Cursus Philosophicus Thomisticus, Prima Pars Artis Logicae

IT ASSUMES that every discipline has an order: that is, every science that treats its subject matters scientifically must begin neither by chance nor at will with this or that subject. For in this way it will produce confusion, not clarity, which depends above all on the order of treatment. The order of an art or science is like the order of nature: they begin from what is more imperfect and easier and are completed or brought to an end in what is more perfect. Therefore, just as nature does, teaching begins from what is more common—that is, what pertains to more things—and from what is simpler and better known to us. But what is not better known to us, but is so in itself because of its great perfection, and is called better known by nature, that is, of a nobler and more knowable nature—such as God and spiritual things—does not begin cognition in its execution, although it is not easier to know. See Physics q. 1 on this.

THEREFORE I SAY FIRST: It pertains per se to logic to direct all three operations of the intellect, namely simple apprehension, composition, and reasoning.

No one doubts this about the second and third operation, but some doubt it about the first. Yet it follows clearly from Aristotle and St. Thomas, who says in Posterior Analytics 1, lecture 1,¹ “One action of the intellect is the understanding of indivisibles, or of incomposites, insofar as it conceives what a thing is; and the teaching Aristotle gives in the book Categories is ordered to this operation.” The holy Doctor states the same no less clearly in On Interpretation 1, lecture 1,² where he distributes the order of Aristotle’s books on logic according to these three operations of the intellect.

You may say that St. Thomas … etc. See above, p. 86, a. 3.

I SAY FINALLY: Within it … signifies a relation.

This conclusion depends on what is to be said in the following article. For now it is gathered clearly from St. Thomas, On Interpretation 1, lecture 1,³ where he says that terms, or simple expressions, can be considered in three ways: either insofar as they signify simple thoughts absolutely, and in this way they pertain to the book Categories; or “according to the account by which they are parts of an enunciation, and in this way they are treated in this book, and are therefore handed down under the account of noun and verb, whose account it is to signify something with or without time, and other such things that pertain to the account of expressions insofar as they constitute an enunciation”; or, finally, insofar as a syllogistic order is constituted from them, and in this way they pertain to the books of the Prior Analytics. Therefore, according to St. Thomas, a term or simple expression pertains to the first operation insofar as it is a part of an enunciation and is ordered to composing it. Therefore, if we rightly begin from the direction of the first operation (as has been proved), we must begin from the term in general, as signifying the account of a compositive part.

The reason is proved: In the Summulae we treat matters pertaining to logical form, or prioristic resolution; but in logic we treat matters pertaining to matter and posterioristic resolution, because in every art form is prior to matter. For this reason Aristotle called the books in which he treated the form of the syllogism the Prior Analytics, and those in which he treated its matter the Posterior Analytics. Therefore, in the present work we must treat a term or simple expression insofar as it pertains to the prioristic part and regards the construction and making of an enunciation and syllogism; hence we must treat the term in relation to what it constructs or into which the constructed whole is resolved. Therefore we must treat the term first insofar as it regards an enunciation, before treating it as it regards a syllogism, because an enunciation precedes a syllogism, being a part of it. For although the absolute consideration of a thing usually precedes its relative consideration, in the order of a particular treatise or end the relative consideration can precede the absolute one. Therefore we appropriately begin with the term according to its function or relation of making an enunciation, and afterwards will treat it under the relation of a syllogistic extreme.

OBJECTIONS ARE ANSWERED

Against the first conclusion you object: Simple apprehension is not capable of logical art or of a mode of knowing; therefore logic has no right or direction over it.

The antecedent is proved: Simple apprehension is called simple because it has nothing of art and is borne toward its proposed object as naturally as an external sense. For just as sight, for example, when a color is presented to it, sees it without any art or direction and cannot err in seeing it, so the first operation, when a human being, for example, or any other simple object is presented to it, conceives it without needing art and without risk of error. Therefore it in no way pertains to the dialectician to direct it.

IT IS ANSWERED: The antecedent is distinguished: it is not capable of logical art by way of composition and division—this is granted; by way of distinction and coordination—it is denied.

For there is a twofold art, a twofold mode of knowing, and a twofold error: one is compositional or divisional, consisting in attributing one thing to another or separating one from another; the first operation is not capable of this, since it is simple apprehension that excludes all composition. The other is a distinctive and coordinative art or mode of knowing, as when we distinguish higher from lower degrees, the intention of genus from that of species, common from particular, concrete from abstract; the first operation needs this art. For since many things are usually apprehended in it in a confused and entangled way, to unfold, coordinate, and distinguish them according to their different intentions is an art required for a mode of knowing, namely for definition and division, which are usually made according to the intention of genus and difference, etc. But correcting errors of simple apprehension on the part of the nature or thing apprehended pertains to the metaphysician; on the part of form and second intention—for example, on the part of genus and difference, concrete and abstract, and the like—it pertains to the logician.

A second argument is made against the second and third conclusions: The term as we teach it is neither simpler nor more imperfect, nor better known to us; therefore one should not begin from it.

The minor is proved with respect to its first part: a term can still be resolved into other things simpler and more imperfect, of which it consists, namely signification, voice, and syllables. Therefore one should first treat sign, syllables, and voice rather than the term. With respect to the second part, it is proved that utterance and proposition are better known than a term; therefore a term is not better known to us. The antecedent is proved: a proposition is a whole in relation to a term, which is its part; therefore at least by confused cognition a proposition is better known than a term, since in this cognition the whole is better known than the part, as is said in Physics 1.⁴ Again, a term is defined through a proposition, since a term is a part of a proposition; therefore even by distinct cognition a proposition is better known than a term. The consequence is clear, since the defining expression makes and manifests the thing defined, and so must be clearer and better known than it. For if we did not first know the proposition, how would we define a term through it? Aristotle confirms this in Prior Analytics 1, ch. 1,⁵ defining proposition first and then term. Therefore one should begin from proposition before term.

IT IS ANSWERED: The antecedent is denied. To the proof of the first part, the antecedent is distinguished: a term is resolvable into other things whose treatment pertains to logic—the antecedent is denied; into things presupposed as treated by other arts or sciences—it is granted. Therefore a term is not simpler by absolute simplicity—this is granted; by logical simplicity, or simplicity pertaining to logic—it is denied.

For voice, signification, and syllables, which are compositional elements of a term, do not pertain to the dialectician. The natural philosopher treats voice, the grammarian syllables, and the commonwealth treats conventional signs with respect to their institution, while politics treats them with respect to human communication. If the logician treats sign at all, either the treatment is borrowed from other sciences or it treats sign as the foundation of a second intention, of term, utterance, and so on. Thus logical resolution properly stops at the term as constructive of proposition and syllogism; further resolution of a term, namely into voice, signification, and the like, is not a matter of logical inquiry. A sculptor likewise stops at the wood from which he makes a statue, although wood and bronze are resolved into matter and form not by art but by nature.

To the proof of the second part, the antecedent is distinguished: a proposition is better known than a term by confused cognition—this antecedent is granted; by distinct and scientific cognition—it is denied. Therefore one must begin with proposition, and not with term—the consequence is denied, because we do not begin in the scientific order and with distinct cognition, which presupposes confused cognition of the whole.

From this the answer to the second proof is clear. For in order to define a part through its relation to a whole as an extrinsic term, or to define a term through its relation to a proposition, it suffices to know the whole itself, or proposition, confusedly; scientific and distinct knowledge is not required.

And when it is urged that the defining expression must be better known than the thing defined, the same distinction is made: better known by simple and confused cognition—it is granted; by distinct and scientific cognition—it is denied. For when color is defined by its relation to sight, one need not first know sight definitely and scientifically; it suffices to know it confusedly. This doctrine is especially true of things defined by their relation to something extrinsic, which are called in Metaphysics 7 definitions by addition.⁶ For the relation to that thing is intrinsic to the thing defined; the extrinsic thing to which it is related is not. Thus a perfect and distinct cognition of that extrinsic thing is not required. In a word, when something is defined, it suffices that its defining features be better known with respect to whether it is, not with respect to what it is.

To the confirmation from Aristotle, the answer is to turn it against the argument. For if the Philosopher, when about to treat the syllogism, first touched upon its proximate and remote matter, which are propositions and terms, into which the syllogism is resolved as its final elements, then when we proceed by way of composition and in the scientific and distinct order, we ought to begin from the term, even though confused knowledge of the syllogism and proposition with respect to whether they are is presupposed.

Finally, an argument is made: Every science begins from universals; therefore logic should begin not from the term but from that in which term and proposition agree in the logical genus, namely, from second intention in general. This also accords with the way the Philosopher begins in the Physics: he begins from mobile being in general, then explains its individual parts in the books On the Heavens, On Generation, On the Soul, and so forth. Therefore logic should likewise begin from logical being, that is, from second intention, and then descend to its parts.

It is confirmed because the mode of knowing itself is easier to know than a term: the mode of knowing facilitates and prepares the way to knowing, since it is an instrument of knowing. Therefore one ought first to treat the mode of knowing as that which is easier or facilitates science, and then the particular knowable objects, namely term, utterance, and so forth.

IT IS ANSWERED by distinguishing the antecedent: every science begins from universals, whether in predicating or in composing or causing—this antecedent is granted; from universals in predicating alone—it is denied. A term, however, is the most universal thing in composing: it composes all logical instruments, utterance, proposition, syllogism, and even the mode of knowing itself, and so on. Yet it is not always necessary to begin from what is more universal in predicating, as when it has no special difficulty insofar as it is conceived in general, but is explained through its parts; for the mode of knowing in general has no difficulty other than what is explained through its parts. As to the order observed by the Philosopher in the Physics, we say that the same order is observed in logic. Just as the natural philosopher first treats mobile being as an object in general, yet begins scientifically from the principles and elements constituting mobile being, namely matter and form, so logic treats the mode of knowing or logical form, which is second intention in general, as its object, yet begins scientifically from its first and simplest constitutive element, which is the term.

To the confirmation it is answered that the mode of knowing as scientific, to be known and defined distinctly as a thing to be known as an object, is no easier to know than a term, since the term is a part of it, and distinct and scientific cognition of a composite begins from cognition of its parts. But the mode of knowing as a condition or instrument of knowing in its exercise, and as that by which one knows, is easier than a term and prepares the way to it, just as it does to all objects that must be known scientifically. For this purpose, however, it is not necessary to know the mode of knowing itself quidditatively and scientifically beforehand, but only by a certain imperfect and confused cognition, as the whole is known in relation to its parts. In sum: a teaching that begins scientifically from the term also begins to know scientifically the mode of knowing itself, proposition, and syllogism, because scientific cognition of these begins with distinct cognition of their parts, and the first part of them is the term.

In the disputes … etc. See above, p. 89 b 32.

I SAY FIRST: It belongs to the essential notion of a logical or artificial term that it signify by convention, if it is spoken or written, but not if it is a concept.

This conclusion is common among dialecticians, who follow Aristotle in defining all the logical instruments—the syllogism, speech, noun, verb, and so on—by significant words. St. Thomas follows this view in On Interpretation I, lect. 1,¹ treating the definition of the noun, and at the end of lect. 6² treating the definition of speech. He excludes words that signify naturally, although Plato thought otherwise in the Cratylus,³ because speech and its parts are not natural things but certain artificial effects; hence they must signify artificially, or by convention, just as all artificial things are caused by human will and reason. Words lacking signification, however, represent only naturally and not by convention, and so do not of themselves belong to the construction of speech.

The REASON for the conclusion follows: a non-signifying word, such as “blitiri,” can represent nothing to the mind that needs the direction of art and contributes to reasoning. Therefore, of itself it does not belong to a logical instrument.

The consequence is clear, because every logical instrument must serve some direction and art of reason, since, as was said, the formal notion of Logic is to concern the direction of reason so that the intellect may proceed without error. Whether a non-signifying word can be taken by Logic per accidens to compose speech, we will say in the arguments.

That a term must signify by convention and not naturally is proved first as follows. Here the term is defined in general, so as to include every part of speech, even the copula or verb; this is what we understand by the name “term.” But no word naturally represents the copula of other things (if you deny this, identify one). Therefore, at least as regards the copula, a term requires signification by convention. Further, the copula signifies by convention; therefore, it cannot of itself join extremes that represent naturally. For how could the verb “is” join two sights or two groans? Thus, for there to be logical art, signification by convention is required both in the verb and in the extremes joined by the verb, and consequently in the term, which is common to them all. For if non-signifying writing—for example, a line drawn with a pen—does not compose logically, neither will a non-signifying word.

I SAY SECOND: The ultimate formality of an enunciative term is that it be a part of an enunciation, from which a simple proposition is made—not only as subject and predicate, but according to a more common notion that includes the verb and other parts, such as pronouns, adverbs, prepositions, and the like.

This conclusion is common among the Thomists, Peter of Spain, Soto, Báñez, and others. It is proved first from the authority of Aristotle and St. Thomas in On Interpretation I, ch. “On Enunciation,”⁴ where Aristotle, explaining how noun and verb are excluded from speech, says: “Noun and verb, then, are only an expression, since it is not to say that someone enunciates something by a voice signifying in this way.” Explaining these words there in lect. 8, § He excludes it from unity,⁵ St. Thomas says: “Noun and verb, then, are only an expression: an expression, that is, not an enunciation; and it seems from his manner of speaking that he himself imposed the name ‘expression’ to signify the parts of an enunciation.” Therefore, the Philosopher gave noun and verb a common name, namely, that they are only “expressions”; and, St. Thomas says, he imposed this name “to signify the parts of an enunciation.” Therefore, according to Aristotle and St. Thomas, “expression,” or “term,” signifies the character of a part of an enunciation, common to noun and verb, in which they agree and by which they pertain to the present inquiry. The holy Doctor explicitly says this in On Interpretation I, lect. 1,⁶ where he says that “simple expressions are considered insofar as they are parts of an enunciation, and thus they are treated in this book, etc.” A term or expression is therefore very well defined as a part of an enunciation, or “that from which a simple proposition is made”; for if the logician considers a term as a part, he must define it generally by its being a part. This is rightly its constitutive formality, since, when every other formality is set aside, a term or expression is understood to remain if it is conceived under the character of a part of an enunciation.

If you ask whether this consideration of a part includes all parts of an enunciation or only the principal ones, we answer that “term” or “expression” can be taken in two ways: in a general, broad, common sense, or in a restricted, more determinate sense. In the first way, “term” includes every kind of part insofar as it is a part, including adverbs, pronouns, and other syncategorematic terms. These are more connections among the parts of speech than parts of speech themselves, just as nails and similar things are not parts of a ship but connections among its parts, although they are commonly called parts of the ship, since they help compose it in one way or another. But if “term” is taken in the second way, in a strict sense, it includes only the principal parts of speech, noun and verb, to which the others are reduced: pronouns are included under nouns, and participles under verbs. Observe, however, that although the verb joins the extremes of a proposition like a union or bond, while syncategorematic terms are called connections among parts, they do so in different ways. The verb connects by signifying something after the manner of an action or motion, and can function as the predicate in a proposition, as when I say, “Peter runs” or “Peter is.” Syncategorematic terms connect by signifying in some way and not something; hence, strictly speaking, they cannot function as predicate and subject as noun and verb can, which are called the principal parts of speech. For this reason Aristotle treated only those, as St. Thomas says in the cited place; this whole doctrine is his, since he intended to treat simple speech, which necessarily requires a noun and a verb.

THE ARGUMENTS ARE ANSWERED.

First, it is argued against the first conclusion: “Blitiri” is a term, but it is not a significant word; therefore, the term is wrongly defined this way.

The antecedent is proved: It has the ultimate and essential difference of a term, namely, being part of a simple proposition; for it is part of “Blitiri is not scindapsus” and “Blitiri is trisyllabic.” It also supposits in the proposition by material supposition. Therefore, it is a term.

WE ANSWER: The antecedent is denied. In the proof, the antecedent is distinguished: that it is a part or composes a proposition materially is granted; formally and significantly is denied.

A term and the other logical instruments can be taken in two ways: objectively, for the things signified themselves, and this is materially; or formally, for the signs we use because we cannot bring the things themselves into the schools, and this is significantly. When, then, a proposition or speech is made from non-signifying words, that word stands materially for itself, as in material supposition, for example, when I say, “Man is a noun,” or “man is a word.” These words stand for themselves because they represent themselves to the senses; hence they do not need signification, but self-representation (for then we have brought the thing into the schools), which supplies the place of signification. For signification is not of itself but of another: a sign represents something other than itself, not itself. Strictly speaking, therefore, signification is required for the artificial composition of Logic; accidentally, however, it can use representation when it forms speech not about the things signified but about the words themselves, as in the argument. In that case the words compose materially, not formally.

OBJECTION: Speech composed from “blitiri” is formally speech; therefore, “blitiri” formally composes it.

The consequence is clear, since a whole that is formally a whole requires parts that are formally parts. The antecedent is proved: That is formally speech which produces the sense of speech in the hearer’s mind. Such is “Blitiri is not scindapsus.” Therefore. Moreover, Aristotle formed his demonstrations from the letters A, B, C alone, which signify nothing as an expression or term. Nor did he require all the parts of speech to be significant; he said that speech is “that some of whose parts signifies separately.” Therefore, non-signifying words formally compose speech and syllogism, and speech does not require all its parts to be significant.

WE ANSWER the first proof as follows. First, in keeping with what was said, the formality of speech, since it is a whole, consists in composition. Thus, for it to be formal speech, it is enough that composition be formally present, even if it is supplied not by the signification of the extremes but by their representation. It is supplied by the verb “is,” by which the very composition of speech is signified formally. Thus speech is formal by the formality of composition, which is taken from the verb, not by the formality of the extremes, since these compose only materially and representatively. But if all the parts were non-signifying words, it would not be speech either formally or at all.

We answer second that non-signifying words do not by themselves compose speech formally and artificially; they do so by reason of a significant word understood there, as when I say, “Blitiri is not scindapsus,” with the understood meaning, “The word ‘blitiri’ is not the word ‘scindapsus.’” Here “word” is the term that composes formally, while “blitiri” stands only objectively and materially. This is simply the true and certain solution.

The answer to the remaining proofs is clear from this. Regarding the first, about the letters A, B, C, we say that they either function materially there, or that “the word A” and “the word B” are understood, or that A and B naturally signify those first elements and letters, as is clear from the preposition “a” or “ab.” Regarding the definition of speech, St. Thomas answers in On Interpretation I, lect. 6,⁷ that the Philosopher did not intend non-signifying words to compose speech formally together with the verb, but that at least some part of speech must signify something, that is, as a categorematic term, even if the rest signify only in some way as syncategorematic terms.

Second, it is argued against the second conclusion: The formality of a part differs from that of an extreme. But a term is an extreme of a proposition, as Aristotle says in Prior Analytics I, ch. 1, defining a term as “that into which a proposition is resolved.”⁸ Therefore, the ultimate formality of a term is wrongly said to consist in its character as a part.

The major premise is proved: The notion of a part is more universal than that of an extreme. A part is preserved in that which composes a whole; an extreme, however, is that which contains and closes off the whole, so that the whole does not extend beyond it and it functions as a principal part. Therefore, the major premise is true.

WE ANSWER by explaining the minor premise: Aristotle there spoke of the syllogistic term, not the enunciative term with which we are concerned here. The former consists in being an extreme; the latter consists in being a part and includes all parts of speech, even the less principal ones. The reason is that an enunciative term is ordered only to constructing truth in an enunciation, whereas a syllogism, or syllogistic term, is ordered to inference. Truth is composed not only from the extremes but also from the joining verb, adverbs, or negations, on which the truth of a proposition often depends. Since, then, we are treating the term as ordered to composing an enunciation, we take it generally, to include every part of an enunciation. But syllogistic inference is not considered as true, but as inferring; it therefore requires only three terms: two that are extremes in the conclusion to be inferred, and a third that serves as a middle, proving and inferring and joining by inference. This can belong only to subject and predicate. Hence only the extremes of a proposition are syllogistic terms. The Philosopher spoke of these in the cited passage, whereas we do not; we use the term in a broader sense.

Finally, it is argued: Being a part of a proposition belongs to things other than a term; therefore, a term is not well defined by the notion of a part.

The consequence is clear, because a definition cannot belong to things other than what is defined. The antecedent is proved: This belongs to a proposition and to speech, since a proposition composes a syllogism and another hypothetical proposition, which essentially consists of categorical propositions.

If you say that a term composes a simple proposition, whereas a categorical proposition composing a hypothetical one composes a composite proposition, namely, a hypothetical one, the objection is: A categorical proposition also composes another simple proposition. The proof: “Man is an animal and true” is a certain simple categorical proposition and is composed from “Man is an animal.” Therefore, a categorical proposition too is a part composing a simple proposition.

If you say that a proposition composes another not as a part in itself, primarily, and essentially, as a term does, but accidentally and secondarily, the objection is: A syllogism and a hypothetical proposition are composed of propositions in themselves; therefore, propositions are parts composing and constituting them in themselves.

WE ANSWER all these points with this distinction: A proposition can compose another proposition, simple or composite; distinguish: in itself—denied; accidentally—granted. Therefore, that being a part, which is the notion of a term, belongs to a proposition—the consequence is denied, because a term composes a simple proposition in itself, not accidentally.

This is explained as follows: Some things are parts in themselves and are ordered in themselves to the composition of a whole; others have in themselves the character of a whole, and if they are ever ordered to compose another whole, this is not in itself but accidentally. For example, a person’s bones and flesh are parts of that person in themselves and are ordered in themselves to composing the person. But a human being, because in himself he has the character of a whole, is not ordered in himself but accidentally to composing another whole, such as an army. The same is true of a house: it is a whole in itself, and if it composes a city, it does so accidentally. In the same way, in logical artifacts, terms are parts in themselves and are ordered in themselves to composing a simple proposition, because they do not have another essence already constituted (for this is how we understand “from which a simple proposition is made,” the difference of a term). But because a proposition is a whole in itself, if it sometimes composes another proposition, it is not ordered to this in itself but accidentally, since this does not constitute it in its essence.

To the final reply, we answer that according to Aristotle, in the chapter on enunciation,⁹ a hypothetical proposition and a syllogism have unity of conjunction or order, not unity simply, as a categorical proposition does. Composites or wholes composed only by conjunction and order can be composed of parts that are not parts in themselves and primarily, but accidentally and materially, as an army is composed of many people and a city of many houses.

YOU WILL ASK: As was said above from St. Thomas, a term can be considered in three ways: as belonging to the categories, as a part of a proposition, and as a part of a syllogism. Why, then, is it not defined according to a common notion covering all these formalities and considerations?

We answer that a term, insofar as it belongs to the categories, is taken for the things signified themselves, as they are ordered in a category according to higher and lower degrees. Insofar as it belongs to a proposition or syllogism, it is taken for a sign or significant voice. Thus it cannot be defined by one definition, since a sign and a thing are not one and the same. Or, even if it could be defined this way, that is not relevant here, where we treat only the term insofar as it precisely belongs to logical form and prioristic resolution.

YOU WILL ASK FINALLY: Why is a term defined more specifically and only as a part of a proposition rather than of a syllogism, since it also composes a syllogism most formally? For without the verb, at least, no conclusion would be inferred and no syllogism would exist.

We answer that the verb composes and is required for a syllogism presuppositively, by reason of the enunciation, not by reason of inference. For it is not required to join the extremes by way of inference and proof, but by way of enunciation. Since an enunciation is presupposed to a syllogism, the verb is presupposed as well, but not formally.

On p. 106 b 32.

THE REPLY: The antecedent is denied. In proof of it, the antecedent is granted, because not everything is enumerated there adequately. The consequent is distinguished: “Therefore a spoken word does not signify a thing through a concept as its formal rationale or as its primary and immediate signified,” is granted; for the formal rationale of signifying in a spoken word is imposition, and in a concept it is likeness. “It does not signify a thing through a concept as its principal signifier, of which the spoken word is a substitute and as it were an instrument,” is denied. For a spoken word signifies a concept because it is substituted in its place, to supply what the concept cannot reach, namely, to make it manifest externally both to itself and to others. Thus a spoken word is as it were a substitute representing both its principal, which it serves (the mental word, from which, as St. Thomas says in question 4 of De Veritate, article 1, reply 7,¹ it participates in being and signification), and that to which it is ordered, namely, the thing signified. Thus spoken words signify the concept as the principal signifier, but the thing as what is directly signified. Spoken words represent things as conceived specifically and in exercise; that is, the “as” states a condition, for things are represented as conceived, but not by taking “as” reduplicatively to mean the state in which they are known. Spoken words sometimes also signify things as subject to the intention and state they have in the mind. Then the intention itself is as it were the thing represented, as with logical intentions such as species, genus, etc.

For the second proof, etc., p. 107 a 28.

Concerning the second point, namely, what spoken words signify principally, things or concepts, the reply is that they signify principally things, unless perhaps the thing signified is itself a concept or its intention.

THE REASON IS that the concept itself is ultimately and principally ordered to representing the thing itself, of which it is an intentional likeness. Therefore a spoken word, which is only an instrument of the concept in representing and makes the concept itself sensible, will be principally ordered to representing those same things, since it serves the concept precisely for this purpose.

YOU WILL OBJECT, FIRST: An instrument regards its principal, from which it is moved, more than the effect it produces. Therefore, from the fact that a spoken word is an instrument of the concept, it is inferred rather that it signifies the concept principally and the thing less principally, the thing that it makes intelligible or knowable.

The reply distinguishes the antecedent: “An instrument considered in its account of operating and acting” is granted; “in its account of representing” is denied. For a representational instrument, such as a spoken word, has as the principal source of its representation a concept that is also representative of a thing. To manifest that representation to others, the concept substitutes a spoken word for itself; thus the principal signified of both is the thing itself. Hence St. Thomas says in question 9 of De Potentia, article 4,² that “that is signified formally by a name to which it was principally imposed, just as the name ‘man’ was imposed to signify what is composed of body and rational soul.”

SECOND OBJECTION: The divine Word represents the Father, who is the principle expressing the Word, more principally than creatures, which are things expressed and represented by it. Therefore an external word, or spoken word, will also represent its expressing principle, namely, the concept, more principally than the thing it signifies and expresses.

The first reply is: Let the antecedent pass, and the consequent is denied, because a spoken word is not a natural expression of its principle, as the Word or concept is, but is imposed and principally ordered to signifying that which the concept naturally represents, namely, things. The inference from one case to the other is therefore unsound.

The second reply is that a concept or word represents principally its principal and formal object, because it is an expression of its formal principle, which is the impressed species representing the object of which it is formally the species. In divine things this is the Essence and the Persons. Creatures, however, are a secondary and material object and are therefore not represented principally by the Divine Word. It does not follow from this that an external word, or spoken word, represents the concept more principally, because the concept is not the formal object represented, but the principal signifier of the thing.

Those who assert that the essence of a term consists only in its account of terminating syllogistic resolution assign two divisions to a term: one per se, by which it is divided into a prioristic and posterioristic term, since only this twofold resolution is given; the other accidental, namely an accident into its subjects, by which the term is divided into major and minor extreme.

Those, however, who establish the quidditative and formal account of a term in its account as a part divide it essentially according to the different specific account of the part composing an utterance or proposition. What this division is must now be investigated.

THEREFORE I SAY FIRST: A syllogistic term, as such, is not divided by an essential division according to the termination of prioristic or posterioristic resolution.

THE BASIS IS THIS: A twofold and opposed essence cannot belong to one and the same thing. But the termination of prioristic and posterioristic resolution belongs to one and the same simple term. Therefore these two terminations are not essential differences essentially dividing a term.

The minor is proved: the same term, for example human being, insofar as it grounds a necessary connection with its proper properties or essential predicates, grounds demonstrative posterioristic resolution; with respect to contingent predicates it grounds topical resolution. But insofar as it regards universality or particularity, affirmation or negation, it grounds prioristic resolution, which is wholly based on “being said of all” and “being said of none,” from which the various modes and figures of syllogistic form receive their termination. Therefore all these respects can belong to the same term, and so they do not divide it essentially, but are different respects and formalities found in the same term.

I SAY SECOND: An enunciative term is divided essentially into noun and verb, and into categorematic and syncategorematic. The other divisions, although they divide a term according to a different account of sign, on the part of the thing signified, do not divide the essential account of the term itself as a part of a proposition.

THE FIRST PART of this conclusion is proved: an enunciative term formally consists in the account of a part that composes and resolves a proposition, as was said above; therefore that which divides a term per se and essentially is what divides the account of a part per se and essentially. Further: categorematic and syncategorematic, noun and verb, differ essentially in the account of a part; therefore the division of a term into these members is an essential and per se division.

The minor is proved: those things differ essentially in the account of a part that differ in the way they compose a whole, for the essence of a part is to be compositive of a whole. But categorematic and syncategorematic, noun and verb, differ essentially in the way they compose an enunciation. Therefore they differ essentially in the account of a part and term. The minor is proved: by its own essence, the categorematic is a principal part that signifies something per se, while the syncategorematic is a part that modifies and signifies in some way; hence St. Thomas said in On Interpretation 1, lecture 1,¹ “these syncategoremata are more bindings of parts than parts.” The minor is therefore true with respect to this part. Its second part is clear, since the noun composes as an extreme, while the verb is a copula and union; but to compose as an extreme and as a copula is by nature to have the account of part in different ways, and therefore also the account of term. For the specific distinction of parts in the account of a part is taken according to their different relations and different ways of composing the whole to which they are ordered, as is clear in foot, eye, and ear, which differ in species in the account of a part, whatever may be the case as to whether they also differ in species in the account of substance. Therefore the different way of composing an enunciation found in noun and verb makes them differ essentially in the account of part and term.

THE SECOND PART of the proposed conclusion—that the other divisions of terms are not essential but accidental and do not divide a term in the account of part, but in the account of sign—is clear by examining them. For the division of a term into mental, spoken, and written is according to different subjects and different modes of signifying. The mental term signifies naturally, while the spoken and written terms signify conventionally; this is material with respect to the very essence of a term, which consists in a second intention and the relation of a part. The division into univocal and equivocal, common and singular, connotative and absolute, of first intention or of second intention, is also accidental, because all these divisions are made on the part of the different thing signified or different modes of signifying, not according to a different orderability of one sign to another or to the whole composite under the account of a part. Indeed, these are rather divisions not of a logical sign—that is, a sign ordered to the construction and composition of discourse and judgment, and productive of logical operations—but of a grammatical or political sign, that is, a sign insofar as it signifies different things. Therefore the whole diversity belongs on the part of what is signified or signification. These divisions do not essentially diversify a logical sign or term, since all these terms differ precisely on the part of what is signified, which is material with respect to the different way of composing a proposition or syllogism. In a human body, for example, flesh, bones, and sinews differ in the account of a part because they compose in different ways; but the fact that this part, nose or ear, has a particular shape or color does not essentially vary the account of a part. Thus the logical whole, which is a proposition, regards nouns or extremes as its principal parts, out of which it is formed and on which it rests as on bones; the verb is its union or sinew, and syncategoremata are its bindings and modes. But whether they signify univocally, equivocally, commonly, or singularly is material to their account as parts of a proposition.

I SAY FINALLY: The division of a term into predicate and subject, and into major and minor extreme, is not essential but accidental.

IT IS PROVED: Being predicate or subject, major or minor extreme, can belong to the very same term; therefore these are not differences or members that essentially divide the account of a term.

The antecedent is clear: every term (except syncategoremata and a verb insofar as it exercises the function of copula) that can be a subject can also be a predicate. For the essence of a term is found outside a proposition, and there the term has the capacity to be made a subject and to be predicated. But in fact being assumed within a proposition as predicate or subject, major or minor extreme, is something accidental and pertaining to the term’s actual exercise as a component; it can belong to the same term at the intellect’s discretion. Therefore these members do not diversify a term essentially.

You will object first against the second conclusion: sign is the genus of term; therefore terms that differ essentially in the account of sign differ all the more essentially in the account of term.

The antecedent is clear from what was said above: the expression “signifying conventionally” is placed in the definition of a term in the place of the genus.

The consequence is proved: members that divide some genus essentially cannot divide or diversify only accidentally a species composed from that genus. But mental and spoken, common and singular, and so on divide sign, the genus of term, essentially. Therefore they cannot divide or diversify a term only accidentally. The minor and the consequence are clear. The major is evident from an example: if animal, which is the genus of human being, were divided or diversified essentially by some members, it would be necessary for those same members to diversify human being and horse essentially. And so forth.

IT IS ANSWERED, by distinguishing the antecedent: sign is the genus of term if sign is considered absolutely and most universally—this antecedent is denied; if sign is considered insofar as it is subject to logical intention, that is, orderable to the operations of reason, the antecedent is granted. The consequence is distinguished in the same way: terms that differ essentially in the account of sign according to the account by which sign is the genus of term differ in the account of term—this consequence is granted; according to the absolute account of sign, it is denied.

For an explanation, observe this fine doctrine. In artifacts, whether real or of reason, matter is said to be a genus or to be put in place of a genus. Matter can be considered in two ways: either in itself and absolutely, or as entering into the order and line of an artifact. For example, stone, wood, gold, and silver are the matter of an artifact for a natural philosopher, namely, a statue, and consequently its genus. But they are not matter or genus absolutely and considered precisely according to their essential predicates, for then the division of a statue into wooden, stone, and golden (or according to different kinds of stone or wood) would be an essential division, which no one will say; these are material with respect to the account and diversity of a statue. Stone, wood, and so forth are therefore the matter and genus of a statue insofar as they are subject to an artificial form and enter into an artificial order. For natural and artificial things do not belong to the same genus; thus species of artificial things do not have matter considered in itself and absolutely, and as something natural, for their genus, but matter insofar as it enters into such an order. Hence matter, and a division or diversity of matter considered in itself, does not essentially vary an artifact.

Likewise, a term is a kind of logical artifact: sign is its matter and is therefore placed in the position of genus. But sign is not its matter when considered according to the common account of sign and absolutely, but insofar as it is subject to a logical artificial form. Hence mental, spoken, common, singular, and so on do not vary a term or sign essentially insofar as sign is the genus of term, but only materially, just as gold, stone, and wood do not vary a statue or the genus of a statue essentially, but only materially and accidentally. Therefore terms are distinguished accidentally as predicates, just as a statue is golden, wooden, or stone.

A second argument is made: propositions are distinguished in species according to a different thing signified or a different truth that they signify; therefore terms are too.

The consequence is proved: a term is ordered per se to a proposition; therefore a term ordered per se to a proposition distinct in species will be a term distinct in species. Therefore, in the end, terms are essentially diversified by signification.

It is confirmed: definitions of terms differ; different logical intentions are found in them; and one common term cannot become singular. Therefore terms are essentially distinguished, for these are signs of an essential distinction.

IT IS ANSWERED: The antecedent is distinguished: propositions are distinguished in species according to a different thing signified, etc., in the formal account of proposition and logical art—this is denied; in the account of representation and sign—it is granted. The consequence must be distinguished in the same way. For propositions and terms are distinguished according to signification materially, not formally or in their artificial form. Thus a term is not ordered per se, totally, and adequately to one determinate proposition only, but to any proposition that can be made from such a term, just as prime matter is ordered to any corruptible form.

As to the first part of the confirmation, the answer is by distinction: definitions of terms differ by an accidental diversity—this antecedent is granted; by an essential diversity—it is denied. For the definitions mentioned are descriptive and explain only what is accidental to a term as such, even if it is essential to a term of that kind. For example, a human being is defined insofar as white, as that which scatters vision. This definition is accidental to a human being in itself, but essential to a human being insofar as white. Thus the definitions of a connotative, common, singular, and so on term are accidental to a term in itself and in general, but essential to a term as connotative, singular, and so on. These terms include the account of term as a subject, just as white includes body and snub includes nose, not as a genus. The same answer applies to the second part of the confirmation: the intentions of terms are accidental to a term, but essential to a term of that kind. To the third part, the antecedent is granted and the consequence denied: one human being cannot become another, yet it does not follow that they are distinguished in species.

We now undertake, in the following three articles, to explain the definition of the name given above, which is essential and explains the generic accounts of a logical sign and the differential accounts by which a name differs from discourse, a verb, and adverbs: “a vocal sound signifying by convention” (these phrases have already been explained in the definition of a term), “without time” (this will be explained in the definition of the verb), and “no part of which signifies separately, finite, and in the straight case.”

SOME among the more recent authors abandon Aristotle on this point and say that some names are truly names even if they have parts that signify, such as equiferus, respublica, proconsul, and other compounds, whose parts truly and properly signify separately. Therefore this part of the definition is false.

THE OPPOSITE, however, is expressly stated by Aristotle in On Interpretation I, the chapter on the Noun,¹ where he says: “In the name ‘equiferus,’ ‘ferus’ signifies nothing per se, just as in the expression ‘equus ferus.’” The Holy Doctor says the same there in lecture 4.² He gives the reason, which we reduce to this form: A name says of itself one and simple concept. For if it said several, it would not be one name but several names. Therefore, even if a name is composed of parts that otherwise signify, none of them must signify separately, insofar as it exists within the name.

The consequent is proved: When words that otherwise signify are taken up to compose one name, they do not enter into the composition of that word as components that contribute one signification from their own significations; rather, they receive another imposition, distinct from the one by which they were first imposed, so that they have a signification distinct from the first one they had. Therefore, they do not compose the name insofar as they formally signify; therefore they do not signify separately, because they were imposed as conjoined and received their signification as conjoined. Hence, even if each word loses its first signification, the compound still signifies. For example, “res” and “publica” separately signified “a public thing.” They are joined in the word “respublica” and, as thus conjoined, were imposed to signify a state or common government through one simple concept. Thus neither signifies separately, nor does a name result from them separately. For it is one thing to combine words to receive a new imposition, and another to construct a complex and composite concept from their significations. When they are combined for this latter purpose, they are combined as formally signifying; but not when they are combined to signify anew some simple concept that the individual parts do not signify.

FROM THESE POINTS, THE ARGUMENT IS ANSWERED: The parts of the names “equiferus,” “respublica,” etc., signify separately. The claim is distinguished: they signify separately as it were materially and per accidens, granted; formally, denied. That is, they signify when taken in themselves, but not in relation to composing that word to which a new signification of a simple concept is to be imposed. Under this formality they are not combined as signifying and as previously imposed to signify, but as capable of receiving a new imposition, materially, as though their first imposition and signification did not obtain. For example, in the name “dominus,” the parts “do” and “minus” signify separately, but they do not compose that term as parts that separately signify.

YOU WILL OBJECT: In words such as “proconsul,” “prorex,” and the like, the signification of both parts is considered so that the signification of the name results; therefore, the prior signification formally enters into the name’s composition. The antecedent is proved: “Proconsul” is the same as “vice-consul,” where the signification of “pro” and “consul” is not lost but is rather considered so that the office of a vice-consul is signified. Therefore, they enter as signifying.

Following St. Thomas in the place cited above, the answer distinguishes the antecedent: the signification of both parts is considered as the origin and occasion for imposing the compound to have another, simple signification distinct from the first one the parts had—this is granted; the signification of a part is considered as being preserved partially within the name—this is denied.

For this, note that one thing is that from which a name is imposed, and another is what the name signifies. In imposing names, one considers the etymology and origin of some prior signification. This does not contribute to composing the name’s signification, but to originating it, because the imposer took it as an occasion to impose that signification. For example, lapis (“stone”) is said to derive from “hurting the foot”; providentia (“providence”) from pro and videntia; propheta (“prophet”) as if from procul fans; proconsul from pro and consul; respublica from res and publica. These are nevertheless distinct impositions, and one is not a part of the other, but its origin or occasion. Thus these names have their etymology from other words, but they are not composed of those words’ partial significations.

THE SECOND ARGUMENT: A complex name is truly a name and yet has parts that signify separately; therefore the phrase “no part of which, etc.” is wrongly posited. The major premise is proved: A complex term is truly a term; therefore a complex name is truly a name.

The answer denies the major premise. The antecedent of the proof is granted and its consequent denied. The difference is that in a term the account of a part is considered formally and principally: we find composite parts, as an arm is a part of a human being, yet it is composed of hand, fingers, sinews, etc. A complex term is therefore one term because it is one part, even if it is composite and complex. In a name, however, the account of a part is not principally and formally considered, but the account of the name is: namely, that it be a mark and designation of a thing, for this is why it is called a name. We use names to designate, make known, and distinguish things. A complex name, then, is not one name but several, because it is not one mark and designation but several; thus it will be one term, but not one name.

OBJECTION: An equivocal name is one name and yet signifies many things, as is clear from its definition. Therefore, even if a complex name signifies many things, it will still be a name and one name.

The answer is that an equivocal word is one name by reason of one significant vocal sound. For in concrete terms of accidents, unity of subject gives unity simply and individually, although the forms are several; just as a subject having color and heat is not several “such-things,” but one “such-thing,” as is said in Logic, question 13, article 2.

Here we explain the particle “finite,” by which we said that infinite names are excluded from the account of a name. An infinite name is “one which, when some negation is added, makes its signification indeterminate.” This is to be infinitized.

In this connection, note that a negation attached to a term can act upon it in two ways: either by passing into its signification, destroying it and substituting in its place the negation of the thing signified, which indeed applies to all subjects capable of such a negation; or by leaving its signification unchanged and removing composition or copulation, since its force attaches to the verb as it copulates the extremes. When it acts in the first way, it is said to infinitize, that is, to render the name itself indeterminate; when it acts in the second way, it is said to negate, and it makes the proposition negative. Hence this effect of negating is exercised only within a proposition, since it concerns the copula.

Hence, for a name to be infinitized, the negation must not be signified in its own right and by the very first imposition; rather, by affecting the name, it must render its signification indeterminate, that is, signifying not what the thing is but what it is not. Thus the names “no one” and “nothing” are not infinite, because they signify negation itself in its own right and directly under a determinate concept, rather than making some positive signification indeterminate by an added negation.

Second, it must be observed that an infinite name is incomplex and connotative.

The first is established by Aristotle and St. Thomas, who expressly assert it in the first book of the Perihermeneias, in the chapter on the Name.¹ It also follows from the reasoning: an infinite name does not leave its signification in the state it had, but changes it into its opposite, namely, into the negation of what it signifies. Therefore it does not retain a double signification, the positive one it had before and the added negation—for if it retained both, it would not change the former. Therefore it is not complex, since there is no double signification in it. Hence there is no infinitization in the complex expression “no man,” because both significations remain intact. The signification must therefore be wholly changed, from a double one into a single one, and consequently be incomplex.

That it is connotative is clear, because an infinite name signifies negation not abstractly but concretely; therefore it signifies connotatively, since formally it signifies the denied form, and on the side of the subject that has it, of which it is concretely predicated. This is what it is for something to be connotative. — The antecedent is proved as follows: an infinite name is verified of something positive, but it cannot be verified if it signifies negation abstractly; therefore it must signify negation concretely and as something inhering. The minor is proved because one cannot say of a stone, for example, “A stone is the negation of a man,” but one can say, “A stone is a non-man.” Therefore, to be predicated, it must be signified concretely and connotatively.

LET THIS, THEN, BE THE CONCLUSION: An infinite name is not a name, and is rightly excluded from the account of a name by the particle “finite.”

So say Aristotle and St. Thomas here.²

The FIRST PART, that it is not a name, is commonly admitted by all. It is proved as follows: infinitization removes the proper and essential function of a name; therefore an infinitized name is not a name.

The antecedent is proved: the proper function and account of a name is to be a mark and designator of a thing, as we said above. A name is so called from marking, because by each thing’s name we mark, distinguish, and designate it. But an infinite name neither marks, designates, nor names anything; therefore it is not a name. The minor is clear, because as soon as a name is infinitized, it renders its signification indeterminate and signifies only what something is not, not what it is, as can be seen in “non-man” and the like.

The SECOND PART of the conclusion, namely, that it is excluded by the particle “finite” and not by another, is disputed by some recent writers, who strike that particle out as superfluous. Yet it is explicit in St. Thomas, both in Opusculum 48, chapter on the Name,³ and in the first book of the Perihermeneias, lecture 5,⁴ where, treating of the infinite verb (and the same applies to the name), he says that the Philosopher first defined the verb in general and then, by these particles, excluded those things that are imperfectly verbs. Therefore a perfect and exact definition of the name and the verb requires these particles; without them—or, to speak to the point, without the particle “finite”—the proper function and mode of signification of a name are not explained: namely, signifying by way of a mark, or marking what the thing is. For this is what naming is.

Nor is the infinite name excluded by the particle “of which no part, etc.,” because, as we said, an infinite name has no parts but is incomplex. For if it were complex, a proposition with an infinitized subject would be negative, because that negation would also extend to the copula and not only to the subject, since there it would have its partial signification, which formally and significatively composes the proposition and, contrary to its nature, would destroy everything it encountered after itself. But the consequence is absurd, as is evident in conversion by contraposition, which proceeds from a negative proposition to an affirmative one with infinitized terms. Therefore, and so on.

OBJECTIONS ARE ANSWERED.

First you will object: An infinite name is truly a term; therefore it is truly a name.

The antecedent is proved: it is an extreme and a part of a proposition, as is clear in “A stone is a non-man”; therefore it is a term. The consequent is proved from St. Thomas, first book of the Perihermeneias, lecture 1,⁵ who says that every proposition must consist at least of a name and a verb, since these are its principal parts. Therefore, if a genuine proposition is formed from a verb and an infinite name, the infinite name truly is a name.

It is confirmed: a verb that serves as the copula in a proposition truly is a verb; therefore a name that is an extreme copulated or capable of being copulated truly is a name. For just as it belongs to the account of a verb to be a copula, so it belongs to the account of a name to be an extreme capable of being copulated.

The argument is answered: The antecedent is granted and the consequent denied. For to be a term, it suffices to be a part in some way; but to be a name, it must be a part by way of a mark, or of marking what the thing is. An infinite name does not have this.

To the proof from St. Thomas, it is answered by explaining the proposition “Every proposition must consist of a name, etc.”: that something acquires the status or property of a name intrinsically and in its own right, or by accommodation and accidentally, is granted; that it is intrinsically and strictly a name is denied. For many things are placed in a proposition as extremes—not because they are names, but because they are put in place of a name or are taken in the force of a name—as St. Thomas says in the present lecture 5 and in Opusculum 48, chapter on the Verb. Thus one might say, “To run is to move,” “yesterday is not today,” or “quickly is not slowly.”⁶ These expressions acquire a certain use as a name through the accommodation of the intellect, not through the proper character of their signification, but only accidentally; and thus they form a proposition. The same is said of an infinitized name.

To the confirmation it is answered: the antecedent is granted and the consequent denied. The difference is that for something to be a verb, nothing more is required than that it signify by copulating, or by way of a copula; for this is the proper function and office of a verb, so that if it has this, it truly is a verb. A name, however, does not merely have to be an extreme capable of being copulated; it must also be so by way of a mark, or of marking. An infinite name does not have this, and therefore is not a name.

Second argument: An infinite name signifies something certain and determinate on the side of its formal signification, although it signifies indeterminately on the material side and as regards what it connotes; therefore it truly is a name.

The consequent is clear, because each thing, in order to be or be called this or that, must be judged according to its formal character, which is primary and specificative in it, and not according to its material or connoted character. The antecedent is proved because “non-man,” for example, signifies a determinate negation, namely, of man and not of horse, just as “blind” signifies the negation of sight and not of hearing. Therefore, just as “blind” truly and properly is a name, so too are “non-man” and the other infinite names.

It is confirmed: “intelligible” and “imaginable” signify something indeterminate, just as “non-man” does. For they are said both of what is and of what is not, both of real beings and of beings of reason, and yet they truly are names. Therefore, the fact that an infinite name signifies something indeterminate should not exclude it from the account of a name.

A second confirmation: transcendent or supertranscendent names can be infinitized by adding a negation, just like other names; and yet when so infinitized they truly remain names. It is proved as follows: “non-being,” for example, when so infinitized, either signifies something or nothing. If it signifies nothing, then it does not signify, and so it is neither a term nor a name, but falls away from its signification through the added negation. If it signifies something, then it signifies being; and thus “non-being” would signify being, which is contradictory.

The argument is answered: The antecedent is distinguished: that an infinite name signifies something certain and determinate on the side of the thing signified is granted; that it does so by its mode of signifying is denied, and the consequent is denied. For to be a name, it is neither sufficient nor necessary to signify a certain and determinate thing; rather, it must signify in a certain, determinate, designative, certifying mode, by way of a mark.

To the proof: “Non-man signifies a determinate negation” is distinguished: on the side of the thing signified, granted; by a determinate mode, as if marking and designating, denied. In this connection, note that signifying something determinate can be understood in two ways: either on the side of the thing signified, that is, signifying a determinate thing; or according to the mode of signifying, that is, in a mode that designates what the thing signified is. For something to be a name, it is not required that it signify something determinate in the first way. However indifferent and common something may be—even negation itself, or “intelligible,” “imaginable,” or “being”—if it is signified in a designative and marking mode, that is, one that says what the thing is or how it is, it will be a true name. But if it signifies a determinate thing in an indeterminate mode, one that does not designate or mark what it is, but rather what it is not, it will not be a name, because it lacks the function and office of a name, which is to name or designate; for by naming we distinguish and designate one thing from another. Nor is something judged to be a name solely by the thing signified, but also by the mode, which belongs to the formal signification and distinguishes a verb from a name: a verb signifies in one way, a name in another, although they signify the same thing, as “I run” and “running” do.

Hence the answer to the proofs and confirmations is clear. Although “blind” signifies the negation of sight, it signifies as if marking and designating what something is, not what a form is not, as “non-man,” “intelligible,” and “imaginable” do: these signify the most indeterminate things, but in a determinate mode. — To the final proof, the minor is denied. To the proof that “non-being” either signifies something or nothing, it is said to signify the negation of being, not in a determinate and designative mode that says what the negation of being is, but by saying what is not. Therefore, “non-being signifies something” is distinguished: insofar as it is signified by the infinitized name “non-being,” it is denied, for in that respect it signifies precisely the negation of being in an indeterminate mode. Insofar as, through reflexive cognition, that negation of being can be cognized in the manner of a being and become a being of reason, it is granted; for then it will signify a being, or something of reason, not by the name “non-being,” but by another name signifying that reflex concept of non-being in the manner of a being, for example, “a negation of reason” or “a being of reason.”

Finally, it is argued: An infinite name has parts that signify separately; therefore it remains excluded from the account of a name by the particle “of which no part, etc.,” and is not excluded by “finite.”

The antecedent is proved: “non-man” consists of “non” and “man”; but “non” composes the infinite name not materially, but significatively and according to its ultimate concept. Therefore the name is subordinated to a concept different from the one it infinitizes, and consequently to a double concept, and it is complex. The minor is proved: the infinitization of the expression “non-man” does not come from the material sound of the word “non,” but from its most formal signification; for if “non” does not signify, it removes or negates nothing. Therefore it infinitizes by signifying and not merely by composing materially.

The answer is, as was said above about “republic,” “proconsul,” and so forth, that in an infinite name, as in names of composite form, there is both the derivation of one name from another and composition. If we attend to derivation, it is certain that the signification of “non-man” was derived from the signification of “non.” If we attend to composition, “non” and “man” are related materially in the expression “non-man”; nevertheless, the infinitization that impedes the name’s positive signification originates and proceeds from the signification of “non” and “man” derivatively and efficiently, not compositionally and formally. Therefore a new imposition and signification is given, according to which the infinite name is subordinated to a single concept and signifies the negation of man concretely, since the lack of names leaves us without simple words to signify it. Thus, in infinitization, “non” is not a negation of just any kind, but a negation that changes and impedes the name’s signification.

In explaining the definition of a name, we said that the word “straight” is included to exclude oblique cases. That these are not names is clear from Aristotle, On Interpretation I, the chapter on the Noun and the Verb,¹ because the proper account and function of a name is to signify directly by naming in itself; oblique cases do not signify in this way. Therefore, they are not names.

The major premise is clear from the etymology of “name.” The minor premise is proved as follows: to signify something by naming is to signify it as if by noting and designating what it is in itself. But the cases “whose” and “to whom” signify a thing as belonging to another, not in itself and per se. Therefore, they are not names; rather, they are called cases because they fall away from the proper account of a name. Hence Aristotle and St. Thomas, in the same place, lecture 4, also assert—

[Lacuna: Reiser p. 223 is missing from 259-270.pdf; in its place the leaf numbered 233 is bound in, which belongs to On the Discourse*. The text resumes on p. 224.]*

Likewise, oblique cases differ from the straight case only through a different exercise of the very same representation; they do not add a different representation.

THE REPLY: The antecedent is granted and the consequent denied. The difference is that some modes function only as an application of a concept, while others function as an explication of a concept. The former do not arise from a different way of understanding or representing a thing, but from the application and use of the intellect, insofar as, by understanding a relation of one thing to another, it applies and joins one to the other in different ways. Such are the relation of predicate and subject, the difference of supposition, and the like. Truth and falsity similarly arise from whether a thing is or is not. Thus, when a thing exists, truth arises in the statement; when it does not exist, falsity arises, while the statement itself remains unchanged, as Aristotle said in the chapter on Substance,² because the representation need not change; rather, the object’s existence changes, so that a different relation of conformity or nonconformity to it results. In the same way, from the object’s co-existence with cognition, intuitive or abstractive cognition arises without a new representation (according to the probable opinion). Thus, the modes cited in the argument are only applications of a concept, and so they do not vary it in its representation. But the mode of obliqueness, which a future or past tense in a verb, or “what,” “whose,” and “to whom” in a noun, imports, pertains to a different way of understanding one and the same thing, as the cited Holy Doctor says in the Quodlibet. Something is understood in the straight case as a person or thing acting, and in the oblique as something acted upon or as connoting the being of another. These are different modifications of the representation and of the represented object, arising from different ways of understanding it. For the relation of an acting, possessing, or undergoing person—“by whom” or “to whom”—is not signified as a thing, but as a mode of a thing, which is signified now as “from which,” now as “to which,” etc. A concept is therefore produced under that different mode of explication. Thus this is not mere application, but explication and a different representation.

THE SECOND ARGUMENT: Oblique cases vary the intrinsic representation of a concept; therefore, they differ categorematically from the straight case, contrary to St. Thomas’s first statement.

The consequent is proved: categorematic distinction, and distinction in the account of a term, is had through a different mode of expressing one and the same thing. For example, “I run” and “running” signify the same thing; nevertheless, one does so in the mode of something flowing, the other in the mode of a noun or something standing per se, so that one is a noun and the other a verb. The same can be seen in finite names, since they differ categorematically from infinite names.

A confirmation: “white” and “whiteness” differ categorematically by the absolute and the connotative, because although they signify the same thing, they differ on the side of what is connoted or substituted. Therefore, “whose” and “what” will all the more bring about categorematic diversity.

THE REPLY: The consequent is denied. In proof of it, the antecedent is distinguished. If categorematic distinction is had through a different mode of expressing the same thing, so that the difference is only on the side of signification, the antecedent is denied; if it is a difference on the side both of signification and of the thing signified, the antecedent is granted. Oblique cases, however, retain the same thing signified and only make oblique the mode and relation in which it is understood; therefore, they do not differ categorematically. Infinite names, on the other hand, transfer a name to another thing signified, namely, to the negation of its positive form, and so they differ categorematically on the side of the thing signified.

In reply to the confirmation: the antecedent is granted and the consequent denied. The absolute and the connotative, the common and the singular, differ through a mode of signifying attributed to the thing itself, which modifies the thing signified in itself. For example, a thing as absolute or with a connotation, in the mode of something adjacent or standing per se, imports in some way a diversity in the thing. Oblique cases, however, only express a different mode of consignifying that pertains to a certain deficiency of the noun itself insofar as it is a noun: the noun signifies a thing in such a way as to note or designate what it is, while an oblique case signifies that it belongs to or is for someone. This varies the mode of consignifying the thing in the account of a noun, and pertains to the mode of consignification, not to a mode that affects the thing in itself categorematically. For such a mode can also be designated through the nominative case and not only through an oblique case, as is clear in examples concerning the common, the connotative, the absolute, and so on.

In the definition of the verb, all that remains is to explain what it means to signify with time and to abstract from time, since all the other expressions in the definition of the noun have been explained.

I SAY, FIRST: A verb, not only an adjectival verb but also a substantive verb, has a concept distinct from its extremes.

Everyone grants this concerning an adjectival verb. Some recent writers deny it concerning the substantive verb, saying that the verb “is” merely explains the agreement of its extremes and, in enunciations, signifies a connection that has no special concept distinct from the extremes. St. Thomas, however, holds the contrary view in On Interpretation I, lecture 5,¹ saying that Aristotle said the verb “is” consignifies composition because it does not signify composition principally but consequently. For it signifies what first falls under the intellect in the mode of actuality absolutely. The term “is,” taken simply, signifies actually to be. Since the actuality principally signified by the verb “is” is the actuality of every form, whether substantial or accidental, when we wish to signify any form as inhering in a subject, we signify this by the verb “is”; consequently, it signifies composition. Likewise, in Sentences I, dist. 8, q. 2, a. 3, ad 2,² he says “that ‘was’ and ‘will be’ signify essence in the mode of act and consignify time.”

Therefore the holy Doctor attributes a proper concept to the verb “is”; the union, however, is signified consequently and belongs to the verb’s mode of signifying, not to the thing signified. For it cannot be that the participle of “is,” namely, “being,” has a proper concept by which it signifies entity as such, while the verb “is,” from which it is derived, has no proper concept.

I SAY, SECOND, following St. Thomas in On Interpretation I, lecture 4,³ that to signify time as a thing signified is one thing; this is done by the nouns “time,” “day,” “year,” and “month.” To signify the relation of one time to another is another; this is done by adverbs such as “yesterday,” “today,” “tomorrow,” and the like. Another is to connote time, that is, to signify something with the determination of a time in which it occurs. Thus “lunch” signifies a midday meal, connoting the time at which it occurs; “dinner” signifies an evening meal, and so on.

Finally, to signify with time is proper to a verb: it means signifying an action or passion as in the process of coming to be, or in the mode of flux and motion. Motion and action are measured by time, as is said in the Physics; motion is that by reason of which other things are measured by time. For time is, as is said there, the number of motion, and so on. (Substance, in itself and according to the mode of substance, is not measured by time, but only insofar as it is subject to motion and change.)⁴ Hence a verb is said to signify with time because it signifies in the mode of motion and flux—that is, what amounts to the same thing, an action or passion in the process of coming to be. A noun, however, signifies without time because it signifies in the mode of substance, as something standing per se or indicating something that stands per se. There is no noun that signifies motion, action, or passion as in the process of coming to be, as can be seen in “I run” and “running.” They signify the same running, but “I run” signifies it as coming to be and being exercised, while “running” signifies it as, so to speak, already done and in the mode of substance.

To abstract from or be absolved from time means nothing other than that the verb unites the extremes without restricting them to stand for the temporal difference it signifies. This is clear in propositions of eternal truth, such as “A human being is an animal” and the like. In these, although the verb signifies with time—and this is so intrinsic and essential to a verb that it can never be absolved or dispensed from it, since it belongs to the verb by the force of its proper signification, distinguishing it from a noun—it nevertheless does not unite the extremes dependently on time. Thus it was true before all time to say, “A human being is an animal.” These and similar propositions are therefore called eternal truths not because they have a positive eternity and duration, but because they do not depend on time or rest on it, and, if necessary, are not changed through it. “When the true perishes,” Augustine said, “truth does not perish.”⁵ For a verb to be absolved from time, then, is for it to signify a truth that does not depend on time. If the truth signified by the verb does not depend on time, neither will the union of the extremes depend on time. Therefore, insofar as the verb unites the extremes, it does not depend on time; this is to be absolved from time with respect to the exercise of uniting or joining extremes that have an intrinsic connection, not a contingent and temporal one that depends on time. The verb nevertheless always signifies with time, because it must signify in the mode of action, flux, or motion, even in propositions of eternal truth, since we understand things eternal and independent of time through the mode of time. Thus, even when the union or joining of the verb is absolved from time, or does not depend on time on the side of the extremes to which it applies, we still understand it according to the mode of time. It therefore signifies with time as regards its mode of signifying, even though it is absolved from time as regards the union and relation of the extremes.

THE OBJECTIONS ARE ANSWERED.

First it is objected: Many verbs do not signify in the mode of motion and flux; therefore they do not signify with time.

The antecedent is proved: The verb “is” does not signify an action but being, like “being” itself, its participle. “I have,” “I possess,” “I rest,” and similar verbs signify no motion or action, but rather the opposite of action and motion; therefore they do not signify with time.

WE REPLY from what has been said by distinguishing the antecedent. That the verbs “is,” “I have,” “I possess,” and so on do not signify action or motion on the side of the thing signified: granted. That they do not signify it according to their mode of signifying: denied. For a verb to be verified as signifying with time, it is not required that the thing signified by the verb be an action, motion, passion, or process of coming to be; rather, it must signify in the mode of motion or time—that is, in the mode of something passing and according to the relation of present, past, or future. Thus the verb “is,” and the others listed in the argument, signify the act of being and their significations as subject to the present and passing into the past; in this way they signify with time according to their mode of signifying.

Second, it is objected to prove that a verb is not absolved from time: A verb signifies the very copula and union of the extremes. But the verb’s signification never changes; therefore neither does the union made by the verb. Therefore either the union always depends on time and so is not absolved from it, or the verb’s signification changes.

It is confirmed, first: The verb always unites by the force of its signification through some temporal difference, whether present, past, and so on. Therefore it restricts the extremes to stand and be verified according to the temporal difference it signifies, since they are united according to its requirement. Therefore it is never absolved from time.

It is confirmed, second: If a verb is absolved from time, all affirmative propositions in which the verb is absolved from time will be false. The consequence is proved: They will concern a subject that does not supposit; but an affirmative proposition with a subject that does not supposit is false; therefore. The major is proved: Supposition must be verified in relation to the copula. For example, if you say, “A human being is an animal,” it must be verified of a human being by saying, “This is a human being,” while pointing to a human being. But if it abstracts from time, one cannot point out that this is a human being, as is evident before a human being was created; therefore the supposition is not verified.

WE REPLY to the argument by distinguishing the major. That a verb signifies the copula and union of the extremes immediately, principally, and directly: denied. That it does so consequently: granted. That the verb’s signification does not change: granted as the minor. Therefore the union does not change: the consequence is denied, because union or composition cannot be understood without the extremes that are united and composed; it depends on them as regards the exercise of uniting. Thus, according to the connection of the extremes, the resulting union depends on time or is independent of time, according as the extremes do or do not depend on time.

To the first confirmation we distinguish the antecedent. That a verb always unites through some temporal difference on the side of the mode of signifying: granted. That it does so on the side of the thing signified, the thing united, or the union resulting in the extremes: denied. Therefore it restricts the extremes, and so on: the consequence is denied, because the union is rather drawn to the mode of the extremes it unites. If these do not depend on time, the union cannot restrict them or unite them dependently on time, although it signifies and unites according to its mode of signifying in relation to some temporal difference, since it cannot fail to signify with time.

To the second confirmation we reply by denying the consequence and its proof up to the major, which we distinguish as follows. It must be verified by saying, “This is a human being,” when a human being is pointed out with respect to the intellect: granted. When a human being is pointed out to the senses, or as existing in time: denied. For this supposition is natural, and its verification does not occur by pointing to a subject existing in time, but to the essence of a human being, when I say, “A human being is a human being insofar as that can be found in all individuals.”

YOU WILL ASK: Can the verbs “was” and “will be,” which are oblique cases of the verb “is,” be absolved from time? It seems that they can, because the verb “is,” since it is not equivocal, signifies not two actualities but one; therefore, just as “is” is absolved, so are “was” and “will be.” That they cannot be absolved is proved as follows: the proposition “Adam was a human being” would then be an eternal truth, although it is false with respect to the time before Adam was created.

WE REPLY with two solutions. The first denies that those oblique cases can be absolved from time, because “was” and “will be” restrict their signification only to the future or the past, which cannot abstract from time as “is,” or the account of the present, can. What is present can be signified as not passing away but always present, as are things that do not depend on time, such as the duration of God and the angel. But the past, on the side of the thing signified, essentially signifies passing and temporal succession itself; hence the union resulting from it always depends on time. This does not happen because the verb “is” has different significations or is equivocal, but because “was” and “will be” depart from the signification of the present verb. Many other verbs, such as “to exist” and “to be moved,” also cannot be absolved from time.

The second solution affirms that “was” and “will be” can be absolved from time, as St. Thomas discusses in Sentences I, dist. 8, q. 2, a. 3.⁶ They are attributed to God, as when it is said that God was from the beginning: “The Word was with God”; “God will be forever,” and so on. In that case one should say that the proposition “Adam was a human being” was true before Adam was created, taking “was” not to mean that he had existed, but that those two extremes had been connected.