Brown Book: Difference between revisions

{{parBB|3}} Let us introduce a new instrument of communication, – – a proper name. This is given to a particular object (a particular building stone) by pointing to it and pronouncing the name. If A calls the name, B brings the object. The demonstrative teaching of a proper name is different again from the demonstrative teaching in the cases 1) & 2).

– – “What does the word ‘exactness’ mean? Is it real exactness if you are supposed to come to tea at 4.30 and come when a good clock strikes 4.30? Or would it only be exactness if you began to open the door at the moment the clock begins to strike? But how is this moment to be defined and how is “beginning to open the door” to be defined? Would it be correct to say, ‘It is difficult to say what real exactness is, for all we know is only rough approximations’?”)

In 1) B learnt to bring a building stone on hearing the word “column!” called out. We could imagine what happened in such a case to be this: In B's mind the word called out brought up an image of a column, say; the training had, as we should say, established this association. B takes up that building stone which conforms to his image. – But was this ''necessarily'' what happened? If the training could bring it about that the idea or image – – automatically – – arose in B's mind, why shouldn't it bring about B's ''actions'' without the intervention of an image?

{{parBB|31}} Another tribe. Its language is like that in 30). The highest numeral observed in use is 159. In the life of this tribe the numeral 159 plays a peculiar role. Supposing I said, “They treat this number as their highest”, – – but what does this mean? Could we answer: “They just say that it is the highest”? – They say certain words, but how do we know what they mean by them? A criterion for what they mean would be the occasions {{BBB TS reference|Ts-310,27}} on which the word we are inclined to translate into our word “highest” is used, the role, we might say, which we observe this word to play in the life of the tribe. In fact we could easily imagine the numeral 159 to be used on such occasions, in connection with such gestures and forms of behaviour as would make us say that this numeral plays the role of an unsurmountable limit, even if the tribe had no word corresponding to our “highest”, and the criteria for numeral 159 being the highest numeral did not consist of anything that was ''said'' about the numeral.

It is an important remark concerning this example and others which we give that one may object to the description which we give of the language of a tribe, that in the specimens we give of their language we let them speak English, thereby already presupposing the whole background of the English language, that is, our usual meanings of the words. Thus if I say that in a certain language there is no special verb for “skipping”, but that this language uses instead the form “making {{BBB TS reference|Ts-310,40}} the test for throwing the boomerang”, one may ask how I have characterized the use of the expressions, “make a test for” & “throwing the boomerang”, to be justified in substituting these English expressions for whatever their actual words may be. To this we must answer that we have only given a very sketchy description of the practices of our fictitious languages, in some cases only hints, but that one can easily make these descriptions more complete. Thus in 48) I could have said that the examiner uses orders for making the men go through the tests. These orders all begin with one particular expression which I could translate into the English words, “Go through the test”. And this expression is followed by one which in actual warfare is used for certain actions. Thus there is a command upon which men throw their boomerangs and which therefore I should translate into, “Throw the boomerangs”. Further, if a man gives an account of the battle to his chief, he again uses the expression I have translated into “Throw a boomerang”, this time in a description. Now what characterizes an order as such or a description as such or a question as such, etc., is – – as we have said – – the role which the utterance of these signs plays in the whole practice of the language. That is to say, whether a word of the language of our tribe is rightly translated into a word of the English language depends upon the role this word plays in the whole life of the tribe; the occasions on which it is used, the expressions of emotions by which it is generally accompanied, the ideas which it generally awakens or which prompt its saying, etc. etc. As an exercise ask yourself: in which {{BBB TS reference|Ts-310,41}} cases would you say that a certain word uttered by the people of the tribe was a greeting? In which cases should we say it corresponded to our “Goodbye”, in which to our “Hello”? In which cases would you say that a word of a foreign language corresponded to our “perhaps”? – – to our expressions of doubt, trust, certainty? You will find that the justifications for calling something an expression of doubt, conviction, etc. largely, though of course not wholly, consist in descriptions of gestures, the play of facial expressions, and even the tone of voice. Remember at this point that the personal experiences of an emotion must in part be strictly localized experiences; for if I frown in anger I feel the muscular tension of the frown in my forehead, & if I weep, the sensations around my eyes are obviously part, and an important part, of what I feel. This is, I think, what William James meant when he said that a man doesn't cry because he is sad but that he is sad because he cries. The reason why this point is often not understood is that we think of the utterance of an emotion as though it were some artificial device to let others know that we have it. Now there is no sharp line between such “artificial devices” and what one might call the natural expressions of emotion. Cf. in this respect: ''a'') weeping, ''b'') raising one's voice when one is angry, ''c'') writing an angry letter, ''d'') ringing the bell for a servant you wish to scold.

By the way, have the two phrases, “He has done so-&-so” and “He can do so-&-so” the same meaning in this language or have they different meanings? If you think about it, something {{BBB TS reference|Ts-310,43}} will tempt you to say the one, something to say the other. This only shows that the question has here no clearly defined meaning. All I can say is: If the fact that they only say, “He can … ” if he has done … is your criterion for the same meaning, then the two expressions have the same meaning. If the circumstances under which an expression is used make its meaning, the meanings are different. The use which is made of the word “can” – – the expression of possibility in 49) – – can throw a light upon the idea that what can happen must have happened before (Nietzsche). It will also be interesting to look, in the light of our examples, on the statement that what happens can happen.

{{parBB|54}} If we give a person the order, “Say a number, any one which comes into your mind”, he can generally comply with it at once. Suppose it were found that the numbers thus said on request increased – – with every normal person – – as the day went on; a man starts out with some small number every morning and reaches the highest number before falling asleep at night. Consider what could tempt one to call the reactions described “a means of measuring time” or even to say that they are the ''real'' milestones in the passage of time, the sun clocks, etc. {{BBB TS reference|Ts-310,47}} being only indirect markers. || indicators. (Examine the statement that the human heart is the real clock behind all the other clocks).

Looking at these language-games, we don't come across the ideas of the past, the future, and the present in their problematic and almost mysterious aspect. What this aspect is and how it comes about that it appears can be most characteristically exemplified if we look at the question, “Where does the present go when it becomes past, and where is the past?” – – under what circumstances has this question an allurement for us? For under certain circumstances it hasn't, and we should wave it away as nonsense.

It is clear that this question most easily arises if we are preoccupied with cases in which there are things flowing by us, – – as logs of wood float down a river. In such a case we can say the logs which ''have passed'' us are all down towards the left and the logs which ''will pass'' us are all up towards the right. We then use this situation as a simile for all happening in time and even embody the simile in our language, as when we say that “the present event passes by” (a log passes by), “the future event is to come” (a log is to come). We talk about the flow of events; but also about the flow of time – – the river on which the logs travel.

Thus it can come about that we aren't able to rid ourselves of the implications of our symbolism, which seems to admit of a question like, “where does the flame of a candle go to when it's blown out?”, “Where does the light go to?”, “Where does the past go to?”. We have become obsessed with our symbolism. We may say that we are led into puzzlement by an analogy which irresistibly drags us on. – And this also happens when the meaning of the word “now” appears to us in a mysterious light. In our example 55) it appears that the function of “now” is in no way comparable to the function of an expression like “five o'clock”, “midday”, “the time when the sun sets”, etc. This latter group of expressions I might call “specifications || “determinations of times”. But our ordinary language uses the word “now” and determinations of time in similar contexts. Thus we say “The sun sets now”. || “The sun sets at six o' clock”. We are inclined to say that both “now” and “six o'clock” “refer to points of time”. This use of words produces a puzzlement which one might express in the question, “What is the ‘now’? – – for it is a moment of time and yet it can't be said to be either the ‘moment at which I speak’ or the ‘moment at which the clock strikes’ etc., etc.”‒ ‒ Our answer is: The function of the word “now” is entirely different from that of a specification of time. – This can easily be seen if we look at the role this word really plays in our usage of language, but it is obscured when instead of looking at the ''whole language-game'', we only look at the contexts, the phrases {{BBB TS reference|Ts-310,50}} of language in which the word is used. (The word “today” is not a date, but it isn't anything like it either. It doesn't differ from a date as a hammer differs from a mallet, but as a hammer differs from a nail; and surely we may say there is both a connection between a hammer and a mallet and between a hammer and a nail.)

One has been tempted to say that “now” is the name of an instant of time, and this, of course, would be like saying that “here” is the name of a place, “this” the name of a thing, and “I” the name of a man. (One could of course also have said “a year ago” was the name of a time, “over there” the name of a place, and “you” the name of a person.) But nothing is more unlike than the use of the word “this” and the use of a proper name, – – I mean ''the games'' played with these words, not the phrases in which they are used. For we do say, “This is short” and “Jack is short”; but remember that “This is short” without the pointing gesture and without the thing we are pointing to would be meaningless. – What can be compared with a name is not the word “this” but, if you like, the symbol consisting of this word, the gesture, and the sample. We might say: Nothing is more characteristic of a proper name A than that we can use it in such a phrase as, “This is A”; & it makes no sense to say, “This is this” or “Now is now” or “Here is here”.

Now, should we say that the proposition, “B can continue the series”, means that one of the occurrences just described takes place? Isn't it clear that the statement, “B can continue … ” {{BBB TS reference|Ts-310,57}} is not the same as the statement that the formula a_n = n² + n ‒ 1 comes into B's mind? This occurrence might have been all that actually took place. (It is clear, by the way, that it can make no difference to us here whether B has the experience of this formula appearing before his mind's eye, or the experience of writing or speaking the formula, or of picking it out with his eyes from amongst several formulae written down beforehand.) If a parrot had uttered the formula, we should not have said that he could continue the series. – Therefore, we are inclined to say “to be able to … ” must mean more than just uttering the formula, – – and in fact more than any one of the occurrences we have described. And this, we go on, shows that saying the formula was only a symptom of B's being able to go on, and that it was not the ability of going on itself. Now what is misleading in this is that we seem to intimate that there is one peculiar activity, process, or state called “being able to go on” which somehow is hidden from our eyes but manifests itself in these occurrents which we call symptoms (as an inflammation of the mucous membranes of the nose produces the symptom of sneezing). This is the way talking of symptoms, in this case, misleads us. When we say, “Surely there must be something else behind the mere uttering of the formula, as this alone we should not call ‘being able to … ’”, the word “behind” here is certainly used metaphorically, and “behind” the utterance of the formula may be the circumstances under which it is uttered. It is true, “B can continue … ” is not the same as to say, “B says the formula … ”, but it {{BBB TS reference|Ts-310,58}} doesn't follow from this that the expression, “B can continue … ” refers to an activity other than that of saying the formula, in the way in which “B says the formula” refers to the well-known activity. The error we are in is analogous to this: Someone is told the word “chair” does not mean this particular chair I am pointing to, upon which he looks round the room for the object which the word “chair” does denote. (The case would be even more a striking illustration if he tried to look inside the chair in order to find the real meaning of the word “chair”.) It is clear that when with reference to the act of writing or speaking the formula etc., we use the sentence, “He can continue the series”, this must be because of some connection between writing down a formula and actually continuing the series. And the connection in experience of these two processes or activities is clear enough. But this connection tempts us to suggest that the sentence, “B can continue … ” means something like, “B does something which, experience has shown us, generally leads to his continuing the series.” But does B, when he says, “Now I can go on” really mean, “Now I am doing something which, as experience has shown us, etc., etc.”? Do you mean that he had this phrase in his mind or that he would have been prepared to give it as an explanation of what he had said?! To say the phrase, “B can continue … ” is correctly used when prompted by such occurrences as described in 62), 63), 64) but that these occurrences justify its use only under certain circumstances (e.g. when experience has shown certain connections) is not to say that the sentence, “B can continue … ” {{BBB TS reference|Ts-310,59}} is short for the sentence which describes all these circumstances, i.e. the whole situation which is the background of our game.

On the other hand we should ''under certain circumstances'' be ready to substitute “B knows the formula”, “B has said the formula” for “B can continue the series”. As when we ask a doctor, “Can the patient walk?”, we shall sometimes be ready to substitute for this, “Is his leg healed?” – – “Can he speak?” under certain circumstances means, “Is his throat all right?”, under others (e.g. if he is a small child) it means, “Has he learned to speak?” – To the question, “Can the patient walk?”, the doctor's answer may be, “His leg is all right”. – We use the phrase, “He can walk, as far as the state of his leg is concerned”, especially when we wish to oppose this condition for his walking to some other condition, say the state of his spine. Here we must beware of thinking that there is in the nature of the case something which we might call a || the complete set of conditions, e.g. for his walking; so that the patient, as it were, ''must'' walk || can't help walking if all these conditions are fulfilled.

Let us ask the following question: Suppose that, on one ground or another, B has said, “I can continue the series”, but on being asked to continue it he had shown himself unable to do so, – – should we say that this proved that his statement, that he could continue, was wrong, or should we say that he was able to continue when he said he was? Would B himself say, “I see I was wrong”, or “What I said was true, I could do it then but I can't now”? – There are cases in which he would correctly say the one and cases in which he would correctly say the other. Suppose ''a'') when he said he could continue he saw the formula before his mind, but when he was asked to continue he found he had forgotten it; – – or, ''b'') when he said he could continue he had said to himself the next five terms of the series, but now finds that they don't come into his mind; – – or ''c'') before, he had continued the series calculating five more places, now he still remembers these five numbers but has forgotten how he had calculated them; – – or ''d'') he says, “Then I felt I could continue, now I can't”; – – or ''e''), “When I said I could lift the weight my arm didn't hurt, now it does”; etc.

(Consider also the class of cases in which we say, “I can do so-and-so but I won't”: “I could if I tried” – – e.g. lift 100 pounds; “I could if I wished” – – e.g. say the alphabet.)

Now looking back to our discussion of 43), we see that it was no final || real explanation of B's being guided by the signs when we said that B was guided if he ''could'' also have carried out orders consisting in other combinations of dots and dashes than those of 43). In fact, when we considered the question whether B in 43) was guided by the signs, we were all the time inclined to say some such thing as that we could only decide this question with certainty if we could look into the actual mechanism connecting seeing the signs with acting according to them. For we have a definite picture of what in a mechanism we should call certain parts being guided by others. In fact, the mechanism which immediately suggests itself when we wish to show what in such a case as 43) we should call “being guided by the signs” is a mechanism of the type of a pianola. Here, in the working of the pianola we have a clear case of certain actions, {{BBB TS reference|Ts-310,66}} those of the hammers of the piano, being guided by the pattern of holes in the pianola roll. We could use the expression, “The pianola is ''reading off'' the record made by the perforations in the roll”, and we might call patterns of such perforations ''complex signs'' or ''sentences'', opposing their function in a pianola to the function which similar devices have in mechanisms of a different type, e.g., the combination of notches and teeth which form a key bit. The bolt of a lock is caused to slide by this particular combination, but we should not say that the movement of the bolt was guided by the way in which we combined teeth and notches, i.e., we should not say that the bolt moved ''according'' to the pattern of the key bit. You see here the connection between the idea of being guided and the idea of being able to read new combinations of signs: for we should say that the pianola ''can'' read ''any'' pattern of perforations, of a particular kind, it is not built for one particular tune or set of tunes (like a musical box), – – whereas the bolt of the lock reacts to that pattern of the key bit only which is predetermined in || by the construction of the lock. We could say that the notches and teeth forming a key bit are not comparable to the words making up a sentence but to the letters making up a word, and that the pattern of the key bit in this sense did not correspond to a complex sign, to a sentence, but to a word.

{{parBB|67}} Imagine that human beings or animals were used as reading machines, assume that in order to become reading machines they need a particular training. The man who trains them says of some of them that they already can read, of others that they can't. Take a case of one who has so far not responded to the training. If you put before him a printed word he will sometimes make sounds, and every now and then it happens “accidentally” that these sounds more or less agree with || correspond to the printed word. A third person hears the pupil || creature under training uttering the right sound on looking at the word “table”. The third person says, “He reads”, but the teacher answers, “No, he doesn't, it is mere accident”. But supposing now that the pupil on being shown other words and sentences goes on reading them correctly. After a time the teacher says, “Now he can read”. – But what about the first word “table”? Should the teacher say, “I was wrong; he read that, too”, or should he say, “No, he only started reading later”? When did he really begin to read, or: Which was the first word, or the first letter, which he read? It is clear that this question here makes no sense unless I give an “artificial” explanation such as: “The first word which he reads = the first word of the first hundred consecutive words he reads correctly”. – Suppose on the other hand that we used the word “reading” to distinguish between the case when a particular conscious process of spelling out the words takes place in a person's mind from the case in which this does not happen: {{BBB TS reference|Ts-310,70}} – – Then, at least the person who is reading could say that such-and-such a word was the first which he actually read. – Also, in the different case of a reading machine which is a mechanism connecting signs with the reactions to these signs, e.g., a pianola, we could say, “only after such-and-such a thing has been done to the machine, e.g., certain parts had been connected by wires, the machine actually read; the first letter which it read was a ''d''”. ‒ ‒

Do this: Say by heart the series of cardinals from one to twelve, – – Now look at the dial of your watch and ''read'' this sequence of numbers. Ask yourself what in this case you called reading, that is, what did you do to make it reading?

It was not the function of our examples to show us the essence of “deriving”, “reading”, and so forth through a veil of inessential features; they || the examples were not descriptions of an outside letting us guess at an inside which for some reason or other could not be shown in its nakedness. We are tempted to think that our examples are ''indirect'' means for producing a certain image or idea in a person's mind, – – that they ''hint'' at something which they cannot show. This would be so in some such case as this: Suppose I wish to produce in someone a mental image of the inside of a particular 18th century room which he is prevented from entering. I therefore adopt this method: I show him the house from the outside, pointing out the windows of the room in question, I further lead him into other rooms of the same period. ‒ ‒

{{parBB|1}} Take the case that B is shown a series of apparatus, – – a balance, a thermometer, a spectroscope, etc.

Suppose you look at two faces and say, “They are similar, but I don't know what it is that's similar about them.” And suppose that after a while you said: “Now I know; their eyes have the same shape”, I should say, “Now your experience of their similarity is different from what it was when you saw similarity and didn't know what it consisted in.” Now to the question “What made you use the word ‘darker’ … ?” the answer may be, “Nothing made me use the word ‘darker’, – – that is, if you ask me for a ''reason'' why I use it. I just used it, and what is more I used it with the same intonation of voice, and perhaps with the same facial expression and gesture which I should in certain cases be inclined to use when applying the word to colours.” – It is easier to see this when we speak of a ''deep'' sorrow, a ''deep'' sound, a ''deep'' well. Some people are able to distinguish between fat and lean days of the week. And their experience when they conceive a day as a fat one consists in applying this word together perhaps with a gesture expressive of fatness and a certain comfort.

What if somebody said, pointing to two patches which I had called red, “Surely you are using the word ‘red’ in two different ways.” – I should say, “This is light red and the other dark red, – – but why should I have to talk of two different usages?”‒ ‒

“But don't I perceive that the relation between a lighter and a darker bit of material is a different one than that between the vowels ''e'' and ''u'', – – as on the other hand I perceive that the relation between ''u'' and ''e'' is the same as that between ''e'' and ''i''?” – Under certain circumstances we shall in these cases be inclined to talk of different relations, under certain others to talk of the same relation. One might say, “It depends how {{BBB TS reference|Ts-310,98}} one compares them.”

“I suppose what you say comes to this, that in order to follow the rule “Add 1” correctly a new insight, intuition, is needed at every step.” – But what does it mean to follow the rule ''correctly''? How and when is it to be decided which at a particular point is the correct step to take? – “The correct step at every point is” that which is in accordance with the rule as it was ''meant'', intended.” … with the ''meaning'', intention, of the rule.” – I suppose the idea is this: When you gave the rule, “Add 1”, and meant it, you meant him to write 101 after 100, 199 after 198, 1041 after 1040, and so on. But how did you do all these acts of meaning (I suppose an infinite number of them) when you gave him the rule? Or is this misrepresenting {{BBB TS reference|Ts-310,101}} it? And would you say that there was only one act of meaning, from which, however, all these others, or any one of them, followed in turn? But isn't the point just: “what does follow from the general rule?” You might say, “Surely I knew when I gave him the rule that I meant him to follow up 100 by 101.” But here you are misled by the grammar of the word “to know”. Was knowing this some mental act by which you at the time made the transition from 100 to 101, e.g., some act like saying to yourself: “I want him to write 101 after 100”? In this case ask yourself how many such acts you performed when you gave him the rule. Or do you mean by knowing some kind of disposition, – – then only experience can teach us what it was a disposition for. – “But surely if one had asked me which number he should write after 1568, I should have answered ‘1569’.” – I dare say you would, but how can you be sure of it? Your idea really is that somehow in the mysterious act of ''meaning'' the rule you made the transitions without really making them. You crossed all the bridges before you were there. – This queer idea is connected with a peculiar use of the word “to mean”. Suppose our man got the number 100 and followed it up by 102. We should then say, “I ''meant'' you to write 101.” Now the past tense in the word “to mean” suggests that a particular act of meaning had been performed when the rule was given, though as a matter of fact this expression alludes to no such act. The past tense could be explained by putting the sentence into the form, “Had you asked me before what I wanted you to do at this stage, I should have said … ” But it is a hypothesis that you would have said that.

But I should certainly say that ''I would'' || should call the application of “lighter” and “darker” to vowels “another usage of the words”; and I also should carry on the series “Add 1” in the way 101, 102, etc., but not – – or not necessarily – – because of some other justifying mental act.

And here we say, “But surely designing a new shape isn't in itself changing one's taste, – – and saying a word isn't meaning it, – – and saying that I believe isn't believing; there must be feelings, mental acts, going along with these lines and these words.” – And the reason we give for saying this is {{BBB TS reference|Ts-310,104}} that a man certainly could design a new shape without having changed his taste, say that he believes something without believing it, etc. And this obviously is true. But it doesn't follow that what distinguishes a case of having changed one's taste from a case of not having done so isn't under certain circumstances just designing what one hasn't designed before. Nor does it follow that in cases in which designing a new shape is not the criterion for a change of taste, the criterion must be a change in some particular region of our mind.

It is even possible while lying to have quite a strong experience of what might be called the characteristic for meaning what one says, – – and yet under certain circumstances, and perhaps under the ordinary circumstances || ones, one refers to just this experience in saying, “I meant what I said”, because the cases in which something might give the lie to these experiences do not come into the question. In many cases therefore we are inclined to say, “Meaning what I say” means having such-and-such experiences while I say it.

We should say that we had told the Frenchman what I believed if we translated my words for him into French. And it ''might'' be that thereby we told him nothing – – even indirectly – – about what happened “in me” when I uttered my belief. Rather, we pointed out to him a sentence which in his language holds a similar position to my sentence in the English language. – Again one might say that, at least in certain cases, we could have told him much more exactly what I believed if he had been at home in the English language, because then, he would have known exactly what happened within me when I spoke.

What holds for “meaning” holds for “thinking”. – We very often find it impossible to think without speaking to ourselves half aloud, – – and nobody asked to describe what happened in this case would ever say that something – – the thinking – – accompanied the || his speaking, were they || he not led into doing so by the pair of verbs, “speaking”: :“thinking”, and by many of our common phrases in which their uses run parallel. Consider these examples: “Think before you speak!”, “He speaks without thinking”, “What I said didn't quite express my thought”, “He says one thing and thinks just the opposite”, “I didn't mean a word of what I said”, “The French language uses its words in that order in which we think them.”

And this brings me to the following point: When someone asks me, “What colour is the book over there?”, and I say, “Red”, and then he asks, “What made you call this colour ‘red’?”, I shall in most cases have to say: “Nothing ''makes'' me call it red; that is, no ''reason''. I just looked at it and said, ‘It's red’”. One is then inclined to say: “Surely this isn't all that happened; for I could look at a colour and say a word and still not name the colour.” And then one is inclined to go on to say: “The word ‘red’ when we pronounce it, naming the colour we look at, ''comes in a particular way''.” But, at the same time, asked, “Can you describe the way you mean?” – – one wouldn't feel prepared to give ''any'' description. Suppose now we asked: “Do you, at any rate, remember that the name of the colour {{BBB TS reference|Ts-310,112}} came to you ''in that particular way'' whenever you named colours on former occasions?” – – he would have to admit that he didn't remember a particular way in which this always happened. In fact one could easily make him see that naming a colour could go along with all sorts of different experiences. Compare such cases as these: ''a'') I put an iron in the fire to heat it to light red heat. I am asking you to watch the iron and want you to tell me from time to time what stage of ''heat'' it has reached. You look and say: “It is beginning to get light red.” ''b'') We stand at a street crossing and I say: “Watch out for the red light. When it comes on, tell me and I'll run across.” Ask yourself this question: If in one such case you shout “Green!” and in another “Run!”, do these words come in the same way or different ways? Can you || one say anything about this in a general way? ''c'') I ask you: “What's the colour of the bit of material you have in your hand?” (and I can't see). You think: “Now what does one call this? Is this ‘Prussian blue’ or ‘indigo’?”

Now it is very remarkable that when in a philosophical conversation we say: “The name of a colour comes in a particular way”, we don't trouble to think of the many different cases and ways in which such a name comes. – And our chief argument is really that naming the colour is different from just pronouncing a word on some different occasion while looking at a colour. Thus one might say: “Suppose we counted some objects lying on our table, a blue one, a red one, a white one, and a black one, – – looking at each in turn we say: ‘One, two, three, {{BBB TS reference|Ts-310,113}} four’. Isn't it easy to see that something different happens in this case when we pronounce the words than what would happen if we had to tell someone the colours of the objects? And couldn't we, with the same right as before, have said, ‘Nothing happens when we say the numerals than just saying them while looking at the object’?” – Now two answers can be given to this: First, undoubtedly, at least in the great majority of cases, counting the objects will be accompanied by different experiences from naming their colours. And it is easy to describe roughly what the difference will be. In counting we know a certain gesture, as it were, beating the number out with one's finger or by nodding one's head. There is on the other hand an experience which one might call “concentrating one's attention on the colour”, getting the full impression of it. And these are the sort of things one recalls when one says, “It is easy to see that something different happens when we count the objects and when we name their colours.” But it is in no way necessary that certain peculiar experiences more or less characteristic for counting take place while we are counting, nor that the peculiar phenomenon of gazing at the colour takes place when we look at the object and name its colour. It is true that the processes of counting four objects and of naming their colours will, in most cases at any rate, be different taken as a whole, and ''this'' is what strikes us; but that doesn't mean at all that we know that something different happens every time in these two cases when we pronounce a numeral on the one hand and a name of a colour on the other.

{{BBB TS reference|Ts-310,114}} When we philosophize about this sort of thing we almost invariably do something of this sort: We repeat to ourselves a certain experience, say, by looking fixedly at a certain object and trying to “read off” as it were the name of its colour. And it is quite natural that doing so again and again we should be inclined to say, “Something particular happens while we say the word ‘blue’”. For we are aware of going again and again through the same || identical process. But ask yourself: Is this also the process which we usually go through when on various occasions – – not philosophizing – – we name the colour of an object?

The problem which we are concerned with we also encounter in thinking about volition, deliberate and involuntary action. Think, say, of these examples: I deliberate whether to lift a certain heavyish weight, decide to do it, I then apply my force to it and lift it. Here, you might say, you have a full-fledged case of willing and intentional action. Compare with this such a case as reaching a man a lighted match after having lit with it one's own cigarette and seeing that he wishes to light his; or again the case of moving your hand while writing a letter, or moving your mouth, larynx, etc. while speaking. – Now when I called the first example a full fledged case of willing, I deliberately used this misleading expression. For this expression indicates that one is inclined in thinking about volition to regard this sort of example as one exhibiting most clearly the typical characteristic of willing. One takes one's ideas, and one's language, about volition from this kind of example and thinks that they must apply – – if not in such an {{BBB TS reference|Ts-310,115}} obvious way – – to all cases which one can properly call cases of willing. – It is the same case that we have met over and over again: The forms of expression of our ordinary language fit most obviously certain very special applications of the words “willing”, “thinking”, “meaning”, “reading”, etc. etc. And thus we might have called the case in which a man “first thinks and then speaks” as the full fledged case of thinking and the case in which a man spells out the words he is reading as the full fledged case of reading. We speak of an “act of volition” as different from the action which is willed, and in our first example there are lots of different acts clearly distinguishing this case from one in which all that happens is that the hand and the weight lift: there are the preparations of deliberation and decision, there is the effort of lifting. But where do we find the analogues to these processes in our other examples and in innumerable ones we might have given?

If I had said, “When I told him that the train was leaving at 3.30, believing that it did, nothing happened than that I just uttered the sentence”, and if someone contradicted me saying, “Surely this couldn't have been all, as you might ‘just say a sentence’ without believing it”, – – my answer should be, “I didn't wish to say that there was no difference between speaking, believing what you say, and speaking, not believing what you say; but the pair ‘believing’::‘not believing’ refers to various differences in different cases (differences forming a family), not to one difference, that between the presence and the absence of a certain mental state.”

Now to involuntary speaking. Imagine you had to describe a case, – – what would you do? There is of course the case of speaking in one's sleep; here the characteristic is that you know nothing about it while it happens and don't remember having done it afterwards. || this is characterized by our doing it without being aware of it and not remembering having done it. But this obviously you wouldn't call the characteristic of an involuntary action.

A better example of involuntary speaking would I suppose be that of involuntary exclamations: “Oh!”, “Help!”, and such like, and these utterances are akin to shrieking with pain. (This, by the way, could set us thinking about “words as expressions of feelings.”) One might say, “Surely these are good examples of involuntary speech, because there is in these cases not only no act of volition by which we speak, but in many cases we utter these words ''against'' our will.” I should say: I certainly should call this involuntary speaking; and I agree that an act of volition preparatory to or accompanying these words is absent, – – if by “act of volition” you refer to certain acts of {{BBB TS reference|Ts-310,122}} intention, premeditation, or effort. But then in many cases of voluntary speech I don't feel an effort, much that I speak || say voluntarily is not premeditated, and I don't know of any acts of intention preceding it.

Crying out with pain against our will could be compared with raising our arm against our will when someone forces it up while we are struggling against him. But it is important to notice that the will – – or should we say “wish” – – not to cry out is overcome in a different way from that in which our resistance is overcome by the strength of the opponent. When we cry out against our will, we are as it were taken by surprise; as though someone forced up our hands by unexpectedly sticking a gun into our ribs, commanding, “Hands up!”

Consider now the following example, which is of great help in all these considerations: In order to see what happens when one understands a word, we play this game: You have a list of words, partly these words are words of my native language, partly words of foreign languages more or less familiar to me, partly words of languages entirely unknown to me, (or, which comes to the same, nonsensical words invented for the occasion.) Some of the words of my native tongue, again, are words of ordinary, everyday usage; and some of these, like “house”, “table”, “man”, are what we might call primitive words, being among the first words a child learns, and some of these again, words of baby talk like “Mamma”, “Papa”. Again there are more or less common technical terms such as “carburetor”, “dynamo”, “fuse”; etc. etc. All these words are read out to me, and after each one I have to say “Yes” or “No” according to whether I understand the word or {{BBB TS reference|Ts-310,123}} not. I then try to remember what happened in my mind when I understood the words I did understand, and when I didn't understand the others. And here again it will be useful to consider the particular tone of voice and facial expression with which I say “Yes” and “No”, alongside of the so-called mental events. – Now it may surprise us to find that although this experiment will shew us a multitude of different characteristic experiences, it will not shew us any one experience which we should be inclined to call the experience of understanding. There will be such experiences as these: I hear the word “tree” and say “Yes” with the tone of voice and sensation of “Of course”. Or I hear “corroboration” – – I say to myself, “Let me see”, vaguely remember a case of helping, and say “Yes”. I hear “gadget”, I imagine the man who always used this word, and say “Yes”. I hear “Mamma”, this strikes me as funny and childish, – – “Yes”. A foreign word I shall very often translate in my mind into English before answering. I hear “spinthariscope”, and say to myself, “Must be some sort of scientific instrument”, perhaps try to think up its meaning from its derivation and fail, and say “No”. In another case I might say to myself, “Sounds like Chinese” – – “No”. Etc. There will on the other hand be a large class of cases in which I am not aware of anything happening except hearing the word and saying the answer. And there will also be cases in which I remember experiences (sensations, thoughts), which, as I should say, had nothing to do with the word at all. Thus amongst the experiences which I can describe there will be a class which I might call typical experiences of understanding and some typical experiences of {{BBB TS reference|Ts-310,124}} not understanding. But opposed to these there will be a large class of cases in which I should have to say, “I know of no particular experience at all, I just said ‘Yes’, or ‘No’.”

Of course in our experiment we might call saying “Yes” or “No” characteristic experiences of understanding or not understanding, but what if we just hear a word in a sentence where there isn't even a question of this reaction to it? – We are here in a curious difficulty: on the one hand it seems we have no reason to say that in all cases in which we understand a word one particular experience – – or even one of a set – – is present. On the other hand we may feel it's plainly wrong to say that in such a case all that happens may be that I hear or say the word. For that seems to be saying that part of the time we act as mere automatons. And the answer is that in a sense we do and in a sense we don't.

Thus also, acting voluntarily (or involuntarily) is, in many cases, characterized as such by a multitude of circumstances under which the action takes place rather than by an experience which we should call characteristic of voluntary action. And in this sense it is true to say that what happened when I got out of bed – – when I should certainly not call it involuntary – – was that I found myself getting up. Or rather, this is a {{BBB TS reference|Ts-310,126}} possible case; for of course every day something different happens.

{{BBB TS reference|Ts-310,128}} slowly”, I am specifying the ways. I might on the other hand say, “I don't know what the difference is”, intimating that I'm ''trying'' to specify the difference, and perhaps later on I shall say, “Now I know what it is; it is … ” – I could on the other hand tell you that they came in different ways, and you wouldn't know what to make of this statement, and perhaps answer, “Of course they come in different ways; they just ''are'' different.” – We could describe our trouble by saying that we feel as though we could give an experience a name without at the same time committing ourselves about its use, and in fact without any intention to use it at all. Thus when I say “red” comes in a particular way … , I feel that I might now give this way a name if it hasn't already got one, say “A”. But at the same time I am not at all prepared to say that I recognize this to be the way “red” has always come on such occasions, nor even to say that there are, say, four ways, say A, B, C, D, in one of which it always comes. You might say that the two ways in which “red” and “two” come can be identified by, say, exchanging the meaning of the two words, using “red” as the second cardinal numeral, “two” as the name of a colour. Thus, on being asked how many eyes I had, I should answer “red”, and to the question, “What is the colour of blood?”, “two”. But the question now arises whether you can identify the “way in which these words come” independently of the ways in which they are used, – – I mean the ways just described. Did you wish to say that as a matter of experience, the word when used in ''this'' way always comes in the way A, but may, the next time, come in the way “two” usually comes? You will see then that {{BBB TS reference|Ts-310,129}} you meant nothing of the sort.

Let us now consider a very instructive case of that use of the word “particular” in which it does not point to a comparison || in which it doesn't indicate that I'm making a comparison, and yet seems most strongly to do so, – – the case when we contemplate the expression of a face primitively drawn in this way: [[File:Brown Book 2-Ts310,132.png|40px|link=]]. Let this face produce an impression on you. You may then feel inclined to say: “Surely I don't see mere strokes. || dashes. I see a face with a ''particular'' expression.” But you don't mean that it has an outstanding expression nor is it said as an introduction to a description of the expression, though we {{BBB TS reference|Ts-310,133}} might give such a description and say, e.g., “It looks like a complacent business man, stupidly supercilious, who though fat, imagines he's a lady killer.” But this would only be meant as an approximate description of the expression. “Words can't exactly describe it”, one sometimes says. And yet one feels that what one calls the expression of the face is something that can be detached from the drawing of the face. It is as though we could say: “This face has a particular expression: namely this” (pointing to something). But if I had to point to anything in this place it would have to be the face || drawing I am looking at. (We are, as it were, under an optic delusion which by some sort of reflection makes us think that there are two objects where there is only one.) The delusion is assisted by our using the verb “to have”, saying “The face ''has'' a particular expression.” Things look different when, instead of this, we say: “This ''is'' a peculiar face.” (What a thing ''is'', we mean, is bound up with it; what it has can be separated from it.)

{{BBB TS reference|Ts-310,134}} when I let the face make an impression on me, as though there existed a double of its expression, as though the double was the prototype of the expression and as though seeing the expression of the face was finding the prototype to which it corresponded – – as though in our mind there had been a mould and the picture we see had fallen into that mould, fitting it. But it is rather that we let the picture sink into our mind and make a mould there.

as a swastika” is of special interest because this expression might mean being, somehow, under the optical delusion that the square is not quite closed, that there are the gaps which distinguish the swastika from our drawing. On the other hand it is quite clear that this was not what we meant by “seeing our drawing as a swastika”. We saw it in a way which suggested the description, “I see it as a swastika.” One might suggest that we ought to have said, “I see it as a closed swastika”; – – but then, what is the difference between a closed swastika and a square with diagonals? I think that in this case it is easy to recognize “what happens when we see our figure as a swastika.” I believe it is that we retrace the figure with our eyes in a particular way, viz., by starting at the centre, looking along a radius, and along a side adjacent to it, starting at the centre again, taking the next radius and the next side, say in a right handed sense of rotation, etc. But this ''explanation'' of the phenomenon of seeing the figure as a swastika is of no fundamental interest to us. It is of interest to us only in so far as it helps one to see that the expression, “seeing the figure as a swastika” did not mean seeing ''this'' as ''that'', seeing one thing as something else, when, essentially, ''two'' visual objects entered the process of doing so. – Thus also seeing the first figure as a cube did not mean “taking it to be a cube.” (For we might never have seen a cube and still have this experience of “seeing it as a cube”).

We may shed light on all these considerations if we compare what happens when we remember the face of someone who enters our room, when we recognize him as Mr. So-and-so, – – when we compare what really happens in such cases with the representation we are sometimes inclined to make of the events. {{BBB TS reference|Ts-310,137}} For here we are often obsessed by a primitive conception, viz., that we are comparing the man we see with a memory image in our mind and we find the two to agree. I.e., we are representing “recognizing someone” as a process of identification by means of a picture (as a criminal is identified by his photo.) I needn't say that in most cases in which we recognize someone no comparison between him and a mental picture takes place. We are, of course, tempted to give this description by the fact that there are memory images. Very often, for instance, such an image comes before our mind immediately ''after'' having recognized someone. I see him as he stood when we last saw each other ten years ago.

The same strange illusion which we are under when we seem to seek the something which a face expresses whereas, in reality, we are giving ourselves up to the features before us,– – that same illusion possesses us even more strongly if repeating a tune to ourselves and letting it make its full impression on us, we say, “This tune says ''something''”, and it is as though I had to find ''what'' it says. And yet I know that it doesn't say anything in which I might express in words or pictures what it says. And if, recognizing this, I resign myself to saying, “It just expresses a musical thought”, this would mean no more than saying, “It expresses itself.” – “But surely when you play it you don't play it ''anyhow'', you play it in this particular way, making a crescendo here, a diminuendo there, a caesura in this place, etc.”‒ ‒ Precisely, and that's all I can say about it, or may be all that I can say about it. For in certain cases I can justify, explain the particular expression with which I play it by a comparison, as when I say, “At this point of the theme, there is, as it were, a colon”, or, “This is, as it were, the answer to what came before”, etc. (This, by the way, shews what a “justification” and an “explanation” in aesthetics is like.) It is true I may hear a tune played and say, “This is not how it ought to be played, it goes like this”; and I whistle it in a different tempo. Here one is inclined to ask, “What is it like to know the tempo in which a piece of music should be played?” And the idea suggests itself that there ''must'' be a paradigm somewhere in our mind, and that we have {{BBB TS reference|Ts-310,139}} adjusted the tempo to conform to that paradigm. But in most cases if someone asked me, “How do you think this melody should be played?”, I will as an answer just whistle it in a particular way, and nothing will have been present to my mind but the tune ''actually whistled'' (not an image of ''that'').

Now we have used a misleading expression when we said that besides the experiences of seeing and speaking in reading there was another experience, etc. This is saying that to certain experiences another experience is added. – Now take the experience of seeing a sad face, say, in drawing, – – we can say that to see the drawing as a sad face is not “just” to see it as some complex of strokes, (think of a puzzle picture). But the word “just” here seems to intimate that in seeing the drawing as a face some experience is added to the experience of seeing it as mere strokes; as though I had to say that seeing the drawing as a face consisted of two experiences, elements.

Look at a written word, say, “read”, – – “It isn't just a scribble, it's ‘read’”, I should like to say, “It has one definite physiognomy.” But what is it that I am really saying about it?! What is this statement, straightened out? “The word falls”, one is tempted to explain, “into a mould of my mind ''long'' prepared for it.” But as I don't perceive both the word and a mould, the metaphor of the word's fitting a mould can't allude to an experience of comparing the hollow and the solid shape before they are fitted together, but rather to an experience of seeing the solid shape accentuated by a particular background.

Suppose I said, “I see this scribble like ''this''”, and while saying “this scribble” I look at it as a mere scribble, and while saying “like ''this''”, I see the face, – – this would come to something like saying, “What at one time appears to me like this at another appears to me like that”, and here the “this” and the “that” would be accompanied by the two different ways of seeing. – But we must ask ourselves in what game is this sentence with the processes accompanying it to be used. E.g., whom am I telling this? Suppose the answer is, “I'm saying it to myself.” But that is not enough. We are here in the grave danger of believing that we know what to do with a sentence if it looks more or less like one of the common sentences of our language. But here in order not to be deluded we have to ask ourselves: What is the use, say, of the words “this” and “that”? – – or rather, What are the different uses which we make of them? What we call their meaning the meaning of these words is {{BBB TS reference|Ts-310,145}} not anything which they have got in them or which is fastened to them irrespective of what use we make of them. Thus it is one use of the word “this” to go along with a gesture pointing to something: We say, “I am seeing the square with the diagonals like this”, pointing to a swastika. And referring to the square with diagonals I might have said, “What at one time appears to me like this [[File:Brown Book 2-Ts310,134c.png|80px|link=]] at another time appears to me like that [[File:Brown Book 2-Ts310,134d.png|80px|link=]].” And this is certainly not the use we made of the sentence in the above case. – One might think the whole difference between the two cases is this, that in the first the pictures are mental, in the second, real drawings. We should here ask ourselves in what sense we can call mental images pictures, for in some ways they are comparable to drawn or painted pictures, and in others not. It is, e.g., one of the essential points about the use of a “material” picture that we say that it remains the same not only on the ground that it seems to us to be the same, that we remember that it looked before as it looks now. In fact we shall say under certain circumstances that the picture hasn't changed although it seems to have changed; and we say it hasn't changed because it has been kept in a certain way, certain influences have been kept out. Therefore the expression, “The picture hasn't changed”, is used in a different way when we talk of a material picture on the one hand, and of a mental one on the other. Just as the statement, “These ticks follow at equal intervals”, has got one grammar if the ticks are the tick of a pendulum and the criterion for their regularity is the result of measurements which we have made on our apparatus, and another grammar if the ticks are ticks which {{BBB TS reference|Ts-310,146}} we imagine. I might for instance ask the question: When I said to myself, “What at one time appears to me like this, at another … ”, did I recognize the two aspects, this and that, as the same which I got on previous occasions? Or were they new to me and I tried to remember them for future occasions? Or was all that I meant to say, “I can change the aspect of this figure”?

I might then have said, “I find that the same experience goes on all the time”, but I wished to say: “I don't just notice that it's the same experience throughout, I notice a particular experience.” Looking at a uniformly coloured wall I might say, “I don't just see that it has the same colour all over, but I see the || a particular colour.” But in saying this I am mistaking the function of a sentence. – It seems that you wish to specify the colour you see, but not by saying anything about it, nor by comparing it with a sample, – – but by pointing to it; using it at the same time as the sample and that which {{BBB TS reference|Ts-310,150}} the sample is compared with.

Consider this example: You tell me to write a few lines, and while I am doing so you ask, “Do you feel something in your hand || notice a feeling in your hand while you are writing?” I say, “Yes, I have a peculiar feeling.” – Can't I say to myself when I write, “I have ''this'' feeling”? Of course I can say it, and while saying “this feeling”, I concentrate on the feeling. – But what do I do with this sentence? What use is it to me? It seems that I am pointing out to myself what I am feeling, – – as though my act of concentration was an “inward” act of pointing, one which no one else but me is aware of, this however is unimportant. But I don't point to the feeling by attending to it. Rather, attending to the feeling means producing or modifying it. (On the other hand, observing a chair does not mean producing or modifying the chair.)

Suppose I said to someone: “Observe the particular lighting of this room.” – Under certain circumstances the sense of this order || imperative will be quite clear, e.g., if the walls of the room were red with the setting sun. But suppose at any other time when there is nothing striking about the lighting I said, “Observe the particular lighting of this room”: – – Well, isn't there a particular lighting? So what is the difficulty about observing it? But the person who was told to observe the lighting when there was nothing striking about it would probably look about the room and say, “Well, what about it?” Now I might go on and say, “It is exactly the same lighting as yesterday at this hour”, or “It is just this slightly dim light which you see in this picture of the room.”

{{BBB TS reference|Ts-310,154}} Suppose someone answered to our order: “Yes || “All right, I am now observing the particular lighting this room has”, – – this would sound as though he could point out to us the particular lighting || which lighting it was. The order, that is to say, may seem to tell || have told you to do something with this particular lighting, as opposed to another one (like “Paint this lighting, not that”). Whereas you obey the order by taking in ''lighting'', as opposed to dimensions, shapes, etc.

It is similar with such expressions as, “Each of these {{BBB TS reference|Ts-310,157}} colour patterns impresses one.” We feel we wish to guard against the idea that a colour pattern is a means to producing in us a certain impression – – the colour pattern being like a drug and we interested merely in the effect this drug produces. – We wish to avoid any form of expression which would seem to refer to an effect produced by an object on a subject. (Here we are bordering on the problem of idealism and realism and on the problem whether statements of aesthetics are subjective or objective.) Saying, “I see this and am impressed” is apt to make it seem as though || that the impression was some feeling accompanying the seeing, and that the sentence said something like, “I see this and feel a pressure.”

I could have used the expression, “Each of these colour patterns has meaning”; – – I didn't say “has meaning”, for this would provoke the question, “What meaning?”, which in the case we are considering is senseless. We are distinguishing between meaningless patterns and patterns which have meaning; but there is no such expression in our game as, “This pattern has the meaning so-and-so.” Nor even the expression, “These two patterns have different meanings”, unless this is to say: “These are two different patterns and both have meaning.”

It is easy to understand though why we should be inclined to use the transitive form of expression. For let us see what use we make of such an expression as, “This face says something”, that is, what the situations are in which we use this expression, what sentence would precede or follow it, (what kind of conversation it is a part of). We should perhaps follow up such {{BBB TS reference|Ts-310,158}} a remark by saying, “Look at the line of these eyebrows” or “The ''dark'' eyes and the ''pale'' face!”; these expressions would draw attention to certain features. We should in the same connection use comparisons, as for instance, “The nose is like a beak”, – – but also such expressions as “The whole face expresses bewilderment”, and here we have used “expressing” transitively.

We can now consider sentences which, as one might say, give an analysis of the impression we get, say, from a face. Take such a statement as, “The particular impression of this face is due to its small eyes and low forehead.” Here the words, “the particular impression”, may stand for a certain specification, e.g., “the stupid expression.” Or, on the other hand, they may mean, “what makes this expression a striking one” (i.e. an extraordinary one); or, “what strikes one about this face” (i.e., “what draws one's attention”). Or again, our sentence may mean, “If you change ''these'' features in the slightest the expression will change entirely (whereas you might change other features without changing the expression nearly so much)”. The form of this statement, however, mustn't mislead us into thinking that there is in every case a supplementing statement of the form, “First the expression was ''this'', after the change it's ''that''.” We can, of course, say, “Smith frowned, and his expression changed from this to that”, pointing, say, at two drawings of his face. – – (Compare with this the two statements: “He said these words”, and “His words said something”).

Different experiences of familiarity: ''a'') Someone enters my room, I haven't seen him for a long time, and didn't expect him. I look at him, say or feel, “Oh, it's you.” – (Why did I in giving this example say that I hadn't seen the man for a long time? Wasn't I setting out to describe ''experiences of'' familiarity? And whatever the experience was I alluded to, couldn't I have had it even if I had seen the man half an hour ago? I mean, I gave the circumstances of recognizing the man as a means to the end of describing the precise situation of the recognition. One might object to this way of describing the ''experience'', saying that it brought in irrelevant things, and in {{BBB TS reference|Ts-310,161}} fact wasn't a ''description'' of the feeling at all. In saying this one takes as the prototype of a description, say, the description of a table, which tells you the exact shape, dimensions, the material which it is made of, and its colour. Such a description one might say pieces the table together. There is on the other hand a different kind of description of a table, such as you might find in a novel, e.g., “It was a small, rickety table decorated in Moorish style, the sort that is used for smoker's requisites.” Such a description might be called an indirect one; but if the purpose of it is to bring a vivid image of the table before your mind in a flash, it might serve this purpose incomparably better than a detailed “direct” description. – Now if I am to give the description of a feeling of familiarity or recognition, – – what do you expect me to do? Can I piece the feeling together? In a sense of course I could, giving you many different stages and the way my feelings changed. Such detailed descriptions you can find in some of the great novels. Now if you think of descriptions of pieces of furniture as you might find them in a novel, you see that to this kind of description you can oppose another making use of drawings, measures such as one should give to a cabinet maker. This latter kind one is inclined to call the only direct and complete description (though this way of expressing ourselves shews that we forget that there are certain purposes which the “real” description does not fulfil). These considerations should warn you not to think that there is one real and direct description of, say, the feeling of recognition as opposed to {{BBB TS reference|Ts-310,162}} the “indirect” one which I have given.)

I will examine one particular case, that of a feeling which I shall roughly describe by saying it is the feeling of “long, long ago.” These words and the tone in which they are said are a gesture of pastness. But I will specify the experiences which I mean still further by saying that it is that corresponding to a certain tune (Davidsbündlertänze – – “Wie aus weiter Ferne”). I'm imagining this tune played with the right {{BBB TS reference|Ts-310,166}} expression and thus recorded, say, for a gramophone. Then this is the most elaborate and exact expression of a feeling of pastness || exact gesture of pastness which I can imagine.