your synthesis adequately represents the case under notice. For instance, envy is the result of a combination of the instinct of destruction with some one or other of the six egoistic instincts ; there is besides the secret feeling of personal infe- riority, mental as well as moral. There are then six kinds of envy, according as the second element in the combination is avarice or luxury, j CThp Familv rinnn. Progress as the End J SOCIAL WOESHIP, V trv, Huma^idty ) Embracing in a series of Eighty-one Annual Festivals the Worship of Humanity under all its aspects. \ r^ew Year's Day ... ( ^^JSilf ^^'"^ "^ '^" lstMonth.HU3IA^'ITY.-{ rrelimous. ^religious, of) hist • • I Weekly Festivals of ) historical. L the Social Union, j national. r complete. (^municipal. 2ndMonth.MAERIAGE.-5 <^haste. ; unequal. V. subjective. Pi^ 3rd Month. The PATEE-C^O'^Plete {ar\Sl. XAL EELATIOX. .-U,,^^,^,^ ^spiritual 4th Month. The FILIAL ^ , ,,. . . ^'^^^oral. EELATIOX. t oame subdivisions. 5th Month. * The "f RAO , , . . . TEENAL RELATION, j ^'^"^^ subdivisions. 6th Month. The EELA--N rcomnlete Il^T^^^lv^N^x'^^r '""""' (incoS^pleie. (^ A^u s±.±t\AJ^i. J temporary Same subdivision. 8th Month. POLYTHE- ISM fe , r spontaneous (°''°^^'^ •■■ ■Festival of the Animals. "thMonth. FETICHISM J <- sedentary.. J'eg^icaZ of Fire. I svstematic. . . ( sacerdotal. Je.^u-aZ of the Sun. V - imihtary ...Festival of Iron. 'couseTyatixe... Festival of Castes. resth.ei.ic.S:omer,^schi/lus, Phidias. intellectual . ' f^^''- ,"] ^^«?^f'„ F>/thagoras, {Salamis) < tifi^and I Aristotle Hippocrates, ^ ' philoso- I Archimedes, Apollo- Lphic. J nius, Hipparchus. ^social... Scipio, Ccesar, Trajan. "theocratic Abraham, Moses, Solomon. f St. Paul. I Charlemagne. cathoUc -{i^7f- ^ I Hildebrand. Godfrey of Bouillon. \^St. Bernard. Mahometan (Lepanto) Mahomet. (Dante. metaphysical J^ Descartes. ( mother. (.Frederic II. < E- 02 >^ ^ J O i < < P-i 9th Month. MONOTHE- ISM r 10th Month. WOMEX.J wife. Moral Providence. / daughter. ^ sister. llthiIonth.ThePRIEST- f i^^complete Festival of Art . HOOD ■{ preparatory Festival of Science. InteUectml Providence!' C definitive (^^?°^.'^^7- ^ ^. , ^^,,„ ^ ( pnncipal. Festival of Old Men. 12th Month. ThePATRI- C^a^J^g Festival of the Knights. >A i CIATE ; commerce. < Material Providence." (manufactures. S ^agriculture. o 13th Month. T^Q'S^oC^'^^'^'^f.' Festival of Inventors: Chitemberg, Colum- ^ 1 LETAEI ITE ■< aUeetive. [bus, Vaucanson, Watt, Montgolfier. I General Providence:" (^°^*?°^P^^^^- ^, ^ .... ^ ^passive St. Francis ofAssisi. COMPLEMEXTARY D .lY Festival of all the Dead The additional Day in LEAP YEARS... General Festival of Holt Wombs^ 4eme vol. Politique Positive, p. 159. Paris, Saturday, 7 Archimedes, 66. (1 April, 1854.) o I— I O I < 02 O 2 H EH o Eh K Cl5 IMPULSION. (the heaet.) Decrease of energy, in- crease of dignity, from the back of the head to the front, from the lower part to the higher, from the sides to the middle. COUNSEL. (the intellect.) Knowledge, or Tision, for the sake of pre- vision, with a view to provision. •iTJfosaaj i f aApoB uaqjA'sapisnadojj •saoiojt aAiioijiy OT (XOY OX '3NIHX OX EXECUTION. (the CHAEACTEE.) other, ith the cera of This he two us and others which A O ^ « 7! r » O ^ ( ^ 1 « •? 5 o 1 ^ -e O 0-r=^ SQ^ -1 on cati lith reg res the the agei ion, imni wit] two nate tof that ual utrit ;onin cept ther alter tha this Hfe of n 11 direct c •ation ex ugh the o so by the mplete as is from ith the e o •= -5 2 o 9 .-S ^ .rja= = S.a-'.._ ^ (^ imulatos t pe region i ect commi which is t: enabled to ction is as 1 alfective; the auima w ^ii3.s;a^ H f i § S - S .5 i r^ ^ e one ha , Its spc gion has connexio activity. A cessatio if the bra ho relatio rr\ i— t _!- m CJ >i --> -3 O -ij 2 1 .'hich, on tl al functioni 1 alfective r orld, its oul in constan its periodic pal region ers direct \ &^ ^ 3^ ^-2 =T-sa iparatus, s of exte: lotion. ] external xistenco, ' the brai the prii le two P^ O P^ <} 1 sis 11"^ "Jo HI thor for by com gion wi e corrcs ?ntro of organs, i living dieuce 1 ' — ' I o .2 53 ^ ^ "^ >. - : ^ r ;ili1'!is ■saiinTa^ ITOIIDTaj g r^ *- ^ -S Pj S 5 9 ^ ^ a 55 2 ^ % 1 ^ o 3 SB 5; 3 5- 5 S H. S^ 3 HISTORICAL DITISION. r- ~ -^ Pbelisiis^aet Science, Final Science or or jS'ATrEAI Philosophy. MoEAL Philosophy (The Order of the Ex- Social and Moral temalAVorld.) Order.) J, ^ ' ■^ ^ (N CO -^ »a «£ i> ej 1 ';^ i' m C .ai g^ s ^. ^ c M g g 3 1 . 1^ i 6 1-5 1 H ^ O o § £ 1 1 3 1 s •A g -3 c ^fc 3 g < 3 'C 1 g^ M g OD c J- o s W o H O s H 1 Ph o ^ >. o © > £ c 1 1 s ^- a2 o CO c c < i 1^ t o o e-i 1— t > i 111 O 1 1 C ^ CO P3 l5§ 1 c ^ / ■-rs : o O O til §111 c O ■t ^ 7" X > g S t-H 1 If •3 2'SI H b a g fe 55 H i o O a ^ ;- Hi S ^^ h^ Ph O O !S c 1 i ^ O o ^ ^ 'x^oisiAia lYoiivitsoa lie AQ Table D. POSITIVIST CALENDAR, ADAPTED TO ALL TEAES EQUALLY; OE, CONCRETE VIEW OF THE PREPARATORY PERIOD OF MAN'S HISTORY, TRANSITION ' WESTERN REPUBLIC RLEMAGNE, HAS BEEN FORMED 1 FREE COHESION Monday..., Tuesday .. 3 i 5 7 10 11 13 13 U 16 17 18 19 20 21 22 23 27 28 THE INITIAL THEOCBACY. Prometheus Cadmus. Hercules Theseus. Orpheus Tiresias. Lyourgus. BomuTus. K UMA. Beliia Semiramia. Meuu. Zoroaster. The Druida Osaian. BOUDDHA. Lao-Tseu. Meng-Tseu. The Theocrats of Thibet. The Theocrats of Japan. Manco-Capac T CONFUCIUS. Abraham Joseph. Samuel. Solomon David. Isaiah. St. John the Baptist. Haroun-al-Easchid. i4i(/erraAmanZJ/. MAHOMET. Tyrtaeus Sapph. Pindar. Sophocles Euripidei Theocritus Longut iESCHYLUS. Ictinus. Praxiteles. Lysippus. Apelles. PHIDIAS. ARISTOPHANES. Ennius. Lucretius. Horace. TibuUus. Ovid. VIRGIL. Anaximauder. Democritus Zeucippus. Herodotus. THALES. Xenophanes. Erapedocles. Thucydides. Apollonius of Ty PYTHAGORAS Aristippus. Zeno. Cicero FUny the Younger, Epictetus Arrian. Tacitus. SOCRATES. Xenocrates. Philo of Alexandria. St. John the Evangelist. St. Justin St. Iren(BUs, St. Clement of Alexandria. Origen TertulUan. PLATO. Theophrastus. Herophilus. Erasistratua. Celsus. Averrhoea. HIPPOCRATES. Euclid. Theodosius of Bithynia. Hero Ctesibiiis. Pappus. Diophautus. APOLLONIUS. Eudoxus Aratus. Pytheas Nearchus. Ariatarchus Berosus. Eratosthenes Sosigenes. Ptolemy. Albategnius Nasir-Eddin, HIPPARCHU9. Varro. Columella. Vitruvius, Strabo. Frontinus. Plutarch. FLINT THE ELDER. Miltiades. Leonidas. Ariatidea. . Epaminondai Philip. ' Demosthenes. Ptolemy Lagus. Philopcemen. Polybius. ALEXANDER. Junius Brutus. Camillus (Hnmmatua. Fabriciua Eegulna. Hannibal. Marius .'. The Gracchi. SCIPIO. Augustus Mecenaa. Vespasian Titus. Hadrian Nerva. Antoninus Marcua Aureliua. Papinian Ulpian. Alexander SeveruB Aetiua. TRAJAN. St. Luke St. James. ft A^^sius St. Jerome. St. Ambrose. St. Monica. ST. AUGUSTIN. Constantine. Theodosius, St. ChrysoBtom St. Basil. St. Pulcheria Marcia7i. St. Genevieve of Paris. St. Gregory the Great. HILDEBBAND. St, Benedict Sf. Antoiti/. St. Boniface St. Austin. St. Isidore of Seville St. Bruno. Lanfi-anc St. Anselm. Heloisa Beatrice. The Arch'ts of MiiAges ...St.Bemiel ST. BERNABD. [the Less. St. Francis Xavier. . .Ignatius Loyolu. St. Ch. JiorTOJaeo...Fredk.Borromeo. St. Theresa ...St. Catharine of Siena. St.Vme'l.ieTaui.TheAbUdel'Epie. Bonrdaloue Claude Fleury. W. Penn O. Fox. BOSSDET. CHARLEMAGNE. Theodoric the Great. Pelavo. Otho the Great... ,2r«ify the Fowler. Viiliers,,..'. Za VaMte. Don John of Austria .., Join Sob ALFRED. Charles Martel. The Cid Tantred. Richard I SaVtdin. Joan of Arc Marina. Albuquerque W. Raleigh. Bayard, GODFREY. St. Leo the Great Leo IV. Gerbert Fetcr Damian. Peter the Hermit, Suger St.Eligins. Alesaiuier III Beckel. St. Francis of Assisi St. Don INNOCENT III. St. Clotilde. Sl.'BMa\is...St.MamiJaofTttsciing. St. Stephen of Huugary,Jl/«(A(a* Cor- St. Elizabeth of Hungary. [Mm. Blanche of CastUle. St. Ferdinand III Alfonso X. ST. LOUIS. Monday ,,. Tuesday .,. Wednesday Thursday,,. Friday .'..... Saturday.,, ..Chaucer. 1 I The Troubadours. 2 I Boccacio 3 < Kabeluis. ■4 : Cervantes. 5 I La Fontaine Burns. 6 I DeFoe Goldsmith. 7 : ARIOSTO. Velasquez Murillo. Teniers Rubens. RAPHAEL. LacaUle Cook COLUMBUS. 15 Froissart Joinville. \ Ste\-in,. 10 Camoens Spe. 17 The Spanish Romancers. 18 Chateaubriand, 19 Walter Scott Coi 20 Manzoni. 21 TA8S0. Mme. de Lafayette. ...Jfinc. i d Xhellejf, Bernard de Palissy. Guglielmini Jtiquet. Duhamel (duMouceau).. .Bourse/a/. Sausaure Bouguer. Coulomb Borda. Carnot Vauban. MONTGOLFIEH. SHAKESPEARE. Lope de Vega Moreto Otway. Goe'thl.' CALDERON. Voltaire. Metastasio Schiller. CORNEILLE. Mme. de Motteville. Mme. de S^viguc. .. Mme. de Start! : Fielding MOLIEltE. Pergole; Sacchini Gluok... Lully. Sandel. Weber. . Donizetti. Albertus Magnus. .JoAm ofSalithury. Roger Bacon Raymond Liilly, St. Bonaventura Joachim, Ramus The Cardinal ofCasa. Montaigne Erasmus. Campanella Sir Thomas More. ST. 'fnOMAS AQUINAS. Hobbes Spinosa. Pascal Giordano Bruno. Locke Malehranche. Vauvenargues Mme. de Lambert. Diderot Duclcs. Cabauis Oeorge Leroy. LORD BACON. Groiius Ciijaa. F-n!rii^'lle Maupertuia. Virn Herder. Vi-'.'i-ci... Tf'iitckelinann. -MMiiti-sijuicii d' Aquesseau. Bullim \,...Oken. LEIBNITZ. Robertson Gibbon. Adam Smith Dunoyer. Kant Fichte. Condorcet Ferguson. Joseph de Maistre Bonald. Hegel Sophie Germain. hiTme. Marie de Molina. Cosmo de Medici the Eld< Philippe de Comini Isabella of Castille. Charles V Sixfua V. CoUgny L'Mvpital. Barneveldt. Gustavus Adolphus. De Witt. Ruyter. "William III. WILLIAM THE SILENT. Simenes. Sully Oxenatiem. Colbert Loxiia XIV. Walpole Maznrin. D'Aranda Fombal. Turgot Campomanea. RICHELIEU. Sidney Lambert. Franklin Sampden. Washington Roaciuako. Jefl'erson Madison. Bolivar Touasaint-L' ' Francia. CROMWELL. The names in ItaUcs Copernicus Tycho Brahi Kepler Malley. Huyghens Varignon. James BerDOuiUi ... John Bernouilli. Bradley Ileaumur. Volta Sauveur. GALILEO. Vieta Wallis Clairaut Euler Monge. Alembert Daniel Bernouilli, Joseph Fourier. . Harriott. ... Fermat, ... Foinaot, n^tSn'.' Scheele. Priestley Davy. Cavendish. Guyton Morveau Oeojroy. Berthollet. Berzehus Mitter. LAVOISIER. Harvey Ch. Bell. Boerhaave Stahl. Linnceus. Bernard de Jusaieu. HaUer Vicg-d'Azyr. Lamarck BlainvtUe. Morgayni. I i I J Seventh Edition, Aug. ] 1 Appel aux Conservaleurs, p. 115. 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