Chapter XII: Part XII: The Parsonage (9)
"Approaching to a more detailed examination of this doctrine,
it is evident that the absolute right of free examination
(which, connected as it is with the liberty of the press and
the freedom of education, is manifestly its principal and
fundamental dogma) is nothing else, in reality, but the
consecration, under the vicious abstract form common to all
metaphysic conceptions, of that transitional state of unlimited
liberty in which the human mind has been spontaneously placed,
in consequence of the irrevocable decay of the theologic
philosophy, and which must naturally remain till the
establishment in the social domain of the positive method.[49]
... However salutary and indispensable in its historical
position, this principle opposes a grave obstacle to the
reorganization of society, by being erected into an absolute
and permanent dogma. To examine always without deciding ever,
would be deemed great folly in any individual. How can the
dogmatic consecration of a like disposition amongst all
individuals, constitute the definitive perfection of the social
order, in regard, too, to ideas whose finity it is so
peculiarly important, and so difficult, to establish? Is it not
evident, on the contrary, that such a disposition is, from its
nature, radically anarchical, inasmuch as, if it could be
indefinitely prolonged, it must hinder every true mental
organization?
"No association whatever, though destined for a special and
temporary purpose, and though limited to a small number of
individuals, can subsist without a certain degree of reciprocal
confidence, both intellectual and moral, between its members,
each one of whom finds a continual necessity for a crowd of
notions, to the formation of which he must remain a stranger,
and which he cannot admit but on the faith of others. By what
monstrous exception can this elementary condition of all
society be banished from that total association of mankind,
where the point of view which the individual takes, is most
widely separated from that point of view which the collective
interest requires, and where each member is the least capable,
whether by nature or position, to form a just appreciation of
these general rules, indispensable to the good direction of his
personal activity. Whatever intellectual development we may
suppose possible, in the mass of men it is evident, that social
order will remain always necessarily incompatible with the
permanent liberty left to each, to throw back every day into
endless discussion the first principles even of society....
"The dogma of _equality_ is the most essential and the most
influential after that which I have just examined, and is,
besides, in necessary relation to the principle of the
unrestricted liberty of judgment; for this last indirectly
leads to the conclusion of an equality of the most fundamental
character--an equality of intelligence. In its bearing on the
ancient system, it has happily promoted the development of
modern civilization, by presiding over the final dissolution of
the old social classification. But this function constitutes
the sole progressive destination of this energetic dogma, which
tends in its turn to prevent every just reorganization, since
its destructive activity is blindly directed against the basis
of every new classification. For, whatever that basis may be,
it cannot be reconciled with a pretended equality, which, to
all intelligent men, can now only signify the triumph of the
inequalities developed by modern civilization, over those which
had predominated in the infancy of society....
"The same philosophical appreciation is applicable with equal
ease to the dogma of the _sovereignty of the people_. Whilst
estimating, as is fit, the indispensable transitional office of
this revolutionary dogma, no true philosopher can now
misunderstand the fatal anarchical tendency of this
metaphysical conception, since in its absolute application it
opposes itself to all regular institution, condemning
indefinitely all superiors to an arbitrary dependence on the
multitude of their inferiors, by a sort of transference to the
people of the much-reprobated right of kings."
[49] "There is," says M. Comte here in a note, which consists
of an extract from a previous work--"there is no liberty of
conscience in astronomy, in physics, in chemistry, even in
physiology; every one would think it absurd not to give credit
to the principles established in these sciences by competent
men. If it is otherwise in politics, it is because the ancient
principles having fallen; and new ones not being yet formed,
there are, properly speaking, in this interval no established
principles."
As our author had shown how the _theologic_ philosophy was inconsistent often with itself, so, in criticising the _metaphysics_, he exposes here also certain self-contradictions. He reproaches it with having, in its contests with the old system, endeavoured, at each stage, to uphold and adopt some of the elementary principles of that very system it was engaged in destroying.
"Thus," he says, "there arose a Christianity more and more
simplified, and reduced at length to a vague and powerless
theism, which, by a strange medley of terms, the metaphysicians
distinguished by the title of _natural religion_, as if all
religion was not inevitably _supernatural_. In pretending to
direct the social reorganization after this vain conception,
the metaphysic school, notwithstanding its destination purely
revolutionary, has always implicitly adhered, and does so,
especially and distinctly, at the present day, to the most
fundamental principle of the ancient political doctrine--that
which represents the social order as necessarily reposing on a
theological basis. This is now the most evident, and the most
pernicious inconsistency of the metaphysic doctrine. Armed with
this concession, the school of Bossuet and De Maistre will
always maintain an incontestable logical superiority over the
irrational detractors of Catholicism, who, while they proclaim
the want of a religious organization, reject, nevertheless, the
elements indispensable to its realization. By such a concession
the revolutionary school concur in effect, at the present day,
with the retrograde, in preventing a right organization of
modern societies, whose intellectual condition more and more
interdicts a system of politics founded on theology."
Our readers will doubtless agree with us, that this review of political parties (though seen through an extract which we have been compelled to abbreviate in a manner hardly permissible in quoting from an author) displays a singular originality and power of thought; although each one of them will certainly have his own class of objections and exceptions to make. We said that the impression created by the work was decidedly _conservative_, and this quotation has already borne us out. For without implying that we could conscientiously make use of every argument here put into our hands, we may be allowed to say, as the lawyers do in Westminster Hail, _if this be so_, then it follows that we of the retrograde, or as we may fairly style ourselves in England--seeing this country has not progressed so rapidly as France--we of the stationary party are fully justified in maintaining our position, unsatisfactory though it may be, till some better and more definite system has been revealed to us, than any which has yet made its advent in the political world. If the revolutionary, metaphysic, or liberal school have no proper office but that of destruction--if its nature be essentially transitional--can we be called upon to forego this position, to quit our present anchorage, until we know whereto we are to be transferred? Shall we relinquish the traditions of our monarchy, and the discipline of our church, before we hear what we are to receive in exchange? M. Comte would not advise so irrational a proceeding.
But M. Comte has himself a _constructive_ doctrine; M. Comte will give us in exchange--what? The Scientific Method!
We have just seen something of this scientific method. M. Comte himself is well aware that it is a style of thought by no means adapted to the multitude. Therefore there will arise with the scientific method an altogether new class, an intellectual aristocracy, (not the present race of _savans_ or their successors, whom he is particularly anxious to exclude from all such advancement,) who will expound to the people the truths to which that method shall give birth. This class will take under its control all that relates to education. It will be the seat of the moral power, not of the administrative. This, together with some arguments to establish what few are disposed to question, the fundamental character of the laws of property and of marriage, is all that we are here presented with towards the definite re-organization of society.
We shall not go back to the question, already touched upon, and which lies at the basis of all this--how far it is possible to construct a science of Sociology. There is only one way in which the question can be resolved in the affirmative--namely, by constructing the science.
Meanwhile we may observe, that the general consent of a cultivated order of minds to a certain class of truths, is not sufficient for the purposes of government. We take, says M. Comte, our chemistry from the chemist, our astronomy from the astronomer; if these were fixed principles, we should take our politics with the same ease from the graduated politician. But it is worth while to consider what it is we do when we take our chemistry from the chemist, and our astronomy from the astronomer. We assume, on the authority of our teacher, certain facts which it is not in our power to verify; but his reasonings upon these facts we must be able to comprehend. We follow him as he explains the facts by which knowledge has been obtained, and yield to his statement a rational conviction. Unless we do this, we cannot be said to have any knowledge whatever of the subject--any chemistry or astronomy at all. Now, presuming there were a science of politics, as fixed and perfect as that of astronomy, the people must, at all events, be capable of understanding its exposition, or they could not possibly be governed by it. We need hardly say that those ideas, feelings, and sentiments, which can be made general, are those only on which government can rest.
In the course of the preceding extract, our author exposes the futility of that attempt which certain churchmen are making, as well on this side of the Channel as the other, to reason men back into a submission of their reason. Yet, if the science of Sociology should be above the apprehension of the vulgar, (as M. Comte seems occasionally to presume it would be,) he would impose on his intellectual priesthood a task of the very same kind, and even still more hopeless. A multitude once taught to argue and decide on politics, must be reasoned back into a submission of their reason to political teachers--teachers who have no sacred writings, and no traditions from which to argue a delegated authority, but whose authority must be founded on the very reasonableness of the entire system of their doctrine. But this is a difficulty we are certainly premature in discussing, as the true Catholic church in politics has still itself to be formed.
We are afraid, notwithstanding all his protestations, M. Comte will be simply classed amongst the _Destructives_, so little applicable to the generality of minds is that mode of thought, to establish which (and it is for this we blame him) he calls, and so prematurely, for so great sacrifices.
The fifth volume--the most remarkable, we think, of the whole--contains that historical survey which has been more than once alluded to in the foregoing extracts. This volume alone would make the fortune of any expert Parisian scribe who knew how to select from its rich store of original materials, who had skill to arrange and expound, and, above all, had the dexterity to adopt somewhat more ingeniously than M. Comte has done, his abstract statements to our reminiscences of historical facts. Full of his own generalities, he is apt to forget the concrete matter of the annalist. Indeed, it is a peculiarity running through the volume, that generalizations, in themselves of a valuable character, are shown to disadvantage by an unskilful alliance with history.
We will make one quotation from this portion of the work, and then we must leave M. Comte. In reviewing the theological progress of mankind, he signalizes three epochs, that of Fetishism, of Polytheism, and of Monotheism. Our extract shall relate to the first of these, to that primitive state of religion, or idolatry, in which _things themselves_ were worshipped; the human being transferring to them immediately a life, or power, somewhat analogous to its own.
"Exclusively habituated, for so long a time, to a theology
eminently metaphysic, we must feel at present greatly
embarrassed in our attempt to comprehend this gross primitive
mode of thought. It is thus that fetishism has often been
confounded with polytheism, when to the latter has been applied
the common expression of idolatry, which strictly relates to
the former only; since the priests of Jupiter or Minerva would,
no doubt, have as justly repelled the vulgar reproach of
worshipping images, as do the Catholic doctors of the present
day a like unjust accusation of the Protestants. But though we
are happily sufficiently remote from fetishism to find a
difficulty in conceiving it, yet each one of us has but to
retrace his own mental history, to detect the essential
characters of this initial state. Nay, even eminent thinkers of
the present day, when they allow themselves to be involuntarily
ensnared (under the influence, but partially rectified, of a
vicious education) to attempt to penetrate the mystery of the
essential production of any phenomenon whose laws are not
familiar to them, they are in a condition personally to
exemplify this invariable instinctive tendency to trace the
generation of unknown effects to a cause analogous to life,
which is no other, strictly speaking, than the principle of
fetishism....
"Theologic philosophy, thoroughly investigated, has always
necessarily for its base pure fetishism, which deifies
instantly each body and each phenomenon capable of exciting the
feeble thought of infant humanity. Whatever essential
transformations this primitive philosophy may afterwards
undergo, a judicious sociological analysis will always expose
to view this primordial base, never entirely concealed, even in
a religious state the most remote from the original point of
departure. Not only, for example, the Egyptian theocracy has
presented, at the time of its greatest splendour, the
established and prolonged coexistence, in the several castes of
the hierarchy, of one of these religious epochs, since the
inferior ranks still remained in simple fetishism, whilst the
higher orders were in possession of a very remarkable
polytheism, and the most exalted of its members had probably
raised themselves to some form of monotheism; but we can at all
times, by a strict scrutiny, detect in the theologic spirit
traces of this original fetishism. It has even assumed, amongst
subtle intelligences, the most metaphysical forms. What, in
reality, is that celebrated conception of a soul of the world
amongst the ancients, or that analogy, more modern, drawn
between the earth and an immense living animal, and other
similar fancies, but pure fetishism disguised in the pomp of
philosophical language? And, in our own days even, what is this
cloudy pantheism which so many metaphysicians, especially in
Germany, make great boast of, but generalized and systematized
fetishism enveloped in a learned garb fit to amaze the
vulgar."--Vol. V. p. 38.
He then remarks on the perfect adaptation of this primitive theology to the initial torpor of the human understanding, which it spares even the labour of creating and sustaining the facile fictions of polytheism. The mind yields passively to that natural tendency which leads us to transfer to objects without us, that sentiment of existence which we feel within, and which, appearing at first sufficiently to explain our own personal phenomena, serves directly as an uniform base, an absolute unquestioned interpretation, of all external phenomena. He dwells with quite a touching satisfaction on this child-like and contented condition of the rude intellect.
"All observable bodies," he says "being thus immediately
personified and endowed with passions suited to the energy of
the observed phenomena, the external world presents itself
spontaneously to the spectator in a perfect harmony, such as
never again has been produced, and which must have excited in
him a peculiar sentiment of plenary satisfaction, hardly by us
in the present day to be characterized, even when we refer back
with a meditation the most intense on this cradle of humanity."
Do not even these few fragments bear out our remarks, both of praise and censure? We see here traces of a deep penetration into the nature of man, coupled with a singular negligence of the historical picture. The principle here laid down as that of fetishism, is important in many respects; it is strikingly developed, and admits of wide application; but (presuming we are at liberty to seek in the rudest periods for the origin of religion) we do not find any such systematic procedure amongst rude thinkers--we do not find any condition of mankind which displays that complete ascendancy of the principle here described. Our author would lead us to suppose, that the deification of objects was uniformly a species of explanation of natural phenomena. The accounts we have of fetishism, as observed in barbarous countries, prove to us that this animation of stocks and stones has frequently no connexion whatever with a desire to explain _their_ phenomena, but has resulted from a fancied relation between those objects and the human being. The _charm_ or the _amulet_--some object whose presence has been observed to cure diseases, or bring good-luck--grows up into a god; a strong desire at once leading the man to pray to his amulet, and also to attribute to it the power of granting his prayer.[50]
[50] Take, for instance, the following description of fetishism
in Africa. It is the best which just now falls under our hand,
and perhaps a longer search would not find a better. Those only
who never read _The Doctor_, will be surprised to find it
quoted on a grave occasion:--
"The name Fetish, though used by the negroes themselves, is
known to be a corrupt application of the Portuguese word for
witchcraft, _feitiço_; the vernacular name is _Bossum_, or
_Bossifoe_. Upon the Gold Coast every nation has its own, every
village, every family, and every individual. A great hill, a
rock any way remarkable for its size or shape, or a large tree,
is generally the national Fetish. The king's is usually the
largest tree in his country. They who choose or change one,
take the first thing they happen to see, however worthless--a
stick, a stone, the bone of a beast, bird, or fish, unless the
worshipper takes a fancy for something of better appearance,
and chooses a horn, or the tooth of some large animal. The
ceremony of consecration he performs himself, assembling his
family, washing the new object of his devotion, and sprinkling
them with the water. He has thus a household or personal god,
in which he has as much faith as the Papist in his relics, and
with as much reason. Barbot says that some of the Europeans on
that coast not only encouraged their slaves in this
superstition, but believed in it, and practised it
themselves."--Vol. V. p. 136.
We carry on our quotation one step further, for the sake of illustrating the impracticable _unmanageable_ nature of our author's generalizations when historically applied. Having advanced to this stage in the development of theologic thought, he finds it extremely difficult to extricate the human mind from that state in which he has, with such scientific precision, fixed it.
"Speculatively regarded, this great transformation of the
religious spirit (from fetishism to polytheism) is perhaps the
most fundamental that it has ever undergone, though we are at
present so far separated from it as not to perceive its extent
and difficulty. The human mind, it seems to me, passed over a
less interval in its transit from polytheism to monotheism, the
more recent and better understood accomplishment of which has
naturally taught us to exaggerate its importance--an importance
extremely great only in a certain social point of view, which I
shall explain in its place. When we reflect that fetishism
supposes matter to be eminently active, to the point of being
truly alive, while polytheism necessarily compels it to an
inertia almost absolute, submitted passively to the arbitrary
will of the divine agent; it would seem at first impossible to
comprehend the real mode of transition from one religious
_régime_ to the other."--P. 97.
The transition, it seems, was effected by an early effort of generalization; for as men recognized the similitude of certain objects, and classified them into one species, so they approximated the corresponding Fetishes, and reduced them at length to a principal Fetish, presiding over this class of phenomena, who thus, liberated from matter, and having of necessity an independent being of its own, became a god.
"For the gods differ essentially from pure fetishes, by a
character more general and more abstract, pertaining to their
indeterminate residence. They, each of them, administer a
special order of phenomena, and have a department more or less
extensive; while the humble fetish governs one object only,
from which it is inseparable. Now, in proportion as the
resemblance of certain phenomena was observed, it was necessary
to classify the corresponding fetishes, and to reduce them to a
chief, who, from this time, was elevated to the rank of a
god--that is to say, an ideal agent, habitually invisible,
whose residence is not rigorously fixed. There could not exist,
properly speaking, a fetish common to several bodies; this
would be a contradiction, every fetish being necessarily
endowed with a material individuality. When, for example, the
similar vegetation of the several trees in a forest of oaks,
led men to represent, in their theological conceptions, what
was _common_ in these objects, this abstract being could no
longer be the fetish of a tree, but became the god of the
forest."--P. 101.
This apparatus of transition is ingenious enough, but surely it is utterly uncalled for. The same uncultured imagination that could animate a tree, could people the air with gods. Whenever the cause of any natural event is _invisible_, the imagination cannot rest in Fetishism; it must create some being to produce it. If thunder is to be theologically explained--and there is no event in nature more likely to suggest such explanation--the imagination cannot animate the thunder; it must create some being that thunders. No one, the discipline of whose mind had not been solely and purely _scientific_, would have created for itself this difficulty, or solved it in such a manner.[51]
[51] At the end of the same chapter from which this extract is
taken, the _Doctor_ tells a story which, if faith could be put
in the numerous accounts which men relate of themselves, (and
such, we presume, was the original authority for the anecdote,)
might deserve a place in the history of superstition.
"One of the most distinguished men of the age, who has left a
reputation which will be as lasting as it is great, was, when a
boy, in constant fear of a very able but unmerciful
schoolmaster; and in the state of mind which that constant fear
produced, he fixed upon a great spider for his fetish, and used
every day to pray to it that he might not be flogged."
* * * * *
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Blackwood's Edinburgh Magazine — Volume 53, No. 329, March, 1843Chapter XII: Part XII: The Parsonage (9)
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