|
1. As when I was writing about things, I introduced the subject
with a warning against attending to anything but what they are in
themselves, even though they are signs of something else, so now,
when I come in its turn to discuss the subject of signs, I lay down
this direction, not to attend to what they are in themselves, but to
the fact that they are signs, that is, to what they signify. For a
sign is a thing which, over and above the impression it makes on the
senses, causes something else to come into the mind as a consequence of
itself: as when we see a footprint, we conclude that an animal whose
footprint this is has passed by; and when we see smoke, we know that
there is fire beneath; and when we hear the voice of a living man, we
think of the feeling in his mind; and when the trumpet sounds,
soldiers know that they are to advance or retreat, or do whatever else
the state of the battle requires.
2. Now some signs are natural, others conventional. Natural signs
are those which, apart from any intention or desire of using them as
signs, do yet lead to the knowledge of something else, as, for
example, smoke when it indicates fire. For it is not from any
intention of making it a sign that it is so, but through attention to
experience we come to know that fire is beneath, even when nothing but
smoke can be seen. And the footprint of an animal passing by belongs
to this class of signs. And the countenance of an angry or sorrowful
man indicates the feeling in his mind, independently of his will: and
in the same way every other emotion of the mind is betrayed by the
tell-tale countenance, even though we do nothing with the intention of
making it known. This class of signs, however, it is no part of my
design to discuss at present. But as it comes under this division of
the subject, I could not altogether pass it over. It will be enough
to have noticed it thus far.
|
|