But M. Comte does appeal, in the second instance, to history in confirmation of his views. He is far from affirming, however, that the progress of the race, under the operation of his great law of development, has been either uniform or invariable; on the contrary, he admits, with regard to India, China, and other nations, comprising probably the majority of mankind, whose state, intellectually and socially, has been stationary for ages, that they afford little or no evidence in support of his theory; and for this, among other reasons, he confines himself to the history of what he calls the élite, or advanced guard of humanity, and in this way makes it a very "abstract" history indeed![73] Beginning with Greece, as the representative of ancient civilization, and surveying the history of the Roman empire, and of its successors in Western Europe, he endeavors to show that the actual progress of humanity has been, on the whole, in conformity with his general law. He gives no historical evidence, however, of the prevalence of Fetishism in primitive times; that is an inference merely, depending partly on his theory of cerebral organization, and partly on the assumption that in the savage state, which is gratuitously supposed to have been the primitive condition of man, there must have been a tendency to regard every object, natural or artificial, as endowed with life and intelligence. Polytheism, again, he conceives to have been a step in advance, an improvement on the preëxisting state of things, instead of being, as it really was, a declension from a purer and better faith, an aberration from the light of Nature, not less than from the lessons of Revelation. He conceives Monotheism, whether as taught, to the Jews by Moses, or to the world at large by Christ and his apostles, to have been the natural product of man's unaided intelligence; and he assumes this, without making a single reference to the supernatural events by which its publication, in either instance, is said to have been accompanied, or to the sacred books in which they are recorded; nay, he does not even name the Founder of the Christian faith, otherwise than by describing him as "the founder, real or imaginary, of this great religious system."[74]
In treating, again, of the Critical or destructive system of Metaphysics, and of the Positive or reconstructive system of the New Philosophy, he adduces no evidence to show that the same element is negatived by the one and restored by the other; on the contrary, were his statement true in all respects, it would only serve to prove that the Theological element, which is slowly dissipated by Metaphysics, is formally and finally abjured by Positivism. He assumes and asserts, on very insufficient grounds, that there is a real, radical, and necessary contrariety between the facts and laws of Science and the first principles of Theology, whether natural or revealed; and he anticipates, therefore, that in proportion as Science advances, Theology must recede, and ultimately quit the field. He ought to have known that there are minds in every part of Europe as thoroughly scientific as his own, and as deeply imbued with the spirit of modern Inductive Philosophy, who, so far from seeing any discordance between the results of scientific inquiry and the fundamental truths of Theology, are in the habit of appealing to the former in proof or illustration of the latter; and who, the further they advance in the study of the works of Nature, are only the more confirmed in their belief of a Creative Intelligence and a Governing Power. It may be that, in his own immediate circle at Paris, there is a tendency towards Atheism; but, assuredly, no such tendency exists in the highest and most scientific minds of modern Europe. The faith of Bacon, Newton, and Boyle, of Descartes, Leibnitz, and Pascal, in regard to the first principles of Theology, is still the prevailing creed of the Sedgwicks, the Whewells, the Herschells, and the Brewsters of the present day.
The only plausible part of his Historical Survey, and that which, in our apprehension, is the most likely to make some transient impression on the popular mind, is his elaborate attempt to show, with regard to each branch of Science, in detail, that it was enveloped during its infancy in a cloud of superstition; and that just in proportion as the light shone more clearly, or was more distinctly discerned, the cloud was gradually dissipated and dispersed, until, one after another, they were all emancipated from their supposed connection with supernatural causes, and reduced under fixed natural laws. Confounding Theology with Superstition, or failing, at least, to discriminate duly between the two, M. Comte draws a vivid picture of the successive inroads which Science has made on the consecrated domain of Religion, and represents the one as receding just in proportion as the other advances. For as the darkness disappears before the rising sun, whose earliest rays gild only the loftier mountain peaks, but whose growing brightness spreads over the lowly valleys and penetrates the deepest recesses of nature, so Theology gradually retires before the advance of Science, which first conquers and brings under the rule of natural law the simplest and least complicated branches, such as Mechanics and Astronomy; then attacks the more complex, such as Chemistry and Physiology; and, last of all, advances to the assault of the most difficult, such as Ethics and Sociology; until, having emancipated each of them successively from their previous connection with supernatural beliefs, it effects the entire elimination of Theology, first from the philosophic, and afterwards from the popular creed of mankind. M. Comte conceives that the religious spirit has been steadily decreasing throughout the whole course of human development, from the time when it was universal, in the form of Fetishism, till it reached its most abstract, but least influential form in Monotheism; and that now the period of its decline and fall has arrived, when it is subjected to the powerful solvent of a Metaphysical and Skeptical Philosophy, and when its ultimate extinction is certain under the action of Positive Science.
We deem this by far the most dangerous, because it is the most plausible part of his speculations; so plausible that, even where his reasonings in support of it may fail to carry the full conviction of the understanding, they may yet leave behind them a certain impression unfavorable to faith in Divine things, since they appeal to many palpable facts in the history of Science, too well attested to be doubted, and too important to be overlooked. The theory itself—whatever may be thought of the peculiar form which it has assumed in the hands of M. Comte—cannot be regarded, in its main and essential features, as one of his original discoveries; for the general idea on which it rests had been announced with equal brevity and precision by the celebrated La Place: "Let us survey the history of the progress of the human mind and of its errors; we shall there see final causes constantly pushed back to the boundaries of its knowledge. These causes, which Newton pushed back to the limits of the solar system, were, even in his time, placed in the atmosphere to explain meteoric appearances. They are nothing else, therefore, in the eyes of a philosopher, than the expression of our ignorance of the true causes." Supposing this to be a correct account of the fact, the inference which M. Comte deduces from it might seem to follow very much as a matter of course,—the inference, viz., that in proportion as Science advances and succeeds in subjecting one department of Nature after another to fixed and invariable laws, Theology, or the doctrine of Final Causes, must necessarily recede before it, and, at length, disappear altogether, when human knowledge has reached its highest ultimate perfection. But is it a correct account of the fact? Is it true that the doctrine of Final Causes is less generally admitted, or more dubiously maintained, in regard to those sciences which have already reached their maturity, than in regard to those other sciences which are still comparatively in their infancy? Or is it true that it has lost instead of gaining ground by the progress of scientific discovery, so as to occupy a narrower space and to hold a more precarious footing, now, than it did in the earlier ages of ignorance and superstition? Did Final Causes disappear from the view of Newton when he discovered the law which regulates the movements of the heavenly bodies? Did Galen or did Paley discard them when they surveyed the human frame in the light of scientific anatomy? or Harvey, when, impelled and guided by this doctrine as his governing principle, he discovered the circulation of the blood? In what departments of Nature, and in what branches of Science, does the Theistic philosopher or the Christian divine find the clearest and strongest proofs of order, adaptation, and adjustment? Is it not in those very departments of Nature whose laws have been most fully ascertained? in those very branches of Science which have been most thoroughly matured? Did we believe Comte and La Place, we should expect to find that the doctrine of Final Causes and the science of Theology could now find no footing in the domain of Astronomy, of Physics, or of Chemistry, since in these departments the phenomena have been reduced, by many successive discoveries, to rigorous general laws; and that they could only survive for a brief time by taking refuge in the yet unconquered territory of Meteorology, Biology, and Social Science. But is it so? Examine the Series of Bridgewater Treatises, or any other recent philosophical exposition of the Evidence of Natural Theology, and it will be apparent, on the most cursory review, that in point of fact the arguments and illustrations are derived almost entirely from the more advanced sciences; and that, so far from receding or threatening to disappear, Final Causes have only become more prominent and more striking in proportion as inquiring men have succeeded in removing the vail from any department of Nature.
It were easy, indeed, to cull from the records of the past many facts which might seem to give a plausible aspect to the theory of M. Comte. We might be told of the early history of Astronomy, when the astrologer gazed upon the heavens with a superstitious eye, and spoke of the mystic influence of the planets, and constructed the horoscope for the calculation of nativities and the prediction of future events. We might be told of the early history of Anatomy, when, from the entrails of birds and animals, the haruspex prognosticated the fate of empires and the fortunes of battle. We might be told of the early history of Chemistry, when alchemists sought in their concoctions a panacea for all human evils, and in their crucibles an alkalest or universal menstruum. We might be told of the early history of Zoölogy, when the augur watched the flight, the singing, the feeding of birds, and applied them to the purposes of divination. We might be told of Aëromancy as the earliest form of Meteorology, and of Geomancy as the earliest form of Geology.[75] And we might be told of the popular superstitions which lingered, till a very recent period, among the peasantry of our own country, and which are now gradually disappearing in proportion as the light of Religion and Science is diffused.[76] These facts, which appear on the surface of human history, do unquestionably prove that there has been a process of gradual advancement, by which each of the sciences has been, in succession, purged of its earlier errors, and placed on a more solid and enduring basis. But they prove nothing more than this: they do not prove that these sciences must ultimately supersede Theology, or that they have a necessary tendency towards Atheism. On the contrary, we hold that they afford a valid presumption from analogy on the other side. For suppose, even, that Religion, following the same law of development which determines the progress of every other branch of human knowledge, had become incorporated, in its earlier stages, with many fond and foolish superstitions, the analogy of the other sciences would lead us to conclude that, just as the reveries of Astrology had passed away and given place to a solid system of Astronomy,—and as the vain speculations of Alchemy had been superseded by the useful discoveries of Chemistry,—and as the arts of Augury and Divination had finally issued in the inductive science of true Natural History,—so Theology might also purge itself from the fond conceits which had been for a time incorporated with it, and still survive, after all superstition had passed away, as a sound and fruitful branch of the tree of knowledge.
This is not the precise light, however, in which M. Comte regards Theology, He does not speak of it as a distinct and independent science, but rather as a method of Philosophy, which has been applied to the explanation of all the departments of Nature; and, viewed in this light, he objects to it on the ground that Positive Science peremptorily demands the elimination of all causes, efficient and final, and, consequently, the exclusion of all reference to God, or to any supernatural power, in connection with the laws either of the material or moral world. This is the fundamental basis of his theory. It is assumed that the recognition of natural laws is incompatible with the belief in supernatural powers, and that these laws must be invariable and independent of any superior will. Hence the supposed antagonism between Theology and Physical Science, which is strongly affirmed by M. Comte[77]; as if the laws of Nature could not exist unless they were independent of the Divine will, or as if the arts of industry could not be pursued, on the supposition of a Providence, without sacrilegious presumption. The laws for which he contends must have had no author to establish, and can have no superior will to control them; they had no beginning, and can have no end; they cannot be reversed, suspended, or interfered with; they are necessary, immutable, and eternal, not subordinate to God, but independent of Him; they are, in short, nothing less than Destiny or Fate, the same that Cudworth describes as the Democritic, Physiological, or Atheistic Fate, which consists in "the material necessity of all things without a God."[78] Now, we have no jealousy of natural laws. We believe in their existence; we believe, also, in their regular operation in the ordinary course of Nature; but we deny that they must needs be independent of a supreme will, and affirm that, being subordinate to that will, they are not necessarily invariable. They are expressly recognized and cordially maintained by divines, not less than by men of science; but in such a sense as to be perfectly compatible both with the doctrine of a primitive creation, and also with the possibility of a subsequent miraculous interposition. The Westminster Divines explicitly declare that "God, the First Cause, by His providence, ordereth all things to fall out according to the nature of second causes, either necessarily, freely, or contingently;" and that "in His ordinary providence, He maketh use of means, but is free to act without, above, and against them at His pleasure."[79] But M. Comte will have no laws, however regular, unless they be also invariable, and independent of any superior will. And, doubtless, if this were the sense in which Science has established the doctrine of natural laws, it would be at direct variance with Theology, both Natural and Revealed; and the antagonism between the two might afford some ground for the belief that, sooner or later, Theology must quit the field. But it is not the existence of these natural laws, nor even their regular operation in the common course of Providence, that is hostile to our religious beliefs,—it is only the supposition that they are unoriginated, independent, and invariable; and to assume this without proof, as if it were a self-evident or axiomatic truth, or to apply it in a process of historical deduction respecting either the past development or the future prospects of the race, is such a shameless begging of the whole question,—that we know of no parallel to it except in the kindred speculations of Strauss, who assumes the same radical principle, and gravely tells us that whatever is supernatural must needs be unhistorical.[80]
There is absolutely no evidence, properly historical, that there is any necessary tendency in the recognition of established natural laws to supersede Theology, or to introduce an era of universal Atheism. Some such tendency might exist were these laws conceived of as necessary, independent, and invariable. But this hypothesis, equally unphilosophical and irreligious, is not and never has been maintained by the great body of Inductive inquirers, who see no contradiction either between the established order of Nature and the supposition of its Divine origin, or between the operation of natural laws and the recognition of a supreme, superintending Providence. Nor should it be forgotten, in this connection, that the evidence in favor of Theism depends not so much on the mere laws as on the dispositions and adjustments that are observable in Nature.[81] There is, therefore, no historical proof to establish the supposed law of human development, and no rational ground to expect that the progress of Inductive Science will ever supplant or supersede Theology. It is true that Theology, although a distinct and independent science, is so comprehensive in its range that it gathers its proofs and illustrations from every department of Nature, and that, were it excluded from any one of these, it might, for the same reason, be excluded from all the rest; but it is not true that there is any real or necessary antagonism between the laws of Nature and the prerogatives of God. On the contrary, let our knowledge advance until all the phenomena both of the Material and Moral worlds shall be reduced under so many general laws, even then Superstition might disappear, but Theology would remain, and would only receive fresh accessions of evidence and strength, in proportion as the wise order of Nature is more fully unfolded, and its most hidden mysteries disclosed.
We scarcely know whether it is needful to advert at all to the argument in favor of his theory which M. Comte founds on the analogy of individual experience. It is a transparent fallacy. He tells us that the race is, like an individual man, Religious in infancy, Metaphysical in youth, and Positive—that is, Scientific, without being Religious—in mature manhood.[82] Now, this analogical argument, to have any legitimate weight, must proceed on the assumption of two facts. The first is, that the law of individual development commences, in the case, at least, of all who belong to the élite of humanity, with Theology, and terminates in Atheism; and the second is, that the individual is, in this respect, the type or pattern of his race, and that the experience of the one is only an outline in miniature of the history of the other. It would be difficult, we think, to establish the truth of either of these positions by evidence that could be satisfactory to any reflecting mind. We cannot doubt, indeed, for experience amply attests, that the religious sensibilities of childhood have often been sadly impaired in the progress from youth to manhood, and that, after the tumultuous excitements, whether of speculation or of passion, not a few have sought a refuge from their fears in the cold negations of Atheism. But is this the law of development and progress? Is it a law that is uniform and invariable in its operation? Are there no instances of an opposite kind? Are there no instances of men whose early religious culture had been neglected, and who passed through youth without one serious thought of God and their relation to Him, but who, as they advanced in years, began to reflect and inquire, and ultimately attained to a firm religious faith? If such diversities of individual experience are known to exist, then clearly the result is not determined by any necessary or invariable law of intellectual development; but must be ascribed to other causes, chiefly of a moral and practical kind, which exert a powerful influence, for good or evil, on every human mind. Montaigne speaks of an error maintained by Plato, "that children and old people were most susceptible of Religion, as if it sprung and derived its credit from our weakness."[83] And we find M. Comte himself complaining, somewhat bitterly, that his quondam friend, the celebrated St. Simon, had exhibited, as he advanced in years (cette tendance banale vers une vague religiosité), a tendency towards something like Religion.[84] Cases of this kind are utterly fatal to his supposed law of individual development, and they must be equally fatal to his theory of the progress of the human race.
Hitherto we have considered merely the reasons which M. Comte urges in support of his theory, and have endeavored to show that they are utterly incapable of establishing it as a valid scientific doctrine. It may be useful, however, to advert, in conclusion, to some considerations which afford decisive objections against it, arising from the testimony of authentic history and the plainest principles of reason.
In so far as the testimony of history and tradition is concerned, nothing can be more certain than that the progress of the race has followed a very different course from that which M. Comte has traced out for it by his grand fundamental law. The theory of a primitive state of ignorance and barbarism, in which a rude Theology existed, in the form of Fetishism, is opposed not more to the authority of Scripture, the earliest record of our race, than to the unanimous voice of antiquity, which attests the general belief of mankind in a primeval state of light and innocence. There is a sad but striking contrast between the views which are generally held by the Christian Theist, and those which are avowed by M. Comte on this subject. The Christian Theist admits the doctrine of a primeval Revelation and a pristine state of purity and peace; M. Comte maintains the doctrine of a primitive barbarism and a natural aboriginal Superstition. The Christian Theist believes in a fall subsequent to the creation of man, and ascribes the ignorance and error, the superstition and idolatry which ensued, to the perversion and abuse of his intellectual and moral powers; M. Comte affirms that man did not fall, that he did actually rise by a process of slow but progressive self-elevation, and that, in advancing from Fetishism to Polytheism, and from Polytheism to Monotheism, and from Monotheism to Atheism, he has all along been determined by the law of his normal development. In the view of the Christian Theist, Revelation was the sun which shed its cheering rays on the first fathers of mankind, and which, after having been obscured, for a time, by the clouds and darkness of Superstition, shines out again, clear and strong, under the dispensation of the Gospel; in the view of M. Comte, Science is the only sun that is destined to enlighten the world,—a sun which has not yet fully risen, but which has sent before, as the harbingers of its speedy advent, a few scattered rays to gild the lofty mountain peaks, while all beneath is still buried in Cimmerian darkness. The Christian Theist anticipates the time when the true light which now shineth shall cover the whole earth; M. Comte predicts its utter and final extinction, when Positive Science shall have risen into the ascendant. His theory is contradicted by the history of the past; let us hope that the events of the future will equally belie his prediction. For Christianity is the only hope of the world. The prospects of man would be dark indeed on the supposition of its being abolished. "There might remain among a few of the more enlightened some occasional glimpses of religious truth, as we find to have been the case in the Pagan world; but the degradation of the great mass of the people to that ignorance, and idolatry, and superstition, out of which the Gospel had emancipated them, would be certain and complete. This retrograde movement might be retarded by the advantages which we have derived from that system, whose influence we should continue to feel long after we had ceased to acknowledge the divinity of its source. But these advantages would by degrees lose their efficacy, even as mere matters of speculation, and give place to the workings of fancy, and credulity, and corruption. A radiance might still glow on the high places of the earth after the sun of Revelation had gone down; and the brighter and the longer it had shone, the more gradual would be the decay of that light and warmth which it had left behind it. But every where there would be the sad tokens of a departed glory and of a coming night. Twilight might be protracted through the course of many generations, and still our unhappy race might be able to read, though dimly, many of the wonders of the eternal Godhead, and to wind a dubious way through the perils of the wilderness. But it would be twilight still; shade would thicken after shade; every succeeding age would come wrapped in a deeper and a deeper gloom; till, at last, that flood of glory which the Gospel is now pouring upon the world would be lost and buried in impenetrable darkness."[85]