Materialism does not approve itself to any sound mind. Long ago this teaching was condemned by the voice of Wisdom: “All men are vain in whom there is not the knowledge of God; who have imagined either fire or the circle of the stars or the great water or the sun and moon to be the gods that rule the world; with whose beauty being delighted they took them to be gods” (Wis. 13:1–3). It is our privilege to ask these philosophists for their proof. If they are not secure in their position, if they put forth only a baseless theory, how arrogant and reckless and audacious must they be to attack the truths that are nearest and dearest to the mind and heart of man! Triflers, they should be treated only with the silence of contempt. It is consoling to know that from the very beginning until the present time, all their so-called arguments are reducible to mere reiteration of their views. They have only changed their phraseology to suit the accidental modifications of language brought about by the advance of the positive sciences. We cannot oppose the progress of human investigation. We cannot, nor would we. We feel, however, that incredulity and impiety have impeded the advancement of genuine knowledge in the regions of, higher thought. “In the beginning,” says St. Thomas, “the ancient philosophers, looking at the universe with gross and carnal eyes, saw nothing but what fell under the senses.” It was only by slow stages that they reached any knowledge of the truth. The materialists of today have gone backward. They have returned to the infancy of thought. They teach substantially what was taught before Anaxagoras and Aristotle. They are as much in the dark concerning the origin and the essence of things as was Lucretius and his adherents. The world is as much a puzzle to them today as it was to the early thinkers who, like them, denied the existence of a living and personal Deity anterior and superior to the creation of things.
What is materialism? Doctrinally, it holds that everything that exists in the universe, from the inanimate rock to man, originated from primordial, non-intelligent, lifeless matter. They predicate of this matter that it and it alone is eternal. There is no such thing as everlasting spirit, conscience, virtue, or God. Say what they will, protest as they may, this, no matter how the colors or the shadings of their view may change, is their fundamental axiom. As mentioned, this theory is not a production of modern times. It is as old as thought. We might excuse it when the world was young. What must we say of it after the lapse of so many centuries? We are inclined to ask, “Do they really assert this rank materialism?” Here are some of their own expressions: “Matter is the sole principle of all that exists” (Buchner). “The affinity of matter is the omnipotence which creates all things” (Moleschott). “Matter is absolute. It is without end and without beginning. It is unconditioned, independent, and absolute” (Loewenthal). What are we? Creatures of matter, products of fire, earth, air, and water. What are we? Bubbles on this great ocean of matter floating in sun or shadow, disappearing in the vast bosom of that lifeless sea to make way for other air bells. Away, therefore, with all conscience, with all virtue, with all noble living! Let us dance our short bubble life in the sunshine, let us color brief existence with all the rainbow hues. Let us eat and drink and be merry, for tomorrow we die and are not known, nor know ourselves forever. Eat and drink we may, but with such a fate hanging over us, to be merry is simply to be intoxicated, is simply not to think, is simply to forget. This is all materialism holds out for us. . . .
A Centuries-Old Error
Not seldom the statement of a doctrine proves sufficient for either its victory or its overthrow. The more clearly materialism is presented, the more swiftly is it doomed to repudiation. As it stands today, it is abhorrent to every instinct and every yearning of human nature. It brings comfort to nobody. Even were it true, it would seem kindness to man to withhold it from his knowledge. It is untrue, and yet its propagation is so harmful that, wherever it is adopted, ruin of every description follows in its wake. It undermines personal integrity, loosens domesticities, and, as history attests, it threatens the downfall of authority in the state as well as rebellion, revolution, and anarchy. It is the parent of the crimes that are committed in the name of liberty, as it understands liberty, that is, in the name of unbridled license. When the system flourishes, it flourishes not because it appeals to man’s reason or to what is noble in him but because it flatters either ambition or sensuality.
Materialism, of course, by its very nature, eliminates God. Its first cry is atheistic. Its last clamor is b.asphemous. Perhaps the best way to meet the materialist is by denial. We cannot but admit that all the forms of corporeal existence spring from a material source. Nor is it necessary to deny that this is true even of living things—of the plant, of the mere animal. Thus much has generally been accepted by Catholic science just as it was positively declared by Plato and Aristotle. Here we might pause to interject the remark that Catholic doctors have not invented a logic or a metaphysics to suit the teachings of the Church. They have only applied the principles of right reasoning and abstraction, which were established by the light of pure intelligence, by the investigations of the nature and the essences of things as carried on by such minds as Aristotle and Plato. These principles were maintained three hundred years before Christ—three hundred years before the redemption of mankind was achieved, and all the dogmas involved in that redemption were uttered by lips divine for the emancipation of humanity. . . .
Materialism and Law
There is a law made manifest, in some or other way, to every individual conscience. Its legislator is God. His right to make it is deducible from his creative act. That he exercises this right follows from the perfections of his being. We call it the law of nature. Of its existence there can be no reasonable doubt. God not only knows what is intrinsically good or evil, but he must love the one and hold in hatred the other. Nay, more, he must will the one and condemn the other. As man has been created free, God cannot compel his actions, but it must be his purpose that man do good and avoid evil. This implies legislation, law. As a perfect ruler he must prohibit what is against and command what makes for order in his dominion. A law that by its very nature is so essential for man must be promulgated—that is, man must know it. That so it is, is revealed by conscience.
This law implies another existence besides that of the present. Hence we infer the survival of the soul after death. Every law must have a sanction. Every law must have attached to it a reward or a punishment. The establishing of a sanction is a function implied in legislative action. The sanction must be one that approves itself to reason as sufficient for its purpose. Suppose that God affixed no sanction to his law. In this case the inference would naturally be that God was indifferent as to whether his law was observed or not. In other words, contempt for his dictates would be of as little concern to him as observance.
What, then, becomes of the sanctity of God? How could we call him thrice holy? How could he punish infractions? What obligating force would his laws have? What a useless thing the law would be! These conclusions militate against the most elementary conception of the Deity and cannot be entertained. A sanction, therefore, must there be. Nor will any kind of a sanction be satisfactory. It must be adequate. If not adequate—if by its qualities it be insufficient to deter from wrongdoing or to incite to the fulfillment of the law—then it is nothing worth; it is not a sanction. Is the sanction as it can be enforced in this life possessed of these conditions?
We must admit that there are rewards and punishments here below. We know that virtue begets true peace and genuine joy of heart. It avails much to helpful conditions not only of mind but of body. It conciliates the majority of civilized men. It secures the esteem and affection of our fellows in many instances, and it redounds to the prosperity and general welfare of communities. We are aware that vice is attended with many evil consequences. Yet does all this constitute a competent sanction? We think not. A sanction worthy of the name should be in proportion to the degrees of virtue or of vice. It should outweigh whatever disadvantages follow from the observance of the law as well as any emolument gained by its violation. This does not appear to be the case in any sanction that can be presented in this existence as we know it. Virtue has many rewards, but it does not always compensate for the trials and the losses sustained in practicing it. Vice, too, in this world is at times attended by many and great evils. But how often are these evils nullified by success and prosperity and enjoyment? Take the case of a man to whom is presented this alternative: “Do wrong or die.” If he breaks the law, he may be tortured by remorse, it is true, but he retains his life, a blessing that all men prefer to any of the goods of earth. If he keeps the law, what reward does he receive here for his heroism? It would seem, then, that the sanction furnished here is incomplete. Therefore, there must be a somewhere else in which, when the body dies, the soul lives. This conclusion is demanded we think by God’s sanctity and justice.