March 27, 1879] 



NATURE 



479 



when left uncovered by the receding tide, are probably 

 purely automatic, and completely independent of sensa- 

 tion, consciousness, or will ; and further, that there is 

 probably no difference whatever between these motions 

 and those of the leaves of Dionaa and Drosera which 

 crush insects to death and suck their juices. But though 

 independent of consciousness they are not independent 

 of intelligence : they are instinctive, and instinct is intel- 

 ligence unconscious of itself. All such actions as these 

 are classed as pritnarily automatic, having no relation to 

 consciousness ; but there are also actions which are 

 secondarily automatic, which were once conscious actions 

 but have become unconscious through habit. These 

 habits may become hereditary, forming instincts, and can 

 then in some cases not be distinguished from primary 

 automatism. Elsewhere he speaks of "a principle of 

 intelligence which guides all organic formation and all 

 motor instincts, and finally attains to consciousness in the 

 brains of the higher animals, and to self-consciousness in 

 the brain of man." 



We will now turn to Mr. Butler's work, and see how 

 he deals with these and analogous facts. He first dis- 

 cusses acquired habits, showing that, as we"" do things 

 more and more frequently we do them with less thought 

 and effort, till at last, when we do them perfectly we 

 also do them unconsciously. He then shows that the 

 same law applies to knowledge and beliefs, which are 

 only complete and unwavering, when we have ceased to 

 doubt or to think of reasons or facts in support of them, 

 when, in fact, they have become unconscious. We then 

 come to habits acquired at or soon after birth, as walking, 

 or eating, which, though they continue to be voluntary, 

 are often performed quite unconsciously. Swallowing 

 and breathing, though very complex acts, are acquired by 

 the infant a few minutes after birth, and thence performed 

 unconsciously, and we endeavour to explain this by the 

 terms " hereditary instinct," and the " experience of the 

 race." Mr. Butler concludes that these terms are im- 

 meaning, and that, because we see that all actions when 

 performed sufficiently often become automatic, we ought to 

 conclude, whenever we see actions performed automati- 

 cally, that there has been this repeated performance of 

 them somehow or other. He thus sums up his facts on 

 this phase of the question : " We are most conscious of, 

 and have most control over, such habits as speech, the 

 upright position, reading and writing, which are ac. 

 quisitions peculiar to the human race, and always 

 acquired after birth. We are less conscious of, and 

 have less control over, eating and drinking, swal- 

 lowing, breathing, seeing, and hearing, which were 

 acquisitions of our prehuman ancestry, but which are 

 still, geologically speaking, comparatively recent. We 

 are most unconscious of, and hare least control over, our 

 digestion and circulation, which belonged even to our 

 invertebrate ancestry, and which are habits, geologically 

 speaking, of extreme antiquity."' These principles are 

 then applied to a great variety of facts in biology with 

 extreme and, as some may think, perverted ingenuity, of 

 which we can only give a single illustration : "We say of 

 the chicken that it knows how to run about as soon as it 

 is hatched. So it does ; but had it no knowledge before 

 it was hatched } What made it lay the foundations of 



those limbs which should enable it to run about.-* What 

 made it grow a horny tip to its bill before it was hatched, 

 so that it might pick all round the larger end of the egg- 

 shell, and make a hole for itself to get out at ? And is it 

 in the least agreeable to our experience that such elaborate 

 machinery should be made without endeavour, failure, 

 perseverance, intelligent contrivance, and practice? In 

 the presence of such considerations it seems impossible 

 to refrain from thinking that there must be a closer con- 

 tinuity of identity, life, and memory between successive 

 generations than we generally imagine." This is the 

 "unconscious organising intelligence," says Mr. Murphy, 

 ultimately becoming conscious in the complete animal. 

 " It is the result of often repeated conscious acts," says 

 Mr. Butler, "which are now performed unconsciously 

 after countless repetitions." 



At first sight we seem to have here only the " ancestral 

 experience " which has already been objected to as im- 

 meaning. But this difficulty is overcome by the strange 

 assumption that "it is the same chicken which makes 

 itself over and over again ; for such imconscious action is 

 not won, so far as our experience goes, by any other 

 means than by frequent repetition of the same act on the 

 part of one and the same individual" Let no reader 

 throw the book aside on coming to this astounding 

 sentence, till he has read the two succeeding chapters on 

 " Personal Identity," which are full of curious facts and 

 subtle reasoning, and which lead to the conclusion that 

 life is the one great personality, of which all living things 

 are but differentiated offshoots still retaining a latent 

 memory of a long succession of ancestral habits and 

 experiences. This idea is carried further in the next 

 chapter, on " Our Subordinate Personalities," in which it 

 is shown that the highest authorities maintain the distinct 

 individuality of the countless cells or physiological units 

 of which our bodies are composed, and Mr. Butler 

 remarks : " With the units of our bodies it is as with the 

 stars of heaven, there is neither speech nor language, but 

 their voices are heard among them. Our will is thejiat 

 of their collective wsdom as sanctioned in their parlia- 

 ment, the brain ; it is they who make us do whatever we 

 do. When the balance of power is well preserved among 

 them, when they respect each other's rights, and work 

 harmoniously together, then we thrive and are well ; if 

 we are ill, it is because they are quarrelling among them- 

 selves, or are gone on strike for this or that addition to 

 their environment, and our doctor must pacify or chastise 

 them as best he may." 



Passing on to Chapter IX. — on the "Abeyance of 

 Memory" — it is shown that we remember best two 

 classes of phenomena, either very unfamiliar objects or 

 combinations — as if we were once in our lives ship- 

 wrecked on an iceberg, or very familiar object or acts* 

 which produce their effect by repetition. These last, 

 however, are apt to become unconscious, or to be wholly 

 lost sight of, except when the usual conditions call them 

 up, an amusing illustration of which is given as follows : — 

 " Men invariably put the same leg first into their trousers 

 — this is the survival of memory in a residuum ; but they 

 cannot, till they actually put on a pair of trousers, re- 

 member which leg they do put in first ; this is the rapid 

 fading away of any small individual impression." It is 

 on the same principle that every act of growth of cells 



