The first great pitfall from which such a radical standing by experience will save us is an artificial conception of the _relations between knower and known_. Throughout the history of philosophy the subject and its object have been treated as absolutely discontinuous entities; and thereupon the presence of the latter to the former, or the 'apprehension' by the former of the latter, has assumed a paradoxical character which all sorts of theories had to be invented to overcome. Representative theories put a mental 'representation,' 'image,' or 'content' into the gap, as a sort of intermediary. Common-sense theories left the gap untouched, declaring our mind able to clear it by a self-transcending leap. Transcendentalist theories left it impossible to traverse by finite knowers, and brought an Absolute in to perform the saltatory act. All the while, in the very bosom of the finite experience, every conjunction required to make the relation intelligible is given in full. Either the knower and the known are: (1) the self-same piece of experience taken twice over in different contexts; or they are (2) two pieces of _actual_ experience belonging to the same subject, with definite tracts of conjunctive transitional experience between them; or (3) the known is a _possible_ experience either of that subject or another, to which the said conjunctive transitions _would_ lead, if sufficiently prolonged. To discuss all the ways in which one experience may function as the knower of another, would be incompatible with the limits of this essay.[30] I have just treated of type 1, the kind of knowledge called perception.[31] This is the type of case in which the mind enjoys direct 'acquaintance' with a present object. In the other types the mind has 'knowledge-about' an object not immediately there. Of type 2, the simplest sort of conceptual knowledge, I have given some account in two [earlier] articles.[32] Type 3 can always formally and hypothetically be reduced to type 2, so that a brief description of that type will put the present reader sufficiently at my point of view, and make him see what the actual meanings of the mysterious cognitive relation may be. Suppose me to be sitting here in my library at Cambridge, at ten minutes' walk from 'Memorial Hall,' and to be thinking truly of the latter object. My mind may have before it only the name, or it may have a clear image, or it may have a very dim image of the hall, but such intrinsic differences in the image make no difference in its cognitive function. Certain _extrinsic_ phenomena, special experiences of conjunction, are what impart to the image, be it what it may, its knowing office.