in physiology but in philosophy. Till his time it was the notion that visible bodies, for example, gave from themselves a kind of film which entered the eye and so went to the brain, species intellectuales as they were called, and thus the mind received an actual copy or picture of things which were given off from it. In laying down that proposition upon what I imagine to be a perfectly irrefragable basis, Descartes laid the foundation of that form of philosophy which is termed idealism, which was subsequently expanded to its uttermost by Berkeley, and has taken all sorts of shapes since.
But Descartes noticed not only that under certain conditions an impulse made by the sensory organ may give rise to a sensation, but that under certain other conditions it may give rise to motion, and that this motion may be effected without sensation, and not only without volition, but even contrary to it. I know in no modern treatise of a more clear and precise statement than this of what we understand by the automatic action of the brain. And what is very remarkable is, that, in speaking of these movements which arise by a sensation being as it were reflected from the central apparatus into a limb—as, for example, when one's finger is pricked and the arm is suddenly drawn up, the motion of the sensory nerve travels to the spine and is again reflected down to the muscles of the arm—Descartes uses the very phrase that, we at this present time employ. And the last great service to the physiology of the nervous system which I have to mention as rendered by Descartes was this, that he first, so far as I know, sketched out the physical theory of memory. What he tells you in substance is this, that when a sensation takes place, the animal spirits travel up the sensory nerve, pass to the appropriate part of the brain, and there, as it were, find their way through the pores of the substance of the brain. And he says that, when the particles of the brain have themselves been shoved aside a little by the single passage of the animal spirits, the passage is made easier in the same direction for any subsequent flow of animal spirits, and that the repetition of this action makes it easier still, until at length it becomes very easy for the animal spirits to move these particular particles of the brain, the motion of which gives rise to the appropriate sensation, until at length the passage is so easy that almost any thing, especially an associated flow which may be set going, allows the animal spirits to flow into these already open pores more easily than they would flow in any other direction; and in this way a flow of the animal spirits recalls the image—the impression made by a former sensory act. That, again, is essentially in substance at one with all our present physical theories of memory. In one respect Descartes proceeded further than any of his contemporaries, and has been followed by very few of his successors in later days. Descartes reasoned thus: "I can account for many such actions, many reflex actions taking place without the intervention of consciousness, and even in opposition to the will." So far
