which is inside the mind than it is to the other? If it may really be
said to be at the end of the nerve, why may we not know it quite as
well as we do the end of the nerve, or any other mental construct?

It must be clear to the careful reader of Professor Pearson's
paragraphs, that he does not confine himself strictly to the world of
mere "projections," to an outer world which is really _inner_. If he
did this, the distinction between inner and outer would disappear. Let
us consider for a moment the imprisoned clerk. He is in a telephone
exchange, about him are wires and subscribers. He gets only sounds and
must build up his whole universe of things out of sounds. Now we are
supposing him to be in a telephone exchange, to be receiving messages,
to be building up a world out of these messages. Do we for a moment
think of him as building up, out of the messages which came along the
wires, those identical wires which carried the messages and the
subscribers which sent them? Never! we distinguish between the
exchange, with its wires and subscribers, and the messages received and
worked up into a world. In picturing to ourselves the telephone
exchange, we are doing what the plain man and the psychologist do when
they distinguish between mind and body,--they never suppose that the
messages which come through the senses are identical with the senses
through which they come.

But suppose we maintain that there is no such thing as a telephone
exchange, with its wires and subscribers, which is not to be found
within some clerk. Suppose the real external world is something
_inner_ and only "projected" without, mistakenly supposed by the
unthinking to be without. Suppose it is nonsense to speak of a wire
which is not in the mind of a clerk. May we under such circumstances
describe any clerk as _in a telephone exchange_? as _receiving