PAGE 10
Auguste Comte
by
The essence of Positive Philosophy is that man passes through three mental periods–the Theological or fictitious; the Metaphysical or abstract; the Positive or scientific.
Hence, there are three general philosophies or systems of conceptions concerning life and destiny.
The Theological, or first system, is the necessary starting-point of the human intellect. The Positive, or third period, is the ultimate goal of every progressive, thinking man; the second period is merely a state of transition that bridges the gulf between the first and the third.
Metaphysics holds the child by the hand until he can trust his feet–it is a passageway between the fictitious and the actual. Once across the chasm, it is no longer needed. Theology represents the child; Metaphysics the youth; Science the man.
The evolution of the race is mirrored in the evolution of the individual. Look back on your own career–your first dawn of thought began in an inquiry, “Who made all this–how did it all happen?”
And Theology comes in with a glib explanation: the fairies, dryads, gnomes and gods made everything, and they can do with it all as they please. Later, we concentrate all of these personalities in one god, with a devil in competition, and this for a time satisfies.
Later, the thought of an arbitrary being dealing out rewards and punishments grows dim, for we see the regular workings of Cause and Effect. We begin to talk of Energy, the Divine Essence, and the Reign of Law. We speak, as Matthew Arnold did, of “a Power, not ourselves, that makes for righteousness.” But Emerson believed in a power that was in himself that made for righteousness.
Metaphysics reaches its highest stage when it affirms “All is One,” or “All is Mind,” just as Theology reaches its highest conception when it becomes Monotheistic–having one God and curtailing the personality of the devil to a mere abstraction.
But this does not long satisfy, for we begin to ask, “What is this One?” or “What is Mind?”
Then Positivity comes in and says that the highest wisdom lies in knowing that we do not know anything, and never can, concerning a First Cause. All we find is phenomena and behind phenomena, phenomena. The laws of Nature do not account for the origin of the laws of Nature. Spencer’s famous chapter on the Unknowable was derived largely from Comte, who attempted to define the limits of human knowledge. And it is worth noting that the one thing which gave most offense in both Comte’s and Spencer’s works was their doctrine of the Unknowable. This, indeed, forms but a small part of the work of these men, and if it were all demolished there would still remain their doctrine of the known. The bitterness of Theology toward Science arises from the fact that as we find things out we dispense with the arbitrary god, and his business agent, the priest, who insists that no transaction is legal unless he ratifies it.
Men begin by explaining everything, and the explanations given are always first for other people. Parents answer the child, not telling him the actual truth, but giving him that which will satisfy–that which he can mentally digest. To say, “The fairies brought it,” may be all right until the child begins to ask who the fairies are, and wants to be shown one, and then we have to make the somewhat humiliating confession that there are no fairies.
But now we perceive that this mild fabrication in reference to Santa Claus, and the fairies, is right and proper mental food for the child. His mind can not grasp the truth that some things are unknowable; and he is not sufficiently skilled in the things of the world to become interested in them–he must have a resting-place for his thought, so the fairy-tale comes in as an aid to the growing imagination. Only this: we place no penalty on disbelief in fairies, nor do we make special offers of reward to all who believe that fairies actually exist. Neither do we tell the child that people who believe in fairies are good, and that those who do not are wicked and perverse.