On the 7th of July, 1841, at nine o’clock in the morning, the remains of
S. Odile were taken out of the tomb where they had reposed so many
centuries, and exposed to public veneration on the altar of the chapel
which bears her name. On the eve of this festival Mount Hohenbourg
presented an animated spectacle. People from Alsace, Lorraine, and around
Metz arrived in crowds. In ascending the mountain they dispersed to gather
foliage and wild flowers to deck the old Church of S. Odile with. Large
vases were placed on the altars and the _boiserie_ around the church to
receive these floral offerings of successive groups. A fir‐tree from a
neighboring forest stood beside each column of the nave. Garlands of box
and of oak‐leaves hung from tree to tree and covered the trunks. S.
Odile’s tomb and altar were richly decorated and her statue crowned with
flowers. The _châsse_ of the saint was placed on an elevation elegantly
draped. Thousands of pilgrims roamed around the precincts in the evening,
visiting successively the various sanctuaries.
The Chapel of Calvary particularly attracted them. It contained Adalric’s
remains, and among others a large painting in which were displayed the
genealogies of the houses of Alsace, Lorraine, France, and Austria, all of
which drew their origin from Adalric and Berswinde, and, finally, an
antique bedstead which tradition declared once belonged to King Dagobert.
At three o’clock in the morning of July 7th the bells announced to the
impatient pilgrims that the doors of the church were open and the first
Mass about to commence. The edifice was immediately crammed; even the
sanctuary was invaded. The neighboring chapels, the large court of the
monastery, and the green in front, were soon filled; but order reigned
everywhere in the multitude of all ages, sexes, and ranks. Every face
expressed faith and the most fervent devotion. Eighty priests from Alsace,
Lorraine, the Grand Duchy of Baden, and even from Holland, enhanced by
their presence the brilliancy of this festival, at once religious and
national. Masses succeeded each other till afternoon. The venerable Curate
of Oberehnheim (the place of S. Odile’s birth), who was the bishop’s
delegate, gave the signal for the ceremony at nine o’clock A.M. The
remains of S. Odile were borne in procession by six priests. Censers waved
and the sound of the bells mingled joyfully with the music and the ancient
hymns of the church. The crowd opened for the procession to pass. Every
face lights up, hands are clasped, and tears flow from all eyes. The
president of the festival, more than eighty years of age, pronounced the
panegyric of the saint. Then followed a grand Mass, during which, and for
two hours after, a constant file of pilgrims approached to venerate a
relic of the saint. The ceremonies closed with Benediction.
The _châsse_ was exposed during the whole Octave. From that time the
concourse of pilgrims has continued. There were fifteen hundred the
following Sunday. Hundreds of Communions are daily made at Hohenbourg, and
perhaps the number of pilgrims has never been greater than of late.
Glorious Patroness of Alsace, whose great heart, while on earth, was so
full of pity for the unfortunate, pray for thy unhappy country, now
devastated and full of woe!
Wind And Tide.
I stood by the broad, deep river,
The tide flowed firm to its mouth;
I saw the sweet wind quiver,
As it rose in the golden south.
On the river’s bosom it fluttered,
And kissed and caressed all day,
And joys of the south it muttered:
But the tide kept its northern way.
Tender and chaste was its suing,
Till the face of the river‐bride
Rippled and gleamed in the wooing:
But northward flowed the tide.
And so, thought I, God’s graces
Woo our souls the livelong day,
Which brighten and smile in their faces:
Sin bears us another way.
Matter. IV.
To complete our investigation about the essential properties of matter,
one great question remains to be answered, viz.: _Is the matter of which
bodies are made up intrinsically extended so as to fill a portion of
space, or does it ultimately consist of unextended points?_ We call this a
great question, not indeed because of any great difficulty to be
encountered in its solution, but because it has a great importance in
metaphysics, and because it has been at all times much ventilated by great
philosophers.
That bodies do not fill with their matter the dimensions of their volume
is conceded by all, as porosity is a general property of bodies. That the
molecules, or chemical atoms, of which the mass of a body is composed, do
not touch one another with their matter, but are separated by appreciable
intervals of space, is also admitted by our best scientists, though many
of them are of opinion that those intervals are filled with a subtle
medium, by which calorific and luminous vibrations are supposed to be
propagated. But with regard to the molecules themselves, the question,
whether their constitution is continuous or discrete, has not yet been
settled. Some teach, with the old physicists, that bodies are ultimately
made up of particles materially continuous, filling with their mass the
whole space occupied by their volume. These last particles they call
_atoms_, because their mass is not susceptible of physical division,
although their volume is infinitely divisible in a mathematical sense.
Others, on the contrary, deny the material continuity of matter, and hold
with Boscovich that, as all bodies are composed of discrete molecules, so
are all molecules composed of discrete elements wholly destitute of
material extension, occupying distinct mathematical points in space, and
bound by mutual action in mechanical systems differently constituted,
according to the different nature of the substances to which they belong.
Which of these two opinions is right? Although scientists more generally
incline to the second, metaphysicians are still in favor of the first. Yet
we do not hesitate to say, though it may appear presumptuous on our part,
that it is not difficult to decide the question. Let the reader follow our
reasoning upon the subject, and we confidently predict that he will soon
be satisfied of the truth of our assertion.
_Groundless assumption of continuous matter._—As the true metaphysics of
matter must be grounded on real facts, we may first inquire what facts, if
any, can be adduced in favor of the intrinsic extension and material
continuity of molecules. Is there any sensible fact which directly or
indirectly proves such a continuity?
We must answer in the negative. For sensible facts are perceived by us in
consequence of the impressions which objects make on our senses; if,
therefore, such impressions are not calculated to reveal anything
concerning the question of material continuity, no sensible fact can be
adduced as a proof of the continuity of matter. Now, the impressions made
on our senses cannot reveal anything about our question. For we know that
bodies contain not only millions of pores, which are invisible to the
naked eye, but also millions of movable and separate particles, which are
so minute that no microscope can make them visible, and which, though so
extremely minute, are composed of millions of other particles still more
minute, which have independent movements, and therefore possess an
independent existence. There are many species of animalcules (_infusoria_)
so small that millions together would not equal the bulk of a grain of
sand, and thousands might swim at once through the eye of a needle. These
almost infinitesimal animals are as well adapted to life as the largest
beasts, and their movements display all the phenomena of life, sense, and
instinct. They have nerves and muscles, organs of digestion and of
propagation, liquids and solids of different kinds, etc. It is impossible
to form a conception of the minute dimensions of these organic structures;
and yet each separate organ of every animalcule is a compound of several
organic substances, each in its turn comprising numberless atoms of
carbon, oxygen, and hydrogen. It is plain from this and other examples
that the actual magnitude of the ultimate molecules of any body is
something completely beyond the reach of our senses to perceive or of our
intellect to comprehend.(73) We must therefore concede that no impression
received by our senses is calculated to make us perceive anything like a
molecule or to give us a clue to its constitution. To say that molecules
are so many pieces of continuous matter is therefore to assert what no
sensible fact can ever reveal.
Moreover, we know of no sensible phenomenon which has any necessary
connection with the continuity of matter. Physicists and chemists, in
their scientific explanation of phenomena, have no need of assuming the
existence of continuous matter, and acknowledge that there are no facts
from which the theory of simple and unextended elements can be refuted.
And the reason of this is clear; for the phenomena can be made the ground
of experimental proofs only so far as they are perceived by our senses;
and since our perception of them is confined within the narrow limits
above described, it is impossible to draw from sensible phenomena any
distinct conclusion regarding the constitution of molecules. Hence it is
plain that no sensible fact exists which directly or indirectly proves the
continuity of matter.
Secondly, we may ask, Can the intrinsic extension and continuity of matter
be proved from the essence of material substance?
The answer must again be negative. For nothing can in any manner be
involved in, or result from, the essence of material substance, unless it
be required either by the matter, or by the substantial form, or by the
relation and proportion which must exist between the form and the matter.
But neither the matter, nor the substantial form, nor their mutual
relation requires material continuity or material extension. Therefore the
essence of material substance cannot supply us with any valid argument in
favor of the extension and continuity of matter.
In this syllogism the major proposition needs no proof, as it is evident
that material substance, like all other created things, essentially
consists of act and potency; and it is known that its act is called the
substantial form, while its potency is called _the_ matter.(74) It is
therefore manifest that, if anything has a necessary connection with the
essence of material substance, it must be of such a nature as to be needed
either by the matter or by the substantial form, or by both together.
The minor proposition can be demonstrated as follows: In the first place,
continuous quantity is not needed by the matter, whether actuated or
actuable. For, as actuable, the matter is a “mere potency” (_pura
potentia_) which has yet to receive its “first actuality” (_primum esse_),
as philosophers agree; and accordingly it has no actual quantity or
continuous extension, nor is it potential with respect to it, as its
potency regards only existence (_primum esse_), and evidently existence is
not dimensive quantity. Hence the schoolmen unanimously maintain with
Aristotle that the first matter has “no quiddity, no quality, and no
quantity” (_nec quid, nec quale, nec quantum_)—a truth which we hope fully
to explain in some future article. As actuated, the matter is nothing else
than a substantial term susceptible of local motion; for we know from
physics that material substance receives no other determination than to
local movement, and for this reason, as we remarked in another place, it
has been defined _Ens mobile_, or a movable thing. Now, a term, to be
susceptible of local motion, needs no dimensions, as is evident. And
therefore the matter, whether actuated or not, has nothing in its nature
which requires continuous extension.
In the second place, material continuity is not required by the nature of
the substantial form. This form may, in fact, be considered either as a
principle of being or as a principle of operation. As a principle of
being, it gives the first existence to its matter; and it is plain that to
give the first existence is not to give bulk. Our adversaries teach that
what gives bulk to the bodies is quantity; and yet, surely, they will not
pretend that quantity is the substantial form. On the other hand, it is
evident that _to be_ and _to have bulk_ are not the same thing; and since
the substantial form merely causes the matter _to be_, it would be absurd
to infer that it must also cause it _to be extended_. As a principle of
operation, the form needs matter only as a centre from which its exertions
are directed. Now, the direction of the exertion, as well as that of the
movement, must be taken from a point to a point, not from a bulk to a
bulk; and therefore the form, as a principle of operation, needs only one
point of matter. Thus it is clear that no material extension is required
to suit the wants of the substantial form.
In the third place, material extension is not required to make the matter
proportionate to its substantial form. We shall see later that no form
which requires a determinate quantity of mass can be a substantial form in
the strict sense of the expression; at present it will suffice to keep in
mind that the substantial form must give the first being to its matter,
and that the matter is therefore perfectly proportioned to its substantial
form by merely being in potency to receive its first being. Now, such a
potency implies no extension; for if it did, the accident would precede
the substance. Besides, the matter before its first actuation is _a
nonentity_, and, as such, is incapable of any positive disposition, as we
shall more fully explain in the sequel. But a determinate bulk would be a
positive disposition. Hence the matter which receives its first actuation
is proportionate to its form independently of material extension. We can
therefore safely conclude that the essence of material substance supplies
no proof whatever of the continuity of matter.
Thirdly, we ask, Can the continuity of matter be proved from mechanics?
Here also our answer must be negative. For the theorems of mechanics are
each and all demonstrated quite independently of the question of material
continuity. The old writers of mechanical works (or rather the old
metaphysicians, from whom these writers borrowed their notion of matter)
admitted the continuity of matter on two grounds: first, because they
thought that _nature abhorred a vacuum_; and, secondly, because they
rejected the _actio in distans_ as impossible. But we have already shown
that no action of matter upon matter is possible, except on the condition
that the matter of the agent be distant from the matter of the patient;
which implies that all the material particles, to act on their immediate
neighbors, must be separately ubicated, with intervening vacuum. And thus
the only reasons by which the ancients could plausibly support the
continuity of matter have lost all weight in the light of modern
mechanics.
Fourthly: Can the continuity of matter be inferred from geometrical
considerations?
We reply that it cannot. For geometric quantity is not a quantity of
_matter_, but a quantity of _volume_—that is, the quantity of space
mensurable within certain limits. Hence it is evident that the continuity
of the geometric quantity has nothing to do with the continuity of matter,
and is not dependent on it, but wholly depends on the possibility of a
continuous movement within the limits of the geometric space. In fact, we
have in geometry three dimensions—length, breadth, and depth, which are
simple lines. Now, a line is not conceived as made up of material points
touching and continuing one another, but as the track of a point moving
between certain limits; so that the continuity of the geometric dimensions
is not grounded on any extension or continuation of material particles,
but on the possibility of continuous movement, on which the continuity of
time also depends. We must therefore remain satisfied that no geometrical
consideration can lend the least support to the hypothesis of material
continuity.
We have thus exhausted all the sources from which any _à priori_ or _à
posteriori_ argument in favor of material continuity might have been
drawn, if any had been possible; and the result of our investigation
authorizes the conclusion that the hypothesis of continuous matter is both
scientifically and philosophically gratuitous.
_False reasonings in behalf of continuous matter._—But some philosophers,
who are afraid that the denial of material continuity may subvert all the
scholastic doctrines (to which they most laudably, but perhaps too
exclusively, adhere in questions of natural science), contend that the
existence of continuous matter can be established by good philosophical
reasons. It is therefore our duty, before we proceed further, to acquaint
our reader with such reasons, and with our answers to them.
The first reason is the following: Geometry is a real, not a chimerical,
science; and therefore it has to deal with real bodies—not indeed inasmuch
as they are substances, but inasmuch as they have a quantity which can be
considered in the abstract. Hence we must admit that the geometric
quantity is a quantity of matter considered in the abstract; and
accordingly, if the geometric quantity is continuous and infinitely
divisible, as no one doubts, the quantity of matter in the bodies must
also be continuous and infinitely divisible.
We reply that bodies have two very different kinds of quantity—the
quantity of the mass and the quantity of the volume—and that geometry
deals indeed with the latter, but has nothing to do with the former. Hence
the geometric quantity is a quantity of volume or bulk, not a quantity of
matter; and therefore to argue that, because the geometric quantity is
continuous and infinitely divisible, the same must be true of the quantity
of matter, is to make an inexcusable confusion of matter with space. The
argument might have some value, if the quantity of the volume could be
measured by the quantity of the mass; but no one who has studied the first
elements of physics can be ignorant that such is not the case. Equal
masses are found under unequal volumes, and unequal masses under equal
volumes. Volumes preserve the same geometric nature and the same geometric
quantity, be they filled with matter or not. A cubic inch of platinum and
a cubic inch of water contain different amounts of matter, since the
former weighs twenty‐one times as much as the latter; and yet they are
geometrically equal. Geometry is not concerned with the density of bodies;
and therefore geometrical quantities are altogether independent of the
quantity of matter, and cannot be altered except by altering the relative
position of the extreme terms between which their three dimensions are
measured. These dimensions are not made up of matter, but are mere
relations in space, with or without interjacent matter, representing, as
we have already observed, the quantity of continuous movement which is
possible between the correlated terms; and their continuity depends on the
continuity of space, not of matter.
The author from whom we have taken this objection pretends also that the
geometric quantity possesses no other attributes than those which belong
to all quantity, and are essential to it; whence he concludes that
whatever is predicated of geometric quantity must also be predicated of
the quantity of matter. But the assumption is evidently false; for it is
not of the essence of all quantity to be continuous as the geometric
quantity, it being manifest that discrete quantity is a true quantity,
although it has no continuity. The general notion of quantity extends to
everything which admits of _more_ or _less_; hence there is intensive
quantity, extensive quantity, and numeric quantity. The first is measured
by arbitrary degrees of intensity; the second is measured by arbitrary
intervals of space and time; the third is measured by natural units—that
is, by individual realities as they exist in nature. It is therefore
absurd to pretend that whatever can be predicated of geometric quantity
must be predicated of all kinds of quantity.
The second reason adduced in behalf of material continuity is as follows:
To deny the continuity of matter is to destroy all real extension. For how
can real extension arise from simple unextended points arranged in a
certain manner, and acting upon one another? The notions of simplicity,
order, and activity transcend the attributions of matter, and are
applicable to all spiritual beings. If, then, extension could arise from
simple unextended elements by their arrangement and actions, why could not
angels, by meeting in a sufficient number and acting on one another, give
rise to extension, and form, say, a watermelon?
This argument has no weight whatever; but, as it appeared not many years
ago in a Catholic periodical of great reputation, we have thought it best
to give it a place among other arguments of the same sort. Our answer is
that to deny the continuity of matter is not to deny real extension, but
only to maintain that _no real extension is made up of continuous matter_.
And we are by no means embarrassed to explain “how _real_ extension can
arise from simple unextended points.” The thing is very plain. Two points,
_A_ and _B_, being given in space, the interval of space between them is a
_real_ interval, _really_ determined by the _real_ points _A_ and _B_, and
_really_ determining the extension of the _real_ movement possible between
the same points. Such an interval is therefore a _real_ extension. This is
the way in which real extension arises from unextended points.
Nor can it be objected that nothing extended can be made up of unextended
points. This is true, of course, but has nothing to do with the question.
For we do not pretend that extension is _made up_ by composition of
points—which would be a very gross error—but we say that extension
_results_ from the simple position of real points in space, and that it
results not _in_ them, but _between_ them. It is the mass of the body that
is _made up_ of its components; and thus the sum _A_ + _B_ represents a
mass, not an extension. The geometric dimensions, on the contrary, consist
entirely of relations between distinct points intercepting mensurable
space. The distinct points are _the terms_ of the relation, while the
extent of the space mensurable between them by continuous movement is _the
formal reason_ of their relativity. And since this continuous movement may
extend more or less, according as the terms are variously situated, hence
the resulting relation has the nature of continuous quantity. This
suffices to show that to deny the continuity of matter is _not_ to destroy
all real extension.
And now, what shall we say of those angels freely uniting to form a
watermelon? It is hardly necessary to say that this bright idea is only a
dream. There is no volume without dimensions, no dimension without
distance, and no distance without terms distinctly ubicated in space and
marking out the point where the distance begins, and the point where it
ends. Now, nothing marks out a point in space but matter. Angels, as
destitute of matter, mark no points in space, and accordingly cannot
terminate distances nor give rise to dimensions. Had they matter, they
would, like the simple elements, possess a formal ubication in space, and
determine dimensions; but, owing to their spiritual nature, they transcend
all local determinations, and have no formal ubication except in the
intellectual sphere of their spiritual operation. It is therefore owing to
their spirituality, and not to their simplicity, that they cannot form
themselves into a volume. Lastly, we must not forget that the “angelic”
watermelon should have not only volume, but mass also. Such a mass would,
of course, be made up without matter. How a mass can be conceived without
matter is a profound secret, which the author of the argument very
prudently avoided to reveal. But let us come to another objection.
A third reason adduced in favor of continuous matter is that we cannot,
without employing a vicious circle, account for the extension of bodies by
the notion either of space, distance, or movement. For these notions
already presuppose extension, and cannot be formed without a previous
knowledge of what extension is. To think of space is, in fact, to think of
extension. So also distance cannot be conceived except by imagining
something extended, which lies, or can lie, between the distant terms.
Hence, to avoid the vicious circle, it is necessary to trace the origin of
our notion of extension to the matter we see in the bodies. And therefore
our very notion of extension is a sufficient proof of the existence of
continuous matter.
We reply that this reason is even less plausible than the preceding one.
To form the abstract notion of extension, we must first directly perceive
some extension in the concrete, in the same manner as we must perceive
concrete humanity in individual men before we conceive humanity in the
abstract. But in all sensible movements we directly perceive extension
through space and time. Therefore from sensible movements, _without a
previous knowledge of extension_, we can form the notion of extension in
general. Is there any one who can find in this a vicious circle?
This answer might suffice. But we will further remark that the argument
may be retorted against its author. For if we cannot conceive movement as
extending in space without a _previous_ knowledge of extension, how can we
conceive matter as extending in space without a _previous_ knowledge of
extension? And how can we conceive matter as continuous without a
_previous_ knowledge of continuity, or time as enduring without a
_previous_ knowledge of duration? To these questions the author of the
argument can give no satisfactory answer without solving his own
objection. Space, distance, and movement, says he, involve extension; and
_therefore_ they cannot be known “without a previous knowledge of what
extension is.” It is evident that this conclusion is illogical; for if
space, distance, and movement imply extension, we cannot perceive space,
distance, and movement without directly perceiving extension; and, since
the direct perception of a thing does not require a _previous_ knowledge
of it, the logical conclusion should have been that, to perceive space,
distance, and movement, no previous knowledge of extension is needed.
On the other hand, while our senses perceive the extension of continuous
movement in space, they are not competent to perceive material continuity
in natural bodies. Hence it is from movement, and not from matter, that
our notion of continuous extension is derived. In fact, to form a
conception of the dimensions of a body, we survey it by a continuous
movement of our eyes from one end of it to the other. In this movement the
eye glides over innumerable pores, by which the material particles of the
body are separated. If our conception of the geometric extension of the
body depended on the continuity of its matter, these pores, as not
consisting of continuous matter, should all be thrown away in the
measurement of the body. Why, then, do we consider them as contributing
with their own dimensions to form the total dimensions of the body? Merely
because the geometric dimensions are estimated by movement, and not by
matter.
Nor is it in the least strange that we should know extension from
movement, and not from matter. For no one can perceive extension between
two terms, unless he measures by continuous movement the space intercepted
between them. The local relation between two terms cannot, in fact, be
perceived otherwise than by referring the one term to the other through
space; hence no one ever perceives a distance between two given terms
otherwise than by drawing, at least mentally, a line from the one to the
other—that is, otherwise than by measuring by some movement the extent of
the movement which can take place between the two given terms. And this is
what the very word _extension_ conveys. For this word is composed of the
preposition _ex_, which connotes the term from which the movement begins,
and of the verb _tendere_, which is a verb of motion. And thus everything
shows that it is from motion, and not from continuous matter, that our
first notion of extension proceeds.
A sharp opponent, however, might still object that before we can perceive
any movement we need to perceive something movable—that is, visible
matter. But no matter is visible unless it be extended. Therefore
extension must be perceived in matter itself before we can perceive it in
local movement.
But we answer, first, that although nothing can be perceived by our senses
unless it be extended, nevertheless we can see extended things without
perceiving their extension. Thus we see many stars as mere points in
space, and yet we can perceive their movement from the east to the west.
Hence, although matter is not visible unless it be extended, it does not
follow that extension must be first perceived in matter itself.
Secondly, we answer that when we perceive the movable matter as extended,
we do not judge of its extension by its movement, but by the movement
which we ourselves have to make in going from one of its extremities to
the other. This is the only way of perceiving extension in space. For how
could we conceive anything as extended, if we could not see that it has
parts outside of parts? And how could we pronounce that anything has parts
outside of parts, if we did not see that between one part and another
there is a possibility of local movement? On the other hand, as soon as we
perceive the possibility of local movement between distinct parts, we have
sufficient evidence of geometric extension. And thus we have no need of
continuous matter in order to perceive the volume of bodies.
Before we dismiss this subject, we must add that the advocates of
continuous matter, while fighting against us, shield themselves with two
other arguments. If matter is not continuous, they say, bodies will
consist of mere mathematical points acting at a distance; but _actio in
distans_ is the extreme of absurdity, and therefore bodies cannot consist
of mathematical points. They also allege that _nature abhors a vacuum_,
and therefore all space must be filled up with matter; which would be
impossible, were not matter continuous. That nature abhors a vacuum was
once considered a physical axiom; but, since science has destroyed the
physical grounds on which the pretended axiom rested, metaphysics has in
its turn been appealed to, that the time‐honored dictum may not be
consigned to complete oblivion. It has therefore been pretended that space
without matter is a mere delusion, and consequently that to make extension
dependent on empty intervals of space imagined to intervene between
material points is to give a chimerical solution of the question of
material extension.
The first of these two arguments we have fully answered in our last
article, and we shall not again detain our readers with it. Let us notice,
however, that when the elements of matter are called “mathematical”
points, the sense is not that they are not physical, but only that those
physical points are mathematically, or rigorously, unextended.
The second argument assumes that space void of matter is nothing. As we
cannot enter here into a detailed examination of the nature of absolute
space, we shall content ourselves with the following answer: 1st. All real
relations require a real foundation. Real distances are real relations.
Therefore real distances have a real foundation. But their foundation is
nothing else than absolute space; and therefore absolute space is a
reality. 2d. If empty space is nothing, then bodies were created in
nothing, occupy nothing, and all spaces actually occupied are nothing. To
say, as so many have said, that empty space is nothing, and that space
occupied by matter is a reality, is to say that _the absolute is nothing
until it becomes relative_—a proposition which is the main support of
German pantheism, and which every man of sense must reject. 3d. Of two
different recipients, the greater has a greater capacity independently of
the matter which it may contain; for, whether it be filled with the rarest
gas or with the densest metal, its capacity does not vary. It is therefore
manifest that its capacity is not determined by the matter it contains,
but only by the space intercepted between its limits. In the same manner
the smaller recipient has less capacity, irrespective of the matter it may
contain, and only in consequence of the space intercepted. If, therefore,
space, prescinding from the matter occupying it, is nothing, the greater
capacity will be a greater nothing, and the less capacity a less nothing.
But greater and less imply quantity, and quantity is something. Therefore
nothing will be something.
We hope we shall hereafter have a better opportunity of developing these
and other considerations on space; but the little we have said is
sufficient, we believe, to show that the assumption of the unreality of
space unoccupied by matter is a philosophical absurdity.
We conclude that the existence of continuous matter cannot be proved, and
that those philosophers who still admit it cannot account for it by
anything like a good argument. They can only shelter themselves behind the
prejudices of their infancy, which they have been unable to discard, or
behind the venerable authority of the ancients, who, though deserving our
admiration in other respects, were led astray by the same popular
prejudices, owing to their limited knowledge of natural science. We may be
allowed to add that if the ancient philosophers are not to be blamed for
admitting continuous matter, the same cannot be said of those among our
contemporaries who, in the present state of science, are still satisfied
with their authority on the subject.
_Mysterious attributes of continuous matter._—Now, let us suppose that
bodies, or their molecules, are made up of continuous matter, just as our
opponents maintain; and let us see what must necessarily follow from such
a gratuitous assumption. In the first place, it follows that _a piece of
continuous matter cannot be actuated by a single substantial act_. This is
easily proved.
For a single act gives a single actual being; which is inconsistent with
the nature of continuous matter. Matter, to be continuous, must actually
contain distinct parts, united indeed, but having distinct ubications in
space. Now, with a single substantial act there cannot be distinct actual
parts; for all actual distinction, according to the axiom of the schools,
implies distinct acts: _Actus est qui distinguit._ Therefore continuous
matter cannot be actuated by a single substantial act.
Again, a piece of continuous matter has dimensions, of which the beginning
and the end must be quite distinct, the existence of the one not being the
existence of the other. But it is impossible for two things which have a
distinct existence to be under the same substantial act; for there cannot
be two existences without two formal principles. Hence, if there were any
continuous matter, the beginning and the end of its dimensions should be
actuated by distinct acts; and the same would be true of any two distinct
points throughout the same dimensions. Nor does it matter that the
dimensions are supposed to be formed of one unbroken piece; for, before we
conceive distinct parts, or terms, as forming the continuation of one
another, we must admit the substance of such parts, as their continuation
presupposes their being. Hence, however intimately the parts may be
united, they always remain substantially distinct; which implies that each
one of them must have its own substantial act.
Moreover, continuous extension is divisible. If, then, there is anywhere a
piece of continuous matter, it may be divided into two, by God at least.
But as division is not a magical operation, and does not give the first
existence to the things which are divided, it is plain that the parts
which after the division exist separately must have had their own distinct
existence before the division; and, evidently, they could not have a
distinct existence without being actuated by distinct substantial acts.
What we say of these two parts applies to whatever other parts are
obtainable by continuing the division. Whence it is manifest that
continuous matter needs as many substantial acts as it has divisible
parts.
The advocates of continuous matter try to decline this consequence by
pretending that matter, so long as it is undivided, is _one_ matter and
needs only one form; but this form, according to them, is divisible; hence
when the matter is divided, each part of the matter retains its own
portion of the substantial form, and thus the same form which gives
existence to the whole gives existence to the separate parts. This is,
however, a mere subterfuge; for the undivided matter is indeed one
accidentally, inasmuch as it has no _division_ of parts; but it is not one
substantially, because it has _distinction_ of parts. This distinction
exists before the division is made, and we have already seen that no
actual distinction is possible without distinct acts. And again, the
hypothesis that substantial forms are divisible, is a ridiculous fiction,
to say the least. For nothing is divisible which has no multiplicity of
parts and consequently a multiplicity of acts. How, then, can a
substantial act, which is a single act, be conceived as divisible?
They also argue that as the soul, which is a simple form, actuates the
whole matter of the body, so can the material form actuate continuous
matter. This comparison may have some weight with those who confound the
_essential_ with the _substantial_ forms, and believe that the soul gives
the first being to the matter of the body. But the truth is that the
substance of the soul is the _essential_ form of the living organism, and
not the _substantial_ form giving the first being to matter. The organism
and its matter must have their being in nature before being animated by
the soul; each part of matter in the body has therefore its own distinct
material form and its own distinct existence. The soul is a principle of
life, and gives nothing but life.(75) Hence the aforesaid comparison is
faulty, and leads to no conclusion.
In the second place it follows that _no continuous matter can be styled a
single substance_.
For within the dimensions of continuous matter there must be as many
distinct substantial acts as there are material points distinct from one
another; it being clear that distinct points cannot have the same
substantial actuation, and accordingly require distinct substantial acts
and constitute distinct substances. Against this some will object that a
mere point of matter is incapable of supporting the substantial form. But
we have already shown that the substantial form is not _supported_ by its
matter, as the objection assumes, but only terminated to it, the matter
being the substantial term, not the subject, of the substantial form.(76)
On the other hand, it is manifest that a form naturally destined to act in
a sphere, by actuating a single point of matter, actuates just as much
matter as its nature requires. For it is from a single point, not from
many, that the action must be directed. Hence nothing more than a point of
matter is required to terminate the substantial form and to constitute a
perfect substance. Additional proofs of this truth will be found in our
next article, where we shall rigorously demonstrate the impossibility of
continuous matter. Meanwhile, nothing withstands our conclusion that there
must be as many distinct substances in continuous matter as there are
distinct points within its dimensions.
In the third place, it follows that _this multitude of distinct substances
is not merely potential, but actual_.
This conclusion is very clear. For every multitude of actual parts is an
actual multitude, or, as they say, a multitude in act. But in continuous
matter all the parts are actual, although they are not actually separated.
Therefore the multitude of such parts is an actual multitude.
The upholders of continuous matter do not admit that this multitude is
actual; they contend that it is only potential. For were they to concede
that it is actual, they would be compelled to admit either that it is
actually finite, or that it is actually infinite. Now, they cannot say
that it is actually finite, because this would be against the well‐known
nature of continuum, which admits of an endless division, and therefore
contains a multitude of parts which has no end. On the other hand, they
cannot say that it is actually infinite; because, even admitting the
absolute possibility of a multitude actually infinite, it would still be
absurd to assert that such is the case with a piece of matter having
finite dimensions. Indeed, Leibnitz and Descartes did not hesitate to
teach this latter absurdity; but they could not make it fashionable, and
were soon abandoned even by their own disciples. Thus the difficulty
remained; and philosophers, being unable to solve it, tried to decline it
by denying that there can be in the continuum an _actual_ multitude of
parts. This was, in fact, the view of the old advocates of continuous
matter, who uniformly admitted that the parts of an unbroken continuum are
merely _potential_, and form a potential multitude. For, they say, the
_actual_ multitude results from actual division, and therefore has no
existence in the undivided continuum.
This last view would be very good, if the continuum in question were
_successive_—as is the case with movement and time, which are always _in
fieri_, and exist only by infinitesimals in an infinitesimal present, or
if the continuum in question were _virtual_, as is the case with any
mensurable interval of space; for evidently in these continuums no
_actual_ multitude is to be found. But the case is quite different with
continuous matter. For he who asserts the existence of continuous matter
asserts the existence of a thing having parts _formally_ distinct and
_simultaneous_. He therefore affirms the actual existence of a formal
multitude of distinct parts, or, in other terms, an actual multitude. To
deny the actual multitude of the parts, on the plea that there is no
actual division, is to take refuge in a miserable sophism, which consists
in denying the substantial distinction of the parts on the ground that
they are not divided, and in ignoring their actual being solely because
they have not a certain special mode of being.
As to the axiom that “Number results from division,” two things are to be
noticed. The first is that the term “division” here means _mensuration_,
not separation. Thus we divide the day into twenty‐four hours, without
discontinuing time for all that; and in like manner we divide the length
of a journey into miles without discontinuing space. This shows that the
numbers obtained by the division of the continuum are only artificially or
virtually discrete, and that the continuum remains unbroken. The second is
that a number is not merely a multitude, but a multitude measured by a
certain unit, as S. Thomas aptly defines it: _Numerus est multitudo
mensurata per unum_. Hence, if the unit of measure is arbitrary (as is the
case with all continuous quantities), the same quantity can be expressed
by different numbers, according as a different unit is employed in
measuring it. But so long as the unit is not determined, the quantity
cannot be expressed by any definite number. And if the unit employed be
less than any given finite quantity, the thing which is measured will
contain a multitude of such units greater than any given number. All such
units exist in the thing measured prior to its mensuration; and as such
units are actual and distinct, there can be no doubt that they constitute
an actual multitude.
Some modern advocates of continuous matter have imagined another means of
evading the difficulty. Tongiorgi admits extended atoms of continuous
matter, but denies that their parts are _actually_ distinct. As, however,
he confesses that extension requires parts outside of parts (_Cosmol._, n.
143), we may ask him: Are not such parts _actually_ distinct? Distinction
is a negation of identity; and surely parts existing actually outside of
one another are not actually identical. They are therefore actually
distinct. Now, to use the very words of the author, “where there are
distinct parts there is a plurality of units, that is, a multitude,
although the parts which are distinct be united in a common term, as is
the case with the parts of continuum”;(77) and therefore it is manifest
that the continuous atom involves actual multitude.
Liberatore does not entirely deny the actual distinction of the parts in
continuous matter, but maintains that the distinction is _incomplete_, and
accordingly cannot give rise to an actual multitude. The parts of a
continuum, says he, are united in a common term; hence they are
incompletely distinct, and make no number, but are all one. They are
outside of one another, yet in such a manner as to be also inside of one
another. They do not subsist in themselves, but in the whole. The whole
displays many parts, but it is one, and its parts are so indeterminate
that they cannot be measured except by an arbitrary measure.(78)
This view scarcely deserves to be discussed, as the author himself owns
that it makes continuous matter seem somewhat
contradictory—_Contradictoriis quodammodo notis subditur_—though he
attributes this kind of contradiction to the opposition which exists
between the matter and the form—an explanation which we do not admit for
reasons which we shall give in our next article. But as to the assertion
that the parts of a continuum, on account of their having a common term,
are only _incompletely_ distinct, we can show at once that the author is
much mistaken. Incomplete distinction is a distinction which does not
completely exclude identity. Hence where there is incomplete distinction
there is also incomplete identity. Now, not a shadow of identity is to be
found between any two parts of continuum. Therefore any two parts of
continuum are completely distinct. Thus each of the twenty‐four hours into
which we divide the day is completely distinct from every other, although
the one is united with the other in a common term; for it is evident that
the common term, having no extension, is no part of extension, and
therefore cannot originate identity between any two parts of extension. To
say that there is some identity, and therefore an incomplete distinction,
between two extensions, because they have a common term which has no
extension, is to pretend that the unextended has some identity with the
extended; and this pretension is absurd. We conclude that, in spite of all
the efforts of our opponents, it is manifest that continuous matter would
be an _actual_ multitude of distinct, though not separated, substances.
Lastly, it follows that _actual continuous matter would be an actual
infinite multitude of substances_.
This conclusion is fully warranted by the infinite divisibility of the
continuum. But here again the advocates of material continuity contend
that this divisibility is potential, and can never be reduced to act;
whence they infer that the multitude of the parts is not actual, but
potential. We, however, repeat that if the division is potential, the
divisible matter is certainly actual; and therefore the potency of an
infinite division presupposes an infinite multitude of distinct terms
actually existing in the divisible matter. And as we have already shown
that each distinct term must have a distinct substantial act, we must
conclude that the least piece of continuous matter would consist of an
infinite actual multitude of substances—a consequence whose monstrosity
needs no demonstration.
Hence we are not surprised to see that Goudin, one of the great champions
of the old physics, considers continuous matter as “a philosophic mystery,
about which reason teaches more than it can understand, and objects more
than it can answer.”(79) He tries, however, to explain the mystery in some
manner, by adding that “when the continuum is said to be infinitely
divisible, this must be understood mathematically, not physically—that is,
by considering the quantity as it is in itself, not as it is the property
of a corporeal form. For in the process of the division we might finally
reach a part so small that, if smaller, it would be insufficient to bear
any natural form. Nevertheless, mathematically speaking, in that smallest
physical part there would still be two halves, and in these halves other
halves, and so on without end.”(80)
This explanation is taken from S. Thomas (I _Phys._, lect. I.), and shows
philosophical thought; but, far from solving the difficulty, it rather
proves that it is insoluble. For if, mathematically speaking, in the
smallest bit of continuous matter there are still halves, and halves of
halves, clearly there are in it distinct parts of matter, and therefore
distinct forms actuating each of them distinctly, as the being of each
part is not the being of any other part. It is therefore false that
nothing smaller is sufficient to bear any natural form. And hence the
difficulty is not solved. On the other hand, the necessity of resorting to
purely mathematical (geometric) quantity clearly shows that it is _the
space_ inclosed in the volume of the body (of which alone geometry
treats), and not _the matter_ (of which geometry has nothing to say), that
is infinitely divisible; and this amounts to a confession that continuous
matter has no existence.
While making these remarks, we willingly acknowledge that S. Thomas and
all the ancients who considered air, water, fire, and earth as the first
elements of all things, were perfectly consistent in teaching that natural
forms require a definite amount of matter. For by “natural forms” they
meant those forms from which the specific properties of sensible things
emanate. Now, all things that are sensible are materially compounded in a
greater or less degree, and possess properties which cannot be ascribed to
a single material point. So far, then, these ancient philosophers were
right. But they should have considered that the required amount of matter
ought to consist of distinct parts, having their own distinct being, and
therefore their own distinct substantial acts. This would have led them to
the conclusion that the natural form of air, water, etc., was not a form
giving the first being to the material parts, but a form of natural
composition giving the first being to the compound nature. But let us stop
here for the present. We have shown that continuous matter cannot be
proved to exist, and is, at best, a “philosophic mystery.” In our next
article we shall go a step further, and prove that material continuity is
a metaphysical impossibility.
To Be Continued.
New Publications.
ALZOG’S UNIVERSAL CHURCH HISTORY. Pabisch and Byrne. Vol I.
Cincinnati: Robert Clarke & Co. 1874. (New York: Sold by The
Catholic Publication Society.)
This manual for ecclesiastical students is confessedly the best extant.
Dr. Pabisch, the chief translator and editor, is well known for his vast
erudition, and his associate, the Rev. Mr. Byrne, has paid careful
attention to the style of rendering the German into English. The
publishers have made the exterior of the work worthy of its contents. We
need not say any more to recommend a work which speaks for itself and has
received the sanction of names the highest in ecclesiastical rank and
theological repute in this country.
HISTORY OF THE CATHOLIC CHURCH IN SCOTLAND. By James Walsh.
Glasgow: Hugh Margey. 1874. (New York: Sold by The Catholic
Publication Society.)
This is a valuable work, because it is the only one of its kind, and, even
were there others, it would stand on its own merits and still be valuable.
Scotland being so closely united in its history and destinies, and having
so much in common with the sister countries, the history of the Scottish
Church must necessarily have a close affinity and throw much light upon
the ecclesiastical annals of England and Ireland; so that the interest and
importance of this work is greatly heightened by the fact that it supplies
an integral part of the history of Christianity in the British Isles.
Hitherto that history was not complete. It may be said to be completed
now. If those among our separated brethren who pretend to seek so
diligently after truth in the teachings and practices of the early church
will deign to glance at these pages, they will find that Scotland too was
evangelized by the popes, and that its first Christians professed, not a
mutilated Christianity, but the whole cycle of Catholic doctrine. They
will learn, moreover, that the so‐called Reformation in Scotland was
entirely a political job, and that there, as elsewhere, the Protestantism
in which they pride themselves was tinkered up by a herd of fanatics and
foisted upon the people by a rapacious, profligate, unprincipled nobility.
Never was there a more truthful page of history written than this. The
author, though he modestly claims for himself nothing more than the title
of compiler, has many of the qualifications of an historian; his research
has been long and laborious, and he notices only the most authentic
documents and records of the past. In no instance do we discover any
attempt to color or gloss over any of his statements, and he is never
betrayed into exaggerating the virtues or concealing the faults of his
countrymen.
MANUAL OF MYTHOLOGY: GREEK AND ROMAN, NORSE AND OLD GERMAN, HINDOO
AND EGYPTIAN MYTHOLOGY. By Alexander S. Murray, Department of
Greek and Roman Antiquities, British Museum. Second Edition.
Rewritten and considerably enlarged. With forty‐five plates. New
York: Scribner, Armstrong & Co., 654 Broadway. 1874.
As a manual of mythology this seems to be as concise, complete, and
accurate as such a book can be made. As a specimen of art it is
remarkable. The author is apparently one of our modern, cultivated pagans,
very much at home among the heathen religions he describes. The very brief
exposition of his own theological opinions contained in his introduction
ignores the true and primitive religion revealed from heaven altogether,
and propounds the utterly unhistorical, pernicious, and false notion that
monotheism is a development from polytheism produced by intellectual
progress. The author does not, however, put forth anti‐Christian views in
an offensive or obtrusive manner, and indeed all he says is included in a
few sentences. We cannot, certainly, recommend the study of pagan
mythology to young pupils, or consider the present volume as suitable for
indiscriminate perusal. Those who are fit for such studies, and for whom
they are necessary or proper, will find it a very satisfactory compendium
of information and a work of truly classical taste and elegance.
CURTIUS’ HISTORY OF GREECE. Vol. V. New York: Scribner, Armstrong
& Co. 1874.
This volume completes the work of Dr. Curtius. We have already given it
the high commendation which it deserves in our notices of previous
volumes. It is one of the first‐class historical works of German
scholarship, and this is the highest praise that can be given to any work
in those departments in which German scholars excel, so far as learning
and ability are concerned.
A THEORY OF FINE ART. By Joseph Torrey, late Professor of Moral
and Intellectual Philosophy in the University of Vermont. New
York: Scribner, Armstrong & Co. 1874.
Looking through this treatise of Prof. Torrey, whose intellectual head,
stamped in gold on the cover, leads the reader to expect a thoughtful work
on the most attractive subject of æsthetics, our impression is decidedly
favorable. The University of Vermont used to be considered as quite
remarkable for an elevated, philosophical tone. Such seems to be the
character of this condensed summary of the retired professor’s lectures on
art, evidently the result of much study and observation, and given to the
reader in that pleasing style which best suits such a very pleasant branch
of knowledge.
PROTESTANT JOURNALISM. By the author of _My Clerical Friends_.
London: Burns & Oates. 1874. (New York: Sold by The Catholic
Publication Society.)
It is enough to name the author of this collection of short, lively
essays—Dr. Marshall. It is the cream of the London _Tablet’s_ articles,
during the author’s active connection with that journal, on the most
living and interesting topics of the day in regard to the warfare between
the Catholic Church and her enemies. We recommend it to universal reading
and circulation in the warmest possible manner, and with the most sincere
desire that the author may long be spared to continue his admirable and
useful career as a champion of religion and truth.
CHARTERIS; A Romance. By Mary M. Meline. Philadelphia: J. B.
Lippincott & Co. 1874.
This romance does not belie its name in its contents. Its plot and
incidents are romantic and tragic in the highest degree. Bordering, at
least, on the improbable, as they are, they are nevertheless managed with
a very considerable degree of skill and power by the author, who has
improved very much on her last story, _In Six Months_. The characters are
drawn with free and bold strokes, and have dramatic individuality. The
plot excites even a painful interest all through, and there is no mawkish
sentimentalism anywhere. Some scenes are remarkably well drawn. There are
no lectures on religion or morals, but the purity of a true Catholic
woman’s faith and morality shines through the whole story. We may
congratulate the fair author on her success.
KATHERINE EARLE. By Miss Adeline Trafton. Boston: Lee & Shepard.
1874.
An interesting story, beautifully illustrated and neatly bound.
SUMMER TALKS ABOUT LOURDES. By Cecilia Mary Caddell. London: Burns
& Oates. 1874. (New York: Sold by The Catholic Publication
Society.)
In this little book the authoress relates some of the wonderful miracles
of Lourdes. Its style is simple and chaste, and, we should say,
particularly suited for children.