Lecture 4 — The name

16a19. A name, then, is a vocal sound significant by convention, without time, no part of which is significant separately.

16a21. For in the name “Campbell,” the part “bell” signifies nothing as such, although in the expression “camp-bell” it does.

16a22. However, the case is not exactly the same in simple names and composite names, for in the former the part is in no way significant, but in the latter the part has meaning, but not apart from the word, as “fast” in “breakfast.”

16a27. “By convention” is added because nothing is by nature a name, but it is a name when it is made a sign. For unlettered sounds (such as those of the brutes) designate, but none of them is a name.

16a29. “Non-man,” however, is not a name. No name has been imposed to designate this—for it is neither speech nor a negation—but let us call it an infinite name.

16a32. “Of Cato” and “to Cato” and all such expressions are not names but modes of names.

16b1. The definition of these is the same in all other respects as that of the name itself, but in conjunction with “is” or “has been” or “will be,” they are not true or false. But if one of these is added to a name, there is always truth or falsity; for example, “of Cato is” or “is not” are neither true nor false.

A name, then, is a significant vocal sound. Having determined the order of the signification of vocal sounds, the Philosopher begins here to establish the definitions of the significant vocal sounds.

His principal intention is to establish what an enunciation is—which is the subject of this book—but since in any science the principles of the subject must be known first, he begins with the principles of the enunciation, and then establishes what an enunciation is where he says: yet not all speech is enunciative (17a2; [82]).

About the first, he does two things:

first, he determines the nature of the quasi-material principles (that is, its integral parts);

second, the formal principle, namely, speech, which is the genus of the enunciation, at: speech is significant vocal sound (16b26; [74]).

About the first he does two things:

first, he establishes that a name signifies the substance of a thing;

second, that the verb signifies action or passion proceeding from a thing, at: the verb is that which signifies with time (16b6; [52]).

About the first he does three things:

first, he defines the name;

second, he explains the definition, at: for in the name “Campbell” (16a21; [44]);

third, he excludes certain things which do not have the definition of the name perfectly, at: “non-man,” however, is not a name (16a29; [47]).

It should be noted in relation to defining the name that a definition is said to be a limit because it includes a thing totally, so that nothing of the thing is outside of the definition (that is, there is nothing of the thing to which the definition does not belong); nor is any other thing under the definition, namely, the definition belongs to no other thing.

Therefore, Aristotle posits five parts in the definition of the name.

Vocal sound is first given as the genus. This distinguishes the name from all sounds that are not vocal, for vocal sound is sound produced from the mouth of an animal and involves a certain kind of mental image, as is said in On the Soul 2.8, 420b30–34.

Second, he adds the first difference, significant, which differentiates the name from any non-significant vocal sound, whether lettered and articulated (such as “biltrix”), or non-lettered and non-articulated (like as a hissing for no reason). Now, since he has already determined the signification of vocal sounds, he concludes from what has been established that a name is a significant vocal sound.

Now, vocal sound is a natural thing, but a name is not natural but instituted by men. It seems, therefore, that Aristotle should have taken “sign,” which is from institution, as the genus of the name, rather than “vocal sound,” which is from nature. Then the definition would be: “A name is a vocal sign,” just as a salver would be more suitably defined as a wooden dish than as wood formed into a dish.

It should be noted, however, that while it is true that, on the part of their matter, artificial things are in the genus of substance, they are in the genus of accident on the part of their form, since the forms of artificial things are accidents. A name, therefore, signifies an accidental form made concrete in a subject.

Now, the subject must be posited in the definition of every accident; thus, when names signify an accident in the abstract, the accident has to be posited directly (that is, in the nominative case) as a quasi-genus in their definition, and the subject posited obliquely (That is, in an oblique case such as the genitive, dative, or accusative.) as a quasi-difference—for example, as when we define snubness as “curvedness of the nose.” But when names signify an accident in the concrete, the matter or subject has to be posited in their definition as a quasi-genus and the accident as a quasi-difference, as when we say that a snub nose is a curved nose.

Accordingly, if the names of artificial things signify accidental forms as made concrete in natural subjects, then it is more appropriate to posit the natural thing in their definition as a quasi-genus. We would say, therefore, that a salver is shaped wood, and likewise, that a name is a significant vocal sound. It would be another matter if names of artificial things were taken as signifying artificial forms in the abstract.

Third, he gives the second difference, which is by convention, that is, according to human institution deriving from the will of man. This differentiates names from vocal sounds signifying naturally, such as the groans of the sick and the vocal sounds of brute animals.

Fourth, he gives the third difference, namely, without time, which differentiates the name from the verb.

This, however, seems to be false, for the name “day” or “year” signifies time.

But there are three things that can be considered with respect to time:

first, time itself, as it is a certain kind of thing or reality, and then it can be signified by a name just like any other thing;

second, that which is measured by time, insofar as it is measured by time. (Motion, which consists of action and passion, is what is measured first and principally by time, and therefore the verb, which signifies action and passion, signifies with time. Substance considered in itself, which a name or a pronoun signifies, is not as such measured by time, but only insofar as it is subjected to motion, and this the participle signifies. The verb and the participle, therefore, signify with time, but not the name and pronoun.)

The third thing that can be considered is the very relationship of time as it measures. This is signified by adverbs of time such as “tomorrow,” “yesterday,” and others of this kind.

Fifth, he gives the fourth difference, no part of which is significant separately, that is, separated from the whole name, but each is related to the signification of the name according to its place in the whole. The reason for this is that signification is a quasi-form of the name. But no separated part has the form of the whole, just as the hand separated from the man does not have the human form. This difference distinguishes the name from speech, some parts of which signify separately—for example, in the phrase “just man.”

Then, when he says: for in the name “Campbell,“ he explains the definition.

First, he explains the last part of the definition;

second, the third part, by convention.

The first two parts were explained in what preceded, and the fourth part, without time, will be explained later in the section on the verb.

First, he explains the last part by means of a composite name;

second, he shows what the difference is between simple and composite names where he says: however, the case is not exactly the same (16a22; [45]).

First, then, he shows that a part separated from a name signifies nothing (16a21). To do this, he uses a composite name because the point is more striking there. For in this name “Campbell” the part “bell” signifies nothing of itself, although it does signify something in the phrase “camp-bell.“**

This is because one name is imposed to signify one simple conception, but that from which a name is imposed to signify is different from that which a name signifies. For example, the name “pedigree” (The Latin here is lapis, from laesione pedis. To bring out the point St. Thomas is making here, an equivalent English word of Latin derivation, “pedigree,” has been used.) is imposed from “pedis” and “grus,” (Meaning crane’s foot.) which it does not signify, to signify the concept of a certain thing. Hence, a part of the composite name—which composite name is imposed to signify a simple concept—does not signify a part of the composite conception from which the name is imposed to signify. Speech, on the other hand, does signify a composite conception. Hence, a part of speech signifies a part of the composite conception.

When he says: however, the case is not exactly the same (16a22), he shows that there is a difference between simple and composite names in regard to their parts not signifying separately.

And he says that simple names are not the same as composite names in this respect, because in simple names a part is in no way significant, either according to truth or according to appearance, but in composite names the part has meaning, that is, has the appearance of signifying; yet a part of it signifies nothing, as is said of the name breakfast.

This is because the simple name is imposed to signify a simple concept and is also imposed from a simple concept, but the composite name is imposed from a composite conception, and hence has the appearance that a part of it signifies.

Then when he says: “by convention” is added (16a26), he explains the third part of the definition.

He says that the reason the name is said to signify by convention is that no name exists naturally. For it is a name because it signifies; however, it does not signify naturally, but by institution. He adds this when he says: but it is a name when it is made a sign, that is, when it is imposed to signify. For that which signifies naturally does not become a sign, but is a sign naturally. He explains this when he says: for unlettered sounds, such as those of the brutes, designate, that is, since they cannot be signified by letters. He says “sounds” rather than “vocal sounds” because some animals—those without lungs—do not have vocal sounds. Such animals signify proper passions by some kind of non-vocal sound which signifies naturally. But none of these sounds of the brutes is a name. We are given to understand from this that a name does not signify naturally.

However, there were diverse opinions about this. Some men said that names in no way signify naturally and that it makes no difference which things are signified by which names. Others said that names signify naturally in every way, as if names were natural likenesses of things. Still others said names do not signify naturally, that is, insofar as their signification is not from nature, as Aristotle maintains here, but that names do signify naturally in the sense that their signification corresponds to the natures of things, as Plato held. The fact that one thing is signified by many names is not in opposition to Aristotle’s position here, for there can be many likenesses of one thing; similarly, from diverse properties many diverse names can be imposed on one thing.

When Aristotle says, but none of them is a name, he does not mean that the sounds of animals are not named, for we do have names for them. For example, “roaring” is said of the sound made by a lion, and “lowing” of that of a cow. What he means is that no such sound is a name.

Then when he says: “non-man,” however (16a29), he points out that certain things do not have the nature of a name.

First, he excludes the infinite name;

second, the cases of the name where he says: “of Cato” and “to Cato” (16a32).

He says that “non-man,” however, is not a name (16a29) because every name signifies some determinate nature, for example, “man,” or a determinate person in the case of the pronoun, or both determinately, as in “Socrates.” But when we say “non-man” it signifies neither a determinate nature nor a determinate person, because it is imposed from the negation of man, which negation is predicated equally of being and non-being. Consequently, “non-man” can be said indifferently both of that which does not exist in reality, as in “a chimera is non-man” and of that which does exist in reality, as in “a horse is non-man.” Now, if the infinite name were imposed from a privation it would require at least an existing subject, but since it is imposed from a negation, it can be predicated of being and non-being, as Boethius and Ammonius say. However, since it signifies in the mode of a name, and can therefore be subjected and predicated, a suppositum is required at least in apprehension. In the time of Aristotle there was no name for words of this kind. They are not speech since a part of such a word does not signify something separately, just as a part of a composite name does not signify separately; and they are not negations, that is, negative speech, for speech of this kind adds negation to affirmation, which is not the case here. Therefore he imposes a new name for words of this kind, the infinite name, because of the indetermination of signification, as has been said.

Then when he says: “of Cato” and “to Cato” (16a32), he excludes the cases of names from the nature of the name.

And he says that “of Cato” and “to Cato” and others of this kind are not names, but the nominative is the one that is said to be a name principally, for the imposition of the name to signify something was made through it. Oblique expressions of the kind cited are called cases of the name because they fall away from the nominative as a kind of source of their declension. On the other hand, the nominative, because it does not fall away, is said to be erect. The Stoics held that even the nominatives were cases (with which the grammarians agree), because they fall, that is, proceed from the interior conception of the mind; and they said they were also called erect because a thing can fall in such a way that it stands erect, as when a pen falls and is fixed in wood.

Then Aristotle shows how oblique cases are related to the name (16b1).

The definition, as it signifies the name, is the same in the others, namely, in the cases of the name. But they differ in this respect: the name joined to the verb “is” or “will be” or “has been” always signifies the true or false; in oblique cases this is not so. It is significant that the substantive verb is the one he uses as an example, for there are other verbs (namely, impersonal verbs) that do signify the true or false when joined with a name in an oblique case, as in, “It grieves Socrates,” because the act of the verb is understood to be carried over to the oblique cases, as though what were said were, “Grief possesses Socrates.”

However, an objection could be made against Aristotle’s position in this portion of his text. If the infinite name and the cases of the name are not names, then the definition of the name (which belongs to these) is not consistently presented.

We could say, as Ammonius does, that Aristotle defines the name broadly, and afterward limits the signification of the name by subtracting these from it.

Or, we could say that the definition Aristotle has given does not belong to these absolutely, since the infinite name signifies nothing determinate, and the cases of the name do not signify according to the first intent of the one instituting the name, as has been said.