Sensory Data Serving as Signs of Various Sorts of Fact
Among facts perceived, we may list things and events, and their qualities and relations. Under "things" we here include persons and animals and everything that would ordinarily be called an "object". Under "events", we include movement, change and happenings of all sorts. Under [{438}] "qualities" we may include everything that can be discovered in a thing or event taken by itself, and under "relations" anything that can be discovered by comparing or contrasting two things or events. The "groups" that we have several times spoken of as being observed would here be included under "things"; but the strict logic of the whole classification is not a matter of importance, as the only object in view is to call attention to the great variety of facts that are perceived.
Now the question arises, by what signs or indications these various facts are perceived. Often, as we have seen, the fact is by no means fully presented to the senses, and often it is far from easy for the perceiver to tell on what signs the perception depends. He knows the fact, but how he knows it he cannot tell. A large part of the very extensive experimental investigation of perception has been concerned with this problem of ferreting out the signs on which the various perceptions are based, the precise stimuli to which the perceptions respond.
For example, we can examine objects by feeling of them with a stick held in the hand, and thus perceive their roughness or smoothness; but how do we sense these facts? It seems to us as if we felt them with the end of the stick, but that is absurd, since there are no sense organs in the stick. It must be that we perceive the roughness by means of sensations arising in the hand and arm, but to identify these sensations is a much harder task than to discover the objective fact of roughness.
Again, we distinguish the tones of two musical instruments by aid of their overtones, but elaborate experiments were required to prove this, since ordinarily we do not distinguish the overtones, and could simply say that the instruments sounded differently, and let it go at that.
Once more, consider our ability to perceive time intervals; [{439}] and to distinguish an interval of a second from one of a second and a quarter. How in the world can any one perceive time? Time is no force that could conceivably act as a stimulus to a sense organ. It must be some change or process that is the stimulus and that serves as the indication of duration. Most likely, it is some muscular or internal bodily change, but none of the more precise suggestions that have been offered square with all the facts. It cannot be the movements of breathing that give us our perception of time, for we can hold our breath and still distinguish one short interval from another. It cannot be the heart beat, for we can beat time in a rhythm that cuts across the rate of the heart beat. When a singer is accompanying himself on the piano, keeping good time in spite of the fact that the notes are uneven in length, and meanwhile using his feet on the pedals, what has he got left to beat time with? No one has located the stimulus to which accurate time perception responds, though, in a general way, we are pretty sure that change of one sort or another is the datum. With longer intervals, from a minute to several hours, the sign of duration is probably the amount happening in the interval, or else such progressive bodily changes as hunger and fatigue.