The Marks of Bodily Being | Catholic Philosophy

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Bodies are characterised by four consistent marks that distinguish them from spiritual beings. Extension: every body occupies space, having parts outside of parts — this is the fundamental mark of bodiliness. Impenetrability: no two bodies can simultaneously occupy the same place under natural conditions — each quantity excludes every other from its own place. Mobility: every body is naturally capable of change — in place (local motion), in quality (alteration), and in substance (substantial change). Divisibility: every body can in principle be physically divided into parts of the same kind. These four marks are not independent definitions but converging aspects of the one reality of bodily being. The world as a whole — the sum of all bodily things — is distinct from God and was not always: it depends for its existence on a creative act.

The term marks serves, in the present instance, to indicate those realities which are constantly manifested by the bodily world in which we find ourselves. We learn what bodies are by studying what they consistently present to our notice,—that is, their properties or consistent marks. Out of this study emerges our deeper knowledge of what bodies are in themselves.

First of all, we may take for granted (despite the mistaken theories of certain philosophers of unreality) that the world we live in is real, not imaginary or fanciful. In a word, we may, and indeed must, take the world as a collection of substances, marked indeed by a multitude of various and changing accidents. That the world is substantial is a postulate of cosmology, a truth taken as established or as selfevident. In ontology (the science of fundamental metaphysics) we make a direct study of the nature and reality of substances; in epistemology (the science of true and certain knowledge) we investigate the trustworthiness of our knowing-powers in manifesting the world about us as actual and substantial. Here in cosmology we cannot pause to repeat all related matters that belong properly to other departments of philosophy. But we may, for the sake of clarity at the outset, review some definitions which are necessary as essential equipment for the beginner in cosmology.

When we speak of the marks of bodily being, we speak of the marks or properties of bodily substance. Now, a substance is a reality that is fitted to exist itself, and not merely to be the quality or determination or modification of something else. Thus, water is a substance. It is not a thing like its own bulk, or its temperature, or its location. For it would still be water were it more or less, were it hotter or colder, were it here or in some other place. The water is a thing existible itself. The other realities we have mentioned in connection with water (bulk or amount, temperature, place) are not things which are suited to exist themselves; they are realities which mark or qualify or modify or determine a substance: and such realities are called accidentals, or, in the more ancient terminology, accidents. Now, some accidents, while not at all to be identified with the bodily substance which they mark or qualify, are so invariably present in the respective substances to which they belong, that we can but conclude that they belong there by natural necessity, and these we call proper accidents or simply properties. Properties are most valuable things for the investigator, for they are sure and unmistakable “leads” which give him reliable knowledge of the substance itself in which they appear. Indeed, our knowledge of substances always begins with a knowledge of accidents; for knowledge takes its rise with the action of the senses upon the outer world, and what the senses report is always, in itself, something accidental. Thus, we see, properly speaking, the color and the shape of an apple rather than the apple itself ; we feel the solidity or “hardness” of the apple; we taste its flavor; we smell its aroma. And, of course, color, size, hardness, flavor, aroma, are not the apple itself ; they are not the substance of the apple, not an existing actual essence which we call the apple; they are the marks or qualifications or modifications or determinants of the apple; in a word, they are the accidentals or accidents of the apple. But we have a knowing-power superior to that of the senses ; we call it the mind or the understanding’‘or the intellect. This power is not satisfied to take the findings of the senses as these are presented; it works upon them, endeavoring tirelessly to know what reality, what truth, lies behind the accidentals which the senses gather and report. And, by the natural resistless drive of the mind or intellect, we inevitably recognize the insufficiency of the accidentals; we recognize the fact that these are not things which give a full account of themselves; that they are not such realities (though realities they surely are) as are naturally suited to exist in themselves and by themselves, but that they indicate a basic or underlying actuality which they clothe, so to speak, and determine, and qualify. We understand this truth because, from earliest youth, we often experience the fact that the accidentals shift and change and vary, while the actuality which they mark and qualify remains essentially unchanged. Thus, we see that the little tree becomes a big tree without undergoing any change as a tree; we notice that the green apple becomes a rosy apple without being more or less an apple by reason of the change; we understand that the baby as it grows does not become another person, however great and marked are the changes in accidentals like size, appearance, ability to walk and speak, and so on. So the human intellect, by natural necessity, is compelled to notice a distinction in the fundamental nature of things in the world, and to classify reality as substantial and accidental. Nor can the intellect be wrong in this natural and necessary act of recognizing the state of things. That the intellect can know truth, and that in its first and inescapable recognition of reality as substantial and accidental, it does know truth, is something so self-evident that the mere effort to deny it or to doubt it ties one in a knot of contradiction. If a man were to say, “I cannot trust the intellect at all,” then he cannot trust that statement at all, or trust as reliable the meaning he wishes to attach to that statement. If a person were to say, “The intellect cannot know truth with certainty,” we must point out to this unfortunate individual that he speaks as though his intellect knew something with certainty, namely, the thing that he asserts in his statement. The capacity of the human intellect to know truth, and to think and reason upon it, and to reach true and justified conclusions, is a self-evident truth which cannot be either doubted or denied. Doubt and denial are always, in this case, self-destructive. Of course, the intellect may be misused; it may be too quick to judge on insufficient data; it may be employed in tasks beyond its power. But the point we make is not that the intellect knows all truth at all times, but that the intellect can know some truth, and that it does know, with truth and certainty, the fact of existence, and the world about, and its own fundamental reliability ; further, it infallibly knows that truths cannot be contradictory and mutually destructive, and that when a thing is truly known in its essential being, that thing cannot at the same time be something else.

We come, then, to the study of the bodily world with minds that can grasp truth. We come with minds that, from earliest use, have necessarily drawn a distinction between things substantial and things accidental in the actual world of bodies in which we exist and of which we are a part. We seek now as philosophers to take a new and more penetrating look at this world of bodies, and to notice what precise accidentals are always found associated with bodily being. Success in this effort will give us the grasp of the marks or characteristics of bodies.

Now, perhaps the very first thing to notice about any bodily substance is the fact that it is extended in space; it has quantity. This is indeed a mark, and a proper accident or property of bodily substance. So important a property, indeed, is the property of quantity that we shall assign to its discussion a special Article of the present Chapter. Postponing, then, for the moment, the study of quantity, we ask what other characteristics are found associated with all bodies. We know that all bodies are not pink, all are not alive, all are not liquids, all are not gases, all are not of a size, or alike in their finished structure as sensible objects. But a little study will show us that there are four notable points in which all bodily substances are at one: all bodies are compounded or made up of elements of one kind or another; all bodies are changeable, and indeed are undergoing continuous change; all bodies are contingent or dependent upon causes which produce them and support them in being ; all bodies are limited or contained and comprised within bounds. These four marks,—composition, changeability, contingency, limitation,—which are found in all bodily substances, call for our present study and investigation.

b) BODIES AND THEIR CHARACTERISTICS

We have already learned that, for our present study, the terms body and bodily substance mean a three-dimensional material reality existing, or at least existible, in the world around us. The terms mean a natural body. It is of the characteristics of such a body that we have now to speak.

Modern physics treats of bodily substance and bodily quantities as four-dimensional, bringing into the concept of a reality extended in space the necessary note of extension also in time. Of this we shall speak later. Here it is our business to notice the marks of bodily being as it presents itself immediately to our investigation, that is, as a substantial reality with length, width, thickness. The characteristics of such reality are in no wise changed by the inclusion of time as an element or “dimension.”

We notice four chief characteristics of the bodily world and of individual bodies in the world, viz., composition, mutability or changeability, contingency, and limitation or finiteness. We must say a special word on each of these.

I. Composition—All bodies are composed or compounded. The Latin verb componere, from which our words “compose” and “compound” derive, means literally “to put together.” This root-meaning serves us well. For, when we say that a body is composed or compounded, or that it is “‘a composition” (or “a synthesis,” if one prefers a Greek word), we truly mean that it is “put together’; that it is a conjoined or assembled reality ; that it is a thing made of elements, principles, parts, members. There are five notable types of composition.

a) In ontology (the science of fundamental metaphysics) we learn that every existing creature (and hence every existing body) is a union of essence and existence. Such a creature is constituted in its own basic reality or make-up as just such a thing, just that kind of thing (essence) ; and it is actually set out, and holds place among realities that are here (existence). Only of God, the infinite and wholly self-sufficing Actuality, can it be known with certainty that His essence and His existence are perfectly identified in His altogether simple or non-composed Being. Now, the union or composition of essence and existence in an actual creature (that is, in an exist- ing creature) is called entitative composition; that is, it is the composition by which a creature is constituted in its actuality of being. This type of composition is not of immediate concern for the student of cosmology; it is of importance for ontology. But even here it affords an instance of the truth of our assertion that all bodies are compounded or composed; for each existing body is a composite of essence and existence.

b) The second type of composition is essential composition. This is the union of principles, members, elements, or parts which come together to make up an essence. The essence of a thing is its inmost fundamental constitution ; it is what makes the thing, in its ultimate being, the kind of thing it is. The essence of a tree, for example, is not its size, nor its botanical classification, nor its location, nor its age, nor its fruitfulness. All these the tree has, but these things do not make the tree a tree. What makes the tree a tree is its essence. And this essence is itself a compounded or composed thing: it is composed of prime matter (or primary matter) and substantial form; that is, it is a material thing cast in a definite kind or mould or form which gives it actuality as such a specific bodily being. It is a union or composition of matter and form, and this is an essential composition since it constitutes an essence. Take another example: that of a human being. A man is not his age, nor his sex, nor his nationality, nor his strength, nor his culture; a man is a man because he has the essence of man, and this essence, physically considered, is a composite of body and soul.—Essential composition is often called substantial composition. The terms are not strictly synonymous, since even an accident has its essence, and a composed essence. But any discussion of essences, and notably such a discussion as we here undertake as a prelude to cosmological science, is concerned, first and foremost, with substantial essences. This fact justifies the somewhat loose use of terms which makes practical synonyms of essential composition and substantial composition.—Essential composition is of two kinds, physical and metaphysical. The physical composition of an essence is the sum or union of those physical parts or elements which come together to constitute the essence as a pirysis, that is, a being in nature, a thing among things. The metaphysical composition of an essence is the sum or union of those realities in it which explain it to the understanding mind, even though these realities be not distinct things in the order of nature outside the mind. Thus, the essence man (that is, human being) is physically composed of body and soul; these are elements which come together to constitute or compose man, as a thing in nature, independently of the understanding (creatural) mind. So we say that, physically considered, “man is a creature composed of body and soul”; we say that body and soul make man’s physical essence.

The essence of man is metaphysically composed of animality and rationality; these are realities which the mind lays hold of in knowing what man means; for the mind knows man as an animal with understanding and free-will. Animality and rationality are not parts of man in the physical sense (as body and soul are), but they are realities which the mind discerns in man, and they are said to be metaphysical elements or “parts.” So we say that, metaphysically considered, “‘man is a rational animal”; we say that animality and rationality make man’s metaphysical essence.—lIt is manifest that natural bodies are metaphysically compounded or composed, for each of them is a thing of a certain essential kind, and the mind, in knowing such a reality naturally compounds the ideas or notes of “thing” and “of this kind.” But it is no less apparent that natural bodies are physically compounded. For we apprehend them as distinct realities, and (as epistemology proves for us) our knowledge is trans-subjective or in accordance with fact ; there are distinct, and essentially distinct, realities in the world of bodies around us. But all bodies are at one in the point of being bodily; they are all material; in this they are not distinguished either in themselves or in the view of the investigating mind. Therefore, a natural body must be a composite of that which it has in common with other bodies, and that which it has in special to make it the actual and precise kind of body that it is. Consider the funda- mental, the essential difference between a lifeless body and a living body. As bodies, that is, as material things, these do not differ; but they emphatically do differ in the essential kind of body that each is. We see at once that a natural body is compounded; it is compounded of a fundamental and common material or materiality and that which gives to this materiality an actual existence in a determinate specific kind. In other words, we see that a natural body is essentially (and physically) compounded of prime matter and substantial form.

c) Contrasted with essential composition is accidental composition. This is the union of accidents among themselves (as of whiteness and sweetness in sugar) or the union of accidents with their substance (as of whiteness and sweetness with the substance called sugar). It is the function of ontology to prove that there are in the world physical accidents which are really distinct from the substances which they mark or qualify. But there is no need here to formulate an elaborately scientific proof of the fact. It is the common experience of all that what we know as substances are not their accidents. Substances have accidents, but they are not constituted by their accidents, and hence their accidents are not to be identified with them. Water, for instance is not to be identified with its temperature; it has, at any given moment, a certain temperature; but it does not change in its essence or substance when the tempera- ture is changed ; it does not cease to be water when it loses coldness and acquires heat. Now, this nonessential, non-substantial, union or composition which conjoins a substance with its accidents is accidental composition. So is the collection of accidents which converge in any substance, considered merely as a collection, without reference to the substance which they qualify. Examples of both types of accidental composition are readily conceived: a man with his age, knowledge, degree of grace; a tree with its size, location, number of leaves; the hardness, size, flavor, temperature, of an apple. All natural bodies are composed of substance and accidents. Abstractly, it may be possible to conceive of a finite substance (that is, a creatural substance) with no accidents whatever ; but it is not possible to conceive of such a substance existing as a body in the world around us. Some accidents a natural body will certainly have, yet it is not to be identified with these. Therefore, a natural body evidences in itself an accidental composition of substance and accidents.

d) Another type of composition is that known as integral composition. The term integral is derived from the Latin integralis (a non-classical form of integer) which means “untouched; unhurt; having lost nothing ; not defective,” and hence the word connotes “rounded perfection.” The parts or elements (chiefly quantitative, and, so far as cosmology is concerned, always quantitative) which belong to the rounded completeness of a reality, but do not constitute that reality in its essence, are called integral parts, and are said to be united with the reality which they perfect or complement by integral union or integral composition. We are all aware, by common experience, of the fact that a reality may be constituted in its essence, and yet lack one or more of the non-essential perfections that normally belong to it. Thus a man may be constituted in his essence, —he may be a man, and a complete man,—and yet lack some bodily member or power that normally and naturally he should possess. For the human essence requires a certain minimum in quantity and bodily equipment, but is normally and naturally fitted with more than this minimum; and the members and powers which are thus naturally superadded to the absolute requisites for essence are things that lend perfection, completeness, beauty, grace, to the essence in its being and its operations. A man who has lost hand or foot, or whose hair has unhappily disappeared, or whose teeth are gone (‘“‘in whole or in part,” as the legal phrase has it), or who is short-sighted or hard of hearing, is still a man, still a complete human essence, despite such deprivation. He has lost certain members or powers which normally and naturally belong to his essence, and which bring to that essence a certain rounded perfection when they are joined or compounded with it. When present, such perfections are joined or compounded with the man’s essence by integral composition.—It will be noticed at once that integral composition is a variety of accidental composition. In one sense, integral composition may, at least occasionally, be called substantial composition (as, for instance, in the union of hands or feet with the undivided substance of the human body), but it is never essential composition. Here we see, for the second time, that the terms essential composition and substantial composition are not truly synonymous. Essential composition is the union of elements necessary for the constitution of an essence, whether that essence be the essence of a substance or the essence of an accident. Substantial composition, in a wide sense, is the union of elements or members that do, as a fact, enter into the unbroken structure of a substance, whether they are necessary to that substance or not. —It is manifest that natural bodies are marked by integral composition. For natural bodies are marked by quantity ; they have parts extended in space; and such parts (quantitative parts) are regularly capable of being changed or reduced without destruction of the bodily substance itself. A stone has a certain size; break off a part, and the stone is still a stone, but it is not so much as it was, nor is it held in the same unbroken bulk; and in so far it has lost something which actualized or perfected it in an accidental way. Now, what a body can lose, in quantitative parts, without loss of its essential or substantial character, is conjoined with it by integral composition. A tree has many leaves and branches ; take off some of these and the tree is the loser, but it does not cease to be a tree; it has lost a certain “perfection” which was conjoined with it by integral composition, that is, joined with it as an actual perfecting part, member, or element, but not joined with it as something essentially requisite.

e) A fifth type of composition is numerical composition. This is the union or assembling of items or elements (which, taken singly, are complete in themselves) to constitute a sum, or a totality, or a collective unity. Thus we speak of a crowd as “composed” of persons; we speak of a wall as “composed” of bricks or stones. We all know, with R.L.S., that the world is “full of a number of things”; the world is a vast collection of kinds and varieties of objects, and of individuals of each variety. Now, each individual, and indeed each part (complete as such) of each individual, can be numbered, or counted as a single item in its group; and individual groups can be numbered or counted as items or members of larger groups, and so on. The five peas in a pod can be numbered (1, 2, 3,4, 5), and they can be taken collectively as one podful, that is, they can be joined or “composed” by numerical composition to constitute a single group or collection. And the pods can be numbered as items of a totality called a peck of peas. And so on. It is manifest to the most inattentive of observers that the bodily world is characterized by numerical composi- tion.—In itself, numerical composition is a variety of accidental composition. For, although the numbered items or parts of a totality may be necessary for the constitution of an essence or of a substance, the special aspect they present as distinct items that have come together to make a total does not include anything further or other; it does not include their possible effect upon one another, such as their affinities, their substantial fusion, their integral or essential union. It includes only the association or collection of numerable items, elements, members, parts; nothing more. And such association or collection is in itself an accidental composition.

It is manifest, then, that the bodily world which is the material object of cosmology is, in every respect, a thing composed or compounded. For we have been at pains to point out the fact that any natural body (even the world of bodies taken as a collective unity or numerical composite) is compounded in essence and substance and is inevitably marked by accidental composition. It is certain, therefore, that one constant and ever-present characteristic of the bodily world is its composition or compositeness.

Mutability or Changeability—All bodies are mutable, that is to say, all natural bodies are subject to change. Now, change (or mutation) may be defined as the passing from one state or condition to another. In the technical language of philosophy, change is “the transit from potentiality to actuality.” Potentiality is the state of a reality with respect to what it may become: thus, the infant is in potentiality with respect to adulthood, and we say that the baby is potentially a grown-up. Actuality is the state of a reality taken statically as it is: thus, the infant is actually an infant, while potentially it is an adult. In other words, a reality is actually what it is; it is potentially what it may become, whether the new and unactualized state is a matter of substance or of accidents. A change, therefore, or a transit from potentiality to actuality, is the fact and process of passing from the present state (actuality) to another which is to come or to be acquired (potentiality). Thus, change is the fact and process of becoming; and things subject to becoming (as all natural bodies are) are said to be mutable or changeable, or to be marked and characterized by mutability or changeability.

There are two chief classifications of change, viz., substantial change and accidental change. Accidental change is of three notable types: quantitative change, qualitative change, and local change. Of these we must say a brief word.

a) Substantial change is the transformation of a substance (or substances) into a different substantial reality. The change of food into flesh, of a living body into a lifeless body, of hydrogen and oxygen into water, and of water into hydrogen and oxygen, are examples of substantial change. Substantial change is (in the language of philosophy, which must not be interpreted in the manner of everyday speech nor even in that of laboratory science) generation and corruption. These are but two aspects of the one substantial change. The generation of a new substance is the corruption of the old. This is expressed in a famous Latin axiom, generatio unius est corruptio alterius et vice versa, “the generation of one thing is the corruption of another, and vice versa.” When, for example, hydrogen and oxygen become water, the gases undergo corruption and the water is generated. When a man dies, the human substance is corrupted (that is, broken up, not rotted or crumbled slowly away) and the same process is the generation of the inorganic substances which compose the corpse. Generation and corruption are two aspects of one instantaneous change which removes a substantial form by supplanting it (with absolutely no timeinterval) by another substantial form or other substantial forms.—That natural bodies are all subject to substantial change is manifest to any attentive observer. For we see about us, in this world of bodies, no item or individual substance that has not been generated and that is not to be subjected to corruption. Plants, animals, and men, are brought into being, and they die; food is digested ; coal is burned up; solid rock is subjected to chemical forces which, in time, transform its substance. There is nothing in the bodily world which (after a first creation) did not come here by generation; nor is there anything here so wholly indestructible that it must keep its substantial being eternally unchanged. In a word, all natural bodies are subject to substantial change ; substantial mutability is their constant mark or characteristic.

b) Accidental change is, as the very term indicates, a change or transformation of non-substantial realities. When a quart of milk is half consumed, the remaining pint is still the substance called milk ; there has been no change of substance in the milk that remains; only not so much remains; there has been a change of amount or quantity. This is quantitative change, a type of accidental change. When a baby grows into a youth, the human substance is not changed; the baby and the youth into whom the baby grows are one and the same essence and substance ; the change that has taken place is (in point of size or bodily bulk) a quantitative change. Again, when hot water becomes cold, there is a change; a change in quality, or a qualitative change. Of course, there is quantitative change too, for some of the water (however small the amount) evaporates during the time required to effect the change in temperature; but the change in temperature, considered in itself, is a qualitative change. The baby changes in qualities as well as in quantity as it grows larger; such qualities as its appearance, complexion, agility, alertness, are changed as the baby grows up, and these changes are, considered solely in themselves, qualitative. Qualitative change is, like quantitative change, a type of accidental change. For the essence and substance of things in which qualitative or quantitative change occurs are not thereby changed: the milk is still milk, though its quantity is diminished ; the water is still water, though its temperature is altered; the baby is still the same person (human substance) though it undergoes quantitative and qualitative changes. The third type of accidental change is local change or change of place; it is perhaps the most manifest of all types of change in the world where everything is ‘‘on the move,” everything is subjected to motion. The movement of the heavenly bodies, of the earth, of leaves in a breeze, of hands swinging by one’s sides, of walking feet, of twitching eyelids, of a revolving wheel, of a growing weed, is, inasmuch as it involves a change of place or position, a local movement or local change.—It is certainly manifest that the world of bodies is subject to constant accidental change. It is a world full of movement or local change, from the coursing spheres to the whirling parts of an atom; it is a world of quantitative change, for it is everywhere marked by the phenomena of contraction and expansion, growth and diminishment; it is a world of qualitative change, for it has temperature, and lights, and shadows. We cannot doubt the truth of the statement that accidental change is a constant phenomenon in the world of natural bodies, and that, in consequence, accidental mutability is a constant mark or characteristic of such bodies.—In passing, the student will do well to notice that substantial change is never gradual or effected by successive steps; it is always instantancous. Though a lump of coal may be a long while burning up,—and it is substantially changed by burning up,— the time is not consumed by the substantial change, but by the accidental changes which prepare each grain of the coal for that final and instantaneous transformation which destroys it as coal (corrupts it) and produces or generates ashes and smoke. Accidental change is never instantaneous, but gradual or successive, even though it consume a very small period of time.

From this detailed study it is clear that the bodily world is, in every respect, a thing subject to change, a reality marked by mutability or changeability. Mutability is a constant and ever-present characteristic of natural bodies, in their substantial as well as their accidental being. Rightly are they called entia mobilia, or mobile beings.

Contingency—A contingent reality is one that has in itself no absolute necessity or requirement for existing, but is dependent upon (or contingent upon) the causes that produce and sustain it. There are only two conceivable kinds of reality from the viewpoint of necessity in existence; for a reality either has got to exist or it hasn’t. If it must exist, by its own nature and essence, it is called a necessary being; if it involves in itself no necessity for existing, it is called a contingent being. A necessary being is uncaused; it is wholly self-sufficing ; it is itself the perfect explanation and reason for its existence. Now, such a being (as the science of ontology proves in abundant detail) is infinite, non-material, eternal, noncomposed. And, since an infinite being is necessarily one, not a plurality, it is manifest that there can be only one necessary being. This Being we call God, and it is the part of theodicy (the philosophy of deity) to prove beyond question that God actually exists. Now, if God is the one and only Necessary Being, and if there are only two kinds of being (necessary, and non-necessary or contingent), it follows inevitably that all reality other than God is contingent being. We shall show presently that the bodily world cannot be identified with God. For the present, it suffices to point out that necessary being is nonmaterial and non-composed, whereas natural bodies are material and, as we have shown above, are marked by the constant and ever-present characteristic of composition—Contingent reality or being is caused reality. And the world around us is a tissue of causation. Even the mistaken persons who deny causality, are forced to admit some sort of continuous succession and contingency as the explanation or reason of the things confronting them in daily life. A foolish man may deny, in theory, that there is any such thing as cause and effect; but he does not fail to put the tea-kettle on the fire when he wants hot water ; nor does he depend upon his own philosophy of denial when some careless motorist has barged into him and done him a hurt. Normal reason recognizes causality in the world, and all science and philosophy are built upon this recognition. And contingency accompanies causality as a shadow accompanies a man walking in sunlight. For what is caused (that is, an effect) depends upon or is contingent upon its cause.—Caused being or contingent being is, as we have said, being that does not require existence, does not, by its own nature, demand existence; it is a thing that can exist, and its capacity for existing is met by the cause or causes that confer actuality upon it by bringing it into existence and holding it there. Thus contingent being is rightly called ens ab alio, that is, being or reality which depends on something other than itself. Necessary being, on the other hand, is ens a se, that is, being which exists of itself, not depending at all upon anything other than itself.— Now, in this world we find substantial change (generation and corruption) which continually brings new substances into existence and takes other sub- stances out of it. Substances have “their exits and their entrances.” In the face of this obvious fact, it would be merely silly to say or to think that bodily substances have no dependency or contingency upon their producing and sustaining agencies. Contingency in the bodily world is inescapably obtruded upon our notice; it is a certain and a universal fact. There is not one bodily being in the world that has not come here ; there is not one such being that is unproduced ; in other words, there is not one natural body that is not contingent. Consider the point in a somewhat larger or more abstract way: there is not in the world a single natural body that can be called necessary, for what is necessary cannot be clearly conceived of, or accurately imagined, as non-existent. And we can easily conceive of any natural body as non-existent, for the complete and adequate concept of any such being does not involve the point of actual existence. What bodies we behold around us are here; but we know, and with certainty, that they might not be here. Now, any reality that might not be here is a contingent reality; that is, it is here by reason of something other than itself which has produced it, which sustains it, and which therefore accounts for its being here. Any reality that might not be here, would not be here if existence had not been bestowed upon it by something other than itself. This is saying that any such reality is contingent reality. Therefore, we are completely justified in the statement that all natural bodies, without exception, are marked and characterized by contingency.
Limitation or Finiteness—A finite reality is one that has limits or boundaries. It is a reality that can (in one way or another) be measured as to content, place, power, or activity. An infinite reality has no limits or limitations, no boundaries or borders; it is boundless in all perfection, non-material, noncomposed, necessary. There is only one infinite Being (and ontology proves to demonstration the absolute impossibility of a plurality of infinities or infinite beings) ; this Being we call God. And, since God is not identified with the world (as we shall shortly prove), it is certain that the world, and worldly bodies, are not infinite; in other words, they are finite; they are marked with the characteristic of limitation or finiteness.

Sometimes we use the word “infinite,” and the word “infinity,” in a figurative manner. When, for example, we are told that focussing our camera in a certain way will give us a field for photography “from 100 feet to infinity,” we understand that the phrase means merely “roo feet or over.”” When a mathematician speaks of infinity or even of an “infinite number,” he means a number indefinitely large. For a distance or a number, to be actually infinite, would be such that it could not, even in thought or imagination, be made larger or smaller. And there is no distance and no number that cannot be instantly imagined as cut in half, or as multiplied by two. Distance or number (or size, in general) can be called potentially infinite (or indefinite), inasmuch as there is no point at which one must stop in imagining its extent ; one can go on multiplying a number by itself without ever reaching a point where further multiplication is impossible; but, at any point in the process of multiplication, the number (whether it be abstract number, or square yards, or cubic miles) is actually finite. Hence the use of the term “infinity” in mathematics, or in the art of photography, or in the science of astronomy, is a figurative or metaphorical use; the term means “indefinitely large.”

We assert that all natural bodies are finite. Of the finiteness of the material universe itself we shall speak again in another place, but even here we may notice that since the material universe is made up of limited bodies, it is itself limited; for finite added to finite can never equal actual infinity. However, our immediate purpose here is to indicate the fact that any and all of the natural bodies observable in the world are limited or finite. It may seem unnecessary to stress so obvious a fact, yet it is important for us to pause upon the point for a moment and to conceive it with the greatest clarity.

The world is filled with many individual things, one of which is not another, and each of which is manifestly bounded and limited within the extent of its own quantity. Now, when two things are so really distinct that one is not the other in any sense, then there must be limitation on the part of at least one of the two things concerned. And, unless there be question of marking the distinction between a contingent being and the Necessary Being, there will be limitation on the part of both beings concerned. But we have already seen that natural bodies are contingent, and hence, each individual of them is distinct from every other individual, and, by that distinction, is strictly limited; all natural bodies are, therefore, finite realities. In other words, finiteness or limitation is a universal characteristic of natural bodies.

In the world of bodies, we notice more than individual differences among single bodily beings; we notice differences of kind, differences among species and genera of natural bodies. A person is not likely to confuse a lifeless clod and a living body, or a plant like a vine with an animal like a dog or cat; these are not only bodily things that differ as individuals, but they differ in essential constitution so that they are known as different kinds of bodies. These bodies are different in kind because each of the kinds (class, genus, species) is contained, so to speak, within its own definitely determined character; each is limited to its class or kind. Again, we notice limitation or finiteness as a characteristic of natural bodies.

Again, the world is, as we have seen, marked and characterized by composition. Natural bodies are made up of distinct elements, parts, members, one of which is not another. Each element or part is of a certain kind, scope, power, character; further, each element or part is one part. In other words, each element or part is a finite or limited thing, and a body made up of limited parts is itself limited. Once more we conclude inevitably that limitation or finiteness is a characteristic of the bodily world.

There have been philosophers and scientists who held that the world is not limited. Such, for instance, were Friedrich Biichner (1824-1899) and Ernest Haeckel (1834-1919), German materialists. We shall deal with the error of such teachers when we come to the consideration of the actual extent of space. Here it must suffice to repeat what we have already noticed, to wit, that a world made up of natural bodies which are limited must be itself limited.

One final proof of the limitation of natural bodies: in every contingent reality we mark a clean distinction between existence and that which has existence, that is, between the actual existence and the physical essence of the existing thing. We say that a contingent reality receives existence, and every receiver limits what it receives, just as a cup limits the liquid poured into it, or the hand encloses with limitation the object that lies within its grasp. Existence in a contingent reality is limited to this thing which ex- tsts, and this received and limited existence is what accounts for the thing being actually here. Further, that which exists, the existing essence, is (as we have seen above) a thing of definite scope, power, or kind. On the score, then, of both existence and essence, a contingent reality is a limited reality. Now, all natural bodies are contingent realities. It follows inevitably that all natural bodies are limited or finite bodies, and that finiteness or limitation is a universal characteristic of the bodily world.

To sum up: All natural bodies are composed, made up, compounded; all are subject to change or mutation; all are contingent or dependent upon causes; all are finite or limited. We have here the four outstanding and unmistakable characteristics of the world of bodies, that is, of each and every natural body. And from these characteristics of natural bodies we are able to proceed to a better understanding of what such bodies are in their inmost being, their nature and essence.

Even now, without further study, we are in position to discuss that interesting doctrine called cosmological optimism which asserts that this world is the best of all possible worlds. The philosopher Wilhelm Leibnitz (1646-1716) was one of the many who proposed such a doctrine. Now, we have seen that the world is marked by certain universally present characteristics, each one of which indicates a kind of lack, a want of self-sufficiency, an imperfection.

But the best of all possible worlds would be a perfect world. Manifestly, then, the world is not the best of all possible worlds. But we must not leave the point with such a blunt assertion. We must make a distinction in the meaning of the word perfect. When is a reality to be called perfect? It is to be called absolutely perfect (that is, unconditionally, unlimitedly perfect) when no further perfection can even be imagined as added to it; when it is eternally and wholly self-sufficing; when it is boundlessly perfect so that it involves in itself the actual fulness of being. Obviously, only the one infinite Being is absolutely perfect. But a reality may be relatively perfect, that is, perfect in relation to, or relative to, the purpose it serves or the nature it bears. Thus we say (relatively speaking) that the new coat is “‘a perfect fit,” or that a work of art is perfect, or that we are in perfect health. Similarly, we may say that this world is perfect, meaning that it is marvellously well suited for the purpose it serves; that it is wondrously beautiful in the structure of its bodies, in the harmony and balance of its parts, and so on. In this sense, it is the best world, but only in this sense. For God’s power is boundless, and is therefore not exhausted in the creating and preserving of the world as we find it; and, on the other hand, we have seen that the world is made of bodies that have manifest and characteristic imperfections. Therefore, absolutely speaking, this world is not to be called “the best” or “the best possible”; relatively speaking, it may be called so.

An objection is sometimes posed in this form: Is not God forced by His boundless goodness to give to every creature of His hands all the perfection that it could possibly have? The answer is that God is not forced at all. God (whose power and goodness are one in infinite identity with the divine essence itself) freely chooses to create, and creates most wisely, that is, creates things so that they will serve their purpose in a marvellously perfect way. Indeed, one might go to the extent of saying that God’s creatures are always such as serve their purpose in the best way possible. But this is not at all the same thing as saying that creatures, in themselves, have all perfection possible. Indeed, the imperfection of one creature may be a help to the perfection or the perfective action of others. Thus the world, which was physically hurt and rendered imperfect by the Fall (consider the points of harsh climate, unfriendly animals, noxious plants, destructive storms), serves the needs of fallen man far better than an unspoiled Eden could do. For were man (dull, and stupid, and inclined to evil, since the Fall) free of the hardships inflicted upon him by the imperfections of the bodily world, he would inevitably make his heaven upon earth and fail to work out his eternal destiny.

If we cannot accept cosmological optimism, neither can we subscribe to cosmological pessimism which asserts that the world is wholly evil, and that no per- fection whatever is to be found in it. The doctrine is absurd upon the face of it. For the imperfections of worldly or natural bodies (and we are not concerned to deny them; quite the contrary) are truly imperfections, that is, they are deficiencies in existing perfection. They are, so to speak, points where existing perfection breaks off, or breaks down, or falls short. Evil or badness is always a negative thing; it is a lack; it is an absence of reality that should be present. Now, in the face of a real world, an actual world, a world that is here, the assertion of pessimism is as silly as the denial of the existence of the world,—and indeed that is what the assertion amounts to.

c) THE WORLD NOT DIVINE

The doctrine that the world is divine,—that is, that the bodily universe is somehow identified with God, —is called pantheism, a word which derives from the Greek pan “all; everything,” and theos “God.” There are two fundamental forms of pantheism, viz., real pantheism and idealistic pantheism. Idealistic pantheism holds that the bodily world is only a skein of images or ideas in the mind of God and has no real existence of its own. Such a pantheism is latent in the teachings of Immanuel Kant (1724-1804) and was developed openly in the doctrines of Kant’s followers, Fichte (1762-1814), von Schelling (1775-1854), and Hegel (1770-1831). The error of this form of pantheism is shown in the science of criteriology (the philosophy of true and certain knowledge), and need not concern us here; cosmology necessarily accepts the bodily universe as transsubjective and real. The second form of pantheism, that is, real pantheism, is of two distinct types: the first of these asserts that the bodily world is an actual part of the substance of God, that it is an extension or an “outpouring” of God’s real being and substance ; the second type of real pantheism asserts that the world is a real manifestation (rather than a real part) of God, as, for example, a smile is a real manifestation of benignity or amusement, rather than a real part of the face on which it appears. The first type of real pantheism is called emanationism, from the Latin emanare, “to pour out”; the second type is called simply pantheism, or sometimes, phenomenalism, from the Greek phaino, “to show; to manifest.”

Emanationism and phenomenalism, inasmuch as they identify all things in God, teach that there exists one single substance, viz., the divine substance. Hence, these types of pantheism are monistic, or forms of monism, a term which derives from the Greek monos, “single; one; only.”

Emanationism cannot be true. In ontology (or fundamental metaphysics) and also in theodicy (or natural theology) we have the clear proof that God is the all-perfect, necessary, non-composed, changeless, infinite Being. But, as we have already seen, this bodily universe is indelibly and universally marked with the characteristics of imperfection, contingency, composition, mutability, finiteness. Hence, to identify God and the material world is a contradiction in thought and in terms. It is absolutely impossible for such a contradiction to have existence as an actual fact ; one might as easily conceive a thing as simultaneously existing and not existing.

The same argument avails when we come to consider phenomenalism. For the one infinite substance which the phenomenalists admit is said to manifest itself in the bodily world, to show itself in what we mistakenly call bodily being, but which is really a series of divine modes, or moments, or determinations, or aspects. But such a series is manifestly a limited thing (whereas the one substance is unlimited or infinite) ; it is changeable (whereas the one substance is necessarily immutable); it is a complexity of various things (whereas the one substance is simple or uncomposed).—Further, the pantheism of manifestation conflicts with the findings of consciousness which are the elements and basis of all knowledge. If I cannot know that I am myself, not some other person or all other persons and all other things; if I cannot know that my actions are mine,— my breathing, my eating, my walking, my thinking, my choosing,—then my knowledge is wholly untrustworthy, and I can know nothing with certainty. For there is no clearer certitude than that which makes me certain of my own individual being and function. But if I can know nothing with certainty, I can surely not know with certainty that phenomenalism is true. I can only lapse into the silence and the selfcontradiction of absolute skepticism. Reason bars the way to such an evil lapse. Phenomenalism is therefore in conflict with reason. And what is in conflict with reason must be rejected as false by all men, and first of all by the scientist and the philosopher.— Again, pantheism (emanationism or phenomenalism) would lead to impossible consequences. For if the world is God, then all activities in the world are divine; all are therefore equally good. Thus sin and virtue are made one; responsibility is wiped out; morality ceases to be; crime is an impossibility. Now, normal human reason is unprepared to accept such horrible, such blasphemous, such chaotic consequences. On the principle of causality,—which may here be expressed as “by their fruits you shall know them,”’—we must conclude that a doctrine productive of such impossible “fruits” is itself impossible. Closely approximating pantheism is the vague doctrine (or complexus of many doctrines, variously propounded) known as theosophy. Theosophy acknowledges the existence of real finite worldly realities, but makes them immanently divine; it holds that God is indwelling in every creature in such a way as to make all creatural activity the directly exercised activity of God Himself. Manifestly, this sort of doc- trine is pantheistic, if it may not be reduced to plain pantheism, and it is to be rejected for the same reasons that compel the mind to reject pantheism in its more open and defiant forms.

SUMMARY OF THE ARTICLE

In this Article we have undertaken the study of the world of natural bodies by focussing attention upon the characteristics or proper marks of such bodies. After a brief review of the truths learned in ontology about substance and accident, and after assigning for later and special consideration the question of quantity, we have discussed in detail four outstanding marks which natural bodies always and everywhere manifest, viz., composition, mutability, contingency, limitation. We have learned that natural bodies are characterized by both essential and accidental composition; that they are subject to change, both substantial and accidental; that they are essentially dependent upon causes in point of their production and maintenance ; that they are necessarily finite. We have noticed that the characteristics of bodily reality are proof positive that cosmological optimism is fallacious doctrine; and we have seen, on the other hand, the impossible character of the doctrine called cosmological pessimism. Rejecting these extremes, we have found that the world is relatively, but not absolutely, perfect or “the best.” We