will restrict myself in what
follows to volition in this narrower sense of the term.

All our deeds were considered by the early psychologists to be due to a
peculiar faculty called the will, without whose fiat action could not
occur. Thoughts and impressions, being intrinsically inactive, were
supposed to produce conduct only through the intermediation of this
superior agent. Until they twitched its coat-tails, so to speak, no
outward behavior could occur. This doctrine was long ago exploded by the
discovery of the phenomena of reflex action, in which sensible
impressions, as you know, produce movement immediately and of
themselves. The doctrine may also be considered exploded as far as ideas
go.

The fact is that there is no sort of consciousness whatever, be it
sensation, feeling, or idea, which does not directly and of itself tend
to discharge into some motor effect. The motor effect need not always be
an outward stroke of behavior. It may be only an alteration of the
heart-beats or breathing, or a modification in the distribution of
blood, such as blushing or turning pale; or else a secretion of tears,
or what not. But, in any case, it is there in some shape when any
consciousness is there; and a belief as fundamental as any in modern
psychology is the belief at last attained that conscious processes of
any sort, conscious processes merely as such, _must_ pass over into
motion, open or concealed.

The least complicated case of this tendency is the case of a mind
possessed by only a single idea. If that idea be of an object connected
with a native impulse, the impulse will immediately proceed to
discharge. If it be the idea of a movement, the movement will occur.
Such a case of action from a single idea has been distinguished from
more complex cases by the name of 'ideo-motor' action, meaning action
without express decision or effort. Most of the habitual actions to
which we are trained are of this ideo-motor sort. We perceive, for
instance, that the door is open, and we rise and shut it; we perceive
some raisins in a dish before us, and extend our hand and carry one of
them to our mouth without interrupting the conversation; or, when lying
in bed, we suddenly think that we shall be late for breakfast, and
instantly we get up with no particular exertion or resolve. All the
ingrained procedures by which life is carried on--the manners and
customs, dressing and undressing, acts of salutation, etc.--are executed
in