CHAPTER VII.
Organic Matter as a Product of Art.

From the previous chapter we now draw the extremely important conclusion that all organic matter is a product of art, that is, a product which the forces of nature cannot produce. Spontaneously these forces only create natural products. Products of art belong to an entirely different category; they owe their existence to a foreign interference in the natural order of the world and have a cause that does not fall within the limits of a mere mechanical causality. But before we discuss this subject, let us first thoroughly understand what we mean by saying that organic matter is a product of art.

Materialists have shown that the organism closely resembles a steam engine, but they have neglected to point out that the similarity extends also to the mode in which they are produced. Everybody is probably convinced that the forces of nature have never made and never will make a steam engine. If the same might be said in regard to the machines which we call organisms, then materialism would be disproved. But why, to begin with, cannot the forces of nature build steam engines? We must be able to present the reasons for this statement.

If we first consider the building material, we find this in the factories in the form of plates, bars and ingots of iron, copper, lead, tin, etc. Where do these metals come from? Nowhere in nature is such material found.[2]

Humanity had inhabited the earth thousands of years without having an idea of the existence of such substances as iron, copper, lead, etc. The metals are chemical ingredients in our minerals and from these minerals they are extracted by complicated, artificial processes. The ore is often lifted out of the depths of the mountains; it goes through a series of treatments which the forces of nature cannot spontaneously undertake. We will here give only a moment’s attention to the process of reduction, or the separation of the metal from its natural compounds. This, as we know, is done in our blast furnaces, where the iron is reduced through the presence of coal and other suitable substances in certain proportions. If we now remember that the heat in our furnaces often reaches about 2000° Centigrade we see at once that the sun may shine on our mountains throughout eternity without ever producing the temperature necessary for the reduction.

But the engine is not yet completed. The plates must be first rolled and shaped, the ingots must be melted and cast into frames, shafts, bearings, etc.; in short, the raw material must be formed into all those numerous parts of which the machine is composed. The engine is from beginning to end a product of art.

There is especially one circumstance pertaining to all these transformations that merits a closer attention. If we remember that all the material used in a product of art is taken from nature, and besides that, all the processes in making and shaping the raw material are carried out through the employment of natural laws, we might still ask the question, why physical forces should not enter spontaneously into the necessary artificial combinations for producing this result. Until we have pointed out the quality in matter which prevents this, we have not completely demonstrated the inability of natural forces to build an engine spontaneously.

This quality has been named vis inertiae, the inertia of matter, one of the most important natural laws that exist. What does this law teach us? It says that matter cannot itself change its condition. If a body is in motion it can never come to rest unless another force at least equal to the primary opposes the motion. If it be at rest, it cannot impart motion unto itself; energy, applied from without, is necessary. Inertia keeps the earth moving around the sun; a stone thrown into the air would proceed everlastingly with its initial velocity if the attraction of the earth did not interfere.

Because of this quality, then, matter remains in its natural equilibrium. An engine would never be built because the ore would stay in the mountains and the metals forever remain in their compounds. Every product of art requires a foreign interference in the material world; matter, in consequence of its inertia, presents a determined and often very energetic resistance to such an intervention.