ii) Nor can we speak intelligibly of past, present or future
facts. Fact, as such, is timeless in that it `embraces'
what we think of as temporal sequence. When we say ` that
is the case' the `is' includes `was' and `will be'.
This is often a difficult point for people to come to
terms with and their failure to do so results in such
nonsenses as saying that we can know that past states of
affair are so but not that future states of affairs will
be so. The problem arises mainly from a confusion between
fact(s) and events. That an event occurred (occurs, will
occur) at a given time - i.e. contemporaneously with
certain other events - is `part of fact'. But the fact is
not at that time. It is a fact that it rained in
Newcastle yesterday and (so I believe) it is a fact that it
will rain in Newcastle again before the year is out.
iii) We cannot speak of fact (or even a fact) as being
comparatively vague or precise. Fact is the totality of
what is so and, as such, we might say, is `ultimately
precise' (if that were not a patently silly expression).
What is comparatively vague or precise is our thought
about fact or our awareness of it; the fact is simply as
it is.
v) To talk of fact, however, is to assert the existence of an
objective reality independent of and prior to any
awareness. It is safest, therefore, to content ourselves
with the simple description - Fact is whatever is so
(bearing in mind that the `is' embraces `was' and `will
be').
3. We think about fact in propositions. In order to think (be aware,
`make contact' with the objective reality), we must isolate certain
aspects, certain relationships of elements, within the totality of
inter-related elements which is fact - i.e. we must create for
ourselves `think-about-able' facts - i.e. we must formulate
propositions (which are all of the `this X is a Y' kind. We could
put it that the proposition is the `thinkable form' of an aspect of
fact.
Here it must be understood that we do not `select' the
propositional form as the best way of thinking about the world
(from some set of options). There are no options; we simply find
that thinking has to be propositional. Thinking must be somebody
thinking something about something (i.e. that this X is a Y). Just
try thinking about something without thinking anything about it!
We might say that the proposition is the `thought-structure' which
renders fact think-about-able.
a) If X is true (or false) then X is a proposition. To have the
concept of proposition is to realise that propositions, and
only propositions, are true or false (and every proposition is
either true or false). It is true if it reflects (corresponds
with) what is the case (fact); it is false if it does not. It
follows, therefore, that every fact (every isolatable aspect of
what is the case, every relationship within the totality of
what is so,) gives rise to one true proposition - and to
limitless false propositions.
And the proposition is the isolation of the `specific fact' in
question.
It is the fact that this pen is blue which renders the
propositions, This pen is red, This pen is green (etc) false.
From which it will be seen that the fact isolated by the
proposition, This pen is green, notwithstanding that it is a
false proposition, is the fact that this pen is blue. Thus, in
our thinking, our formulation of propositions, we are ` imposing
an order on the world' even when we are making mistakes.
b) Now - a rather difficult point which needs careful
consideration. Fact is independent of (prior to) thought -
simply what is so. Thus every relationship within what is so
is (potentially) a fact (an isolatable by proposition). It
therefore follows that for every fact (whether anybody is aware
of it or not) there is a true proposition - what we might call
the `thinkable form of that state of affairs'. It is,
therefore, a misunderstanding of the concept of proposition to
regard a proposition as the thought about a fact; rather we
must regard it as the think-about-ability of a fact. We might put it
that, when somebody `entertains a proposition`, he is able to do so only because of
the existence of a fact (an isolatable aspect of fact) in much
the same way as when somebody entertains guests he is able to do so only because there
are
people available to be entertained.
`There is a thought' implies `There is a thinker', just as
`There is a belief' implies `There is a believer',` There is a
hope' implies `There is a hoper' - etc. But what we are saying
here is that `There is a proposition' does not imply `There is
a proposer', that there is an important sense in which there
are propositions which nobody has ever, as yet, entertained simply because there
are people who could entertain them.
The discomfort people might feel about this is because it seems
to be creating `queer entities', propositions somehow waiting
around to be proposed. But that is not what is being suggested.
The proposition is simply the thinkable form of the
state of affairs. When we think we think in propositions - but
the thinking `consists of' beliefs (doubts, hopes, fears and so
on) and the propositions we think in are simply the structured
content of these beliefs.
[Here it might be helpful to think of patterns. A pattern can
manifest only when something (a piece of cloth or whatever) has
that pattern. But we do not want to say that the cloth is the
pattern. Nor, when we think what kind of thing a pattern is,
do we want to say that the pattern comes into existence only
when it is produced on that piece of cloth].
c) So, the proposition is a `thought structure' - and we must
consider what that structure is. Here we must grapple with the
quite difficult concepts of universals and particulars.
i) We should say `particularness' and `universalness' because
(and here it is highly relevant) all concepts are nesses.
And when we say `a universal' we mean `a ness'.Thus
concepts are all universal concepts.
Since
a. we `think in' nesses (in universals) and
b. we think propositionally
It follows that the `elements' of the proposition must be
universals(nesses).
[Here compare communicating in language by symbols - from which
it follows that the `elements' of a language must be symbols].
ii) But, to think is to think something (general) about
something (specific) - e.g. that this pen is blue. Now,
It is quite easy to see this as `This pen has (the
universal property) blueness' - or rather better, `This
pen is an instance of blueness'. But we are talking about
this pen; we are not saying `This pen-ness is an instance
of blueness' (that would, quite simply, be nonsense).
What we are saying is `This instance of pen-ness (i.e.
this pen) is (also) an instance of blueness (i.e. is
blue)' - and that is perfectly intelligible.
iii) It is the concept of instance (instance-ness,
instantiation) which is the key to the whole understanding
of the universal/particular relationship. To have that
concept is to realise that an instance can only be a
particular instance - and that what it must be a
partcular instance of can only be a universal.
Thus the proposition is the attribution of an additional
(general) universal property (e.g. blueness) to a
particular instance of a universal property (e.g.
pen-ness). It should be clear, then, that the universe is
not `composed of' universals and particulars which somehow
`attach to each other' (as some strange accounts of
universals seem to suggest). There is no universal/particular distinction
in `objective reality' - we
universalise (classify) and we particularise (focus upon a
given instance) and note additional things about it; the
distinction/relationship belongs in the realm of thought.
Indeed, we gain our concepts by abstraction (of the common
elements) from different perceived situations [think again
of the customary complexes which are the bases of our believing] and,
having gained those concepts,
we see as the instances of them those situations from
which the concepts were abstracted. We abstract the
concept pen-ness from our observation of those articles we
subsequently think of as pens (i.e. particular instances
of pen-ness); we abstract the concept blueness from our
observations of what we subsequently think of as blue
objects (particular instances of blueness); we are then
competent to accept the proposition (to believe) that this
pen is blue.
iv) Now, since a particular (the bit the proposition is about)
can only be a particular instance of a universal property,
we can say `this pen' but we can't (intelligibly) say just
`this'; there are no `bare this's'. Here refer back to
the use of ` also' in ii above - This instance of pen-ness
is also an instance of blueness. What is implied here is
that being blue is no part of what counts as being a pen
(if it were, it would be merely tautological). So, on
saying `this pen' are we already incorporating into the
`this' everything (all the characteristics) which (for us)
count as being a pen and observing that this pen (this set
of those characteristics) also happens to be blue (an
instance of blueness).
[Here think very hard about the relevance of the
possibility/necessity relationship - Since it is a pen,
the `pen-ness characteristics' are there of necessity but
its being, or not being, blue is obviously a possibility].
v) Note also the point made at length that complexes are
`composed of' complexes. What any universal term (any
`ness') `names' is a complex. So we can say that
universals are `composed of' universals.
Thus the `particular' in any proposition (the thing the
assertion is made about) can be `broken down' into
`propositional form'. Consider:
a. This tabby is hungry.
b. This cat is a tabby.
c. This animal is a cat.
d. This object is an animal - etc.
It is important to understand this because it is the
`solution' to what might seem to be an awkward problem -
since
a. to think is to think propositionally; there is no
thought `less than' a proposition.
b. a proposition must have two elements - the particular
(the thought about) and the universal (what is
thought about it)
How, then, can we be aware of the particular (as such) in
order to observe something about it?
Here it is crucial to bear in mind that a proposition is a
function of thought - not of language. It is then
realised that in formulating the proposition `This tabby
is hungry' we are already employing the proposition `This
cat is a tabby' (and so on down the line) in the
identification of an instance of a universal kind.
It must be understood that, whether we are thinking about
this tabby, this cat, this animal or whatever, it is
always this instance of that (universal) kind - and the
universal in question must have some degree of complexity
- i.e. be itself expressable as one instance of a kind.
vi) At this point it could be useful to look at connotation
and denotation. This could be considered `out of context' because
the connotation and denotation are of terms (within
languages) and, therefore, in the `communication bag', not
the `thought bag'. There is, however, an important
inter-relation between connotation/denotation and
universal/particular, one which should cast some light on
the points dealt with above.
The connotation of a term is, in effect, the analysis of
the concept signified by that term - so it is really (at a
language level) what counts as one of these. [Indeed, the
connotation is what a dictionary should give you when you
`look up a word to see what it means']. The denotation is
the totality of particular instances in the universe of
that connotation. So, the connotation defines the class
signified by the term; the denotation indicates the total
of individual members (there happens to be) of that class.
So, if we take the connotation, Australian Cabinet
Minister in 1987, the denotation will be Bob Hawk, Bill
Hayden, Paul Keating, etc., etc.
It should be obvious that there is a- kind of inverse
relationship: the more extended the connotation, the less
extensive the denotation. The denotation of `ship' is all
the things in the world that count as ships; when we
`extend the connotation' to `steamship' we, thereby,
narrow down to a sub-division of all the ships - we cut
out the sailing and motor ships.
So - the connotation is always a catalogue of universals
(and, as such, deals in necessities, in what `counts as');
the denotation is always an aggregate of particular
instances (and, as such, deals in possibilities, in what
happens to be the case).
Thus, in identifying something as a tabby (to say `This
tabby is hungry') we are assuming the connotation of
`tabby' - i.e. domestic cat/grey colours/stripes of a
particular kind. Now consider, in the light of this, the
point that (at the propositional level) in `This tabby is
hungry' the particular (this tabby) already `invokes' the
(less precise) proposition this animal is grey, striped,
etc.
vii) To return to universals and particulars - the `order' of
the proposition indicates simply the focal point of the
thinker - which element he is thinking about and which
element is what he is thinking about it. There are no
such orders in `objective reality' - simply two elements
related In a particular way. Imagine that Jones is lying
in the sun and rolls up the paper he was reading into a
tube and puts it to his eye like a telescope (as most of
us have done at some time). He sees a little circle of
blue sky and he says to himself `This sky is blue'. The
sky is what he is talking about (the particular of his
proposition) and the blueness is what he is attributing to
it (this instance of skyness is also an instance of
blueness). But, suppose Jones were a colour-consultant,
might he not just as easily - and just as rightly - say
`This blue is sky - This instance of blueness (unlike
others I have encountered) is also an instance of
skyness'? This illustrates very simply the point that we
do the ordering. In objective reality the interrelationship of the two
`instances' just is there; which
(for him) is ` the thing' and which the `quality of it'
arises from his formulation of the proposition.
d) So what is the logical category of propositions? What can we
intelligibly say about them?
i) They are always the attribution of a universal property to
a particular instance of a different universal property -
so we can ask what particular state of affairs they are
about (what fact they refer to) and what they assert about it.
ii) We can ask about any proposition: `Is it true or false?' -
it must be one or the other and could be either.
iii) We can think of it as the `content' of a belief - any
belief must be propositional. This does not imply,
however, that to contemplate a proposition (i.e. a
possibility) is necessarily to believe it to be true (i.e.
the possibility to be an actuality). -
iv) In communication the `message' is propositional. It
`refers' somebody to a state of affairs by causing him to
formulate the appropriate proposition (about that state of
affairs) - but
v) We cannot ask (intelligibly) `What words does a
proposition contain?'. We are not dealing with words but
with ideas. The same proposition can be `expressed' in
any number of different language forms.
vi) Propositions imply propositions. Implication is
(necessarily) a relationship between propositions. The
proposition that he has a son implies the proposition that
he is a parent. The propositions that Jones believes that
X and that X is so jointly imply the proposition that
Jones knows that X. However, a tautology is not a
proposition; it is merely the uttering of a necessity
produced to look like the statement of a proposition.
`The son has a parent' could not be false - and, therefore
could not be true; it is merely necessary. We cannot,
therefore, ask intelligibly whether a proposition asserts
a necessity or a possibility - to be a proposition it must
assert a possibility to be an actuality.
[There has been in philosophy considerable confusion on
this point, so it needs to be considered very carefully].
vii) We cannot ask intelligibly whether a proposition is
intelligible. Here think again of the `verifiability
criterion of intelligibly'. Any assertion is intelligible
to Jones only insofar as Jones knows, in sense-experience
terms, what situation would count for him as that
assertion being true and what situation(s) would count for
him as that assertion being false.
A proposition must `propose' something; if it were not
intelligible there would be nothing proposed.
Thus there can be nonsense utterances - but there cannot
be nonsense propositions. A nonsense utterance precisely
is an utterance which fails to express any proposition, notwithstanding that it is uttered in (grammatically correct) sentences.
viii) A proposition can be stated. Indeed, the `content' of any
statement must be a proposition. We must be quite clear,
however, that it is not being stated that `makes it' a
proposition nor is it how it is stated (if it is) that
makes it the proposition that it is.
Here compare `a game can be played' with `a work can be
dramatised'. In the first of these, the game just is the
playing of it; in the second, the work is what it is (as
a novel) and, as such, `sets the rules' for the
dramatisation. The stating of propositions is like the
dramatisation of novels (not the playing of games) - but
with the odd quirk that we tend to think of the dramatised
version as the novel which is dramatised. (We tend,
however wrongly, to think of the statement as the
proposition).

4. It is now appropriate to switch attention to statements - and here
we move into the realm of communication.
a) The confusion referred to above arises from our tendency to
think of a statement as some kind of entity; it is not an
entity - it is an activity (the playing, not the game). For
there to be a statement, there must be a stater - somebody
stating a proposition. It is better, therefore to think, not
of statements, but of statings. People state propositions
which assert that states of affairs pertain.
A statement is, therefore, potentially a communication. It is
not, however, necessarily a communication, merely the uttering
of a proposition in a way which can enable communication to
occur when the conditions for this are right. A failed attempt
to communicate involves the uttering of statements. And,
indeed, what we usually call `thinking in language' involves
the formulation of statements (though not the uttering of
them). In neither case is communication occurring. Thus,
whilst there cannot be communication without statements, there
can be statements without communication.
Here it is instructive to compare:
i) `I informed Jones but he did not understand me' - which
(by most people's use of `inform') would be contradictory.
ii) `I made a statement but nobody (but me) understood it' -
which is perfectly intelligible - and an all-too-familiar
situation.
Thus, when we say that a statement (a stating) is the uttering
(rendering public) of a proposition (by somebody) - we must
realise that we mean only that it is the rendering of the
proposition in a publicly accessible form. [A piece of land
can be a public park whether the public uses it or not -
provided they are entitled to use it and have access to it].
b) What makes a statement the statement that it is is the
proposition which is stated, not the manner in which it is
stated. The same statement can be made -
i) in any language - note that translation simply is the
expression in one language of a statement uttered in
another -
ii) in many different ways within a given language (provided
the language is complex enough in its `rules') e.g. `The
Bolsheviks murdered Nicholas II' utters the same
proposition (makes the same statement) as `The man who was
Czar of Russia in 1917 was illegally killed by the
Bolsheviks'. We are not here concerned with whether the
proposition is true [people might well argue about the
legality]; we are concerned only with the identity of the
statement (in the two forms). So, let us say simply that
a statement is a potential message (formulated by an
individual) which purports to express a true proposition.
c) There is, then, plainly a sense in which communication is
`composed of' statements in a way exactly parallel with that in
which thought is `composed of' propositions.
As propositions are manifested in believings (the `thinking
process') - so statements are manifested in the use of symbols
(the `communicating process').
So - stating (making statements) is the act of communicating
(or attempting to communicate).
We might well say that, just as propositions are the
`thinkability of' facts, so statements are the `communicability
of' propositions.
d) It is here desirable to clear away a possible confusion arising
from misunderstanding of the inter-relationship between
statements and sentences (between communication and language -
the achievement and the mode of that achievement). In the
study of language (as such - e.g. `doing grammar') it is usual
for distinctions to be made between what are here called
statements and other kinds of significant utterences - e.g.
questions, orders, ejaculations. `This is a pen' is plainly a
different communication from `Is this a pen?' or `Pass me a
pen' or `What a lousy pen!'. But they are not different kinds
of communication. To communicate is to state a proposition
and be understood). And a proposition can only be that X is
Y.
As we have seen, a language can be any set of rules - so long
as they work. And in English (and most other natural
languages) rules have developed for the speedy transmission of
certain kinds of information - but what is transmitted must be
information, and information is propositional. So the
information `I do not know whether this is a pen and hope that
you can inform me whether it is or not' is conveyed by the
symbol `Is this a pen?', the information `I want a pen and
demand that you provide me with one' by `Pass me a pen', the
information `I am disappointed by the performance of this pen'
by `What a lousy pen.' - etc. In philosophy many red-herrings
have been drawn across the thought/language relationship by
people who have simply not grasped the categorial difference
between statements and sentences. Dealing with language as
such, it is quite proper, indeed essential, to distinguish
different sentential forms. But this does not imply that there
exist some intrinsically non-propositional statements or that
communication includes some non-statements, or that some
propositions vary from the `that X is Y' format.
Always what is stated is that a state of affairs pertains -
i.e. that a possibility is an actuality. It follows, then,
that any statement is intelligibly contradictable - it
publicly proposes that something is the case when it might or
might not be the case. With this in mind, consider some
possible states of affairs:
i) that the window is closed -
ii) that Jones believes that the window is open but is wrong -
iii) that, if the window is opened, there will be a draught -
iv) that, if Jones is married, then he must have a spouse.
All of these are statable - because all of these are
possibilities. i and ii present no problems. iii is more
complex, but it is plainly asserting a ` causal relationship' so
that it can, quite simply, be contradicted (denied) by anyone
who makes a different inference. The problem people may feel
is with iv. Here we have what has to date been called a
statement of a necessity. But what we are doing is stating that it is a necessity
that if Jones is married Jones has a
spouse. And it is now time to front up to the difficult point
that nothing can be a necessity of necessity.
Remember - concepts are individual people's concepts and
reasoning is individual people's reasoning. So, to say that
the denial of an assertion is literally unthinkable may or may
not be true. If Jones told us that, since he is a parent, he
must have a son - then we would all say `Silly Jones - he
believes that is necessary when it is not - having a daughter
is still being a parent'.
Thus, whereas (we all agree) `A son has a parent' is not a
statement at all, merely a tautology, `If anyone is a son then,
of necessity, he must have a parent' is in fact a statement
that `a son has a parent' is mere tautology which it might not
be (we could all be wrong in the way that Jones was in his
assertion).
[What we are looking at here is the `problem' that the validity
of logic cannot be demonstrated by logic - we cannot invoke a
particular law to prove that it is a good law! Logic (the
acceptance of necessities) must, therefore, be intuitive and,
as such, by its own rules, possibly right and possibly wrong.
This in no way affects our `psychological compulsion' to accept
it as right - but this does not seem to be different in any
relevant way from our psychological compulsion to believe -
e.g. that we are awake and observing, not asleep and dreaming.
[This, however, should perhaps be noted as an area for further
analytical enquiry at a later stage of philosophical
development and, for the present, in case people are getting
worried about their grasps on reality, they should be reminded
that, although we always could be wrong, we very rarely are].
e) To return to more straightforward matters, let us go through
the exercise of considering what assertions can, and cannot, be
made intelligibly about statements -
i) Plainly, a statement, as such, is not true or false. The
proposition stated is what is true or false. A statement
(a stating of a proposition to somebody) is an action and,
as such, not the `kind of thing' to which trueness or
falseness can apply. Even so, so long as people do
realise this, it would be pedantic to object to the
expression `A false statement'. This is simply a
` language rule' for `the stating of a false proposition'.
ii) The same applies to the expressions `a foolish statement'
or `a wise statement'. It is the stater that is wise or
foolish - compare `an energetic leap over the puddle'.
Note, by contrast, that it does make sense to speak of a
long statement or a short statement - here we are talking
of the stating not of the stater.
iii) We may also speak of a clear statement or an unclear
statement - so long as we are aware in doing so that we
are making this judgement from the `receiver end'; we are
saying `It is (or is not) clear to me what he is stating at
the level of precision which I assume he intends'.
iv) A statement may be comparatively simple or complex. We
can say `Jones's statements were too complex for me; I did
not understand him'. But they could not be too complex
for Jones - or they could not be statements (of
propositions). We cannot ask whether a statement is
intelligible to the utterer since it is his stating of a
proposition (however complex) and there cannot be an
unintelligible proposition (refer back to the
verifiability criterion of intelligibility).
v) A statement must be uttered in a language - but in any
language. The language employed merely conveys the
statement (in communication); it is the proposition
conveyed, not the sentence which conveys it, which governs
what the statement is.
[Here, think again of the `four terms' of communication]

5. So, let us now turn to language, the mode of communication, and
sentences, the (symbol-token) units within the language.
a) In a complex language (like English) the connotation and
denotation of terms, along with sequencing and punctuation, are
the `rules' which give significance to the symbol-tokens - the
sentences. Note again the relationship between the connotation
and denotation of terms and the particular and universal
functions of the elements (this X is Y) of the proposition (the
content of the message - that information about the world which
is stated when a statement is made by somebody).
Proposition: this instance of X-ness happens to be an instance
of Y-ness.
Sentence: This unit of the denotation of `X' (subject) happens
to be an instance of the connotation (unit of the denotation)
of `Y' (predicate).
[This is what people have referred to when they have spoken of
language `mirroring' reality (or thought about it)].
But, as we have seen, it is the sentence which is the
symbol-token - the relating of two (or more) terms in a way
that represents the relationship between the elements of the
proposition (and, thereby, the relationship which pertains in
objective reality).
So we might say that a language is `composed of' sentences in
the same way as thought is `composed of' propositions and
communication is `composed of' statements.
It was pointed out (4 c) above) that statements are the act of
communicating; we can now see that sentences are the mode of
communicating.
b) But - just as a statement may or may not achieve
communinication, so a sentence may or may not convey a
statement.
Remember that a sentence is a symbol-token functioning as such
according to the rules of the language in question. What makes
it a sentence, therefore, is its adherence to those rules, not
its actual functioning as a conveyor of an intelligible
statement about the world. Thus, whereas:
i) Every statement which is communicated must be conveyed by
a sentence - nevertheless
ii) It does not follow that every sentence must convey - or
even be capable of conveying - a statement.
Think again of the `sentence form' which `reflects' the
`propositional form' (what we call in grammatical studies
subject/predicate). `Last Tuesday fell down the stairs' is a
perfectly good sentence it has a subject and a predicate
which includes a verb. But it conveys no statement - there is
no expression here of a `thinkable' - a proposition about the
world.
Here two important points should be noted:
i) That a nonsense-sentence of this kind is possible only in
a highly complex language - like English. In a very
simple language - like race-course tick-tack or
international maritime code - it is not possible to
`transmit nonsense' since each symbol-token has its fixed
significance (the proposition asserted). The only
nonsense possible here is the simultaneous display of two
contradictory messages - like `I am entering port' and `I
am departing from port'.
In effect, this is what a `nonsense sentence' in English
is doing. Here refer back to the discussion (3 c) v
above) of the `propositional nature' of the particular
(the subject) within the proposition. You will then
realise that `Last Tuesday fell down the stairs' is in
fact asserting:
a. Tuesday was a day last week
b. Some (physical) object fell down the stairs
c. Tuesday was that object.
And it is only because a. and b. are quite simply
intelligible to us that we recognise immediately that they
are incompatible - that c. is not thinkable.
ii) Thus it is possible for us to say what we cannot think -
to `illustrate' the unthinkable. We are not dealing with
a `self-contradictory proposition' - there could be no
such thing; we are dealing with two propositions, seen
intuitively to be incompatible with each other.
So the fact that we can, by the rules, have a nonsense-
sentence enables us (in a sophisticated language) to
discuss nonsense (absurdity) and contrast it with the
intelligible - but it does not imply that there must be
`nonsense (absurd) statements'. [Indeed `This is a
nonsense statement' is itself a nonsense sentence!]
e) Let us now round things off by considering what can and can't
intelligibly be said about sentences -
i) Plainly they are not true or false - the statements they
convey can be expressing true or false propositions.
ii) A sentence is an entity (a symbol-token), not a function -
though it has a function, to render possible the
conveyance of a statement, the communication of a (propositional) message.
iii) As an `entity' it can be elegant or inelegant (the
province of literary aesthetics) or effective or
ineffective (the province of communication skills). When
people say `Let me put that differently' they mean `Let me
use a better sentence to convey that same statement'.
iv) Since it is a mode of utterance, a sentence must be a
perceptible - but it could be any kind of perceptible. We
think of sentences being seen or heard. But they can be
felt, as in Braille. Indeed, in principle it would be
quite possible to formulate a language of smells or tastes
and, if this were done, particular combinations of odours
or of savours, would then be sentences within those
languages.
v) As seen (in b) above), we can ask intelligibly whether a
sentence is intelligible. A statement cannot be made
without a sentence being employed, but a sentence can be
uttered (and registered as a sentence) without any
statement being made. We could, if we wish, say that a
nonsense sentence `conveys' a psuedo-statement.

6. So - to summarise:
a) Sentences are the symbol-tokens within languages. As such they
can convey statements in communication. Thus they are the
modes of stating.
b) Statements are the statings by people that particular states of
affairs pertain - i.e. that particular possibilities are
actualities. Statements express propositions.
c) Propositions are the `thinkable forms' of states of affairs (of
facts). They are, therefore, the `content' of beliefs and are
either true or false - dependent upon what is the fact.
d) Facts are those `segments' or `aspects' of fact isolated by the
formulation of propositions. Fact is simply the totality of
what is so.
