M — Matière

When the wise are asked what the soul is, they answer that they know nothing about it. If asked what matter is, they give the same answer. Professors, it is true, and especially schoolboys, know all this perfectly; once they have repeated that matter has extension and is divisible, they think they have said everything. But when asked to say what this extended thing is, they find themselves at a loss. “It is composed of parts,” they say. And what are these parts composed of? Are the elements of these parts divisible? Then they either fall silent or speak at great length, which is equally suspicious. Is this almost unknown being called matter eternal? All antiquity believed so. Does it possess active force in itself? Several philosophers have thought so. Are those who deny it entitled to deny it? You cannot conceive of matter possessing anything in itself. But how can you be certain that it does not possess in itself the properties necessary to it? You do not know its nature, yet you deny it modes that are nevertheless in its nature. For after all, as soon as it exists, it must exist in a certain way, must have a shape; and since it necessarily has a shape, is it impossible that other modes should be attached to its configuration? Matter exists; you know it only through your sensations. Alas, what use have all the mind’s subtleties been since reasoning began? Geometry has taught us many truths, metaphysics very few. We weigh matter, measure it, decompose it; and if we want to take one step beyond these crude operations, we find impotence within us and an abyss before us.

Please forgive the whole universe for having erred in believing matter self-existent. Could it do otherwise? How can we imagine that what exists without succession has not always existed? If matter’s existence was not necessary, why does it exist? And if it had to exist, why should it not always have existed? No axiom has ever been more universally accepted than this: Nothing is made from nothing. Indeed, the contrary is incomprehensible. Among all peoples, chaos preceded the ordering of the whole world by a divine hand. The eternity of matter did not impair the worship of the divinity among any people. Religion never took fright at the acknowledgment of an eternal God as master of eternal matter. Today we are fortunate enough to know through faith that God drew matter out of nothingness; but no nation had been instructed in this dogma. Even the Jews were ignorant of it. The first verse of Genesis says that the gods Elohim, not Eloi, made heaven and earth; it does not say that heaven and earth were created from nothing.

Philo, who lived in the only period when the Jews had any learning, says in his chapter on creation: “God, being good by nature, did not envy substance, matter, which in itself had nothing good, which by nature has only inertia, confusion, disorder. He deigned to make it good instead of the bad thing it was.”

The idea of chaos disentangled by a God is found in all the ancient theogonies. Hesiod repeated Eastern thought when he said in his Theogony, “Chaos was the first thing to exist.” Ovid spoke for the whole Roman Empire when he said:

So when that one of the gods, whoever he was,Cut apart the mass he had set in order.

Matter was therefore regarded in God’s hands as clay beneath the potter’s wheel, if such feeble images may be used to express divine power.

Matter, being eternal, had to possess eternal properties, such as configuration, inertia, motion, and divisibility. But this divisibility is only a consequence of motion, for without motion nothing is divided, separated, or arranged. Motion was therefore regarded as essential to matter. Chaos had been confused motion; the ordering of the universe was regular motion imparted to all bodies by the master of the world. But how could matter possess motion in itself? As it possesses extension and impenetrability, according to all the ancients.

“But it cannot be conceived without extension, and it can be conceived without motion!” To this the answer was: “It is impossible for matter not to be permeable; now, being permeable, something must continually pass through its pores. What use are passages if nothing passes through them?”

From reply to reply there would be no end. The system of eternal matter has very great difficulties, like all systems. That of matter formed from nothing is no less incomprehensible. We must admit it without flattering ourselves that we can account for it; philosophy does not account for everything. How many incomprehensible things must be admitted even in geometry! Can we conceive of two lines that will always approach and never meet?

Geometers, it is true, will tell us: “The properties of asymptotes are demonstrated to you; you cannot help admitting them. But creation is not demonstrated: why do you admit it? What difficulty do you find in believing matter eternal, as all antiquity did?” On the other hand the theologian will press you and say, “If you believe matter eternal, then you acknowledge two principles, God and matter. You fall into the error of Zoroaster, of Mani.”

We shall answer the geometers nothing, because those people know only their lines, surfaces, and solids. But we may say to the theologian: “In what way am I a Manichaean? Here are stones an architect did not make; he has raised an immense building from them. I do not admit two architects; the rough stones obeyed power and genius.”

Fortunately, whatever system one embraces, none harms morality; for what does it matter whether matter is made or arranged? God is equally our absolute master. We must be equally virtuous upon a chaos disentangled or upon a chaos created from nothing. Almost none of these metaphysical questions influences the conduct of life. Disputes are like the idle talk people exchange at table: after dinner everyone forgets what he said and goes where interest and inclination call him.

Ask wise people what the soul is, and they’ll say they don’t know. Ask what matter is, and you’ll get the same answer. Professors—and especially students—know all about it, of course. They repeat that matter takes up space and can be divided. They think that says everything. But ask what this thing occupying space actually is, and they’re stuck. “It’s made of parts,” they say. What are those parts made of? Can the elements making up those parts be divided? Now they either say nothing or talk a lot. Both responses are equally suspicious. Is matter, this thing we hardly know, eternal? Everyone in ancient times thought so. Can it act through a force of its own? Many philosophers have thought it could. What right have others to deny that? You can’t imagine matter having anything in its own right. But how can you be sure it doesn’t have its necessary properties in its own right? You don’t know its nature. Yet you deny it qualities that belong to that nature. After all, if it exists, it must exist in some particular form. It must have a shape. If it must have a shape, couldn’t other qualities go with that shape? Matter exists; your senses are your only way of knowing it. Sadly, all our clever thinking since reasoning began has got us where? Geometry has taught us a great many truths. Metaphysics has taught us very few. We weigh, measure, and break down matter. Try to go one step beyond these crude procedures, and we’re helpless. An abyss opens before us.

Please forgive the whole world for wrongly believing that matter exists in its own right. How could it have thought otherwise? How could something that exists without succession not have existed always? If matter didn’t need to exist, why does it exist? If it had to exist, why wouldn’t it always have existed? No principle has ever won wider acceptance than Nothing comes from nothing. We really can’t understand the opposite. All peoples believed chaos came first. Then a divine hand put the whole world in order. No people’s worship of God suffered from believing matter was eternal. Religion never took fright at an eternal God ruling eternal matter. Today, fortunately, faith tells us that God made matter from nothing. But no nation had been taught that doctrine. Even the Jews didn’t know it. Genesis’s first verse says the gods, Elohim—not Eloi—made heaven and earth. It doesn’t say they created heaven and earth from nothing.

Philo lived in the only period when the Jews had any learning. In his chapter on creation, he says: “God is good by nature. He felt no jealousy toward substance, or matter. In itself, it had nothing good. Its nature held only inertia, confusion, and disorder. He graciously made it good instead of bad.”

Every ancient account of the gods’ origins includes a god putting chaos in order. Hesiod repeated Eastern beliefs when he said in his Theogony, “Chaos existed first.” Ovid expressed the whole Roman Empire’s thinking when he said:

So when a god—whichever god it was—had orderedAnd divided up the mass.

People thus saw matter in God’s hands as clay under a potter’s wheel. That’s if we may use such feeble images to describe his divine power.

Eternal matter must have had eternal properties: shape, inertia, motion, and the ability to be divided. But that last property follows from motion. Without motion, nothing divides, separates, or falls into order. People therefore thought matter couldn’t exist without motion. Chaos had been jumbled motion. To organize the universe, the world’s master gave all bodies regular motion. But how could matter move of its own accord? The same way, all ancient thinkers said, that it occupies space and keeps other bodies out of that space.

“But we can’t imagine matter without its taking up space. We can imagine it without motion!” People answered, “Matter must let things pass through it. So something must constantly pass through its pores. What’s the point of passages if nothing goes through them?”

We could go on answering each other forever. Like every theory, the theory of eternal matter has very serious difficulties. Matter made from nothing is just as impossible to understand. We must accept it without pretending we can explain it. Philosophy doesn’t explain everything. Even geometry makes us accept so many things we can’t understand! Can we grasp how two lines can keep getting closer but never meet?

Mathematicians will admittedly tell us, “You’ve been shown proofs of the properties of asymptotes. You have to accept them. But creation hasn’t been proved. Why accept that? What stops you believing matter is eternal, as everyone in ancient times did?” Meanwhile, the theologian will press you: “If you think matter is eternal, you recognize two first principles: God and matter. You’re making Zoroaster’s and Mani’s mistake.”

We won’t answer the mathematicians. Those people know only their lines, surfaces, and solids. But we can tell the theologian, “How does that make me a Manichaean? Here are stones an architect didn’t make. He’s built an enormous building with them. I’m not recognizing two architects. The rough stones obeyed his power and skill.”

Luckily, none of these theories harms morality, whichever we choose. What difference does it make whether matter was created or organized? Either way, God has absolute authority over us. We must be just as virtuous in a world made from ordered chaos as in one made from chaos created out of nothing. Almost none of these metaphysical questions affects how we live. These disputes are like idle dinner-table talk. After dinner, everyone forgets what they’ve said. They go wherever their interests and tastes lead them.