The notion is very common among idealists that we can never go beyond our subjective states of consciousness. This would be tantamount to saying that there is no difference between dreams and real life, except that a dream is cut off by awaking while life lasts comparatively much longer and ceases with death, which may also be an awakening from a dream. In that case hallucinations would be of the same value as sensations. Both would be interpretations of facts for which we do not have an objective criterion of truth. Interpretations of facts would be the sole facts, and it would be quite indifferent whether they were misinterpretations or correct interpretations.

Take a simple instance. We see a tree. The perception of a tree is an interpretation of a set of facts. Interpretations of facts, whether correct or not, are of course also facts. Thus the perception of a tree is a fact which, if all matter were transparent, would, physiologically considered, appear to the eye of an observer as special vibrations in the brain. But the peculiarity of this fact is that it represents other facts. The question is no longer whether there is a perception of a tree taking place in a brain, but whether this perception is true, i. e., whether it agrees with the facts represented. Every perception has a meaning beyond itself; every perception is a fact representing other facts, and the question of truth or untruth has reference to the agreement between representations and facts represented.

Professor Mach says in his essay "The Analysis of Sensations" (The
Monist
, Vol. I. No. I, p. 65):

"Bodies do not produce sensations, but complexes of sensations
(complexes of elements) form bodies."[53]

[53] Professor Mach in thus speaking of bodies uses the word in the sense of representations and not in the sense of objects represented. He calls them in the sentence next following "thought-symbols for complexes of sensations (complexes of elements)."

And, certainly, we do not deny that upon a closer analysis the perception of a tree appears as a bundle, or a complex of sensations; there is the green of the leaves, the color of the bark, the different shades of the color indicating its bodily form, the shape of the branches, and their slight motions in the breeze that gently shakes the tree. Yet the perception of a tree does not consist of these sensations alone. All these sensations might be so many isolated sensations; and if they remained isolated, they would not produce the percept of a tree. These sensations are interpreted; they have acquired a meaning and are combined into a unity. It is this unity which constitutes the perception of a tree. This unity has grown from sensations; and that process which develops and, as we have learned, naturally must develop sensations from sense-impressions, and from sensations perceptions that are representative of a group of facts outside of the perceptions themselves,—that process we define as mind-activity.

What does the 'perception of a tree' mean? It means that if the person perceiving it moves in a certain direction and over a certain distance, he will have certain sensations which upon the whole can be correctly anticipated. Every perception and also every sensation contains a number of anticipations. The perception of a tree is in so far to be considered correct, as the anticipations which it contains, and of which it actually consists, can be realised. If and in so far as these anticipations when realised tally with the perception, if and in so far as they justify it, or can justify it, if and in so far as they fulfil the expectations produced by the perception, if and in so far as they make no alteration of the perception necessary, but being in agreement with it confirm the representation it conveys: the perception is said to be true. Moreover, we can predict similar results with regard to beings of a similar constitution.

* * * * *

Now let us suppose that an apple falls from a considerable height to the ground. Knowing, from former experiences, the hardness of the soil as well as the density of the apple, we can anticipate the effect of the fall. The soil will not show any considerable impression, yet one side of the apple will be crushed. In predicting this result we anticipate sensations that we shall have under a certain set of circumstances. In so far as we shall necessarily have these sensations we have to deal with facts. Not as if our sensations constitute the entire existence of facts; our sensations, being the effects of so-called objective processes upon our senses, are only one end of a relation, which as a matter of course never exists without the other end. Sensations are the one end; they depend upon and vary with the other end. Showing within certain limits as many varieties here as occur there, they represent the other end.

We can, and for certain purposes we must, entirely eliminate the subjective and sensory part of our sensations, in order to represent in our minds not how two objects affect our senses of sight or touch but how two or more objects affect each other. Thus we arrive at an objective statement of facts, how the falling apple affects the soil, and the soil the apple; while the relation of both to our senses is to be eliminated. This objective statement of facts is the ideal of all natural sciences. The physicist states the interaction between the falling apple and the soil. He does not care how many sentient beings witness the fall; he does not care about the psychological element in their observations. He abstracts from the subjective elements in their observations as well as in his own, and confines his attention to the objective facts represented in their minds.