R
Richca
Guest
I like your image of the fountain. The substance is nearest to the act of being. Indeed, the act of being is the act of the substance from which follows the accidents and their acts. You place the accident of action as like the water that trickles out of the fountain. I see what your saying as the more derived accidents are further from the act of being and the substance. However, I have a few considerations. St Thomas says that operation is the end and perfection of the creature. Operation is the act of a power and if I’m not mistaken the act of a power is in the category of action. Action is twofold: transient and immanent. As an example, charity is the perfection of the christian life and it involves the love of God and neighbor. Love is an act of the will, an operation of the will. My point is, is that if operation is the end and perfection of the creature and this involves the accident of action, can we legitimately say it is like water that trickles out of the fountain? Just a thought. Maybe a good answer to this consideration of mine which would do justice to your fountain image is that it is not just the power or will that loves, but the whole man/woman that loves.Between being and non-being there is no proportion (because non-being is what Thomas would call an ens rationis: something that “exists” only in our minds).
However, there is a proportion among beings. I respectfully disagree with Linus2nd if he says that some kinds of accidents are non-beings.
According to Aquinas, beings (entia) display a two-fold hierarchy: a “vertical” one (angels are more perfect beings than men, who are more perfect than animals, and so on); and a “horizontal” one (substance is more of a being than a quality, which is more of a being than an an action or passion, which is more of a being than a relation).
A good image is a light with a dimmer switch: there is a sharp distinction between the light being on or off; but assuming that the light is on, there are a lot of possible degrees of brightness.
An even better image, for the purposes of a substance and its inherent accidents, is a fountain: the “substance” is like the fountain itself. Its act of being is like the well or other store of water that is its source. The qualities and quantity, which are “proximate” to the substance, are like the water that bursts out at high pressure. The other, more derived accidents (action, passion, and the various relations) are like the water that trickles out of the fountain. It is all water (being), but some of it (i.e., the substance) participates more fully in the source (the act of being) than other parts (the accidents). And even among accidents, some participate more fully than others.