“That, therefore, alone, which is self-moved, because it is never forsaken by itself, can never cease to be moved. Besides, it is the beginning and principle of motion to everything else; but whatever is a principle has no beginning, for all things arise from that principle, and it cannot itself owe its rise to anything else; for then it would not be a principle did it proceed from anything else. But if it has no beginning, it never will have any end; for a principle which is once extinguished cannot itself be restored by anything else, nor can it produce anything else from itself; inasmuch as all things must necessarily arise from some first cause.
“And thus it comes about that the first principle of motion must arise from that thing which is itself moved by itself; and that can neither have a beginning nor an end of its existence, for otherwise the whole heaven and earth would be overset, and all nature would stand still, and not be able to acquire any force by the impulse of which it might be first set in motion.
“Seeing, then, that it is clear that whatever moves itself is eternal, can there be any doubt that the soul is so? For everything is inanimate which is moved by an external force; but everything which is animate is moved by an interior force, which also belongs to itself. For this is the peculiar nature and power of the soul; and if the soul be the only thing in the whole world which has the power of self-motion, then certainly it never had a beginning, and therefore it is eternal.”
Now, should all the lower order of philosophers (for so I think they may be called who dissent from Plato and Socrates and that school) unite their force, they never would be able to explain anything so elegantly as this, nor even to understand how ingeniously this conclusion is drawn.
The soul, then, perceives itself to have motion, and at the same time that it gets that perception, it is sensible that it derives that motion from its own power, and not from the agency of another; and it is impossible that it should ever forsake itself. And these premises compel you to allow its eternity, unless you have something to say against them.
A. I should myself be very well pleased not to have even a thought arise in my mind against them, so much am I inclined to that opinion.
When I read over this section, I find myself contrasting it to the earlier account of the soul finding its home by “rising” to the heavens. By different means, each proposes how our identity touches upon a greater and more permanent state that goes beyond the limitations of sensible matter. Whereas the previous claim was more symbolic, working from inclination and likeness, this argument proceeds from principles of motion and causality.
Those familiar with Plato will certainly recognize the reasoning, but it also finds a home in so many different philosophical traditions, and I would venture to suggest that this is because a logical grasp of cause and effect is necessary in any sound explanation. My students, for example, will see the similarities to the Five Ways of St. Thomas Aquinas.
Indeed, when I recently showed this passage to someone, she stopped for a moment to ask, “Wait, I’m confused. Is Cicero talking about the existence of God or the immortality of the soul here?”
“Yes,” I answered, as I do sometimes like to impishly play the cryptic guru, but more seriously because it can broadly apply to both, since the human mind can be seen as being in the image and likeness of the Divine Mind.
If we look at things that move, we will notice how some are simply moved by something else, while others, to different degrees, go about moving themselves. It results in realizing how the former are more dependent, relying on external forces to act, and the latter are more independent, relying on their internal powers to act.
Now whatever is less self-sufficient in its existence is also less complete in its being, and so is more subject to change and corruption, and whatever is more self-sufficient in its existence is also more complete in its being, and so is less subject to change and corruption.
Or, in simpler terms, the causes are permanent, while the effects are temporary. Though the consequences come and go, the principles standing behind them remain the same.
The Aristotelian or Thomist will express this by arguing that all potency must reduce to what is prior in act, and I find such language the most helpful for my own comprehension, but that would be a subject for another time, since I am already far too inclined to get lost in tangents.
In an absolute sense, this can be about God, for the totality of the changeable flows from the ultimate perfection of the unchangeable.
In a relative sense, this can also be about the human soul, for the mind is moved by its own judgments, not merely by the agency of things acting upon it. It rises above its conditions, so to speak, by its deliberate consciousness, and thereby stands on its own merits, regardless of what may happen to the body.
Yet while it is one thing to say that the Divine Mind is eternal, as the origin and measure of all creatures, can the same properly be said of a human mind?
Cicero’s discussion has been pushing the limits of what we might know with any certainty, though from a Stoic perspective, which stresses the unity of being, our individual awareness is but a manifestation of a Universal Awareness. Just as sparks fly out from a fire, or rays are cast off by the sun, so a human thought is a finite instance of an Infinite Presence.
If it touches the Divine through its self-sufficiency, is it now divine by participation?
I do not know precisely what will become of me, though I do know that I will not end completely, only be radically transformed. Everything springs from the source, and finally returns right back into it. Perhaps it is enough to accept this?
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