Cursus Philosophicus Thomisticus, Prima Pars Artis Logicae
John of St. Thomas (1589–1644)
First published 1930
Prima pars artis Logicae (formal logic) of the Cursus Philosophicus Thomisticus of John of St. Thomas (Joannes a Sancto Thoma), from the Reiser edition (Marietti, Turin, 1930), Reiser tomus I, pars prima.
Praefatio I: Preface
To the Reader.1
Since we seek brevity, it might seem idle to spread out into a tedious preface, especially when the very sentence of the Holy Spirit condemns such a thing in advance: “It is foolish to be diffuse before the history, yet concise in the history itself.”2 So that we do not impose weariness and a burden on the reader at the very threshold, I would only point out that the aim of our study has been directed toward reducing the discipline of Logic and Philosophy, so far as we can, to a brief and concise method in keeping with the thought of St. Thomas. For this reason, we resolved not only to follow and imitate his solid teaching, but also to emulate his order, brevity, and modesty.
To follow his method and order, at the beginning of the work we divide Logic into two parts. The first comprises the dialectical disputations called the Summulae and concerns logical form. The second, treating predicables, predicaments, and the books of the Posterior Analytics, discusses logical instruments from the side of matter and posterioristic resolution, as we explain more fully at the beginning of this book.
To imitate his brevity, we have taken pains to clear away the vast forest of inextricable questions and the thorny thickets of sophisms, which burdened and stung the minds of students, brought no benefit, and caused considerable loss. We have also sent metaphysical difficulties, and many others from the books On the Soul that had burst into the very cradle of the Summulae in the heat of disputation, to their proper place; and we have treated the discussion of signs and cognitions in Logic on the book On Interpretation. Whenever, in the treatise on the term or elsewhere, we refer readers to Logic, we also indicate the relevant places there. Nevertheless, we could not entirely avoid touching upon some of the most important and necessary difficulties that helped teachers and students explain logical questions. When the reader has seen a chapter of the text, let him seek out the corresponding difficulties in the questions; in this way he will more easily grasp and overcome all the difficulties that arise.
Finally, to engrave modesty—the most pleasing jewel among the angelic virtues of the Holy Doctor—on this little ring, we chose to report, oppose, or follow the opinions of different authors in such a way that we generally abstained from lengthy citations and from naming names. For we publish this work neither to serve controversy nor to indulge a zeal for rivalry, but to serve the search for truth, which attends to doctrines, not persons. We also wished to serve the convenience of our students, for doctrine is more easily instilled when one studies the struggle for truth alone, rather than the contest among authors and authorities. Most kindly reader, we most ardently wish that through this slight but affectionate pen you may attain the truth with interest multiplied many times over. Farewell.
Praeludium I: IN WHICH THE EXERCISE AND PRACTICE OF DIALECTICAL DISPUTATION ARE PROPOSED
At the very threshold of the art of Dialectic, which we undertake to explain according to our limited ability, it has seemed good to set before beginners, in the very exercise and practice, the form and manner of disputation, which can be explained briefly as follows.
Therefore, in any disputation, let the one who argues take care first to propose the argument, reduced entirely to form, with everything else cut away, whether verbal circumlocutions or lengthy explanations; and let him set forth the syllogism or enthymeme succinctly and distinctly. A syllogism contains three propositions, called the major, the minor, and the conclusion or consequent, connected by the sign of inference, namely the particle “therefore”; the connection itself is called inference or consequence. An enthymeme, however, contains two propositions, the first of which is called the antecedent and the second the consequent, connected in the same way. For example, if I intend to prove that a life of pleasure is not to be embraced, I form a syllogism thus: “Whatever is opposed to the moral integrity of virtue is not to be embraced; a life of pleasure is opposed to the moral integrity of virtue; therefore it is not to be embraced.” Or, if I wish to form an enthymeme from an antecedent and consequent, I form it thus: “A life of pleasure is opposed to the arduousness of virtue; therefore it is not to be embraced.”
After hearing the proposition of the argument, let the respondent attend to nothing other than repeating the proposed argument completely and faithfully; meanwhile, as he takes up the argument again, let him consider whether any premise is true, so that it may be granted, or false, so that it may be denied, or doubtful or equivocal, so that it may be distinguished; and likewise whether the consequence or inference is good or bad. Having once taken up the argument again without responding to it, let him repeat it a second time and answer each proposition in this order. If there are three propositions and he sees that the first is true, let him say: “I grant the major.” If he sees that it is false, let him say: “I deny the major.” If he sees that it does not pertain to the conclusion to be inferred, let him say: “Let the major pass”—though this expression should be used modestly and sparingly, and only when it is clear that the proposition is irrelevant. If he sees that the major is doubtful or equivocal, let him say: “I distinguish the major,” and make the distinction briefly and clearly concerning the term in which the equivocation lies. Once the distinction has been given, let him not explain it at once unless the opponent asks him to, or unless it was not stated clearly enough; in that case let him explain it very briefly. Especially at the beginning of a disputation, let him not spend time explaining distinctions, but never depart from the form itself. Once the major has been granted or explained under a distinction, let him proceed to the minor and observe the same procedure in denying, granting, or distinguishing, as we said concerning the major. Then, coming to the conclusion, if it is to be granted, let him say: “I grant the consequence”; if it is to be denied, “I deny the consequence.” But if it is to be distinguished, let him not say “I distinguish the consequence,” but “I distinguish the consequent.” For the consequence, since it consists in the inference itself and not in an assertion of truth, can be a good or bad inference, and thus be granted or denied as good or bad, but it cannot be distinguished; for a distinction applies to the equivocation or ambiguity of a proposition, insofar as it has different senses in signifying truth, not to the validity of the inference itself. The consequent, however, is the proposition inferred, which may be certain, equivocal, or ambiguous; hence, when it is equivocal, it is distinguished, and so one does not say “I distinguish the consequence,” but “I distinguish the consequent.” If, however, the consequent is to be granted or denied—for this can be done only by granting or denying the consequence itself—it is enough to say “I deny the consequence” or “I grant the consequence,” not the consequent.
Once a distinction has been made concerning a proposition, whenever the same equivocation occurs, let him apply the same distinction. Let him not subdivide a sense of a distinction once granted, unless another equivocation clearly appears that could not be removed by the prior distinction. Whatever is false, it is safer to deny, and not to let pass, unless the invalidity of the consequence is certain. If he does not grasp the sense of a proposition well enough to discern its truth, falsity, or equivocation, let him ask the one arguing to explain its sense, and then take it up again.
Finally, let him take care to answer briefly and to bind himself only to the form of the argument; let him not undertake to give an account of everything he says unless asked, but leave the entire burden of proving the argument to the other. For in this way the formal force of the argument becomes clear and it is dispatched more quickly.
It belongs to the role of the one who argues: first, not to put forward many presuppositions, insist on many middle terms, or propose propositions that are too long or involved, but to keep succinctly to the form; not to use many questions, but rather to press the proofs—except when the force of the argument turns on asking for the reason for what has been said, or when the state of the disputation and the point of difficulty have not yet been sufficiently clarified. Second, let him always pursue the same middle term through its causes and principles, or by deriving an absurd consequence; let him not turn aside to another middle term, nor repeat a proof once proposed, either in the same words or in others, since both are very prolix and tedious. Finally, let him not always use a syllogism, but sometimes an enthymeme, which proceeds more briefly and concisely and reveals less of the force of the latent inference, and therefore makes the task more difficult for the respondent.
Finally, it belongs to the role of the moderator or presiding officer: first, to grasp attentively the entire progress of the argument and disputation; second, to ensure that the form of arguing and responding is observed completely; third, not to assume or anticipate the respondent’s role, much less the opponent’s, but prudently, as he sees the respondent needs, to suggest denial, concession, or distinction of the proposition. Finally, at the end, he should give a brief judgment on the disputation and clarify what is obscure.
Praeludium II: DIVISION, ORDER, AND NECESSITY OF THE ART OF LOGIC
In every art, two things are chiefly to be considered: namely, the matter in which the art operates, and the form that is introduced into such matter. Thus, in building a house, the matter consists of stones and timber, while the form is their composition, because these are coordinated with one another in one figure and structure of a house. The craftsman does not make the matter, but presupposes it; he does, however, introduce the form. Since this is properly brought forth by the art, it is also principally intended by it, as its product. Logic is “a certain art whose office is to direct reason, lest it err in its manner of reasoning and knowing,” just as the building art directs the builder lest he err in building a house. Therefore Logic is called a rational art, not only because it is in reason as in a subject, like the other arts, but because the matter it directs consists of the very works of reason.
And since reason, in reasoning and passing judgment, proceeds by way of resolution—that is, by reducing things to their principles and discerning the proofs by which they are made manifest—it is the same thing for Logic to direct reason lest it err as to direct it to resolve rightly and duly. Hence Aristotle called the parts of Logic that teach one to render a certain judgment “analytic,” that is, resolutory, because they teach one to resolve rightly and without error. A right resolution arises both from due form and from the certainty of the matter. The matter consists of the things or objects that we wish to know rightly. The form, however, is the very manner or arrangement by which the objects known are connected, so that one may reason and know duly; for without connection no truth is conceived, nor does reasoning and inference proceed from one truth to another. Resolution on the side of form is said to pertain to prior resolution, whereas on the side of matter, according to due certainty and conditions, it pertains to posterior resolution, since in an art the consideration of an artificial form is prior to the consideration of matter.
From this, then, we take the division of the art of Logic and make two parts. In the first we shall treat all that pertains to the form of the art of Logic and to prior resolution, which the Philosopher treated in the books of Perihermenias and in the books of the Prior Analytics, and which is customarily taught to beginners in the Summulae. In the second part, however, we shall treat what pertains to logical matter, or to posterior resolution, especially in demonstration, to which Logic is principally ordered.
In this first part we compose a brief text for pupils to be instructed first, and then for those more advanced we dispute more difficult questions. In the second part, following the text of Porphyry and Aristotle set out in summary, we append more useful and weighty disputations.
Order of treatment. — Since Logic directs the manner of reasoning rightly, and there are three acts of reason by which one proceeds from one thing to another, as St. Thomas teaches, 1 Posterior Analytics, lecture 1.1, no better order can be observed than to distribute the treatise on Logic according to these three operations. The first operation of our intellect is called simple apprehension, as when I understand a human being without affirming or denying anything of him. The second is composition or division, namely, when I know a thing in such a way that I attribute or deny something of it, as when I say that a human being is white, or deny that a human being is a stone. The third operation is reasoning, as when from some known truth I infer and gather another that is not so well known, as when from this truth, “a human being is rational,” I infer, “therefore he is teachable.” First, then, I apprehend the terms; next, I compose a proposition from them; finally, I form a reasoning from propositions.
Thus, in this first part we shall distribute the material into three books. The first concerns what pertains to the first operation, where we shall treat simple terms. The second concerns the second operation, where we shall treat discourse and proposition, and their properties. The third concerns the third, where we shall treat the manner of reasoning and of forming syllogisms and induction, and the other things that pertain to reasoning.
In the second part of Logic, however, we shall treat what pertains to the matter of such operations, chiefly insofar as it is ordered to forming a certain judgment from necessary truths, which is done through demonstration. Necessary truths, in turn, depend upon essential predicates, which are coordinated in the categories, and these upon the predicables, which express modes of predication, as will be explained more fully at the beginning of the second part of Logic. Nor is it unsuitable that simple terms and what pertains to the first operation be treated twice in Logic, because, as St. Thomas notes, 1 Perihermenias, lecture 1.2, simple expressions are treated under one consideration in the Categories, namely, as signifying simple essences; under another in the book Perihermenias, namely, as parts of an enunciation; and under another in the books of the Prior Analytics, namely, as constituting the syllogistic order.
Finally, since one may proceed in reasoning in three ways to form a judgment—certainly, through demonstration; topically, through opinion; and erroneously, through sophisms—Aristotle, after treating demonstration and science in the books of the Posterior Analytics, treats what is opinion-based in the Topics and the sophistical syllogism in the Sophistical Refutations.
The necessity of this art is very great, both for the general reason that all arts are necessary so that a human being may be directed rightly and without error in his works, and especially because Logic directs the works of reason, on which all reasoning and inference depend, so that they may be right, free from error, and proceed in an orderly way. This is indeed very necessary for a human being who uses reason. But more on this in q. 1, proemium of the second part of Logic.
Liber I: ON THE MATTERS PERTAINING TO THE FIRST OPERATION OF THE INTELLECT
Caput I: DEFINITION OF THE TERM
Authors hold various opinions about the definition of the term1, according as they consider in it different relations or functions: whether as a part that in some way composes an expression, or as a principal part and only in the manner of an extreme, or as that which terminates the resolution of a proposition and syllogism, or in the manner of predicate and subject.
These considerations are indeed true, and all have a place in the term; but we must see which one explains the nature of the term more fittingly, as it concerns our present purpose. For since our mind proceeds by resolution in the sciences, and especially in Logic—which Aristotle2 calls Analytics because it is resolutive—it must be possible to identify the ultimate element or term of this resolution, beyond which no resolution is carried out by the art, just as in natural generation prime matter is the ultimate principle of resolution. Otherwise, either one would proceed to infinity or there would be no perfect resolution. And because the terminus of resolution and the principle of composition are one and the same, that which is the ultimate element into which logical composites are resolved is also called the first element from which the others are composed.
With this in view, we say that here we treat the term under the notion of the ultimate element at which every resolution of logical composition terminates, including that of the proposition and expression itself, since it is fitting to begin from this as from what is first and simplest. Although Aristotle in the Prior Analytics I3 defined a term as that “into which a proposition is resolved, as into predicate and subject,” nevertheless there he did not define the term in its full breadth, but in a restricted sense, insofar as it serves the construction and composition of a syllogism. In that composition, a syllogism consists of three terms insofar as they are extremes in propositions and take on the role of a syllogistic part, that is, an inferential one. Elsewhere, Aristotle considered the term under a more universal notion, as common also to noun and verb—not under the word “term,” but under the word “expression”—insofar as it has the order of that which composes an enunciation, not the role of that which infers in a syllogism. Hence St. Thomas, in his commentary on On Interpretation I, lecture 8, § Excludes4, explaining Aristotle’s statement, “Let the noun and verb, then, be an expression alone”5, says: “And it seems from his manner of speaking that he himself imposed this name to signify the parts of an enunciation.” Therefore, according to Aristotle and St. Thomas, there is some common notion belonging to the parts of an enunciation, which the Philosopher calls an expression and we call a term, because every resolution terminates in it—not only that of the syllogism, but also that of the enunciation, which is composed of simple elements and consequently resolved into them. In the same place, lecture 5, § Shows6, St. Thomas says that sometimes “noun” is taken insofar as it commonly signifies any expression, including the verb itself. And at the beginning of Opusculum 487, he calls terms “parts of an enunciation.” It is from this most common sense of “term,” then, as the ultimate element of all logical resolution, that we say one must begin and give its definition.
Thus the term, or expression, is defined not merely as an extreme of a proposition, or as predicate and subject, but by something more common, namely, “that from which a simple proposition is made”; or rather, imitating Aristotle, who defines noun, verb, and expression by means of utterances because these are signs better known to us, it is defined as “a vocal sound significant by convention, from which a simple proposition or expression is made”8. But insofar as it includes the mental and written term, it will be defined as “a sign from which a simple proposition is made.”
Sign or significant vocal sound is said to exclude non-significant vocal sounds, such as blitiri, just as Aristotle excluded them from noun and verb. And since every term is a noun, verb, or adverb, if none of these is a non-signifying vocal sound, it is not a term9, as I shall show more fully in the question on this matter. By convention is said to exclude vocal sounds that signify naturally, such as a groan. From which a simple proposition is made is said to exclude the proposition or expression itself, which is not the first composing element but something composite as a whole; and if it ever composes something, it composes not a simple proposition but a hypothetical one.
Whether, however, the term outside a proposition is actually a part with respect to the essence and role of a part, although not with respect to the exercise of composing, we shall say below, question 1, On the Term, article 3.
Caput II: DEFINITION AND DIVISION OF THE SIGN
Since both the term and discourse and proposition and the other logical instruments are defined through signification, because the intellect knows by means of significant concepts and speaks by means of significant words, and, universally, all the instruments we use for knowing and speaking are signs, therefore, in order that the logician know his instruments exactly—that is, terms and discourses—he must also know what a sign is. A sign, then, is defined in general as “that which represents something other than itself to a cognitive power.”1
For this definition to become clearer, one must consider that there are four causes of cognition: efficient, objective, formal, and instrumental. The efficient cause is the power itself that elicits cognition, such as the eye, hearing, or the intellect. The object is the thing that moves cognition or toward which cognition tends, as when I see a stone or a human being. The formal cause is the very cognition by which the power is made cognitive, such as the very vision of a stone or a human being. The instrumental cause is the means by which an object is represented to a power, as an external image of Caesar represents Caesar. An object is of three kinds: merely moving, merely terminating, or both moving and terminating. That which merely moves is what moves a power to form a cognition not of itself but of another, as an image of the emperor moves one to know the emperor. That which merely terminates is the thing known through a cognition produced by another object, as the emperor known through the image. That which both terminates and moves is what moves a power to form a cognition of itself, as when a wall is seen in itself.
Therefore, “to make known” has a wider scope than “to represent,” and “to represent” a wider scope than “to signify.” For to make known is said of everything that contributes to cognition, and is thus said in four ways: efficiently, objectively, formally, and instrumentally. Efficiently, it is said of the power itself that efficiently causes cognition and of the causes that contribute to it, such as God moving, the agent intellect generating species, an assisting habit, and so forth. Objectively, it is said of the thing itself that is known. For example, if I know a human being, the human being, as object, makes himself known by presenting himself to the power. Formally, it is said of the cognition itself, which makes the knower cognitive as a form. Instrumentally, it is said of the very means that conveys the object to the power, as an image of the emperor conveys the emperor to the intellect as a kind of means; this means we call an instrument. To represent is said of everything by which something is made present to a power, and is thus said in three ways: objectively, formally, and instrumentally. For an object represents itself objectively, as a wall does; cognition represents formally; a trace2 represents instrumentally. To signify is said of that by which something distinct from itself is made present, and is thus said in only two ways: formally and instrumentally.
Hence arises a twofold division of sign. Insofar as a sign is ordered to a power, it is divided into formal and instrumental sign; insofar as it is ordered to what is signified, it is divided according to the cause that orders it into natural, conventional, and customary sign. A formal sign is a formal cognition that represents by itself, without the mediation of another. An instrumental sign is that which, from a pre-existing cognition of itself, represents something other than itself, as the trace of an ox represents an ox. This definition is commonly given for sign3. A natural sign is that which represents by the nature of the thing, with every imposition and custom set aside; and thus it represents the same thing to everyone, as smoke does fire. A conventional sign is that which represents something by an imposition of the will through public authority, as the word “human being.” A customary sign is that which represents by use alone, without public imposition, as tablecloths on a table signify a meal. We treat all these matters concerning the nature and division of signs at length in Logic, questions 21 and 22.
Caput III: ON CERTAIN DIVISIONS OF TERMS
The first division of the term is into mental, vocal, and written. The mental term is a cognition or concept from which a simple proposition is made1. The vocal term was defined above, chapter 1. The written term is writing that signifies by convention, from which a simple proposition is made.
The mental term, if we attend to its various essential species, is divided according to the objects from which the species of cognitions are taken. Thus we do not treat here the division of those objects, but treat only certain general conditions of cognitions or concepts, by which various modes of knowing are distinguished. Note that the simple cognition is divided here, that is, cognition belonging only to the first operation; for we are treating the division of the mental term, and the term pertains to the first operation. Hence no cognition pertaining to reasoning or composition is included in this division of cognitions, for none of these is a term or simple apprehension. Likewise, all practical cognition and cognition that expresses an ordering to the will are excluded, because the will is not moved by the simple apprehension of a term, but by composition, or judgment concerning the suitability of a thing, as we shall say in the book On the Soul2.
Therefore, cognition, which is simple apprehension, or the mental term, is divided FIRST into intuitive and abstractive cognition. This division embraces not only intellectual cognition, but also that of the external senses, which are always intuitive cognitions, and that of the internal senses, which are sometimes intuitive and sometimes abstractive. Intuitive cognition is cognition of a present thing. I say “of a present thing,” not of a thing presented to the very power: for being present pertains to the thing in itself, as it is outside the power; being presented pertains to the thing as objected to that power, which is common to every cognition. Abstractive cognition is cognition of an absent thing, understood in the opposite way to intuitive cognition.
SECOND, cognition is divided on the part of the concept into ultimate and non-ultimate concept. The ultimate concept is the concept of the thing signified by the term, as the thing that is a man is signified by the vocal sound “man.”
THIRD, the concept is divided into direct and reflexive. A reflexive concept is that by which we know that we know, and thus has as its object some act, concept, or power within us. A direct concept is that by which we know some object outside our concept, and do not reflect upon our cognition, as when a stone or a man is known.
The second division of the term belongs more properly and principally to the vocal term, and thus the term is divided into univocal and equivocal. A univocal term is one that signifies its significates by the same concept, as the word “man” signifies all men insofar as they agree in the same concept of human nature. This is understood as the same concept simply, not merely one proportionally, as with analogues, which are called one at least by proportion, as we shall say in Logic, question 13. An equivocal term is one that signifies its significates not by the same concept but by several, that is, not insofar as they agree in some way, even proportionally, but insofar as they differ, as canis signifies an animal and a constellation3. And therefore there is no equivocation in the ultimate concept of the mind, as we shall say in the cited place of Logic, article 2, because a concept is a natural likeness, and if it is one, what it represents is one; but if it reaches several things, it does so insofar as they agree in some one aspect, which is proper to univocals. Therefore this division properly concerns the vocal term, in which equivocation is found, that is, unity of sound with a plurality of significations, because signification is by convention, not natural. See also what is said in Logic, question 23, article 4, concerning the second argument.
And note that Aristotle defines equivocals in the Antepredicaments as “those whose name is common, while the account signified is diverse”4, because that definition was given of the things signified by an equivocal or univocal name, which are called equivocated equivocal things, that is, things signified equivocally. But here we have defined terms that signify equivocally or univocally; these are called equivocal signifiers, that is, terms signifying equivocally or univocally.
The equivocal is divided into equivocal by chance and equivocal by intention. The first is equivocal simply, and the definition given applies to it. The second is an analogue, and is that which signifies its significates as one according to a certain proportion, and not simply, as “healthy” said of an animal and of an herb. We treat these in Logic, questions 13 and 14.
Here note two rules for analogues. First: An analogue taken in itself stands for its more familiar signification; thus, when one says “man” and adds nothing that restricts or determines it, it stands for a living man, not a painted one. Second: In analogues or equivocal terms, subjects are such as their predicates or restrictions allow; that is, when a name signifies several things, it is determined to stand for one of them according to the requirement of the predicate or restriction. Thus, if you say, “A dog barks,” it stands for a dog that is an animal. We explain these rules in Logic, question 13, article 2.
The third division of the term is into categorematic and syncategorematic, as if one were to say in Latin, signifying or predicative, and consignifying. A categorematic term is one that signifies something in itself. Here “in itself” must be joined with “something”: that is, it signifies something represented as something in itself, not as an adverb or modification, but as a certain thing, as when I say “man.” A syncategorematic term is one that signifies in some manner, such as the adverb quickly or easily, or the sign “every” or “some,” and so on. It is said to signify in some manner, not because it does not truly and properly signify, but because its signified content is not represented as a thing in itself, but as a mode of a thing, that is, by exercising a modification of another thing.
Caput IV: ON OTHER DIVISIONS OF TERMS
The fourth division is that of the categorematic term into various subdivisions, none of which is subordinated to another; rather, they belong to the term on an equal footing. These subdivisions can be reduced to five principal ones.
FIRST: A categorematic term is either common or singular. A common term is one that signifies several distributively, as “man.” By “several distributively” we mean communicable to several: for it signifies something that, either on the part of the thing signified or at least in its mode of conception, is not incompatible with being understood as communicated to several. For this reason, the name “God” too is a common term, because of the mode of signifying him on the part of our concept, as we explain in Logic, question 5, article 3. A singular term is one that signifies only one, as “Peter” or “this man”; that is, one whose signified content is not communicable to several, not even by its mode of signifying. — Here the division of the term into collective and distributive is also added. A collective term signifies several together in the singular, as “people,” “Salamanca,” and so on, because they are aggregates of several. A distributive term signifies one in the singular or several distributively, as “Peter” and “man.”
SECOND SUBDIVISION: A categorematic term is either absolute or connotative. An absolute term signifies something in the manner of what subsists in itself, that is, in the manner of a substance, whether it is a substance in itself, as “man,” or is conceived in the manner of a substance, as when an accident is conceived without a subject, as whiteness. A connotative term signifies something in the manner of what inheres in another, as “white” or “blind.” Hence a connotative term must have one principal signification in the direct case, which is the same as that of its absolute counterpart, as “white” and “whiteness,” and another in the oblique case, namely that in which it inheres and to which it belongs. A connotative term signifies in the oblique case, and of what is connoted, only that to which it truly belongs, not something imaginary and false. Nor is it enough for it to connote an object, as “knowledge” and “wisdom” do: these are absolute terms and yet regard and connote their objects. Rather, it must connote the subject in which it is found. Take care not to confuse the connotative, the concrete, and the adjective. For concrete is opposed only to abstract, and can be found in an absolute term: “man,” for example, is concrete and absolute. That is called concrete which signifies something as constituted as that which it is, as “man”; abstract, by contrast, signifies something as that by which it is constituted, as “humanity.” Adjective is opposed to substantive, not to connotative. Hence there can be a connotative term that is not an adjective noun, such as “father” or “creator,” although every adjective is connotative.
THIRD SUBDIVISION: A categorematic term is either of first intention or of second intention. A term of first intention signifies something according to what it has in the thing or in its proper state, that is, with its state in the intellect and as conceived set aside, as “white” or “man” as it exists in reality. A term of second intention signifies something according to what it has through a mental concept and in the state of the intellect, as species, genus, and other such things, which the logician treats. These are called first and second intentions because what belongs to something in itself is, as it were, first in it and its proper state; what belongs to something insofar as it is understood is, as it were, second, a second state supervening upon the first. Hence it is called a second intention, as if it were a second state.
FOURTH SUBDIVISION: A categorematic term is either complex or incomplex. A complex term is one whose parts are independently significant, as “white man.” An incomplex term is one whose parts are not significant separately, as “man.”
Note two things. First, a complex term can also be an expression, but it is an expression under one mode and formal aspect, and a term under another. It is an expression when its significant parts are considered as composing one whole, because the intellect, as it were, attributes one to another and rests there as in a certain composite whole. It is a term when those significant parts are considered not as composing a whole, but as making up a certain part composed of other parts, which is nevertheless in itself ordered toward composing a whole—just as the head is a part of a man, although it is composed of other parts, such as the eyes, ears, mouth, and so on. Second, for a term to be complex, it must have parts that are independently significant, that is, parts that have and exercise their signification even within the complex they compose, so that if any part were deprived of its signification, the complex would be destroyed. Hence the principal rationale of a complex term is that its parts are subordinated to several concepts, as St. Thomas teaches, On Interpretation I, lecture 41. For this reason, terms of a compound figure, such as equifer, legifer, and so on, are incomplex for the dialectician, because they are subordinated to a single incomplex concept and imposed with a single signification, such that even if equus were deprived of its own signification, equifer would still signify the same thing.
The FIFTH DIVISION concerns the comparison of terms with one another. For some are irrelevant or disparate, that is, neither does one imply the other nor is one incompatible with the other, as “white” and “sweet,” “learned” and “just.” Others are relevant, that is, one implies the other or is incompatible with it. They are therefore divided into relevant by entailment and relevant by opposition. Relevant by entailment are terms that follow from and accompany one another, as “man” and “capable of laughter”; relevant by opposition are terms that are opposed and incompatible with one another, as “seeing” and “blind,” “hot” and “cold.” Opposition by incompatibility is treated in the Post-Predicaments, in the chapter on Opposites2, and below, in treating the opposition of propositions3; therefore we shall pass over it here.
Caput V: ON THE NAME
Up to this point we have treated the term as a simple part of an expression that includes within itself all the parts of a proposition, whatever those parts may be. Now we proceed specifically to the parts of which an expression must be constructed, and divide them not according to their various modes of signifying, as we have done up to now with the term, but according to their different modes of composing and constructing an expression. For the dialectician these are two, namely, name and verb, which Aristotle treats in On Interpretation I1. As St. Thomas notes there, lecture 12, the dialectician considers only these two as parts of an expression, setting the others aside, because only these two, namely, name and verb, are required of necessity for an enunciation, since without them not even a simple enunciation can stand. The name therefore composes the enunciation as an extreme; the verb, as that which joins and serves as the connecting middle. Thus they have different modes of constructing a proposition.
Aristotle therefore defines a name as “a vocal sound significant by convention, without time, no part of which signifies separately, finite and in the nominative case.” Aristotle defines it thus in On Interpretation I, and St. Thomas explains it there, lecture 43.
The first three clauses have been explained in the definition of the term, namely, “vocal sound significant” and “by convention.” The remaining four are proper to the name and distinguish it from those things that are not properly names.
The clause “without time” distinguishes the name from the verb, which signifies with time, as will be seen in the next chapter. Hence “without time” in the definition of the name does not exclude time as a thing signified, but rather signification with time as a mode of signifying, because the name signifies a thing as a standing extreme, whereas the verb signifies it as flowing, joining, and acting; every action occurs with time and motion.
The clause “no part of which signifies separately” is included to exclude an expression and a complex term: an expression, because an expression is not a name but is composed of a name; a complex term, because a complex term is not one name but several names. The account of being and of one being is the same.
“Finite” is included to exclude infinite names, such as “non-man.” Note that “non-man,” if taken as two expressions with the force of a negation, is something complex and is excluded by the preceding clause, “no part of which signifies,” and so on. But if it is taken as a single expression, it is then an infinite name and is excluded from the account of a name—not because it cannot be part of a proposition as predicate or subject, but because it lacks the mode of a name, which is to denote and signify something determinate. An infinite name, however, does not signify something determinate, but removes a determinate signification; and because it proceeds by removing signification rather than positing it, it is not a name. Observe here that the proper force of an infinite name is not simply to signify nothing: for the name “nothing” does not signify something, but removes a signification that belongs to some name. It is therefore rightly excluded from the account of a name, because it removes a name’s signification and neither posits nor has the office of positing, but rather of removing, the signification denoted.
“Straight” is included to exclude the oblique cases, by which a name is declined, such as hominis, homini, and so on. These are excluded from the category of names because they are not names in themselves, but only by reason of their principal form, or nominative, from which they are derived and from which they decline. Hence the nominative and the oblique case signify the same thing, but do not exercise signification in the same way: the oblique cases do not exercise it so as to signify the thing as a “what” and as an extreme in itself, but as belonging to another and in relation to another. It follows that they do not supply a subject to a substantive verb, but to an impersonal verb, as in “it repents me” (poenitet me). Thus they form an expression by reduction, or by understanding the nominative, as if one were to say, “Repentance possesses me.”
Caput VI: ON THE VERB
Aristotle defines the verb as “a vocal sound significant by convention, with time, no part of which signifies separately, finite and in the nominative case, and always a sign of things predicated.” So Aristotle in On Interpretation I1 and St. Thomas there, lecture 52. The first three clauses, namely “vocal sound significant” and “by convention,” have been explained in the definition of the term.
The clause “with time,” included to distinguish it from the name, signifies nothing other than signifying a thing in the manner of motion, or of action and passion, since motion is measured by time. To signify with time is not to signify time itself as a thing—for that is done by the name3—but to signify a thing as measured by time. A thing is measured by time when it is signified as flowing according to some motion or action, for motion and action are measured by time primarily and in themselves. Hence, when the verb is absolved from time, as when I say “Man is an animal,” and in other propositions of eternal truth, the verb does not cease to signify with time, that is, in the manner of action or flow; rather, it ceases to restrict the truth of the proposition so that it depends on time. That is, the extremes are joined not solely by reason of time and dependently on something temporal, but through their intrinsic quiddity, although this very thing is signified in the manner of time and action. On this, see below, question 3, article 1.
The fifth clause, “no part of which signifies separately,” is included to distinguish the verb from an expression and to exclude complex verbs, which are not one verb but several, as we said of the name. Neither an adjectival verb nor a substantive verb is subordinated to a double concept, such that it signifies a thing in order to signify action or motion as a mode of union or composition. For these are not two significations or two concepts, but one signified thing with a certain mode of signifying. Likewise, a name signifies a thing in the manner of what subsists in itself; the thing and the mode of subsisting in itself are not two significations, because no thing is signified without some mode. The verb “is” itself, whether it is “of second adjunct,” as when I say “Peter is,” or “of third adjunct,” as when I say “Peter is white,” adding a third word as predicate, always signifies the same thing, namely, being. For, as St. Thomas says, On Interpretation I, lecture 5, at the end4, this actuality is common to every form, whether substantial or accidental. Hence, when we wish to signify that any form inheres in something, we signify it by the verb “is”; consequently, it signifies composition. So St. Thomas.
The sixth clause, “finite,” excludes the infinite verb, as in “does not walk,” for the same reason that infinite names were excluded from the account of a name. A negated verb is distinguished from an infinitized verb: the negated verb corresponds to a complex concept, namely, the verb itself and the particle “not”; the infinitized verb, however, corresponds to a single concept, as we said of the name. A negated verb makes a negative proposition, but an infinitized verb does not. If a verb placed within a proposition is infinitized, this is not with respect to the copula and the union of the extremes (for this is never infinitized by negation, but is negated and thereby makes a negative proposition); rather, it is infinitized only with respect to the thing signified, as will be said below, question 3, article 2.
The seventh clause, “straight,” is included to exclude oblique verbs. Just as in the case of the name, that is called oblique which declines and falls away from the proper mode of a name, which is to signify in the manner of a “what” and of something subsisting in itself, while the oblique is signified as belonging to another; so in the case of the verb, that is called oblique which falls away from the proper mode of the verb, which is to signify with motion and action—namely, when it signifies an action in the past or future, and so on. For this is not action simply, but only what is present; hence, through the declension of tenses, the verb becomes oblique.
The final clause, “and always a sign of things predicated,” is included by Aristotle and St. Thomas, and therefore we include it, although others omit it. It is included to exclude the participle, which can indeed be placed on the side of either predicate or subject, although it signifies with time. Nevertheless, it is excluded from the account of the verb because the verb always belongs on the side of the predicate: it either signifies the predicate itself or is required to join the predicate to the subject. Therefore it is a sign—that is, a sign of things said, namely, things predicated—because it composes and joins them to the subject, as was said. If it is ever placed on the side of the subject, as with a verb in the infinitive mood, this is because the verb is then taken with the force of a name, not in the manner of a verb. So St. Thomas, On Interpretation I, lecture 55.
Liber II: ON THE MATTERS PERTAINING TO THE SECOND OPERATION OF THE INTELLECT
Caput I: ON EXPRESSION IN GENERAL AND ITS DIVISION
Aristotle defines an expression as follows: “An expression is a vocal sound significant by convention, whose parts, when separated, signify something as a word, not as affirmation or negation.” So Aristotle in On Interpretation I1 and St. Thomas in the same place, lecture 62.
Here expression is defined in general, with respect both to perfect and imperfect expression, whether simple or hypothetical. The first three clauses have been explained in the definition of the term. The clause “whose parts signify when separated” can be explained no better than by saying that an expression is subordinated to a composite concept, as is drawn from St. Thomas, On Interpretation I, lecture 63, so that within the expression itself there are parts that compose it and correspond to distinct, separate concepts as components of one whole. In virtue of the first point, expressions of a compound figure, such as respublica, signifer, and so on, are not expressions, because they do not correspond to a double concept but to one, even though the vocal sounds separated from the expression signify different things. In virtue of the second point, an expression is distinguished from a complex term, because a complex term also has significant parts and several concepts, but in the manner of a part that further composes, not in the manner of a composite whole.
Aristotle and St. Thomas include the final clause to indicate that the parts of an expression must at least be significant “as a word,” that is, as a term; they need not be affirmation and negation. For even if an expression is hypothetical and has parts consisting of affirmation and negation, nevertheless simple affirmation and negation themselves are also expressions and must be resolved into significant parts, which signify only as a simple term and not as affirmation. Therefore, in defining expression in general, what is common to every expression is included: namely, that it has parts that are simple terms or expressions.
Expression is first divided into perfect and imperfect. According to the Divine Thomas, On Interpretation I, lecture 74, a perfect expression is one “that produces a perfect sense in the mind of the hearer”; an imperfect expression is one “that produces an imperfect sense.”
A sense is called perfect or imperfect not because one involves assent and the other does not, or one involves truth or falsity and the other does not, but precisely because the perfect expression does not leave the intellect suspended, as though awaiting the whole sense of the expression; rather, it completes and expresses the entire thought perfectly, as when I say, “God is the highest good.” An imperfect expression, by contrast, does not explain the entire sense, but seems to suspend the intellect, as when I say “Peter disputing,” “if you should sleep,” “when he was passing by,” and the like. Such expressions are very close to complex terms and differ only in their mode of composing and joining terms: in an expression, they are joined in the manner of a whole, though an imperfect one that leaves the intellect suspended; in a complex term, they are joined in the manner of a composed part.