not spring spontaneously from the depths of consciousness to extend itself, as it grows weaker, in space; it is one with the necessary modifications to which, in the midst of the surrounding images that influence it, the particular image that each one of us terms his body is subject.
Such is our simplified, schematic theory of external
perception. It is the theory of pure perception.
If we went no further, the part of consciousness
in perception would thus be confined to
threading on the continuous string of memory
an uninterrupted series of instantaneous visions,
which would be a part of things rather than of
ourselves. That this is the chief office of consciousness
in external perception is indeed
what we may deduce a priori from the very definition
of living bodies. For though the function
of these bodies is to receive stimulations in order
to elaborate them into unforeseen reactions, still
the choice of the reaction cannot be the work of
chance. This choice is likely to be inspired by
past experience, and the reaction does not take
place without an appeal to the memories which
analogous situations may have left behind them.
The indetermination of acts to be accomplished
requires then, if it is not to be confounded with
pure caprice, the preservation of the images perceived.
It may be said that we have no grasp of
the future without an equal and corresponding
