actions of an automaton, it is performed by a definitely constructed mechanism, always working in the same way when stimulated and left to itself. There must of course be a sense of effort in every impulse which has resistance to overcome, organs to be moved; but the mechanism of Breathing is so delicately adjusted, that the sense of effort is reduced to a minimum, and we are unconscious of it, or sub-conscious of it. Nevertheless, without altering the rate or amplitude of the inspirations and expirations, we become distinctly conscious of them, and, moreover, within certain limits we can control them, so that the Breathing passes from the involuntary to the voluntary class. 64. Pass on to other examples. What action can be more involuntary than the rhythmic movements of the heart and the contractions of the iris? Compared with the actions of the tongue or limbs, these seem riveted by an iron necessity, freed from all consciousness and control. Yet the movements of the heart are not only stimulated by sensations and thoughts, they are also capable of being felt; and the movements both of heart and iris are not wholly removed from our control. That we do not habitually control (that is, _interfere_ with) the action of the heart, the contraction of the iris, or the activity of a gland, is true; it is on this account that such actions are called involuntary; they obey the immediate stimulus. But it is an error to assert that these actions _cannot_ be controlled, that they are altogether beyond the interference of other centres, and cannot by any effort of ours be modified. It is an error to suppose these actions are essentially distinguished from the voluntary movement of the hands. We have acquired a power of definite direction in the movements of the hands, which renders them obedient to our will; but this acquisition has been of slow laborious growth. If we were asked to use our toes as we use our fingers--to grasp, paint, sew, or write with them, we should find it not less impossible to control the movements of the toes in these directions, than to contract the iris, or cause a burst of perspiration to break forth. Certain movements of the toes are possible to us; but unless the loss of our fingers has made it necessary that we should use our toes in complicated and slowly acquired movements, we can do no more with them than the young infant can do with his fingers. Yet men and women have written, sewed, and painted with their toes. All that is requisite is that certain links should be established between sensations and movements; by continual practice these links _are_ established; and what is impossible to the majority of men, becomes easy to the individual who has acquired this power. This same power can be acquired over what are called the organic actions; nevertheless the habitual needs of life do not _tend_ towards such acquisition, and without some strong current setting in that direction, or some