chanical movements. The effects of a word that we understand
are always mnemic phenomena in the sense explained in Lecture IV, in
so far as they are identical with, or similar to, the effects which the
object itself might have.

So far, all the uses of words that we have considered can be accounted
for on the lines of behaviourism.

But so far we have only considered what may be called the
"demonstrative" use of language, to point out some feature in the
present environment. This is only one of the ways in which language
may be used. There are also its narrative and imaginative uses, as
in history and novels. Let us take as an instance the telling of some
remembered event.

We spoke a moment ago of a child who hears the word "motor" for
the first time when crossing a street along which a motor-car is
approaching. On a later occasion, we will suppose, the child remembers
the incident and relates it to someone else. In this case, both the
active and passive understanding of words is different from what it is
when words are used demonstratively. The child is not seeing a motor,
but only remembering one; the hearer does not look round in expectation
of seeing a motor coming, but "understands" that a motor came at some
earlier time. The whole of this occurrence is much more difficult to
account for on behaviourist lines. It is clear that, in so far as the
child is genuinely remembering, he has a picture of the past occurrence,
and his words are chosen so as to describe the picture; and in so far
as the hearer is genuinely apprehending what is said, the hearer is
acquiring a picture more or less like that of the child. It is true that
this process may be telescoped through the operation of the word-habit.
The child may not genuinely remember the incident, but only have the
habit of the appropriate words, as in the case of a poem which we know
by heart, though we cannot remember learning it. And the hearer also
may only pay attention to the words, and not call up any corresponding
picture. But it is, nevertheless, the possibility of a memory-image in
the child and an imagination-image in the hearer that makes the essence
of the narrative "meaning" of the words. In so far as this is absent,
the words are mere counters, capable of meaning, but not at the moment
possessing it.

Yet this might perhaps be regarded as something of an overstatement. The
words alone, without the use of images, may cause appropriate emotions
and a