What We Mean by Life

a) Life as Movement — b) Life as Activity — c) Life as Actuality — d) Definition of Life

a) Life as Movement

We know what a thing is by studying its characteristics, its inevitable functions, its natural qualities. In other words we know a thing by knowing its properties or attributes. Characteristics (in quality or operation) which mark a thing as long as it remains what it is, and which change only when the thing itself has been changed into something else, are proper to the thing; they constitute its properties; they must, of necessity, be attributed to the thing, and are its attributes. Properties or attributes are the indicators of essence and nature. Essence is that whereby a thing is constituted in its inmost and most real being as such a thing; nature is that whereby an essence has such and such inevitable operations or functions: for nature is essence considered as the root of function. When we ask what a thing is, we ask what is its essence and nature.

When we ask what life is, we ask what is the essence and nature of life. And we find the answer to our query by discovering what characteristics life confers upon the things which possess it; by noticing the attributes or properties of living things.

Now, there is one characteristic universally recognized as the mark of a living thing; indeed, this characteristic is so intimately bound up with the very idea of a living thing that there is no thinking of life or living thing without it. And this characteristic is the power of self-movement. A living thing is one that can somehow move itself; not that it must be capable of skipping about from place to place, but in the sense that it is, of itself, equipped to do something by way of connatural operation or function. This power of self-movement is native to the living thing; it is innate in it; it is not merely put into it by some outside or extrinsic agency, as steam is let into the cylinders of a locomotive; it is an intrinsic force or power.

There is an ancient axiom which declares that “where you find movement, you find a mover and a thing moved; and nothing really moves itself.” This is quite true, but it does not contradict our notion of life. A living thing does not move itself into existence; it does not equip itself with its life-powers; but its powers, once bestowed, are exercised by the living thing, and in and for the living thing itself, and so are said to perfect the living thing; and for this reason life is described as the power of self-perfecting movement. In saying that life is self-movement, we do not utter an absurdity like the statement that a man can lift himself by pulling on his own boot-straps. We merely declare that a living thing is natively equipped with a power, intimately resident in itself and to be exercised through itself, whereby it does something for itself,—“moves” is the general term for the exercise of such power. A man cannot lift his weight into the air by pulling on his own boot-straps; but a man can pull on his own boot-straps, and that is an activity or movement which the man does by reason of a native or inborn power: the man does the pulling; the man has the power to pull; he exercises a movement of his own, and, in so far, it is self-movement. The force or power which the man exercises is not conducted to him from some extrinsic source; he need not be wound up like a clock, or connected with a dynamo by a cord and socket, or furnished with a steam-line, or equipped with antennae or tubes or aerials. He does the moving himself. And so it is with the man’s growing, or digesting, or hearing, or thinking. These activities are his own, exercised by means of powers with which he is natively equipped, and which function in him, and by him, and for him, and so are called, in their functioning, self-movements, and self-perfecting movements.

When a thing moves itself, we know it is alive. When a thing, natively equipped for self-movement, is no longer capable of such movement, we know that it is dead. We sometimes use the terms “alive” and “dead” in a figurative or poetical sense, as when we speak of a “live wire,” or say that our radio is “dead.” But the “live wire” is not really alive, as we well know; and we need no long period of observation to tell the difference between such a wire and a living thing,—a serpent, for instance. Nor do we conceive the physical and mechanical activity or “movement” of the radio as something proceeding from a natural and inborn principle of power. It is precisely because we recognize some sort of self-movement as characteristic of a living thing that we (who are all poets and lovers of figurative speech) are so quick to employ the analogy of life and the absence of life in daily speech. And so we speak of “a living flame,” “a dead silence,” “a style that is vibrant with life,” “a dying echo,” and so on.

Living things, therefore, are things which can, in one way or another, move themselves. And life is the power of self-movement. And, since self-movement is movement in, by, and for the mover, life is described as the power of self-perfecting movement. This description, however, is applicable only to the life of creatures, and is most clearly evidenced in the life of bodily creatures.

b) Life as Activity

Here we are to go over the ground already covered in our consideration of life as movement, but we are to employ a new term, to make a required distinction, and to learn some necessary definitions. Self-movement is, obviously, self-activity. For activity is action or the power to act; and a thing which moves itself (in the sense explained above) exercises activity; and that which has power for self-perfective movement, possesses activity.

Activity and action are distinguished as immanent and transient. Immanent activity (the term is from the Latin in “in,” and manere “to remain”) remains in the being which acts (called “the agent” from the Latin participial noun agens “the doer; the performer”). Immanent action or activity is said to “remain in” the agent, because it originates in the agent, and is finished in the agent, and produces its main effect in the agent. A plant grows; and the activity of growth is immanent in the plant. There are “outside” effects, of course; the growing plant stands in a different relation (as to measurement or size) to surrounding bodies as it grows larger; but the main effect is in and on the plant itself. The growth as such begins in the plant and affects the plant and, as a function, ends in the plant. It is an immanent action or activity. All life-actions (or “vital actions” as they are usually called, from the Latin vita “life,” and vitalis “having reference to life”) are immanent actions. We shall have occasion to stress this point again.

Transient activity or action takes its name from the Latin trans “over; across,” and iens “going.” A transient action “goes across” the chasm which separates the agent (or doer, or performer) from an object outside his acting-power. A transient action is not finished in, by, and for the agent, but produces its main effect upon something else. The batter hits the ball. Inasmuch as the action is the batter’s own exercise of power it is immanent; inasmuch, however, as the terminus, goal, or finished effect of the action is found in something other than the agent, the activity is rightly said to “go across” from the agent to the object affected, and the action is, in so far, transient action. The batter’s activity,—in taking his posture, grasping the bat, moving his arms, swinging the bat to meet the ball,—is, inasmuch as it is his own activity, an immanent activity. Inasmuch as his activity results in the fact that the bat is grasped, arms are moved, bat is swung, ball is struck, the activity is transient. In transient activity force or power goes out, or goes across, from the agent to an object acted upon, affected, or, in this technical sense, “perfected.”

For an action to be immanent it is required, then, that its main effect, its goal or terminus, be within the agent which originates it. For an action to be transient, it is required that its main effect or terminus be found in something other than the agent which originates it. An action is not immanent merely by reason of the fact that it goes on within the body of the agent; nor is an action wholly transient by reason of the fact that it is completed outside the originating body. The whirling and churning of food in the stomach is, in itself, transient activity: it is the activity of the stomach upon something other than itself. Yet the activity of the stomach, considered precisely as such, is unquestionably the action of a living thing, it is its own action, its own self-perfecting movement, and is, in so far, immanent. The movement of the heart, the contracting and expanding of the lungs, are,—inasmuch as they are actions of part upon other part, or of containers upon contents,—transient activities; but, inasmuch as these activities are vital, inasmuch as they are activities exercised in, by, and for the living being, they are immanent activities. Again, a man clapping his hands, or bringing an emphatic fist down upon his knee, or stroking his whiskers, is engaged in activity which, looked at simply, is transient, even though the action affects no other body than the man’s own. For activity of part upon part is transient activity. Yet inasmuch as the movement of hand or fist is the man’s own proper and self-perfecting movement (which could not be originated by a corpse or by a non-living body) and inasmuch as the action is begun and finished by exercise of a power that functions in, by, and for the man, the action is immanent. Its external or outer exercise is indubitably transient; its character as a vital manifestation marks it as unquestionably immanent. All vital activity is immanent; all immanent activity is vital: there is no immanent activity except the activity of a living being. Immanent activity is not necessarily bodily. A man’s thinking is immanent activity, so is his willing. And these activities are, as we shall see later, of a spiritual, supra-sensuous, supra-bodily character. This is a point to keep steadily in mind, and we should frequently recall it, for it might easily be forgotten or even overlooked in our studies of the manifestations of life in bodies.

Immanent activity in living bodies is regularly accompanied by transient activity, that is, by transient effects. A tree is growing outside my study window, and I find that it has now grown so large that it cuts off the view of my garden. This is a transient effect. The tree is growing by an immanent drive and force to reach and maintain its own mature state and condition; it is not growing to cut off the pleasing view from my window. The enlarging of outer bulk is transient, for it inevitably affects other things in the surrounding universe; but the enlarging in itself, as a growth and a development and a perfecting self-movement of the tree, is immanent activity. Mark Twain tells, in A Tramp Abroad, of something he noticed in the Black Forest: “A toadstool—that vegetable which springs to full growth in a single night—had torn loose and lifted a matted mass of pine needles and dirt of twice its own bulk into the air, and supported it there, like a column supporting a shed.” He adds, musingly, “Ten thousand toadstools, with the right purchase, could lift a man, I suppose. But what good would it do?” The growth of the toadstool, inasmuch as it is the exercise of a power which functions in, by, and for the toadstool, is an immanent activity. The main effect is in the toadstool itself. The fact that it lifts matted pine needles, or lifts men, is, so to speak, a side-issue, and not the main terminus and effect of its growth: it is something transient, and not immanent or indwelling within the toadstool itself as a growing thing.

All activity other than that of living things is transient activity. The rolling of a stone down a hill, the smooth movement of a well-built and well-oiled motor, the speeding automobile, the puffing locomotive, the ticking watch, the quiet sweep of the hands of an electric clock, the whizzing bullet, the upsurge of bubbles in a glass of carbonated water, the impact which sends sound waves from radio or phonograph, the flash of light from a beacon or from a distant star,—all these are examples of transient movement or activity. None of these things is the self-perfecting movement of an agent. All are instances of movement or activity contributed (transiently) by an agent to some other thing. Consider the moving locomotive. The locomotive moves because the wheels go round; the wheels move because the driving-rods force them to do so; the driving-rods are moved by the steam in the cylinders; the steam owes its power to the heat and the confined space of the boilers; the heat is due to the releasing of energy from the fuel; the fuel got its energy from chemical and substantial changes, induced, under the pressure of earth, in decaying vegetable matter; the vegetable matter got its power from its structure and its response to the action of sunlight and heat and moisture and air; and the sun and the elements got their power, ultimately, from their Maker. And their Maker is the All Living God. All movement or activity, even the most obvious and mechanical of local movements, can be traced back by an inevitable chain of strict reasoning to the First Cause. All activity, even the most purely transient activity, can be, and indeed must be, traced back to indicate an Infinite Immanence of Activity, to an existing God, the Necessary, Eternal and Non-originated First Being.

Life, then, may be described as the power for immanent activity, which is only another way of saying that life is the power of self-movement, and of self-perfecting movement. Again we notice that this is a description of life as it exists in creatures.

c) Life as Actuality

A thing which exists is said to be actual; a thing which can exist, which is possible, is said to be potential. Further, an existing thing is actually what it is; it is potentially what it may become. Ice is actually ice, but potentially it is water; it actually has existence as a solid, but potentially it has existence as a liquid. Conversely, water is actually liquid, and potentially solid (ice) and gaseous (vapor or steam). The boy is actually a boy; potentially he is a man. The sinner is actually a sinner; potentially he is a saint.

A thing has actuality inasmuch as it has a determinate being. A living thing is actually a living thing inasmuch as it has the determination, or “form,” which makes it alive. Therefore the determinate reality, the form, by which a thing is a living thing, is the basic actuality or the first or fundamental actuality about the thing as a living thing. For this reason, the determinate reality, the form, the essence, which makes a thing alive is called life in first actuality. The ancient Latin phrase is “vita in actu primo”: “life in first act” or “life in first actuality.” We shall presently find that the principle or form which makes a body a living body is the psyche or soul. The soul itself is “life in first act.” The soul is that actuality whereby, first and foremost, the bodily being which has it is alive. Hence, the soul or life-principle is “life in first act.”

The life-principle, or soul, in a living body tends naturally to exercise life-activities in and through that body. Not that the life-principle is merely enclosed in a body as a prisoner is enclosed in a cell; no, the life-principle is joined with the body in a substantial way, so that the living body is one living substance; and it is this living substance which has life-activities. Yet it is by reason of the life-principle that the living body has life-activities and tends to exercise them,—must exercise them, indeed, if it is to remain alive. And the actual exercise of life-activities constitutes “vita in actu secundo,” “life in second actuality,” or “life in second act.”

To put the matter more simply: a living body must have a life-principle or soul to make it live. This principle, therefore, is the life of the living body inasmuch as it is the first, and foremost, and basic actuality whereby the body is alive. Further, the living body, to be living at all, must necessarily exercise the activities proper to a living body. Such exercise of life-activities, therefore, is the life of the living body, not indeed basically (or in first act) but as a necessary consequence upon the fact that the body lives. Exercise of life-activities comes in the second place, once the body is alive in the first place. Hence the exercise of vital activities is life in second act.

In a word: life in first act (that is, in first actuality) is the soul or life-principle. Life in second act (that is, in second actuality) is the vital function or operation.

d) Definition of Life

We are to define the term life, and the term expresses the idea or concept (that is, the mind’s essential grasp) of the reality called life. Our definition is to be at once the explanation of a word or term, of the idea or concept which is expressed by the term, and of the reality or thing of which the mind has the idea and for which the term stands.

Life is the natural capacity of an agent for self-perfective immanent activity or movement. This is rather a definition of life in first act. We may define life in second act simply as self-movement.

Life is defined as the natural capacity of an agent for self-perfecting movement, because this capacity is common to all living things (that is, created living things); it is the source of their life-activity; and it is never found in lifeless things. The definition, therefore, is the accurate explanation of an essence, and is, in so far, a true definition. Further, life is defined as self-movement, for such movement is inevitably characteristic of every living creature (plant, animal, man, or spirit), and is never predicable of a lifeless thing. Again the definition accurately designates a certain thing, a definite essence, and is, in consequence, a true definition.

Life, as we have defined it, is the life of creatures, of limited agents. God, the all-perfect Being (as we learn from the branch of philosophy called Theodicy) is the All Living; but the divine life is not self-perfective; indeed, that which is all-perfect cannot be perfected. Further, in creatures life-activity is something distinct from the life-principle; the living thing is not the same as its vital activity, nor is the life-principle or soul the same as the operations which proceed from it. In God, the vital activity is one with the divine essence and substance. Again, in creatures life-activity is caused by the life-principle; in God nothing is caused; the divine essence is the reason for the infinite life-activity of God’s understanding and will, but does not cause this activity. Finally, in creatures self-movement inevitably involves a change in the living thing which exercises it; in God there is no change or shadow of alteration.

From the foregoing consideration we see that life, inasmuch as it is a perfection, is predicable of everything which lives, of creatures and of God, the Creator. But life, inasmuch as it is a perfecting, is predicable of creatures but not of God, who is all-perfect and therefore not perfectible. Life, therefore, is predicable of God and of creatures in a manner that is not wholly the same, nor yet wholly different. It is said to be predicable analogously (or by analogy) of God and of creatures. But life is predicable of living creatures univocally, that is, in precisely the same ner of each, though not necessarily in the same degree. Thus when we say that a plant is alive, and that an animal is alive, and that a human being is alive, and that the soul of man is alive, and that an angel is alive, we use the term “alive” in precisely the same sense, even though we do not mean that the same degree of life,—the same capacity and complexity of varied vital operation,—is present in each of the creatures mentioned.

Summary of the Article

In this Article we have learned what is meant by the attributes or properties of living things, and have found that these indicate and evidence the reality called life. We have seen that the basic property of a living thing is its capacity or power for self-movement. We have distinguished activity or movement as transient and immanent, and have learned that life-activity is always immanent activity, even though it regularly has outer effects or “side issues” which are transiently effected. We have noticed that immanent activity is synonymous with vital activity or life-activity, and that all non-vital activity is necessarily transient in character. We have noticed further that the existence of activity, immanent or transient, points inevitably back to an Infinite Immanence of Activity as its necessary First Cause. We have described life in first actuality and in second actuality.