PART II

Being and Reality

Being and Reality
Introduction

One of the oldest aspirations of philosophy has been to inquire into the ultimate
nature of reality. The phrase sounds impressive enough, but what does it mean?
Nowadays most people would say that investigating what there is, or what the world is
like, is the job of the scientist, not the philosopher. But in earlier times the two roles
were not dearly separated. When the writers of the Middle Ages described Aristotle as
a philosopher (indeed he was known as The Philosopher), they were thinking partly of
his accounts of the natural world, his physics, biology and so on. But Aristotle also
aimed to investigate the nature of 'being qua being', or being as such; he wanted to
analyse the basic notions that are involved in our understanding of the world. The
book in which he presents this idea of a general study of being is called the Meta -
physics. The term originally derives from the position to which the book was assigned
by early Greek editors of Aristotle, who placed it after his various writings on physics
(in Greek meta ta physica, 'after the physics' ). l3ut since the Greek preposition meta
can also mean 'beyond', the term 'metaphysics' came to be used as an apt label for
philosophical inquiry that goes beyond the particular sciences and asks very general
questions about the nature of reality and the ultimate conceptual categories in terms
of which we are to understand it. The history of metaphysics is the history of various
fundamental theories about 'ontology' or being, and it is some of the most influential
of these theories that form the subject matter of this part of the volume.
 The Allegory of the Cave: Plato, Republic*
Though the systematic study of metaphysics was
inaugurated by Aristotle, metaphysical theorizing
d id not begin with him. A variety of different
theories about the ultimate nature of the world
had been developed by those earlier Greek philo-
sophers known as the 'Presocratics'; and Aristo-
tle's own teacher, Plato, was famous for his theory
of Forms, an acruunt of a realm of abstract reality
to be apprehended by the intellect - a realm
'above and beyond' the ordinary world of par-
ticular objects that we perceive by the senses.
Plato's metaphysics is intimately linked to his
theory of knowledge (see Part I, introductio n to
e.xtr-.ict 2, above); he believed that in order to
attain genuine knowledge we need go beyond
the changing world of day-to-day partic11lars
and grasp the timeless and unchanging univenals
of which ordinary objects are imperfect instances
(thus, a particular beautiful object is only beauti-
ful in a limited and passing way- a mere copy of
the Form of Beauty, the 'beautiful itself).
In our first extract, from the Republic (written
in the early fourth century ec), Plato compares
the noblest Fo rm, the Form of the Good, to the
sun: just as the sun makes ordinary objects vis-
ible, so the Form of the Good is the source of the
intelligibility and reality of the Forms. Next, in
the simile of the 'Divided Line', Plato suggests
that o rdinary everyday objects stand in the same
relationship 10 the Forms as shadows do to their
originals. And finally, in his famous allegory of
lhe Cave, Plato compares the gradual ascent of
the mind towards the Forms with a journey from
darkness to light.
Within the cave (the ordinary world of the five
senses), most of us are like chained pri5<mers
w:itching shadows thrown by a fire. We adopt
our opinions second-hand, manipulated and
controlled by others. But even if we gei free and
look around the cave for ourseh•es, we are still
only operating within the ordinary visible world,
1he world of particular objects. We need to strug-
gle upwards, out of the cave, into the higher
world of universals, grasped not by the senses
but by the intellect. Our eyes dazzled by the
brightness, we first can look only a t reflections
in pools (perhaps corresponding to malt1ema1-
ical o bjects, which help the mind to move away
from particulars and towards abstract univer-
sals); but eventually we will be able to turn our
eyes to the light of the stars and finaUy the Sun
itself. The heavenly bodies here stand for the
Forms, and the Sun represents the ultimate
source of truth, the Form of the Good. In the
upper world of Plato's parable, we are not deal-
ing with ordinary visible light; illumination
comes instead at an intellectual level. from the
supreme Form which 'is the controlling source of
all reality and understanding'. As aJways, Plato
presents his argument in dialogue form: Socrates
( representing Plato's own views) speaks frrst; the
respondent is Glaucon.

Let me remind you of what I have mentioned in the course of this discussion, and a t WJ
many other times.
What?
The old story, that there arc many beautiful and many good things, and so of all the
other things which we describe and define - to all of them the term 'many' is applied.
True, he said.
And there is an absolute beauty and an absolute good, and of other things to which
the term ' many' is applied there is an absolute; for they can be brought under a single
idea which is called the essence of each.
Very true.
The many, as we say. are seen but not known, and the ideas are known but not seen .

• Plato, &public IPoliteiu, c.380 11c], 507bl- Sl7c6. Trans. B. Jowett, in The DialogueJ of Pkilo (Oxford·
Clarendon, 1892), vol. III, pp. 207- 17; with minor modifications.
70 BEING AND REALITY

Exactly.
And what is the organ with which we see the visible things?
The sight, he said.
And with the hearing, I said, we hear, and with the other senses perceive the other
objects of sense?
True.
But have you remarked that sight is by far the most costly and complex piece of
workmanship which the artificer of the senses ever contrived?
No, I never have, he said.
Then reflect: has the ear or voice need of any third or additional nature in order
that the one may be able to hear and the other to be heard?
Nothing of the sort.
No, indeed, I replied; and the same is true of most, if not all, the other senses -you
would not say that any of them requires such an addition?
Certainly not.
But you see that without the addition of some other nature tht:rt: is no seeing or
being seen?
How do you mean?
Sight being, as I conceive, in the eyes, and he who has eyes wanting to see; colour
being also present in them, still unless there be a third nature specially adapted to the
purpose, the owner of the eyes will see nothing and the colours will be invisible.
Of what nature are you speaking?
Of that which you term light, I replied.
True, he said.
Noble, then, is the bond which links together sight and visibility, and great beyond
other bonds by no small difference of nature; for light is their bond, and light is no
ignoble thing.
Nay, he said, the reverse of ignoble.
And which, I said, of the gods in heaven would you say was the lord of this element?
Whose is that light which makes the eye to see perfectly and the visible to appear?
You mean the sun, as you and all mankind say.
May not the relation of sight to this deity be described as follows?
How?
Neither sight nor the eye in which sight resides is the sun?
No.
Yet of all the organs of sense the eye is the most like the sun?
By far the most like.
And the power which the eye possesses is a sort of effluence which is dispensed
from the sun?
Exactly.
Then the sun is not sight, but the author of sight who is recognized by sight?
True, he said.
And this is he whom I call the child of the good, whom the good begat in his
own likeness, to be in the visible world, in relation to sight and the things of sight,
what the good is in the intellectual world in relation to mind and the things of
mind?
Will you be a little more explicit? he said.
 THE ALLEGORY OF THE CAVE: PLA TO 71

Why, you know, I said, that the eyes, when a person directs them towards objects on
which the light of day is no longer shining, but the moon and stars only, see dimly,
and are nearly blind; they seem to have no clearness of vision in them?
Very true.
But when they are directed towards objects on which the visible sun shines, they see
dearly and there is sight in them?
Certainly.
And the sou] is like the eye: when resting upon that on which truth and being shine,
the sou1 perceives and understands, and is radiant with intelligence; but when turned
towards the twilight of becoming and perishing. then she has opinion only, and goes
blinking about, and is first of one opinion and then of another, and seems to have no
intelligence?
Just so.
Now, that which imparts truth to the known and the power of knowing to the
knower is what I would have you term the idea of good, and this you will deem to be
the cause of science, and of truth ln so far as the latter becomes the subject of
knowledge; beautiful too, as are both truth and knowledge, you will be right in
esteeming this other nature as more beautiful than either; and, as in the previous
instance, light and sight may be truly said to be like the sun, and yet not to be the sun,
so in this other sphere, science and truth may be deemed to be like the good, but not
the good; the good has a place of honour yet higher.
What a wonder of beauty that must be, he said, which is the author of science and
truth, and yet surpasses them in beauty; for you surely cannot mean to say that
pleasure is the good?
God forbid, I replied; but may I ask you to consider the image in another point of
view?
In what point of view!
You would say, would you not, that the sun is not only the author of visibility in aU
visible things, but of generation and nourishment and growth, though he himself is
not generation?
Certainly.
ln like manner the good may be said to be not only the author of knowledge to all
things known, but of their being and essence, and yet the good is not essence, but far
exceeds essence in dignity and power.
Glaucon said, with a ludicrous earnestness: By the light of heaven, how amazing!
Yes, I said, and the exaggeration may be set down to you; for you made me utter m y
fancies.
And pray continue to utter them; at a ny rate let us hear if there is anything more to
be said about the similitude of the sun.
Yes, I said, there is a great deal more.
Then omit nothing, however slight.
I will do my best, I said; but I should think that a great deal will have to be omitted.
I hope not, he said.
You have to imagine, then, that there are two ruling powers, and that one of them is
set over the intellectual world, the other over the visible .. . May I suppose that you
have this distinction of the visible and inteUigible fixed in your mind!
I haYe.
72 BEING AND REALITY

Now take a line which has been cut into two unequal parts, and divide each of them
again in the same proportion, and suppose the two main divisions to answer, one to
the visible and the other to the intelligible, and then compare the subdivisions in
respect of their clearness and want of clearness, and you will find that the first section
in the realm of the visible consists of images. And by images I mean, in the first place,
shadows, and in the second place, reflections in water and in solid, smooth and
polished bodies and the like: Do you understand?
Yes, I understand.
Imagine, now, the other section, of which this is only the resemblance, to include
the animals which we see, and everything that grows or is made.
Very good.
Would you not admit that both the sections of this division have different degrees
of truth, and that the copy is to the original as the realm of opinion is to the realm of
knowledge?
Most undoubtedly.
Next proceed to consider the manner in which the realm of the
intellectual is to be divided.
In what manner?
Thus: - There are two subdivisions, in the lower of which the
soul uses the figures given by the former division as images; the
I enquiry can only be hypothetical, and instead of going upwards to
N a principle descends to the other end; in the higher of the two, the
T
E soul passes out of hypotheses, and goes up to a principle which is
L above hypotheses, making no use of images as in the former case,
L
but proceeding only in and through the ideas themselves.
Forms I K
•• I 0
I do not quite understand your meaning, he said .
Then I will try again; you will understand me better when I have
• w made some preliminary remarks. You are aware that students of
L L
EE geometry, arithmetic, and the kindred sciences assume the odd and
D the even and the figures and three kinds of angles and the like in
R G
" . E E their several branches of science; these are their hypotheses, which

mathe-
• L
they and everybody are supposed to know, and therefore they do
not deign to give any account of them either to themselves or
matical M
obje<:ts others; but they begin with them, and go on until they arrive at
last, and in a consistent manner, at their conclusion?
Yes, he said, I know.
y And do you not know also that although they make use of the

ordinary
objects .. I 0
s p
I I

LI
E 0
visible forms and reason about them, they are thinking not of these,
but of the ideals which they resemble; not of the figures which they
draw, but of the absolute square and the absolute diameter, and so
on - the forms which they draw or make, and which have shadows
and reflections in water of their own, are converted by them into
N
· R
E
images, but they are really seeking to behold the things themselves,
images
(shadoWs • L
which can only be seen with the eye of the mind?
That is true.
etc.) M
And of this kind I spoke as the intelligible, although in the search
after it the soul is compelled to use hypotheses; not ascending to a
 THE A LLEGORY OF THE CAVE: PLATO 73

first principle, because she is unable to rise above the region of hypothesis, but
employing the objects of which the shadows below are resemblances in their turn as
images, they having in relation to the shadows and reflections of them a greater
distinctness, and therefore a higher value.
I understand, he said, that you are speaking of the province of geometry and the
sister arts.
And when I speak of the other division of the intelligible, you will understand me to
speak of that other sort of knowledge which reason herself attains by the power of
dialectic, using the hypotheses not as first principles, but only as hypotheses - that is
to say, as steps and points of departure into a world which is above hypotheses, in
order that she may soar beyond them to the first principle of the whole; and clinging
to this and then to that which depends on this, by successive steps she descends again
without the aid of any sensible object, from ideas, through ideas, and in ideas she
ends.
I understand you, he replied; not perfectly, for you seem to me to be describing a
task which is really tremendous; but, at any rate, I understand you to say that
knowledge and being, which the science of dialectic contemplates, are clearer than
the notions of the arts, as they are termed, which proceed from hypotheses only: these
are also contemplated by the understanding, and not by the senses: yet, because they
start from hypotheses and do not ascend to a principle, those who contemplate them
appear to you not to exercise the higher reason upon them, although when a first
principle is added to them they are cognizable by the higher reason. And the habit
which is concerned with geometry and the cognate sciences I suppose that you would
term understanding and not reason, as being intermediate between opinion and
reason.
You have quite conceived my meaning, I said; and now, corresponding to these four
divisions, let there be four faculties in the soul - reason answering to the highest,
understanding to the second, faith (or conviction) to the third, and perception of
shadows to the last - and let there be a scale of them, and let us suppose that the
several faculties have clearness in the same degree that their objects have truth.
I understand, he replied, and give my assent, and accept your arrangement.
And now, I said, let me show in a figure how far our nature is enlightened or
unenlightened. Behold! human beings living in an underground cave, which has a
mouth open towards the light and reaching all along the cave; here they have been
from their childhood, and have their legs and necks chained so that they cannot move,
and can only see before them, being prevented by the chains from turning round their
heads. Above and behind them a fire is blazing at a distance, and between the fire and
the prisoners there is a raised way; and you will see, if you look, a low wall built along
the way, like the screen which marionette players have in front of them, over which
they show the puppets.
I see.
And do you see, I said, men passing along the wall carrying all sorts of vessels, and
statues and figures of animals made of wood and stone and various materials, which
appear over the wall? Some of them are talking, others ~ilent.
You have shown me a strange image, and they are strange prisoners.
Like ourselves, I replied; and they see only their own shadows, or the shadows of
one another, which the fire throws on the opposite wall of the cave?
74 BElNG AND REALlTY

True, he said; how could they see anything but the shadows if they were never
allowed to move their heads?
And of the objects which are being carried in like manner they would only see the
shadows?
Yes, he said.
And if they were able to converse with one another, would they not suppose that
they were naming what was actually before them?
Very true.
And suppose further that the prison had an echo which came from the other side,
would they not be sure to fancy when one of the passers-by spoke that the voice which
they heard came from the passing shadow?
No question, he replied.
To them, I said, the truth would be literally nothing but the shadows of the images.
That is certain.
And now look again, and see what will naturally follow if the prisoners are released
and disabused of their error. At first, when any of them is liberated and compelled
suddenly to stand up and turn his neck round and walk and look towards the light, he
will suffer sharp pains; the glare will distress him, and he will be unable to see the
realities of which in his former state he had seen the shadows; and then conceive some
one saying to him, that what he saw before was an illusion, but that now, when he is
approaching nearer to being and his eye is turned towards more real existence, he has
a clearer vision, - what will be his reply? And you may further imagine that his
instructor is pointing to the objects as they pass and requiring him to name them, -
will he not be perplexed? Will he not fancy that the shadows which he formerly saw
are truer than the objects which are now shown to him?
Far truer.
And if he is compelled to look straight at the light, will he not have a pain in his
eyes which will make him tum away to take refuge in the objects of vision which he
can see, and which he will conceive to be in reality clearer than the things which are
now being shown to him?
True, he said.
And suppose once more, that he is reluctantly dragged up a steep and rugged
ascent, and held fast until he is forced into the presence of the sun himself, is he not
likely to be pained and irritated? When he approaches the light his eyes will be
dazzled, and he will not be able to see anything at all of what are now called realities.
Not all in a moment, he said.
He will require to grow accustomed to the sight of the upper world. And first he
will see the shadows best, next the reflections of men and other objects in the water,
and then the objects themselves; then he will gaze upon the light of the moon and the
stars and the spangled heaven and he will see the sky and the stars by night better than
the sun or the light of the sun by day?
Certainly.
Last of all he will be able to see the sun, and not mere reflections of him in the
water, but he will see him in his own proper place, and not in another; and he will
contemplate him as he is.
Certainly.
 THE ALLEGORY OP THE CAVE: PLATO 75

He will then proceed to argue that this is he who gives the season and the years, and
is the guardian of all that is in the visible world, and in a certain way the cause of all
things which he and his fellows have been accustomed to behold?
Clearly, he said, he would first see the sun and then reason about him.
And when he remembered his old habitation, and the wisdom of the cave and his
fellow prisoners, do you not suppose that he would felicitate himself on the change,
and pity them?
Certainly, he would.
And if they were in the habit of conferring honours among themselves on those
who were quickest to observe the passing shadows and to remark which of them went
before, and which followed after, and which were together; and who were therefore
best able to draw conclusions as to the future, do you think that he would care for
such honours and glories, or envy the possessors of them? Would he not say with
Homer, 'Better to be the poor servant of a poor master', and to endure anything,
rather than think as they do and live after their manner?
Yes, he said, I think that he would rather suffer anything than entertain these false
notions and live in this miserable manner.
Imagine once more, I said, such a one coming suddenly out of the sun to be
replaced in his old situation; would he not be certain to have his eyes full of darkness?
To be sure, he said.
And if there were a contest, and he had to compete in measuring the shadows with
the prisoners who had never moved out of the cave, while his sight was still weak, and
before his eyes had become steady (and the time which would be needed to acquire
this new habit of sight might be very considerable), would he not be ridiculous? Men
would say of him that up he went and down he came without his eyes; and that it was
better not even to think of ascending; and if any one tried to loose another and lead
him up to the light, let them only catch the offender, and they would put him to
death.
No question, he said.
This entire allegory, I said, you may now append, dear Glaucon, lo the previous
argument; the prison-house is the world of sight, the light of the fire is the sun, and
you will not misapprehend me if you interpret the journey upwards to be the ascent of
the soul into the intellectual world according to my poor belief, which, at your desire,
I have expressed - whether rightly or wrongly God knows. But, whether true or false,
my opinion is that in the world of knowledge the idea of good appears last of all, and
is seen only with an effort; and, when seen, is also inferred to be the universal author
of all things beautiful and right, parent oflight and of the lord oflight in this visible
world, and the immediate source of reason and truth in the intellectual; and that this
is the power upon which he who would act rationally either in public or private life
must have his eye fixed.
I agree, he said, as far as I am able to understand you.
76 BEING AND REALITY

2 Individual Substance: Aristotle, Categories*

Aristotle's approach to the nature of reality is individual man, one and the same, becomes
more robustly down-to-earth than Plato's. He pale at one time and dark at another.' Of course,
accepts the need to identify sQ..meth!!i~~~- not all the properties of an individual can

~~:~i=~=;~go;
essences in the Platonic sense of items with a
reality of their own distinct from particular in-
stances of things. For Aristotle, the ultimate
units of being are individual substances - for
example a particular man, or a particular horse.
Aristotle arrives at this view by linking the
concept of a substance with the grammatical
notion of a subject. In the sentence 'Bucephalus
is strong', Bucephalus (the famous war-horse of
Alexander the Great) is the subject, and 'strong'
the predicate: we may say that strength is predi-
cated of the subject; the quality of strength is to
be found in this horse. The subject, Bucephalus.
by contrast, exists in its own right: it does not
have to exist in something else.
In the extract that follows, Aristotle points out
that 'a substance, numerically one and the same,
is able to receive contraries. For example, an
change: if a horse sprouted horns and chewed
the cud it would cease to be a horse altogether.
So in addition to the accidental or contingent
properties (like being fat, or healthy, or fast or
lame) that may change from day to day, or year
to year, substances have essential characteristics
which make them the kinds of thing they are.
But these universal essences, for Aristotle,
have no independent reality in their own right:
they simply exist in the particular substances
of which they are instances. So while Plato puts
universals higher in the order of being (particu-
lar horses are but pale copies of the Fonn
of Horse), Aristotle reverses the order; it is
individual substances (like a particular horse)
that exist independently; equine properties or
'predicates' (for example, being a quadruped,
having a mane, being strong, and so on) cannot
exist independently, but only in a particular
subject.

m A substance- that which is called a substance most strictly, primarily and most of all -
is that which is neither said of a subject nor in a subject: 1 for example, the individual
man, or the individual horse. The species in which the things primarily called
substances are, are called secondary substances, as also are the genera of these species.
For example, the individual man belong.'> in a species, man, and animal is a genus of
the species; so these - both man and animal - are called secondary substances.
It is dear from what has been said that if something is said of a subject both its
name and its definition are necessarily predicated of the subject. For example, man is
said of a subject, the individual man, and the name is of course predicated (since you
will be predicating man of the individual man), and also the definition of man will be
predicated of the individual man (since the individual man is also a man). Thus both
the name and the definition will be predicated of the subject. But as for things which
are in a subject, in most cases neither the name nor the definition is predicated of the
subject. In some cases there is nothing to prevent the name from being predicated of
the subject, but it is impossible for the definition to be predicated. For example, white,

• Aristotle, Categories [Karegoriai, c.330 uc], ch. S (2al J-4bi9). Trans. J. L. Ackrill (Otlord: Oarendon,
1963), pp. 5-12.
1 'In a subject': in the sentence 'Socrates is bald', the attribute of baldness is in the suhj.ect (Socrates).' Said

of a subject': in the sentence 'Socrates is a man', what is said of Socrates is the species to which he
belongs. Aristotle is about to argue that the individual subject (e.g. Socrates) is the basic or primary
substance. Species and genus (e.g. man, animal) are substances only in a secondary sense, since they
would notexistatallifindividualsdidnot exist.
 INDIVIDUAL SUBSTANCE: All.ISTOTLE 77

which is ina subject (the body), is predicated of the subject; for a body is called white.
But the definition of white will never be predicated of the body.
All the other things are either said of the primary substances as subjects or in them
as subjects. This is dear from an exami nation of cases. For example, animal is
predicated of man and therefore also of the individual man; for were it predicated
of none of the individual men it would not be predicated of man at all. Again, colour
is in body and therefore also in an individual body; for were it not in some individual
body it would not be in body at all. Thus all the other things are either said of the
primary substances as subjects or in them as subjects. So if the primary substances did
not exist it would be impossible for any of the other things to exist.
Of the secondary substances the species is more a substance than the genus, since it
is nearer to the primary substance. For if one is to say of the primary substance what it
is, it wiUbe more informative and apt to give the species than the genus. For example,
it would be more informative to say of the individual man that he is a man than that
he is an animal (since the o ne is more distinctive of the individual man while the
other is more general); and more informative to say of the individual tree that it is a
tree than that it is a plant. Further, it is because the primary substances are subjects for
all the other things and all the other things are predicated of them or are in them, that
they are called substances most of all. But as the primary substances stand to the other
things, so the species stands to the genus: the species is a subject for the genus (for the
genera are predicated of the species but the species are not predicated reciprocally of
the ge nera). Hence for this reason too the species is more a substance than the genus.
But of the species themselves - those which are not genera - one is no more a
substance than another: it is no more apt to say of the individual man that he is a man
than to say of the individual horse that it is a horse. And similarly of the primary
substances one is no more a substance than another: the individual man is no more a
substance than the individual ox.
It is reasonable that, after the primary substances, their species and genera should
be the only other things called (secondary) substances. For only they, of things
predicated, reveal the primary substance. For if one is to say of the individual man
what he is, it will be in place to give the species or the genus (though more
informative to give man than animal); but to give any of the other things would be
out of place - for example, to say 'white' or 'runs' or anything like that. So it is
reasonable that these should be the only other things called substances. Further, it is
because the primary substances are subjects for everything else that they are called
substances most strictly. But as the primary substances stand to everything else, so the
species and genera of the primary substances stand to all the rest: all the rest are
predicated of these. For if you wiU call the individual man grammatical it follows that
you will call both a man and an animal grammatical; and similarly in other cases.
It is a characteristic common to every substance not to be in a subject. For a
primary substance is neither said of a subject nor in a subject. And as for secondary
substances, it is obvious at once that they are not in a subject. For man is said of the
individual man as subject but is not in a subject: man is not i11 the individual man.
Sim ilarly, animal also is said of the individual man as subject but animal is not in the
individual man. Further, while there is nothing to prevent the name of what is in a
subject from being sometimes predicated of the subject, it is impossible for the
definition to be predicated. But the definition of the secondary substances, as well
78 BElNG AND REALITY

as the name, is predicated of the subject: you will predicate the definition of man of
the individual man, and also that of animal. No substance, therefore, is in a subject.
This is not, however, peculiar to substance; the differentia also is not in a subject.
For fqoted and two-footed are said of man as subject but are not in a subject; neither
two-footed nor footed is in man. Moreover, the definition of the differentia is
predicated of that of which the differentia is said. For example, if footed is said of
man the definition of footed will also be predicated of man; for man is footed.
We need not be disturbed by any fear that we may be forced to say that the parts of
a substance, being in a subject (the whole substance), are not substances. For when we
spoke of things in a subject we did not mean things belonging in something as parts.
It is a characteristic of substances and differentiae that all things called from them
are so called synonymously. For all the predicates from them are predicated either of
the individuals or of the species. (For from a primary substance there is no predicate,
since it is said of no subject; and as for secondary substances, the species is predicated
of the individual, the genus both of the species and of the individual. Similarly,
differentiae too are predicated both of the species and of the individuals.) And the
primary substances admit the definition of the species and of the genera, and the
species admits that of the genus; for everything said of what is predicated will be said
of the subject also. Similarly, both the species and the individuals admit the definition
of the differentiae. But synonymous things were precisely those with both the name in
common and the same definition. Hence all the things called from substances and
differentiae are so called synonymously.
Every substance seems to signify a certain 'this'. As regards the primary substances,
it is indisputably true that each of them signifies a certain 'this'; for the thing revealed
is individual and numerically one. But as regards the secondary substances, though it
appears from the form of the name - when one speaks of man or animal - that a
secondary substance likewise signifies a certain 'this', this is not really true; rather, it
signifies a certain qualification, for the subject is not, as the primary substance is, one,
but man and animal are said of many things.
However, it does not signify simply a certain qualification, as white does. White
signifies nothing but a qualification, whereas the species and the genus mark off the
qualification of substance - they signify substance of a certain qualification. (One
draws a wider boundary with the genus than with the species, for in speaking of
animal one takes in more than in speaking of man.)
Another characteristic of substances is that there is nothing contrary to them. For
what would be contrary to a primary substance? For example, there is nothing
contrary to an individual man, nor yet is there anything contrary to man or to
animal. This, however, is not peculiar to substance but holds of many other things
also, for example, of quantity. For there is nothing contrary to four foot or to ten or to
anything of this kind - unless someone were to say that many is contrary to few or
large to small; but still there is nothing contrary to any definite quantity.
Substance, it seems, does not admit of a more and a less. I do not mean that one
substance is not more a substance than another (we have said that it is), but that any
given substance is not called more, or less, that which it is. For example, if this
substance is a man, it will not be more a man or less a man either than itself or than
another man. For one man is not more a man than another, as one pale thing is more
pale than another and one beautiful thing more beautiful than another. Again, a thing
 INDI VIDU A L SU BSTANCE: ARISTOT LE 79

is called more, or less, such-and-such than itself; for example, the body that is pale is
called more pale now than before, and the one that is hot is called more, or less, hot.
Substance, however, is not spoken of thus. For a man is not called more a man now
than before, nor is anything else that is a substance. Thus substance does not admit of
a more and a less.
It seems most distinctive of substance that what is numerically one and the same is
able to receive contraries. In no other case could .one bring forward anything,
numerically one, which is able to receive contraries. For example, a colour which is
numerically one and the same will not be black and white, nor will numerically one
and the same action be bad and good; and similarly with everything else that is not
substance. A substance, however, numerically one and the same, is able to receive
contraries. For example, an individual man - one and the same - becomes pale at one
time and dark at another, and hot and cold, and bad and good. Nothing like this is to
be seen in any other case.
But perhaps someone might object and say that statements and beliefs are like this.
For the same statement seems to be both true and false. Suppose, for example, that the
statement that somebody is sitting is true; after he has got up this same statement will
be false. Similarly with beliefs. Suppose you believe truly that somebody is sitting;
after he has got up you will believe falsely if you hold the same belief about him.
However, even if we were to grant this, there is still a difference in the way contraries
are received. For in the case of substances it is by themselves changing that they are
able to receive contraries. For what has become cold instead of hot, or dark instead of
pale, or good instead of bad, has changed (has altered); similarly in other cases too it
is by itself undergoing change that each thing is able to receive contraries. Statements
and beliefs, on the other hand, themselves remain completely unchangeable in every
way; it is because the actual thing changes that the oontrary comes to belong to them.
For the statement that somebody is sitting remains the same; it is because of a change
in the actual thing that it comes to be true at one time and false at another. Similarly
with beliefs. Hence at least the way in which it is able to receive contraries- through a
change in itself - would be distinctive of substance, even if we were to grant that
beliefs and statements are able to receive contraries. However, this is not true. For it is
not because they themselves receive anything that statements and beliefs are said to be
able t<r receive contraries, but because of what has happened to something else. For it
is because the actual thing exists or does not exist that the statement is said to be true
or false, not because it is able itself to receive contraries. No statement or belief is
changed at all by anything. So since nothing happens in them, they are not able to
receive contraries. A substance, on the other hand, is said to be able to receive
contraries, because it itself receives contraries. For it receives sickness and health,
and paleness and darkness; and because it itself receives the various things of this kind
it is said to be able to receive contraries. It is, therefore, distinctive of substance that
what is numerically one and the same is able to receive contraries. This brings to an
end our discussion of substance.