Commentary Aristotle Physics
Lecture 4. The senses of “in”
The next step we must take is to see in how many senses one thing is said to be “in” another.
In one way, as the finger is “in” the hand and generally the part “in” the whole.
In another way, as the whole is “in” the parts: for there is no whole over and above the parts.
In another way, as man is “in” animal and generally species “in” genus.
In another way, as the genus is “in” the species, and generally the part of the specific form “in” the definition of the specific form.
In another way, as health is “in” the hot and the cold, and generally the form “in” the matter.
In another way, as the affairs of Greece center “in” the king, and generally events center “in” their primary motive agent.
In another way, as the existence of a thing centers “in” its good, and generally “in” its end, that is, in that for the sake of which it exists.
In the strictest sense of all, as a thing is “in” a vessel, and generally “in” place.
One might raise the question whether a thing can be in itself, or whether nothing can be in itself—everything being either nowhere or in something else.
The question is ambiguous; we may mean the thing primarily and per se or in relation to something else. When there are parts of a whole—that in which something exists, and that which is in this—the whole will be described as being in itself.
For a thing is described in terms of its parts, as well as in terms of the thing as a whole—for instance, a man is said to be white because the visible surface of him is white, or to be scientific because his thinking faculty has been trained. The jar, then, will not be in itself and the wine will not be in itself. But the jar of wine will: for the contents and the container are both parts of the same whole.
In this sense, then, but not primarily, a thing can be in itself, as white is in body (for the surface is in body) and science is in the mind. It is from these, which are “parts” (in the sense at least of being “in” the man), that the man is called white, and so on. But the jar and the wine in separation are not parts of a whole, though together they are.
So, when there are parts, a thing will be in itself, as white is in man because it is in body, and in body because it resides in the visible surface.
We cannot go further and say that it is in surface in virtue of something other than itself. They differ in essence, each having a special nature and capacity, “surface” and “white.”
Thus, if we look at the matter inductively, we find that nothing is primarily “in” itself in any of the senses that have been distinguished.
It can be seen by argument that it is impossible. For each of two things will have to be both—for instance, the jar will have to be both vessel and wine, and the wine both wine and jar, if it is possible for a thing to be in itself; such that, however true it might be that they were in each other, the jar will receive the wine in virtue not of its being wine, but of the wine’s being wine, and the wine will be in the jar in virtue not of its being a jar, but of the jar’s being a jar.
Now, that they are different in respect of their essence is evident, for “that in which something is” and “that which is in it” would be differently defined.
Nor is it possible for a thing to be in itself even accidentally: for two things would at the same time be in the same thing. The jar would be in itself (if a thing whose nature it is to receive can be in itself), and that which it receives, such as wine, will be in it. Obviously, then, a thing cannot be in itself primarily.
Zeno’s problem—that, if place is something, it must be in something—is not difficult to solve. There is nothing to prevent the first place from being “in” something else—not, indeed, in that as “in” place, but as health is in the hot as a habit or as the hot is in body as a passion. So we escape the infinite regress.
Another thing is plain: since the vessel is no part of what is in it (what contains in the strict sense is different from what is contained), place could be neither the matter nor the form of the thing contained, but must be different—for the latter, both the matter and the form, are parts of what is contained. This, then, may serve as a critical statement of the difficulties involved.
434. After inquiring dialectically into the existence and nature of place, the Philosopher now proceeds to the task of determining the truth.
First, he lays down certain things necessary to the consideration of the truth;
second, he determines the truth, at “what, then, after all” (210b34222; [445]).
As to the first, he does three things:
first, he points out the ways in which one thing is said to be in another;
second, he asks whether anything can be in itself, at “one might raise the question” (210a25; [437]);
third, he settles some difficulties previously raised, at “Zeno’s problem” (210b22; [443]).
435. He lists (210a14) eight ways in which something is said to be in something.
The first of these is the way in which a finger is said to be in the hand and in general how any part is in its whole.
The second way is as the whole is said to be in the parts. And because this way is not so customary as the first, he explains it by adding that the whole is not something outside the parts, and thus must be understood as existing in the parts.
The third way is as “man” is said to be in “animal,” and any species in its genus.
The fourth way is as the genus is said to be in the species. And lest this way seem out of place, he gives a reason for mentioning it: the genus is part of the definition of the species, as is the difference. Hence, both the genus and the difference are said to be in the species in some way as parts in the whole.
The fifth way is as health is said to be in hot and cold things, the balance between which constitutes health, and in general as any other form is in matter or a subject, whether it be an accidental or a substantial form.
The sixth way is as the affairs of the Greeks are said to exist in the king of Greece, and generally as everything that is moved is in the first mover. According to this way, I can say that something is in me because it is in my power to do it.
In the seventh way, something is said to be in something as in something supremely loveable and desirable, and generally as in an end. In this way, someone’s heart is said to be in what he desires and loves.
Finally, in an eighth way, something is said to be in something as in a vessel, and in general as a thing in place is in its place.
He seems to have skipped the way in which something is in something as in time. But this is reduced to the eighth way. For just as place is the measure of the mobile thing, so time is the measure of motion.
436. Then he says that it is according to the eighth way that something is most properly said to be in something. Hence, according to the rule given in Metaphysics 4 and 5, all the other modes must somehow be reduced to this eighth way, according to which something is in something as in a place. This is done in the following way. The thing in place is contained or included by its place and has rest and immobility in its place. Therefore, the way closest to this one is that in which a part is said to be in the integral whole in which it is actually included. Accordingly, it will be said below that a thing in place is as a separated part, and a part as a conjoined thing in place. The whole that is according to reason is like this whole; hence it is said that what is in the account of something is in it, as animal in man.
Now, just as it happens that the part of an integral whole is enclosed in a whole according to act, so the part of a universal whole is enclosed in a whole according to potency, for the genus extends to more things potentially than the species does, although the species may have more elements in act.
Consequently, species is also said to be in the genus. And, because form is contained in the potency of matter just as the species is contained in the potency of the genus, so it is further said that form is in the matter. And, because the whole has the account of form in relation to the parts, as was said in book 2, the whole is consequently also said to be in the parts.
But, just as form is enclosed under the passive potency of matter, so the effect is enclosed under the active potency of the agent. Hence it is that something is said to be in a first mover. Then it is clear that the appetite rests in the good it desires and loves it, and is, indeed, fixed in it, just as the thing in place is fixed in place. Hence, the passion of the lover is said to be in the thing loved. And thus it is evident that all the other ways are derived from the last, which is the most proper.
437. Then, at “one might raise the question” (210a25), he asks whether anything can be in itself, for Anaxagoras said above that the infinite exists in itself. Therefore, he first raises the question of whether one and the same thing can be in itself, or whether nothing can, but all things either never are or are in something else.
438. Second, at “the question is ambiguous” (210a26), he answers this:
first, he shows how something can be in itself;
second, how it cannot, at “in this sense, then” (210a33; [439]).
He says first (210a26) that something may be understood to be in itself in two ways:
in one way, primarily and per se;
in another way, in relation to something else, that is, in relation to a part.
And it is in this second way that something may be said to be in itself. For when two parts of some whole are so related that one part is that in which the other exists and the other is that which is in the first, it follows that the whole is both that in which something exists (by reason of one part) and that which is in this (by reason of the other), and thus is the whole said to be in itself. For we observe that something is said of something according to a part, for example, someone is called “white” because his surface is white, and a man is called “knowing” because science is in his rational part.
If, therefore, we take a jug full of wine as a certain whole whose parts are jug and wine, neither of the parts will exist in itself; that is, neither the jug nor the wine will be in itself, but rather this whole, which is a jug of wine, inasmuch as each is a part of it, namely, both the wine that is in the jug and the jug in which the wine is. It is in this way, therefore, that one and the same thing can be in itself.
439. Then, at “in this sense, then” (210a33), he shows that nothing can be primarily in itself.
First, he proposes what he intends, distinguishing both the way in which something is in itself and the way in which it is not;
second, he proves his proposition, at “thus, if we look” (210b8; [440]).
He says, therefore, that there is no case of anything being primarily in itself.
And he makes clear what it is for something to be primarily in itself by citing an example of the opposite. For something white is said to be in a body because the surface is in the body: hence, the white is not primarily in the body, but in the surface. In like manner, science is said to be primarily in the soul, and not in the man, in whom science exists by reason of the soul.
And it is according to this (that is, according to the soul and the surface) that the appellations whereby a man is called “white” or “knowing” are applied, since the soul and the surface are as parts of man—not that the surface is a part, but it is like a part, inasmuch as it is something of the man as the boundary of his body. Now, if wine and jug are taken as separated one from the other, they are not parts; hence, it belongs to neither of them to exist in itself.
But, when they are together (as when a jug is full of wine), then, as was explained above, the same thing will be existing in itself not primarily, but through its parts (because jug and wine are both parts), just as white is not primarily in the man, but is there through the body, and in the body through the surface. But it is not in the surface through anything else; hence it is said to be in the surface primarily. Nor is that in which something exists primarily the same as that which is in it, as in the case of white and surface. For surface and white are specifically different, and the nature and potency of each is different.
440. Then, at “thus, if we look” (210b8), having pointed out the difference between being primarily in something and not being primarily in something, he now shows that nothing is primarily “in” itself.
First, he shows that nothing is primarily in itself per se;
second, per accidens, at “nor is it possible” (210b18; [442]).
And he explains the first point in two ways: inductively and with an argument.
He says first that, by considering inductively all the ways determined above in which something is said to be in itself, it is found that nothing exists in itself primarily and per se, for nothing is the totality of itself, neither as part nor as genus, and so on. He posits this by concluding from what has gone before, for just as it is clear in the case of the white and of the surface (which are related as form and matter) that they differ both in species and in power, the same thing can be considered in all the other ways.
441. Then, at “it can be seen by argument” (210b9), he proves the same thing with an argument and says that it is clear by reasoning that it is impossible for anything to be primarily and per se in itself. For if there be anything like this, then the same thing, and in the same way, will necessarily have the accounts both of that in which something is and of that which is in it. Hence, each would have to be both the container and the content: for example, the jug would be the vessel and the wine, and the wine both the wine and jug, if something could be primarily and per se in itself.
Now, on this assumption (namely, that the wine is both the jug and wine, and the jug both wine and jug), if anyone were to say that either is in the other—for example, that the wine is in the jug—it would follow that the wine is received into the jug not inasmuch as it is wine, but inasmuch as wine is the jug. Therefore, if to be in the jug primarily and per se is a property of the jug (on the assumption that something is primarily and per se in itself), it follows that nothing can be said to be in the jug except inasmuch as that something is the jug. And so, if the wine is said to be in the jug, it follows that to be in the jug belongs to the wine not inasmuch as it is wine, but inasmuch as the wine is the jug. For the same reason, if the jug receives the wine, it will receive it not inasmuch as the jug is jug, but inasmuch as the jug is wine. Now, this is unacceptable. Hence, it is clear that it is under different accounts that something is that in which and that which is in. For it is one thing to be that which is in something, and another to be that in which something is. Consequently, nothing can be primarily and per se in itself.
442. Then, at “nor is it possible” (210b18), he shows that nothing exists primarily in itself even according to accident. For something is said to be in something according to accident when it is in it on account of something else existing in it—for example, when we say that a man is in the sea because he is in a boat that is in the sea, he is nevertheless said to be in the boat primarily, that is, not according to a part. If, therefore, something could be in itself primarily, though not per se but per accidens, it would be in itself on account of something else being in it. And so it follows that two bodies are in the same thing: the body that is in something and that same thing as existing in itself. In this way, a jug will be in itself per accidens if the jug itself, whose nature it is to receive something, is in itself along with that which it receives, namely, the wine. Therefore, both jug and wine will exist in the jug, if it follows that the jug is in itself because the wine is in the jug; thus two bodies would be in the same place. Consequently, it is clearly impossible for anything to be primarily in itself.
Notice, however, that sometimes something is said to be in itself not according to an affirmation but according to a negation, inasmuch as to be in itself signifies nothing more than not being in something else.
443. Then, at “Zeno’s problem” (210b22), he settles certain doubts. First, he destroys Zeno’s reason that was appealed to as proof that place does not exist on the assumption that, if it did, it must exist in something else and so on to infinity. But this, as he says, is not difficult to answer after one knows the various ways in which something is said to be in something else. For there is nothing to prevent our saying that place is in something: while it is not in something as in a place, it is in something in some other way, as form is in matter or an accident in a subject, inasmuch as place is a boundary of the container. And this is what he adds: as health is in the hot as a habit, and heat is in a body as a passion, or accident. Hence, it is not necessary to proceed to infinity.
444. Then, at “another thing is plain” (210b27), he also settles the doubts mentioned above about the nature of place (namely, whether it be form or matter) by appealing to his proof that nothing exists in itself primarily and per se. For it is clear from this proof that nothing can be the vessel or place of that which is contained in it after the manner of a part such as matter or form is, for that which is in something and that in which something is must be primarily and per se distinct, as we have shown. Hence, it follows that neither form nor matter is place; rather, place is something entirely different from the thing in place, while matter and form belong to the thing in place as intrinsic parts of it.
Finally, he concludes that the things said above about place were said as contesting it. Some of these oppositions have now been solved; others will be solved after the nature of place is manifested.