Writings of Charles S. Peirce: A Chronological Edition, Volume 2. Charles S. Peirce

the most eminent American metaphysicians is of opinion that religion might be based on positive philosophy as Comte defines it. But though Comte’s definition labors under the ambiguity so common in French, all the world understands the term in a sense of which it is an essential part that no theory shall be admitted except in so far as it asserts or denies something with respect to a possible observation. In respect to the continuance of life in this world, positivism is even less favorable. That there always should be intellect in the universe, that there should not come a time when it all dies out forever, not only presents no preponderance of probability but is even perhaps opposed by the fact that all the conditions of the world of which we have any knowledge are mutable.

      Life upon the globe is a phase, quite accidental, tending as far as we know to no permanent end, of no sort of use, except in producing a pleasant titillation now and then on the nerves of this or that wayfarer on this weary and purposeless journey—which like a treadmill starts nowhere and goes nowhere, and whose machinery produces nothing at all. There is no good in life but its occasional pleasures; these are mostly delusive, and as like as not will soon utterly pass away.

      Let us now turn to theism. The capital principle of this is, that nature is absolutely conformed to an end; or in other words, that there is reason in the nature of things. Now from what has been said before it follows that so far as we attain true culture so far will the sum of all our impulses come to the love of reason as it necessarily is, and therefore so far as we are as we ought to be so far are we perfectly gratified by what according to the nature of things, takes place; which is another way of saying that whatever is is best. Now this is not only a consolation; it is the very sum, quintessence and acme of all consolation. That happens which so far as our own nature is developed, so far as we truly know our own mind, is what delights us most.

      Whatever palliatives to the ills of life can be applied by the sceptic are also at the command of the theist and in addition the only true consolation.

      I know very well that a great many theists are nearer pessimists than optimists but they are unsound and inconsistent. To say, however, that whatever is is best is not to deny the existence of evil, but only to maintain that if any event is bad in one way it more than counterbalances for it by being good in another and higher way.

      Positivists are in the habit of considering positivism and metaphysics as opposed species of philosophy. Now to maintain that the conclusions of metaphysics are as yet very certain would be enthusiastic enough in view of the differences of opinion among metaphysicians. These differences have been growing less and less from one century to another, owing to a gradual clearing up of conceptions. But the whole effective result of metaphysical research hitherto may be described in saying that certain indistinct conceptions have been made distinct. Every great branch of science has once been in the state in which metaphysics is now, that is when its fundamental conceptions were vague and consequently its doctrines utterly unsettled; and there is no reason whatever to despair of metaphysics eventually becoming a real science like the rest; but at present that is not the case. Now the positivist may define metaphysics, as he pleases, but if he deals with conceptions which are indistinct in his mind, he is for all purposes of certainty in the same condition as the metaphysician. That is precisely what he does do in maintaining that we can have no knowledge of any reality except single impressions of sense and their sensible relations. The question what is reality has a great pertinency here. Suppose we say it is that which is independently of our belief and which could be properly inferred by the most thorough discussion of the sum of all impressions of sense whatever. If that is what the positivist means by reality (and since he does not tell us we must guess for ourselves), then he ought to be not a sceptic but an atheist, for that which we cannot possibly be in a state to infer, is not then a reality at all. And, indeed, I should be glad to know what the positivist does mean by an existence which cannot possibly be known. Such an existence must be utterly cut off from everything knowable, for if it was in any way manifested, if it anyhow effected anything knowable, that would be some slight reason for inferring it to be. I can attach no idea to such a reality and I have not been able to find a positivist or other person who could explain it and this confirms me in the opinion that the above definition really expresses what men mean by reality.

      If therefore I am asked as a theist what I have to reply to the arguments of the positivist against religion, I reply in the first place, that positivism is only a particular species of metaphysics open to all the uncertainty of metaphysics, and its conclusions are for that reason of not enough weight to disturb any practical belief. We awake to reflection and find ourselves theists. Now those beliefs which come before reflection to all men alike are generally true, and the reason is that the causes which produce fallacies—depend for their operation upon a conscious process of reasoning. But apart from the weight of common sense which must be presumed to attach to theism, the fact that it is my belief itself throws the burden of proof upon its opponents. And metaphysical conclusions ought not in the present state of the science to weigh in practical affairs.

      But even if I am asked as a metaphysician whether the objections of positivism to religion seem to me to be valid, I still answer not in the least.