General View of Positivism — Chapter 5 The Relation Of Positivism To Art Part 2

Thus Positivism explains and confirms the view ordinarily taken of Poetry, by placing it midway between Philosophy and Polity; issuing from the first, and preparing the way for the second.

Even Feeling itself, the highest principle of our existence, accepts the objective dogma of Philosophy, that Humanity is subject to the order of the external world.

And Imagination on still stronger grounds must accept the same law.

The ideal must always be subordinate to the real; otherwise feebleness as well as extravagance is the consequence.

The statesman who endeavours to improve the existing order, must first study it as it exists.

And the poet, although his improvements are but imagined, and are not supposed capable of realization, must do likewise.

True in his fictions he will transcend the limits of the possible, while the statesman will keep within those limits; but both have the same point of departure; both begin by studying the actual facts with which they deal.

In our artificial improvements we should never aim at anything more than wise modification of the natural order; we should never attempt to subvert it.

And though Imagination has a wider range for its pictures, they are yet subject to the same fundamental law, imposed by Philosophy upon Polity and Poetry alike.

Even in the most poetic ages this law has always been recognized, only the external world was interpreted then in a way very differently from now.

We see the same thing every day in the mental growth of the child.

As his notions of fact change, his fictions are modified in conformity with these changes.

But while Poetry depends upon Philosophy for the principles on which its types are constructed, it influences Polity by the direction which it gives to those types.

In every operation that man undertakes, he must imagine before he executes, as he must observe before he imagines.

He can never produce a result which he has not conceived first in his own mind.

In the simplest application of mechanics or geometry he finds it necessary to form a mental type, which is always more perfect than the reality which it precedes and prepares.

Now none but those who confound poetry with verse-making can fail to see that this conception of a type is the same thing as esthetic imagination, under its simplest and most general aspect.

Its application to social phenomena, which constitute the chief sphere both of Art and of Science, is very imperfectly understood as yet, and can hardly be said to have begun, owing to the want of any true theory of society.

The real object of so applying it is, that it should regulate the formation of social Utopias; subordinating them to the laws of social development as revealed by history.

Utopias are to the Art of social life what geometrical and mechanical types are to their respective arts.

In these their necessity is universally recognized; and surely the necessity cannot be less in problems of such far greater intricacy.

Accordingly we see that, notwithstanding the empirical condition in which political art has hitherto existed, every great change has been ushered in, one or two centuries beforehand, by an Utopia bearing some analogy to it.

It was the product of the esthetic genius of Humanity working under an imperfect sense of its conditions and requirements.

Positivism, far from laying an interdict on Utopias, tends rather to facilitate their employment and their influence, as a normal element in society.

Only, as in the case of all other products of imagination, they must always remain subordinated to the actual laws of social existence.

And thus by giving a systematic sanction to this the Poetry, as it may be called, of Politics, most of the dangers which now surround it will disappear.

Its present extravagances arise simply from the absence of some philosophical principle to control it, and therefore there is no reason for regarding them with great severity.

The whole of this theory may be summed up in the double meaning of the word so admirably chosen to designate our esthetic functions.

The word _Art_ is a remarkable instance of the popular instinct from which language proceeds, and which is far more enlightened than educated persons are apt to suppose.

It indicates, however vaguely, a sense of the true position of Poetry, midway between Philosophy and Polity, but with a closer relation to the latter.

True, in the case of the technical arts the improvements proposed are practically realized, while those of the fine arts remain imaginary.

Poetry, however, does produce one result of an indirect but most essential kind; it does actually modify our moral nature.

If we include oratory, which is only Poetry in a simpler phase, though often worthless enough, we find its influence exerted in a most difficult and critical task, that of arousing or calming our passions; and this not arbitrarily, but in accordance with the fixed laws of their action.

Here it has always been recognized as a moral agency of great power.

On every ground, then, Poetry seems more closely related to practical than to speculative life.

For its practical results are of the most important and comprehensive nature.

Whatever the utility of other arts, material, physical, or intellectual, they are only subsidiary or preparatory to that which in Poetry is the direct aim, moral improvement.

In the Middle Ages it was common in all Western languages to speak of it as a Science, the proper meaning of the word Science being then very imperfectly understood.

But as soon as both artistic and scientific genius had become more fully developed, their distinctive features were more clearly recognized, and finally the name of Art was appropriated to the whole class of poetic functions.

The fact is, at all events, an argument in favour of the Positive theory of idealization, as standing midway between theoretical inquiry and practical result.

[Art calls each element of our nature into harmonious action] Evidently, then, it is in Art that the unity of human natures finds its most complete and most natural representation.

For Art is in direct relation with the three orders of phenomena by which human nature is characterized; Feelings, Thoughts, and Actions.

It originates in Feeling; the proof of this is even more obvious than in the case of Philosophy and Polity.

It has its basis in Thought, and its end is Action.

Hence its power of exerting an influence for good alike on every phase of our existence, whether personal or social.

Hence too its peculiar attribute of giving equal pleasure to all ranks and ages.

Art invites the thinker to leave his abstractions for the study of real life; it elevates the practical man into a region of thought where self-love has no place.

By its intermediate position it promotes the mutual reaction of Affection and Reason.

It stimulates feeling in those who are too much engrossed with intellectual questions: it strengthens the contemplative faculty in natures where sympathy predominates.

It has been said of Art that its province is to hold a mirror to nature.

The saying is usually applied to social life where its truth is most apparent.

But it is no less true of every aspect of our existence; for under every aspect it may be a source of Art, and may be represented and modified by it.

Turning to Biology for the cause of this sociological relation, we find it in the relation of the muscular and nervous systems.

Our motions, involuntary at first, and then voluntary, indicate internal impressions, moral impressions more especially; and as they proceed from them, so they react upon them.

Here we find the first germ of a true theory of Art.

Throughout the animal kingdom language is simply gesticulation of a more or less expressive kind.

And with man esthetic development begins in the same spontaneous way.

[Three stages in the esthetic process: Imitation, Idealization, Expression] With this primary principle we may now complete our statical theory of Art, by indicating in it three distinct degrees or phases.

The fine arts have been divided into imitative and inventive; but this distinction has no real foundation.

Art always imitates, and always idealizes.

True, as the real is in every case the source of the ideal, Art begins at first with simple Imitation.

In the childhood, whether of men or of the race, as also with the lower animals, servile imitation, and that of the most insignificant actions, is the only symptom of esthetic capacity.

No representation, however, has at present any claim to the title of Art (although from motives of puerile vanity the name is often given to it), except so far as it is made more beautiful, that is to say, more perfect.

The representation thus becomes in reality more faithful, because the principal features are brought prominently forward, instead of being obscured by a mass of unmeaning detail.

This it is which constitutes Idealization; and from the time of the great masterpieces of antiquity, it has become more and more the characteristic feature of esthetic productions.

But in recognizing the superiority of Idealization as the second stage of Art, we must not forget the necessity of its first stage, Imitation.

Without it neither the origin nor the nature of Art could be correctly understood.

In addition to the creative process, which is the chief characteristic of Art, there is a third function which, though not absolutely necessary in its imitative stage, becomes in its ideal stage.

I mean the function of Expression strictly so called, without which the product of imagination could not be communicated to others.

Language, whether it be the Language of sound or form, is the last stage of the esthetic operation, and it does not always bear a due proportion to the inventive faculty.

When it is too defective, the sublimest creations may be ranked lower than they deserve, owing to the failure of the poet to communicate his thought completely.

Great powers of style may, on the other hand, confer unmerited reputation, which however does not endure.

An instance of this is the preference that was given for so long a time to Racine over Corneille.

So long as Art is confined to Imitation, no special language is required; imitation is itself the substitute for language.

But as soon as the representation has become idealized by heightening some features and suppressing or altering others, it corresponds to something which exists only in the mind of the composer; and its communication to the world requires additional labour devoted exclusively to Expression.

In this final process so necessary to the complete success of his work, the poet moulds his signs upon his inward type; just as he began at first by adapting them to external facts.

So far there is some truth in Grétry’s principle that song is derived from speech by the intermediate stage of declamation.

The same principle has been applied to all the special arts; it might also be applied to Poetry, oratory being the link between verse and prose.

These views, however, are somewhat modified by the historical spirit of Positive Philosophy.

We must invert Grétry’s relation of cause and effect; at least when we are considering those primitive times, when Art and Language first arose together.

The origin of all our faculties of expression is invariably esthetic;

for we do not express till after we have felt strongly.

Feeling had, in primitive times at all events, far more to do with these faculties than Thought, being a far stronger stimulant to external demonstration.

Even in the most highly wrought languages, where, in consequence of social requirements, reason has to a great extent encroached upon emotion, we see evidence of this truth.

There is a musical element in the most ordinary conversation.

Listening carefully to a lecture on the most abstruse mathematical problem, we shall hear intonations which proceed obviously from the heart rather than the head, and which are indications of character even in the most unimpassioned speaker.

Biology at once explains this law, by teaching that the stimulus to the muscles used in expression, whether vocal or gesticulatory, comes principally from the affective region of the brain; the specu-region being too inert to produce muscular contraction for which there is no absolute necessity.

Accordingly, Sociology regards every language as containing in its primitive elements all that is spontaneous and universal in the esthetic development of Humanity; enough, that is, to satisfy the general need of communicating emotion.

In this common field the special arts commence, and they ultimately widen it.

But the operation is the same in its nature, whether carried on by popular instinct or by individuals.

The final result is always more dependent on feeling than on reason, even in times like these, when the intellect has risen in revolt against the heart.

Song, therefore, comes before Speech; Painting before Writing; because the first things we express are those which move our feelings most.

Subsequently the necessities of social life oblige us to employ more frequently, and ultimately to develop, those elements in painting or in song, which relate to our practical wants and to our speculative faculties so far as they are required for supplying them; these forming the topics of ordinary communication.

Thus the emotion from which the sign had originally proceeded becomes gradually effaced; the practical object is alone thought of, and expression becomes more rapid and less emphatic.

The process goes on until at last the sign is supposed to have originated in arbitrary convention; though, if this were the case, its universal and spontaneous adoption would be inexplicable.

Such, then, is the sociological theory of Language, on which I shall afterwards dwell more fully.

I connect it with the whole class of esthetic functions, from which in the lower animals it is not distinguished.

For no animal idealizes its song or gesture so far as to rise to anything that can properly be called Art.

[Classification of the arts on the principle of decreasing generality, and increasing intensity] To complete our examination of the philosophy of Art, statically viewed, we have now only to speak of the order in which the various arts should be classified.

Placed as Art is, midway between Theory and Practice, it is classified on the same principle, the principle, that is of decreasing generality, which I have long ago shown to be applicable to all Positive classifications of whatever kind.

We have already obtained from it a scale of the Beautiful, answering in most points to that which was first laid down for the True, and which we applied afterwards to the Good.

By following it in the present instance, we shall be enabled to range the arts in the order of their conception and succession, as was done in my Treatise on Positive Philosophy for the various branches of Science and Industry.

The arts, then, should be classified by the decreasing generality and the increasing intensity, which involves also increasing technicality, of their modes of expression.

In its highest term the esthetic scale connects itself with the scientific scale; and in its lowest with the industrial scale.

This is in conformity with the position assigned to Art intermediate between Philosophy and Practical life.

Art never becomes disconnected from human interests; but as it becomes less general and more technical, its relation with our higher attributes becomes less intimate, and it is more dependent on inorganic Nature, so that at last the kind of beauty depicted by it is merely material.

[Poetry] On these principles of classification we must give the first place to Poetry properly so called, as being the most general and least technical of the arts, and as being the basis on which all the rest depend.

The impressions which it produces are less intense than those of the rest, but its sphere is evidently wider, since it embraces every side of our existence, whether individual, domestic, or social.

Poetry, like the special arts, has a closer relation with actions and impulses than with thoughts.

Yet the most abstract conceptions are not excluded from its sphere; for not merely can it improve the language in which they are expressed, but it may add to their intrinsic beauty.

It is, on the whole, the most popular of all the arts, both on account of its wider scope, and also because, its instruments of expression being taken directly from ordinary language, it is more generally intelligible than any other.

True, in the highest kind of poetry versification is necessary; but this cannot be called a special art.

The language of Poetry, although distinct in form, is in reality nothing but the language of common men more perfectly expressed.

The only technical element in it, prosody, is easily acquired by a few days’ practice.

A proof of the identity of the language of Poetry with that of common life, is the fact that no poet has ever been able to write with effect in a foreign or a dead language.

And not only is this noblest of Arts more comprehensive, more spontaneous, more popular than the rest, but it surpasses them in that which is the characteristic feature of all art, Ideality.

Poetry is the art which idealizes the most, and imitates the least.

For these reasons it has always held the first place among the arts; a view which will be strengthened in proportion as we attach greater importance to idealization and less to mere expression.

In expression it is inferior to the other arts, which represent such subjects as fall within their compass with greater intensity.

But it is from Poetry that these subjects are usually borrowed.

[Music] The first term of the series being thus determined, the other arts may at once be ranked according to the degree of their affinity with Poetry.

Let us begin by distinguishing the different senses to which they appeal; and we shall find that our series proceeds on the principle which biologists, since Gall’s time, have adopted for the classification of the special senses, the principle of decreasing sociability.

There are only two senses which can be called esthetic;

namely, Sight and Hearing: the others having no power of raising us to Idealization.

The sense of smell can, it is true, enable us to associate ideas; but in man it exists too feebly for artistic effects.

Hearing and Sight correspond to the two modes of natural language, voice and gesture.

From the first arises the art of Music; the second, which however is less esthetic, includes the three arts of form.

These are more technical than Music; their field is not so wide, and moreover they stand at a greater distance from poetry; whereas Music remained for a long time identified with it.

Another distinction is that the sense to which music appeals performs its function involuntarily; and this is one reason why the emotions which it calls forth are more spontaneous and more deep, though less definite, than in the case where it depends on the will whether we receive the impression or not.

Again, the difference between them answers to the distinction of Time and Space.

The art of sound represents succession; the arts of form, co-existence.

On all these grounds music should certainly be ranked before the other special arts, as the second term of the esthetic series.

Its technical difficulties are exaggerated by pedants, whose interest it is to do so; in reality, special training is less needed for its appreciation, and even for its composition, than in the case of either painting or sculpture.

Hence it is in every respect more popular and more social.