Duhaime 1 Douglas Duhaime 5 January 2011 Reading Wittgenstein Reading Tolstoy: Saying and Showing in The Three Hermits

Were it not for Leo Tolstoy, there might not have been a Ludwig Wittgenstein to speak of today. According to a number of Wittgenstein scholars, the testimonies of Wittgenstein's colleagues at Cambridge, and Wittgenstein himself, Tolstoy saved the Austrian philosopher's life during the First World War (Monk 115-7). Reading Tolstoy's Gospel in Brief in trenches on the Russian front, Wittgenstein found a religious spirit that prevented him from committing suicide and radically reshaped his doctoral dissertation, the Tractatus Logico-Philosophicus. What was at first a treatise on the limitations of propositions soon became an exploration of ethics and what Wittgenstein called the higher values. After the war, Wittgenstein continued pursuing the higher values in Tolstoy's texts, reading with particular interest Tolstoy's short stories (McGuinness 273). Of those stories, John King and others recall that Wittgenstein most admired Tolstoy's story of the three hermits (Rhees 86, 101).1 Reading The Three Hermits today, we find that it exemplifies the theory of saying and showing that both Tolstoy and Wittgenstein pursued. In what follows, I shall attempt to elucidate this theory of saying and showing as well as the role it plays in each writer's works. I shall begin with The Gospel in Brief, the text wherein Tolstoy suggests that the value of Christian thinking cannot be meaningfully said but only shown. Next I shall turn to Wittgenstein to examine the ways the ethical theory in the Tractatus builds upon Tolstoy's distinction between what can be said and what must be shown. Finally, I shall turn to Tolstoy's Three Hermits to investigate the ways the text exemplifies the discussion of ethics in the Tractatus. By tracing a circuitous path from Tolstoy to Wittgenstein back to Tolstoy, this study seeks to uncover both the insights that Wittgenstein drew from literary readings as well as the insights that literary readings can draw from Wittgenstein.

Duhaime 2 In his 1883 volume The Gospel in Brief, Tolstoy synthesized the four canonical Gospels into a single narrative of Christ's life. Tolstoy's Gospel elides the supernatural events in Christ's life, cutting the birth, miracles, and resurrection of Jesus in order to focus on Christ's teachings. In addition to cutting material from the original Gospels, Tolstoy also adds a certain amount to the life of Christ. Throughout the text, Tolstoy's Christ makes a number of philosophical arguments that are absent from other translations of the Gospels. In particular, Tolstoy's Christ pays a great deal of attention to differentiating the portions in his teaching that can meaningfully be said from those that must be shown. During the Feast of the Tabernacle, for example, Tolstoy's Christ announces that the value of Christian teaching cannot be meaningfully articulated but only shown. There Christ tells his disciples: There can be no proofs of the truth of my teaching, as there cannot be of the illumination of light. My teaching is the real light, by which people tell what is good and what is bad, and therefore it is impossible to prove my teaching; which itself proves everything (Gospel in Brief 356).2 Just as we cannot use light to investigate the ways light illuminates our world, Tolstoy's Christ suggests, we cannot verify a theory of value from inside that theory of value. In other words, Christ cannot draw upon Christian thinking to validate Christian thought. Indeed, he cannot hope to secure the foundations of his teachings from within those teachings at all; he can only hope to show others the value of his teachings. Tolstoy's Christ acknowledges this when he tells his disciples: If I were to assure all that my teaching is true, this would not establish my teaching. But there is that which establishes my teaching; namely, the conduct which I teach (Gospel in Brief 331). Tolstoy's Christ goes on to say: My teaching is true, not because I declare, like Moses, that God spoke with me on Sinai; but it is true because it is in you too (Gospel in Brief 336). According to Tolstoy's Christ, it would be impossible to convince others of the value of his teaching. He could only show others the value of his teaching by acting in ways that others would find agreeable. In

Duhaime 3 this way, he tacitly recognizes the boundary between what can meaningfully be said and what cannot be said but must be shown, a boundary the young Wittgenstein would later pursue with great interest.3 As many scholars have pointed out, The Gospel in Brief had a profound influence on Wittgenstein's Tractatus.4 The story of how Wittgenstein came to possess Tolstoy's text helps to illuminate the mystical connection Wittgenstein felt between himself and Tolstoy. While serving as a volunteer soldier in Tarnow, Poland, Wittgenstein came across a bookstore that contained just one book: Tolstoy on the Gospel (Letters to Russell 82). He bought the book because there was no other. He read it and re-read it, and thenceforth had it always with him, under fire and at all times (Letters to Russell 82).5 Eventually Wittgenstein became so familiar with Tolstoy's text that he came to know whole passages of it by heart (Monk 116), and would recite Tolstoy's words over and over again in [his] head while under fire (Wittgenstein qtd. McGuinness 221). Indeed, after the war, Wittgenstein recalled that Tolstoy's book kept [him] alive while he was a soldier (Janik 201, Briefe an Ludwig 28). Like Tolstoy, Wittgenstein was interested in separating what can be said from what must be shown. In fact, in a letter to Bertrand Russell, Wittgenstein claimed that clarifying the line between the expressible and the inexpressible would resolve all of the problems of philosophy (Letters to Russell 71). He attempted to clarify this line in his Tractatus, where he advanced a theory of what can be expressed [gesagt] by prop[osition]s so as to illustrate what cannot be expressed by prop[osition]s, but only shown [gezeigt] (Letters to Russell 71). Wittgenstein began outlining his theory of the expressible and the inexpressible shortly after reading Tolstoy's Gospel in Brief (see McGuinness 210 et seq). Rereading the Tractatus today, we find that it builds upon and clarifies the theory of saying and showing present in Tolstoy's Gospel. In the Tractatus, Wittgenstein separates the expressible from the inexpressible in his

Duhaime 4 picture theory of language, which works in roughly the following way. First, Wittgenstein writes that the world can be broken down into states of affairs, where a state of affairs is a particular arrangement of objects in the world. According to the Tractatus, propositions represent, or picture, states of affairs. These pictures (Bildungen)6 share a logical form with the states of affairs they depict (TLP 2.1-2.2). The Tractatus attempts to illustrate the concept of picturing with an example of a gramophone recording and a musical score. According to the Tractatus, a gramophone recording is a picture of a musical score because the recording shares a logical form with the score (TLP 4.014). Given a gramophone recording, one can derive the score; given a copy of the score, one can produce the recording (TLP 4.0141). In this sense, the two share a unified internal logic, and the one form is a picture of the other (TLP 2.18). The Tractatus places certain restrictions on these pictures, and these restrictions help illustrate the distinction Wittgenstein makes between what a proposition can say and what a proposition must show. According to the Tractatus, a proposition cannot say how it reaches out to the world; it can only show how it reaches out to the world. This idea is exemplified by the limitations inherent in photographic cameras. A camera cannot take a picture of the mechanisms inside itself that allow the camera to take pictures. A camera can only represent states of affairs outside of the camera. In other words, a camera cannot represent its own method of representation; it can only show its method of representation in the pictures it produces. Likewise, language, for the early Wittgenstein, can never analyze the mechanisms inside language that allow language to represent states of affairs; language can only show that it represents states of affairs in the propositions it produces. This is what Wittgenstein means when he writes: Propositions can represent the whole of reality, but they cannot represent what they must have in common with reality in order to be able to represent it: logical form (TLP 4.12). He makes the same point elsewhere in the Tractatus when he writes: What a model must have

Duhaime 5 in common with reality in order to represent it, is the form of modeling (TLP 2.17). A model cannot, however, model the form of modeling; it displays it (TLP 2.172). Which leads to Wittgenstein's idea that what can be shown cannot be said (TLP 4.1212). Like a camera that is unable to photograph the mechanisms inside itself that allow it to represent states of affairs, language here cannot say how it models reality; it can only show that it models reality. For Wittgenstein, as for Tolstoy, this distinction between what can be said and what must be shown serves as a sort of logical bedrock for ethical thinking. Like Tolstoy, who found that the value of Christian ethics cannot be articulated but only shown, Wittgenstein also finds that ethics cannot be meaningfully discussed but must be shown. Thus Wittgenstein writes, it is impossible for there to be propositions of ethics. Propositions can express nothing that is higher (TLP 6.4). In a series of passages from the notebooks he kept while composing the Tractatus, Wittgenstein explains why it is impossible for there to be propositions of ethics. I am either happy or unhappy, he writes, that is all. It can be said good or evil do not exist (Notebooks 74e). In order to live happily, Wittgenstein writes, I must be in agreement with the world (75e), which means having a clean conscience that is in harmony with the world (75e, 78e). But, Wittgenstein asks, What is the objective mark of the happy, harmonious life? to which he answers: there cannot be any such mark that can be described. This mark cannot be a physical one but only . . . a transcendental one (78e). Because it is impossible to describe the objective features which signify that a subject is in harmony with the world, Wittgenstein concludes that ethics cannot be expressed (78e, TLP 6.421). Ethics, for Wittgenstein, cannot be reduced to categorical imperatives or admonishing propositions; ethics is a matter of listening to one's conscience and living a life in harmony with that conscience. Just what this means, of course, cannot be meaningfully said but only felt and thereafter shown to others.7 Drawing upon Wittgenstein's discussion of the expressible and the inexpressible, we shall

Duhaime 6 presently turn to Tolstoy's Three Hermits to examine the ways the tale exemplifies the ethical theory of the Tractatus. In order to get to the heart of The Three Hermits, I wish to foreground the role the Lord's Prayer plays in the tale. First, though, I must say a few words about the function that the Lord's Prayer plays in The Gospel in Brief. In the preface to his Gospel in Brief, Tolstoy writes that the Lord's Prayer is nothing less than Christ's whole teaching, stated in most concise form (283). He proceeds to break the Lord's Prayer into 12 pieces, claiming that each of these pieces of the Prayer corresponds to a proposition.8 He then uses these pieces of the Prayer and their corresponding propositions as the epigraphs to each of the chapters of his Gospel. By reducing Christ's whole teaching to a dozen propositions, Tolstoy here attempts to say what Wittgenstein claims can only be shown,9 and in doing so, he sets the stage for a more sophisticated treatment of Christian ethicsindeed, a treatment that would earn Wittgenstein's highest praisein The Three Hermits. Whereas The Gospel in Brief suggests that the Lord's Prayer communicates the whole of Christian ethics, The Three Hermits shows that the Prayer has little bearing on ethical questions. The tale describes a Bishop's voyage across the White Sea. During his journey, a sailor on deck tells the Bishop how he once crashed a boat into a small island in the distance, where he was rescued by three hermits. The sailor describes the hermits as humble and holy men who d[o] everything in silence, communicating through gestures and glances rather than words. Intrigued by the sailor's tale, the Bishop asks the ship's captain to take him to the hermits' island. The captain tries to dissuade the Bishop, informing him that the hermits are foolish old fellows, who understand nothing, and never speak a word, but the Bishop is persistent, and the captain acquiesces. The Bishop is rowed ashore, and he introduces himself to the hermits: I have heard, he tells them, that you, godly men, live here saving your own souls, and praying to our Lord Christ . . . . I wished to see you, servants of God, and to do what I can to teach you,

Duhaime 7 also. When the Bishop asks how the hermits pray, one answers, We pray in this way . . . . 'Three are ye, three are we, have mercy upon us.' The Bishop scolds the hermits, telling them that they they do not pray aright, and he proceeds to spend the remainder of the afternoon painstakingly teaching his unwitting disciples the Lord's Prayer. When at last he is confident the hermits have memorized the Prayer, he returns to his ship to continue his journey. Long into the night, the Bishop fixes his eyes on the horizon where the hermits' island drifted out of sight, until that spot turns into a white light. The light grows in size and approaches the boat, until the Bishop realizes that the light is coming from the three hermits, who are running upon the water. When the hermits reach the boat, they tell the Bishop that they have forgotten his teaching, and ask to be taught again. The Bishop realizes that he cannot teach the hermits anything about the Holy Spirit, and he tells them that their their own prayer will reach the Lord. The Bishop begs God for forgiveness, the hermits return to their island, and the story concludes. Wittgenstein was enormously impressed by this tale, perhaps in part because the text's ethical message illuminates the distinction between what can be said and what must be shown. In a letter to Normal Malcolm, Wittgenstein writes: [Tolstoy's] philosophy is most true when it's latent in the story (qtd. Malcolm 38, italics in original)that is, when he describes a life, and we see, rather than are told of, the values it exhibits (McGuinness 110). By depicting a single critical exchange between a Bishop and three hermits, Tolstoy allows the value of hermetic silence to remain latent in his tale. Like the early Wittgenstein, Tolstoy's hermits adopt a quietist position on ethical questions. They do not attempt to articulate ethical propositions; they merely seek to embody ethical positions. The hermits live a humble life together, praying in collective pronouns and silently helping strangers who wash ashore on their island. Tolstoy's Bishop, on the other hand, attempts to teach the Christian ethic to others. In the end, though, his attempts are useless, for we find in Tolstoy's tale, as Wittgenstein found in Tolstoy's Gospel, that the value of

Duhaime 8 Christian ethics cannot be meaningfully articulated; it can only be shown through ethical action. And this is precisely the insight that The Three Hermits leads us to.10 Although Tolstoy's Gospel attempted to reduce Christian ethics to a dozen propositions, The Three Hermits shows us that any such project must necessarily fail, for any attempt to articulate the ethical teachings of Christ will attempt to say what indeed may only be shown. Thus Wittgenstein helps us to see that The Gospel in Briefa text which sits so near the heart of the Tractatuswas only ever a ladder to be climbed up and thenceforth thrown away. For what ultimately matters in Tolstoy's texts and in Wittgenstein's Tractatus is not the lesson that each articulates but rather the spirit that infuses all that each leaves unsaidand the possibility that that spirit will infuse the actions of those who have heard what has been said. Reading The Gospel in Brief in trenches on the Russian front, Wittgenstein found not only a life-saving religious spirit but also a line of demarcation between what can be said and what must be shown. Shortly after reading Tolstoy's Gospel, Wittgenstein clarified the boundary between the effable and the ineffable in his Tractatus, where he found that the higher values in life cannot be articulated in philosophical propositions but only foregrounded by literary methods of exemplarity.11 Rereading Tolstoy vis--vis Wittgenstein today, we find that both authors help us to rethink the possibilities as well as the limitations of ethical discussion in our reading, our writing, and our world.

Duhaime 9 Works Cited Altieri, Charles: Exemplification and Expression A Companion to the Philosophy of Literature. Ed. Garry L. Hagberg and Walter Jost. Oxford: Blackwell, 2010. Barrett, Cyril: Wittgenstein, Leavis, and Literature New Literary History, Vol. 19, No. 2, Wittgenstein and Literary Theory (Winter, 1988), pp. 385-401. Brockhaus, Richard: Pulling up the Ladder: The Metaphysical Roots of Wittgenstein's Tractatus Logico-Philosophicus. La Salle, Open Court: 1991. Eaglestone, Robert: One and the Same? Ethics, Aesthetics, and Truth Poetics Today Vol. 25, No. 4 (2004): 595-606. Edwards, James: Ethics Without Philosophy: Wittgenstein and the Moral Life. Florida UP, 1982. Engelman, Paul: Letters from Ludwig Wittgenstein with a Memoir. New York: Horizon, 1974. Grosholz, Emily: Representation and Productive Ambiguity in Mathematics and the Sciences. Oxford UP, 2007. Hume, David: Enquiries Concerning Human Understanding and Concerning the Principles of Morals. Ed. P.H. Nidditch. Oxford UP, 1975. Janik, Allen and Toulmin, Stephen: Wittgenstein's Vienna. New York: Simon and Schuster, 1973. Kaufmann, Walter: Religion from Tolstoy to Camus. New York: Harper and Row, 1964. Koethe, John: Poetry at One Remove. Micheghan UP, 2000. Leitner, Bernhard: The Architecture of Ludwig Wittgenstein: A Documentation. New York UP, 1976. Lewis, Peter: Wittgenstein, Tolstoy, and Shakespeare Philosophy and Literature Vol. 29 (2005): 241-255. Malcolm, Norman: Wittgenstein: A Memoir. Oxford UP, 2001.

Duhaime 10 McGuinness, Brian: Wittgenstein: A Life. Berkeley: University of California Press, 1988. Milkov, Nikolay: The Meaning of Life: A Topological Approach Analecta Husserliana Vol. 84 (2005): 217-234. Milkov, Nikolay: Tolstoi und Wittgenstein: Einfluss und hnlichkeiten Prima Philosophia Vol. 16 (2003): 187-206. Monk, Ray: Ludwig Wittgenstein: The Duty of Genius. New York: Macmillan, 1990. Pascal, Fania: Wittgenstein: A Personal Memoir Wittgenstein: Sources and Perspectives. Ed. C. G. Luckhardt. Cornell UP, 1979. Rhees, Rush: Recollections of Wittgenstein. Oxford UP, 1984. Rozema, David: 'Tractatus Logico-Philosophicus': A 'Poem' by Ludwig Wittgenstein Journal of the History of Ideas, Vol. 63 No. 2 (2002): 345-363. Schardt, Bill; Large, David: Wittgenstein, Tolstoy, and The Gospel in Brief The Philosopher Vol. 89, No. 2 (2001). Shields, Philip: Logic and Sin in the Writings of Ludwig Wittgenstein. Chicago UP, 1993. Somavilla, Ilse: Spuren Tolstois in Wittgensteins Tagebchern von 1914-1916 Austrian Ludwig Wittgenstein Society Symposium Proceedings (2002): 237-240. Stengel, Kathrin: Ethics as Style: Wittgenstein's Aesthetic Ethics and Ethical Aesthetics Poetics Today Vol. 25, No. 4 (2004): 609-625. Stewart, Stanley: Was Wittgenstein a Closet Literary Critic? New Literary History, Vol. 34, No. 1 (2003): 43-57. Thomas, Emyr: Wittgenstein and Tolstoy: The Authentic Orientation. Religious Studies Vol. 33 (1997): 363-377. Thompson, Caleb: Wittgenstein, Tolstoy and the Meaning of Life Philosophical Investigations Vol. 20, No. 2 (1997): 97-116.

Duhaime 11 Tolstoy, Leo: My Confession, My Religion, The Gospel in Brief. New York: Charles Scribner's Sons, 1923. Tolstoy, Leo: My Confession, My Religion, The Gospel in Brief. Oxford UP, 1974. Von Wright, G.H.: Wittgenstein. Oxford UP, 1982. Wittgenstein, Ludwig: Briefe an Ludwig von Ficker. Salzburg: Otto Mller, 1969. Wittgenstein, Ludwig: Cambridge Letters: Correspondence with Russell, Keynes, Moore, Ramsey and Sraffa. Ed. Brian McGuinness and G.H. von Wright. Oxford: Blackwell, 1995. Wittgenstein, Ludwig: Culture and Value, Ed. G.H. von Wright. Chicago UP, 1980. Wittgenstein, Ludwig: Geheime Tagebcher 1914-1916. Ed. Wilhelm Baum. Berlin: Turia und Kant, 1991. Wittgenstein, Ludwig: Letters to Russell, Keynes and Moore. Ed. G.H. von Wright. Oxford: Blackwell, 1974. Wittgenstein, Ludwig: Notebooks 1914-1916. Ed. G.H. von Wright and G.E.M. Anscombe. Trans. G.E.M. Anscombe. Second Ed. Oxford: Blackwell, 1979. Wittgenstein, Ludwig: Tractatus Logico-Philosophicus. Trans. C. K. Ogden. London: Kegan Paul, Trench, Trubner & Co., 1933. Woodruff, David: Tolstoy and Wittgenstein: The Life Outside of Time The Southern Journal of Philosophy Vol. 60 (2002): 421-435. Zemach, Eddy: Wittgenstein's Philosophy of the Mystical Essays on Wittgenstein's Tractatus. Ed. Copi Beard. New York: Macmillan, 1973.

1 John King writes that Wittgenstein recommended Tolstoy's Twenty Three Tales to him. When King bought the book, Wittgenstein marked those [tales] which he thought most important (Rhees 87). Those tales were: What Men Live By, The Two Old Men, The Three Hermits, and How Much Land Does a Man Need?. King adds: I am not surprised to learn more than forty years later that he liked The Three Hermits best (Rhees 87). 2 To clarify my understanding of the sense of this passage, I wish here to contrast Tolstoy's insight with one of Wittgenstein's insights in Culture and Value. In one fragment of that text, Wittgenstein writes: The historical accounts in the Gospels might, historically speaking, be demonstrably false and yet belief would lose nothing by this: not, however, because it concerns 'universal truths of reason'! Rather, because historical proof (the historical proof-game) is irrelevant to belief (32e). When Tolstoy's Christ says that it is impossible to prove [his] teaching, I do not think he means that it is impossible to prove his teaching merely because historical proof . . . is irrelevant to belief. Were this the case, he would not need to mention that there cannot be proofs of the illumination of light. I think Tolstoy points toward the example of the illumination of light in order to steer us toward the insight that it is impossible to verify a theory of value from within that theory. And I believe this is the insight Wittgenstein has in mind when he writes that the law of induction rests not on logical but psychological grounds (TLP 6.363-6.3631). Because, as Hume showed (29-30), we cannot deduce the law of induction, our only option is to induce the law of induction. But to do so is to beg the question of induction. Thus, Wittgenstein suggests, we cannot arrive at the law of induction from within the logic of the law of induction, but must arrive at the law through a psychological back-door. Emily Grosholz has explored the problem of verifying axiomatic systems such as the Tractatus from within those systems in her volume Productive Ambiguity (51 et seq). 3 Tolstoy also explores the boundary between what can be said and what must be shown in his Confession. There he discusses how he recognized that accepting Christianity would mean leaving the realm of logic and proofs for the realm of transcendent ideas that could not be meaningfully said but only felt and shown. For an analysis of the parallels between Tolstoy's Confession and Wittgenstein's Tractatus, see Caleb Thompson. 4 Some scholars, such as Peter Shields and Walter Kaufmann, argue that Tolstoy left no imprint on Wittgenstein's works. Shields finds that while Tolstoy's works were clearly read by Wittgenstein and in some sense deeply admired by him, there generally appears to be little direct influence (7). Walter Kaufmann has also claimed Wittgenstein's philosophy . . . [does] not reflect Tolstoy's impact (7). Other scholars, such as Emyr Thomas, have argued that while Tolstoy did not influence Wittgenstein, their works show great similarities. The overwhelming majority of scholars, however, including those who were closest to Wittgenstein, have helped show that Wittgenstein was profoundly influenced by Tolstoy's writings. See, in particular, the work of Nikolay Milkov and David Woodruff cited above. 5 The next sentence of Russell's letter reads: But on the whole [Wittgenstein] likes Tolstoy less than Dostoewski (especially Karamazov) (Letters to Russell 82). Fania Pascal, another of Wittgenstein's teachers, suggests that Tolstoy held more sway in Wittgenstein's mind when she recalls that He would view [Dostoevsky] . . . in terms of [Tolstoy] (56). Whichever author Wittgenstein ultimately preferred, it bares noting that like Tolstoy, Dostoevsky contributed significantly to Wittgenstein's religious thinking and played a vital role in Wittgenstein's war-time experience (see in particular Monk 136). 6 For an analysis of the German word Bild and its related forms in the context of Wittgenstein's picture theory of language, as well as a discussion of some possible antecedents of the Tractarian picture theory, see Janik (182-187). 7 I have never been happy with any writer's attempts to articulate what ethics (or, by extension, the domain of das Mystische) meant to Wittgenstein. Of course, if we take the message of the Tractatus seriously, we find that any attempts to meaningfully articulate the scope and stakes of a Wittgensteinian ethics are doomed from the start. Indeed, at the point in his war-time journals where Wittgenstein comes closest to grappling with his transcendental ethics, he concluded : I am conscious of the complete unclarity of all these sentences (Notebooks 79e). 8 See The Gospel in Brief (283). James Edwards and Richard Brockhaus both suggest that Wittgenstein wrote his own version of Tolstoy's propositions in his diary entry of 11 June 1916 (Notebooks 72-3; see Brockhaus 306-7, Edwards 28, 33). This may be right. In fact, it may have been Wittgenstein's attempts to articulate his sense of ethics in this entry which would lead him shortly thereafter to conclude that ethics cannot be expressed (Notebooks 78e). 9 It may seem that I have written a contradiction into my reading of Tolstoy's Gospel. While early in my text I suggest that The Gospel anticipates the ethical argument of the Tractatus, here I suggest that the work attempts to say what Wittgenstein claims can only be shown. This is a tension but not a contradiction. To dissolve this tension, I'll turn to a passage of a letter Wittgenstein wrote to Norman Malcolm: You see, when Tolstoy just tells a story he impresses me infinitely more than when he addresses the reader. When he turns his back to the reader then he seems to me most impressive. Perhaps one day we can talk about this. It seems to me his philosophy is most true when it's latent in the story (qtd. Malcolm 38, italics in original). As I understand it, Tolstoy's Gospel is actually composed of two texts: the introduction, in which Tolstoy addresses the reader, and the narrative of Christ's life, in which Tolstoy's philosophy is latent in the story. While Tolstoy does a great deal of saying in the former, he relies upon literary methods of showing in the latter. Wittgenstein may indeed have had the Gospel in mind when he wrote the portion of the letter quoted above.

10 Thinking along these lines, Cyril Barrett has written that, within Wittgenstein's Tractatus, the 'higher' [values]moral, aesthetic, and religious valuecannot be expressed: [they] can only be shown. Hence the greatest and most profound moral and religious writings are in narrative or poetic form (or both) and are of the highest literary order (390). The Three Hermits shows how moral, aesthetic, and religious values bleed together in Tolstoy's later writings. For an analysis of the intersections of ethics, aesthetics, and religion in Wittgenstein's thinking, see Stengel, Eaglestone, and Zemach (373-5). See also John Koethe's discussion of the Kantian dynamical sublime, which he believes to be intimately connected to Wittgenstein's discussion of the work of art sub specie aeternitatis (80-1). 11 For a lengthier analysis of the ways Wittgenstein draws upon literary methods of exemplarity in both the Tractatus as well as the post-Tractarian work, see Charles Altieri's Exemplification and Expression, cited above.