In the present century philosophers have been extremely interested in language. To the layman this interest often seems curious, if not down-right perverse. After all, there are so many aspects of reality that seem more important than questions about words and meanings: are not the nature of the cosmos, the foundations of knowledge, the present plight of mankind, all more fitting subjects for philosophical essays?

In part this attitude rests on a misconception of the nature of philosophy. Philosophy is often the starting point for what eventually turn out to be new consensuses in science and in human affairs; but the starting point is usually dry and technical. Bacon paved the way for all of modern empirical science by arguing that scientists should put their questions to nature, and not to the a priori intellect; but it was Newton and not Bacon who discovered the law of Universal Gravitation. Locke paved the way for the ideologues of the American revolution; but he did not make it. To be sure the plight of mankind may yet be improved (or made worse!) by a new consensus in morals or in politics arising out of philosophical ideas being published right now; but one must not expect technical philosophical books to bear their social significance on their sleeves (or dust jackets). If philosophers have become very interested in language in the past fifty years it is not because they have become disinterested in the Great Questions of philosophy, but precisely because they are still interested in the Great Questions and because they have come to believe that language holds the key to resolve (or in some way satisfactorily dispose of) the Great Questions.