VOLUNTARY MOTION. 451 



" James H. Prior, of St. Louis, has an adopted daughter, of thirteen years, 

 who performs wonderful gymnastic feats in her sleep. Finding her room 

 vacant one night, Mr. Prior began a search, which resulted in discovering her 

 walking along a narrow iron railing which protected a gallery running the entire 

 width of the house. When she reached the end of the railing she deliberately 

 turned and walked back. This she performed with grace and apparent careless- 

 ness. In the mean time Mr. Prior, fearing that if he moved it would startle the 

 girl, and she would fall to the paved yard below, remained quiet while she con- 

 tinued her perilous walk. In a few moments she seemed to be satisfied, and, 

 carefully stepping to a chair, reached the floor, and glided slowly by Mr. Prior, 

 down the hallway into her apartment and bed, where she was soon sleeping 

 sweetly. At another time, Mr. and Mrs. Prior found the girl had crawled 

 through the skylight, and was promenading the length of the roof-ridge. She 

 was walking with her hands hanging listlessly by her side, and her head inclined 

 forward as if she were looking immediately in front of her feet. The moon was 

 shining brightly, and the white, lithe form of the sleeping girl could have been 

 seen a block distant. There was a chimney half-way to the ridge, and some- 

 times she made detours to the right or to the left, going completely around the 

 obstruction, regaining the ridge and traversing its entire length. Once she 

 leaned on a chimney, and seemed absorbed in meditation. Each time she reached 

 the end of the roof it appeared to be her deliberate purpose to walk off, but she 

 always checked herself when within a foot of the edge, and, slowly turning, 

 carefully retraced her steps. Twice she descended on the incline of the roof, 

 each time returning to the ridge very rapidly, as if she had met with something 

 that excited her fears. Several times she looked up, as if gazing at the stars or 

 listening to some distant sounds. Suddenly, while at the point of the ridge, 

 which she had first reached, she began to descend in the direction of the sky- 

 light, taking each step with great caution and making slow progress. "When 

 she had nearly reached the opening Mr. Prior quietly withdrew. In a moment 

 Laura followed, proceeding at once to the garret-stairs, and disappearing down 

 the dark passage. Mr. and Mrs. Prior followed, keeping behind her as close as 

 possible, but, before they could reach her, she was in her own room, and com- 

 posing herself in bed." 



Whatever voluntary muscular movements we may make, therefore 

 be they ever so new and wonderful to ourselves or to others we make 

 because we can ; because they are already accomplished facts packed 

 up in our inherited organization. The truth of this proposition makes 

 its converse also true, and the proposition itself receives additional con- 

 firmation from the truth of the converse, namely, whatever muscular 

 movements are beyond our voluntary control are so because they 

 are not accomplished facts in our inherited organization. Take, for 

 example, the familiar, schoolboy, muscular puzzle, which seems to be a 

 very simple movement, and very easy of execution ; yet we doubt 

 whether it has ever been really mastered, even after the most protracted 

 efforts, so that it could be executed with the automatic ease and dex- 

 terity with which we execute our voluntary movements. It is easy 

 enough to extend the forefinger of the right hand, and revolve it rap- 

 idly so as to describe a cylinder as it moves ; it is also easy to do the 

 same thing with the forefinger of the left hand ; and it is equally easy 



