ut, the real things which we can
directly know or of which we can definitely know something. In some
sense it must be given in our experience, if the things which are in
it, and are known to be in it, are given in our experience. How must
we think of this real space?

Suppose we look at a tree at a distance. We are conscious of a certain
complex of color. We can distinguish the kind of color; in this case,
we call it blue. But the quality of the color is not the only thing
that we can distinguish in the experience. In two experiences of color
the quality may be the same, and yet the experiences may be different
from each other. In the one case we may have more of the same
color--we may, so to speak, be conscious of a larger patch; but even if
there is not actually more of it, there may be such a difference that
we can know from the visual experience alone that the touch object
before us is, in the one case, of the one shape, and, in the other
case, of another. Thus we may distinguish between the _stuff_ given in
our experience and the _arrangement_ of that stuff. This is the
distinction which philosophers have marked as that between "matter" and
"form." It is, of course, understood that both of these words, so
used, have a special sense not to be confounded with their usual one.

This distinction between "matter" and "form" obtains in all our
experiences. I have spoken just above of the shape of the touch object
for which our visual experiences stand as signs. What do we mean by
its shape? To the plain man real things are the touch things of which
he has experience, and these touch things are very clearly
distinguishable from one another in shape, in size, in position, nor
are the different parts| of the things to be confounded with each
other. Suppose that, as we pass our hand over a table, all the
sensations of touch and movement which we experience fused into an
undistinguishable mass. Would we have any notion of size or shape? It
is because our experiences of touch and movement do not fuse, but
remain distinguishable from each other, and we are conscious of them as
_arranged_, as constituting a system, that we can distinguish between
this part of a thing and that, this thing and that.

This arrangement, this order, of what is revealed by touch and
movement, we may call the "form" of the touch world. Leaving out of
consideration, for the present, time relations, we may say that the
"form" of the t