THE ANALOGY THEORY
E. L. MASCALL
Analogy
Is it possible, we therefore ask,
for statements expressed in human language to
mean anything when made about God-that is to say, are theological statements meaningful or meaningless? (The relevance of
this discussion to the questions
raised by the logical positivists will be immediately clear to those who have any acquaintance with their works.)
Starting from a famous distinction
made by Aristotle,[1] we remark
that, even within the realm of discourse about finite beings, one and
the same word, when applied to two things, sometimes bears the same
sense in both applications and sometimes different ones. In the former case it is used univocally (sunοnΰμωζ), as when Carlo and
Fido are both called dogs. Even if Carlo is a great Dane and Fido a Pomeranian,
we mean the same thing about each of them when we call them both
dogs; the characteristics in each that distinguish Carlo as a Dane 
from Fido as a
Pomeranian, while they cannot be found in their totality except in dogs, are additional to caninity as
such. But sometimes we use words
purely equivocally (όμωnμωζ), as when we apply the word
"mug" both to a drinking utensil and to. the victim of a fraud. (The
neglect of this distinction can lead to unfortunate consequences, as the
choirboys found who were starting
a cricket team, when they asked the vicar for one of the bats which the verger had led them to believe were in the
belfry.) But in addition to these two
uses, it is alleged, a word is sometimes applied to two objects in senses that are neither wholly different nor yet
wholly the same, as when we say that
Mr. Jones and Skegness are both healthy, the former because he enjoys, and
the latter because it induces, health; in this case we are said to use the term "healthy" analogically (άnάλογωζ).
At first sight the
introduction of this mode of predication might seem to be unnecessary and
trivial, and certainly Aristotle did not accord to it anything like as much attention as the scholastics do. We might be tempted to suppose that analogy is only a dignified kind of univocity,
and that it is quite sufficient to say that the healthiness of
Mr. Jones and the healthiness of Skegness are merely two ways of being healthy,
just as the Danishness of Carlo and the Pomeranianity of Fido are merely
two ways of being canine. Or, alternatively, we might go to the other extreme
and say that analogy is only equivocity
in sheep's clothing, that to enjoy health and to induce health are two altogether different activities and that only for the sake of economy
in words can there be any justification for using the same
term "healthy" tout court to denote them both. Furthermore, it
might be asked, even if we admit this tertium quid of analogy, can we ever be quite sure when it applies? When we say that Mr.
Jones is alive and that an oyster is alive, is the difference between the life of Mr. Jones and the life of the oyster something additional to a quality, namely life, which is found univocally in both, as
the Danishness of Carlo and the Pomeranianity of Fido are additional to their common caninity? Or, on the other hand, is the life which is
attributed to Mr. Jones and to the oyster, as the
scholastics would say, an analogical perfection, contracted
to each subject not by external differentiae but by different internal modes of participation? Can
one possibly settle this kind of question? Can we even give the
distinction any real meaning?
Now, so
long as we are merely considering qualities and properties of finite beings, the introduction of analogical discourse,
in addition to univocal and
equivocal, might well appear to be an unnecessary and artificial complication.
There are, however, two instances in which it-or something like itseems to be
unavoidable, namely when we are discussing transcendentals and when we are discussing God. And it is worth noting
that, in Christian thought, it is precisely the necessity of talking
about God that has given rise to the great
development which the doctrine of analogy has undergone. Let us consider
these instances in order.
The
transcendentals, in scholastic thought, are those six primary notions ens, res, unum, aliquid, verum and bonum-which, because of their very universality, refuse to fall in any of the Aristotelian categories, but cut
across them all.[2] The last five ultimately reduce to the first, so it Will be sufficient to consider that. What,
then, is meant by the analogy of being? Why is it denied that being is univocal? Simply because there is nothing outside
being by which it could be differentiated. When we say that
Carlo and Fido are both dogs,
the word "dog" means precisely the same when applied to each of them; the differences that distinguish them as dogs are, as we have seen, extrinsic to caninity as such. But when we say
that Carlo and Fido are both beings, the differences that distinguish them as beings
cannot be extrinsic to being as such, for being, in its altogether universal
reference, must embrace everything,
including differences; if differences were not instances of being, they would be non-existent, and then no two things
could be distinct from each other. So
the scholastics tell us, being is not a genus,[3] since there is nothing outside it which could act as a differentia to
it, to subdivide it into species;
nevertheless everything is an instance of being, and being is differentiated by its own inherent analogical variety. To
be is to be in a certain way, and the way is the very heart of the being. So
the whole order of beings, of entia, from
the triune Deity down to the speck of dust and the electron, consists of nothing more and nothing less than
analogical instances of being: self-existent being and dependent being, actual
being and possible being, substantial
being and accidental being, real being and notional being, not in any pantheistic or monistic sense, as if being were
some kind of cosmic material, a metaphysical modelling-clay
appearing now in this shape and now in that, but
in the far more profound sense that every being must be, and must
be in some determinate way, and-the
theist will add-in the sense that the way in which it has being depends in the last resort upon its relation to the
self-existent Being which is the
prime analogate of all.
Now what is
true about beings as such in their relation to one another must be true a fortiori about
finite beings in their relation to the God who is self-existent Being. If being is not a genus, then
the. supreme Being transcends all
genera, and the principle of analogy, which we have seen applies even between creatures when they are considered as
they participate in the transcendentals,
will apply with even greater force when creatures are brought into comparison with the altogether transcendent God and when God is spoken
about in words whose meaning is derived from their application to finite things. Here, if anywhere, the distinction between the perfectio significata and the modus significandi will hold; here, if anywhere, will the classical definition of analogy apply, namely that
it is the application of a concept to
different beings in ways that are simply diverse from each other and are only the same in a certain respect, simpliciter diversa et eadem secundum quid.[4] It is noticeable that
Let us now proceed to consider in more
detail this classical doctrine of analogy. The precise classification of
the various types of analogy that can be distinguished
is to this day a matter of considerable controversy; the method that I shall adopt will, however, bring out the
salient points.
II
In the first place,
we may distinguish between analogy duorum ad tertium and analogy unius ad alterum;
this is the fundamental distinction
made by
This type of analogy can, however, have
little or no application to the case where we are
attributing the same predicate to God and to a creature, for there is no being antecedent to God to whom the predicate can apply more formally and properly than it applies to him. We therefore pass to the
other type of analogy, analogy unius ad alterum, which is founded not upon diverse relations which each of the analogates
bears to a third, but upon a relation which
one of them bears to the other. And this type of analogy itself subdivides
into two.
The former of these sub-types is that
which is known as analogy of attribution or
of proportion, analogy unius ad alterum in the strict sense. In this case the predicate belongs formally and properly
to one of the analogates (which is
thus not merely an analogate but is the prime analogate),
and only relatively and derivatively
to the other. Thus it is by an analogy of attribution or proportion that Mr. Jones and his complexion
are both described as healthy; health is found formally and properly in Mr.
Jones, and his complexion is
described as healthy only because it bears a certain relation to his health, namely the relation of being a sign of it.
In its theological application, where
the analogates concerned are God and a creature, the relation upon which the analogy is based will be that of creative
causality; creatures are related to God as his effects, by all those modes of
participation by the creature in the
perfection of its creator which are indicated, for example, by the Thomist Five Ways. Thus when we say that God
and Mr. Jones are both good or that
they are both beings, remembering that the content which the word
"good" or "being" has for us is derived from our experience
of the goodness and the being of creatures, we are, so far as analogy of
attribution is concerned, saying no more
than that God has goodness or being in whatever way is necessary if he is to be able to produce goodness and being
in his creatures. This would not seem
necessarily to indicate anything more than that the perfections which are found formally in various finite modes in
creatures exist virtually in God, that is to say, that he is able to
produce them in the creatures; it
does not seem to necessitate that God possesses them formally himself. (In the case of Mr. Jones, of
course, his complexion did indicate his formal possession of health, but
there is, literally, all the difference in the
world between the relation between two analogates in the finite realm and that
between God and a creature.) Analogy of attribution certainly does not exclude the formal possession of the
perfections by God, but it does not
itself ascribe it to him. The mode in which the perfection which exists
in the secondary analogate also exists in the prime analogate will depend on the relation between them; and if this
relation is merely that the latter
analogate is the cause of the former, the possession by the latter of a perfection that exists formally in the former will
not, so far as the present mode of
analogy is concerned, be necessarily anything more than a virtual one. Creatures are good (formally but finitely),
God is the cause of them and of all
that they have, therefore the word "good" applied to God need not mean any more than that he is able to produce
goodness.[7] It is at this point that the second sub-type of analogy comes to the rescue.
This is analogy of
proportionality, also called analogy plurium ad plura. In it there is a direct relation of the mode in which a
perfection is participated to the being by which it is
participated, independently of any relation to a prime analogate. (There may be a prime analogate,
and indeed some would maintain that there must be,[8] but it does not come in at this stage.) A spurious, though sometimes useful, form of this type of analogy is metaphor, in which there is not a formal participation of the same
characteristic in the different analogates but only a
similarity of effects. Thus, to take a classic example, the
lion is called the king of the beasts because he bears to savage animals a relation similar to that which a king bears to his subjects, but
no one would assert that kingship is to be found formally in
the lion. Again, God is described as being
angry, because his relation to the punishments which he imposes is similar to that which an angry man has to the
injuries which he inflicts, but no
one (at least, no scholastic philosopher) would say that anger was to be found formally in Gods.[9] In the strict sense, an analogy of proportionality implies that the analogue under
discussion is found formally in each of the analogates
but in a mode that is determined by the nature of the analogate itself. Thus, assuming
that life is an analogous and not a
univocal concept, it is asserted that cabbages, elephants, men and God each possess
life formally (that is each of them is, quite literally and unmetaphorically, alive), but that the cabbage possesses life in the mode proper
to a cabbage, the elephant in that
proper to an elephant, the man in that proper to a man, and finally God in that supreme, and by us unimaginable, mode proper
to self-existent Being itself. This is commonly expressed in the following quasi-mathematical form, from which, in fact,
the name "analogy of proportionality"
is derived:[10]
= 
=
= 
We must, however,
beware of interpreting the equal sign too literally. For the point is not that
the life of the cabbage is determined by the essence of the cabbage in the same way as that in which
the life of the man is determined by the essence of the man,
but that the way in which cabbage essence determines cabbage
life is proper to cabbagehood, while the way in which
the human essence determines human life is proper to
manhood….
Such
a reply would, I think, go a very long way, though I am doubtful whether it is altogether
sufficient. For the fact remains that we have denied that our equal signs really stand for equality and we have not indicated
anything definite that they do stand
for. Can we in some way re-establish this bond that we have broken?
Clearly we cannot by analogy of proportionality, but I shall suggest that we can by analogy of attribution, and that the
two types of analogy, while either in separation is insufficient, can in
combination do what is required.3ut this is
an anticipation. I will pass on now to consider the second
objection, which is specially concerned with analogical discourse about God.
III
Let us therefore see
what happens when we attribute life both to a creature and to God; any other perfection which can be formally predicated of God would, of course,
do as well. Analogy of proportionality asserts:
=
Now, the objector
urges, even if the first objection has been successfully overcome, so that we have no longer to bother about the fact that the equal
sign does not indicate an exact identity of relationship, our
formula will not in fact tell us in what sense life is to
be predicated of God. For the essence of God is as little
known to us as is his life; indeed his life is, formally considered, identical with it. Our equation has therefore two unknowns and cannot be solved. Nor can we get out of our difficulty by comparing essence
with existence and saying that the essence of a being will
correspond to, and be determined by, the act in virtue of which it exists:
= 
Once again, both the
terms on the right-hand side are unknown. Sheer agnosticism
seems to e the outcome. What reply can we make?
Some scholastic
philosophers, of whom Garrigou-Lagrange is one, claim
to answer this objection, while remaining in the realm of
analogy of proportionality, by denying that there are two
unknown terms on the right-hand side. This
last-mentioned writer, for example, taking the analogy
= 
asserts that only
the fourth term is in fact unknown. "We have," he says, "(1) the very confused concept of being in general, which a child possesses from the moment of its first
intellectual knowledge, (2) the concept of finite being, of which we know positively the finite mode and which is nothing else than the essence of the things that we see, stones,
plants, animals, etc., (3) the concept of analogous being, imperfectly abstracted from the finite mode ... ; it
is a precision of the first very confused concept possessed by the child, and the metaphysician acquires it by
recognizing that the formal notion
of being does not in itself include the finite mode which accompanies it in the creature, (4) the concept o f the divine being, the cause
of created beings. These
latter," he continues, "not having in their essence the reason of their existence, require a cause which exists of
itself. In the concept of the divine
being, the divine mode is expressed only in a negative and relative way, e.g. as non-finite or as supreme being. What
is positive in this analogical knowledge
of God is what God has that is proportionally common to him and the creature." 18 Again, he writes, "being designates that which has relation to existence;
this relation is implied in the very nature of that which exists and it is essentially varied according as
it is necessary or contingent. The
created essence in its inmost entity is altogether relative to its contingent existence, which it can lose; the uncreated
essence is conceived only relatively to
that necessary existence with which it is identified. . . . Analogous perfections are thus not pure relations. They are
perfections which imply in the creature
a composition of two correlative elements, potentiality and act, but which in God are pure act. Our intelligence
conceives that they are realized more fully according as they are
purified of all potentiality; in God they exist therefore in the pure state. We thus see that there are not two unknowns
in the proportionalities set up by
theology."19
For this
distinguished French Dominican, therefore, the third term in the formula is given us as that in which essence and existence are identical,
and this gives us a limited and analogical, but nevertheless genuine, knowledge
of the fourth term, while remaining within
the realm of analogy of proportionality.
We
can transfer the notion of any perfection from a finite being to God,
remembering that the difference of mode is that which corresponds to the difference between a being whose essence
involves merely a possibility of
existence and one whose essence involves existence of necessity. Of course, we do not know positively what the mode of the
perfection in God is; to demand that would be to demand a quidditative
knowledge of the divine essence and
to abolish analogy altogether in favour of univocity. We are given
all that we have a right to ask for; the comparison of the finite and the infinite modes of perfection is based on a
comparison of the relations to existence
which are proper to finite essence and to the divine essence respectively.
Now all this seems
very satisfactory so far as it goes, but does it go far enough? Is it sufficient simply to base the comparison of the finite and infinite modes of a perfection upon a comparison of the finite and infinite
modes
of the essence-existence relation, without bringing in an explicit reference to the concrete relation which the creature
has to God? There are indeed traces in
Garrigou-Lagrange's own discussion of an awareness of
the need of this further step; the
very form in which he writes the formula last quoted suggests this. For he does not describe the finite
being as a being in whom essence does not necessarily involve existence, but as
a "creature"; and he does
not describe God as a being whose essence necessarily involves existence, but as the "first cause." "In these
equations," he writes, "two created terms are known directly, one uncreated
term is known indirectly by way o f causality and we infer the fourth term
which is known indirectly in a positive manner
as regards what is analogically
common with creatures and in a negative and relative manner as regards
its proper divine mode." And the first cause and the creature are
directly related by the relation of creation, which thus, as it were, cuts horizontally
across the analogy of proportionality with an analogy of attribution.22 The
equal sign does not, as we have seen earlier, express a mathematical identity, but, on the other hand, the two sides of the formula
are not left in complete separation. They are bound together by an analogy of attribution unius ad alterum, of the creature to God in the case which we have just
been considering. In the cases considered earlier, where the two sides of the formula both refer to finite beings, the linking analogy is an
analogy duorum ad tertium, which holds in view of the fact that each of the analogates is in an analogy of attribution unius ad alterum, of itself to God. The figure below may help to make this
plain.
The
conclusion would thus seem to be that, in order to make the doctrine of analogy really satisfactory,
we must see the analogical relation between God and the world as combining in a
tightly interlocked union both analogy of
attribution and analogy of proportionality. Without analogy of proportionality
it is very doubtful whether the attributes which we predicate of God can be ascribed to him in more than a merely
virtual sense; without analogy of
attribution it hardly seems possible to avoid agnosticism. Which of the two
forms of analogy is prior to the other has been, and still is, a hotly debated question among scholastic philosophers.
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