(b) Every branch of human knowledge passes through the three states, necessarily beginning with the first stage.

(c) The three states mutually exclude one another, being essentially different, and even radically opposed.

Two questions present themselves. Is M. Comte consistent with himself in making these assertions? And is he consistent with fact? I reply to both questions in the negative; and, as regards the first, I bring forward as my witness a remarkable passage which is to be found in the fourth volume of the "Philosophic Positive" (p. 491), when M. Comte had had time to think out, a little more fully, the notions crudely stated in the first volume:—

"A proprement parler, la philosophie théologique, même dans notre première enfance, individuelle ou sociale, n'a jamais pu être rigoureusement universelle, c'est-à-dire que, pour les ordres quelconques de phénomènes, les faits les plus simples et les plus communs ont toujours été regardés comme essentiellement assujettis à des lois naturelles, au lieu d'être attribués à l'arbitraire volonté des agents surnaturels. L'illustre Adam Smith a, par example, très-heureusement remarqué dans ses essais philosophiques, qu'on ne trouvait, en aucun temps ni en aucun pays, un dieu pour la pesanteur. Il en est ainsi, en général, même à l'égard des sujets les plus compliqués, envers tous les phénomènes assez élémentaires et assez familiers pour que la parfaite invariabilité de leurs relations effectives ait toujours dû frapper spontanément l'observateur le moins préparé. Dans l'ordre moral et social, qu'une vaine opposition voudrait aujourd'hui systématiquement interdire à la philosophie positive, il y a eu nécessairement, en tout temps, la pensée des lois naturelles, relativement aux plus simples phénomènes de la vie journalière, comme l'exige évidemment la conduite générale de notre existence réelle, individuelle ou sociale, qui n'aurait pu jamais comporter aucune prévoyance quelconque, si tous les phénomènes humains avaient été rigoureusement attribués à des agents surnaturels, puisque dès lors la prière aurait logiquement constitué la seule ressource imaginable pour influer sur le cours habituel des actions humaines. On doit même remarquer, à ce sujet, que c'est, au contraire, l'ébauche spontanée des premières lois naturelles propres aux actes individuels ou sociaux qui, fictivement transportée à tous les phénomènes du monde extérieur, a d'abord fourni, d'après nos explications précédentes, le vrai principe fondamental de la philosophie théologique. Ainsi, le germe élémentaire de la philosophie positive est certainement tout aussi primitif au fond que celui de la philosophie théologique elle-même, quoi qu'il n'ait pu se développer que beaucoup plus tard. Une telle notion importe extrêmement à la parfaite rationalité de notre théorie sociologique, puisque la vie humaine ne pouvant jamais offrir aucune véritable création quelconque, mais toujours une simple évolution graduelle, l'essor final de l'esprit positif deviendrait scientifiquement incompréhensible, si, dès l'origine, on n'en concevait, à tous égards, les premiers rudiments nécessaires. Depuis cette situation primitive, à mesure que nos observations se sont spontanément étendues et généralisées, cet essor, d'abord à peine appréciable, a constamment suivi, sans cesser longtemps d'être subalterne, une progression très-lente, mais continue, la philosophie théologique restant toujours réservée pour les phénomènes, de moins en moins nombreux, dont les lois naturelles ne pouvaient encore être aucunement connues."

Compare the propositions implicitly laid down here with those contained in the earlier volume. (a) As a matter of fact, the human intellect has not been invariably subjected to the law of the three states, and therefore the necessity of the law cannot be demonstrable à priori. (b) Much of our knowledge of all kinds has not passed through the three states, and more particularly, as M. Comte is careful to point out, not through the first, (c) The positive state has more or less co-existed with the theological, from the dawn of human intelligence. And, by way of completing the series of contradictions, the assertion that the three states are "essentially different and even radically opposed," is met a little lower on the same page by the declaration that "the metaphysical state is, at bottom, nothing but a simple general modification of the first;" while, in the fortieth Leçon, as also in the interesting early essay entitled "Considérations philosophiques sur les Sciences et les Savants (1825)," the three states are practically reduced to two. "Le véritable esprit général de toute philosophie théologique ou métaphysique consiste à prendre pour principe, dans l'explication des phénomènes du monde extérieur, notre sentiment immédiat des phénomènes humains; tandis que au contraire, la philosophie positive est toujours caractérisée, non moins profondément, par la subordination nécessaire et rationnelle de la conception de l'homme à celle du monde."[21]

I leave M. Cointe's disciples to settle which of these contradictory statements expresses their master's real meaning. All I beg leave to remark is, that men of science are not in the habit of paying much attention to "laws" stated in this fashion.

The second statement is undoubtedly far more rational and consistent with fact than the first; but I cannot think it is a just or adequate account of the growth of intelligence, either in the individual man, or in the human species. Any one who will carefully watch the development of the intellect of a child will perceive that, from the first, its mind is mirroring nature in two different ways. On the one hand, it is merely drinking in sensations and building up associations, while it forms conceptions of things and their relations which are more thoroughly "positive," or devoid of entanglement with hypotheses of any kind, than they will ever be in after-life. No child has recourse to imaginary personifications in order to account for the ordinary properties of objects which are not alive, or do not represent living things. It does not imagine that the taste of sugar is brought about by a god of sweetness, or that a spirit of jumping causes a ball to bound. Such phænomena, which form the basis of a very large part of its ideas, are taken as matters of course—as ultimate facts which suggest no difficulty and need no explanation. So far as all these common, though important, phænomena are concerned, the child's mind is in what M. Comte would call the "positive" state.

But, side by side with this mental condition, there rises another. The child becomes aware of itself as a source of action and a subject of passion and of thought. The acts which follow upon its own desires are among the most interesting and prominent of surrounding occurrences; and these acts, again, plainly arise either out of affections caused by surrounding things, or of other changes in itself. Among these surrounding things, the most interesting and important are mother and father, brethren and nurses. The hypothesis that these wonderful creatures are of like nature to itself is speedily forced upon the child's mind; and this primitive piece of anthropomorphism turns out to be a highly successful speculation, which finds its justification at every turn. No wonder, then, that it is extended to other similarly interesting objects which are not too unlike these—to the dog, the cat, and the canary, the doll, the toy, and the picture-book—that these are endowed with wills and affections, and with capacities for being "good" and "naughty." But surely it would be a mere perversion of language to call this a "theological" state of mind, either in the proper sense of the word "theological," or as contrasted with "scientific" or "positive." The child does not worship either father or mother, dog or doll. On the contrary, nothing is more curious than the absolute irreverence, if I may so say, of a kindly-treated young child; its tendency to believe in itself as the centre of the universe, and its disposition to exercise despotic tyranny over those who could crush it with a finger.

Still less is there anything unscientific, or anti-scientific, in this infantile anthropomorphism. The child observes that many phænomena are the consequences of affections of itself; it soon has excellent reasons for the belief that many other phænomena are consequences of the affections of other beings, more or less like itself. And having thus good evidence for believing that many of the most interesting occurrences about it are explicable on the hypothesis that they are the work of intelligences like itself—having discovered a vera causa for many phænomena—why should the child limit the application of so fruitful an hypothesis? The dog has a sort of intelligence, so has the cat; why should not the doll and the picture-book also have a share, proportioned to their likeness to intelligent things?

The only limit which does arise is exactly that which, as a matter of science, should arise; that is to say, the anthropomorphic interpretation is applied only to those phænomena which, in their general nature, or their apparent capriciousness, resemble those which the child observes to be caused by itself, or by beings like itself. All the rest are regarded as things which explain themselves, or are inexplicable.