All things in the world are in perpetual motion. The universe is a perpetuum mobile. There is no real rest anywhere; it is always only apparent or relative. Heat itself, which constantly changes, is merely motion. In the eternal play of cosmic bodies countless suns and planets rush hither and thither in infinite space. In every chemical composition and decomposition the atoms, or smallest particles of matter, are in motion, and so are the molecules they compose. The incessant metabolism of the living substance is associated with a constant movement of its particles, with the building up and decay of plasma-molecules. But here we must disregard all these elementary kinds of movement, and be content with a brief consideration of those forms of motion which are peculiar to organic life, and a comparison of them with the corresponding motions of inorganic bodies.

The science of motion, or mechanics, is now taken in very different senses: (1) in the widest sense as a philosophy of life [generally called mechanism or mechanicism in England], equivalent to either monism or materialism; (2) in the stricter sense as the physical science of motion, or of the laws of equilibrium and movement in the whole of nature (organic and inorganic); (3) in the narrowest sense as part of physics, or dynamics, the science of moving forces (in opposition to statics, the science of equilibrium); (4) in the purely mathematical sense as a part of geometry, for the mathematical definition of magnitudes of movement; and (5) in the biological sense as phoronomy, the science of the movements of organisms in space. However, these definitions are not yet universally adopted, and there is a good deal of confusion. It would be best to follow the lead of Johannes Müller, as we are going to do here, and restrict the name phoronomy to the science of the vital movements which are peculiar to organisms, in contrast to kinematics, the exact science of the inorganic movements of all bodies. The real material object of phoronomy is the plasm, the living matter that forms the material substratum of all active vital movements.

On our monistic principles the inner nature of organic life consists in a chemical process, and this is determined by continuous movements of the plasma-molecules and their constituent atoms. As we have already considered this metabolism in the tenth chapter, we need do no more here than point out that both the general phenomena of molecular plasma-movement and their special direction in the various species of plants and animals can be reduced in principle to chemical laws, and are subject to the same laws of mechanics as all chemical processes in organic and inorganic bodies. In this we emphasize our opposition to vitalism, which sees in the direction of plasma-movement the supernatural influence of a mystical vital force or of some ghostly "dominant" (Reinke). We agree with Ostwald, who also reduces these complex movements to the play of energy in the plasm—that is to say, in the last instance to modifications of chemical energy. In regard to the visible movements of the living things which concern us at present, we must first distinguish passive and active, and subdivide the latter into reflex and autonomous.

Many movements of the living organism which the inexpert are inclined to attribute to life itself are purely passive; they are due either to external causes which do not proceed from the living plasm, or to the physical composition of the organic but no longer living substance. Purely passive movements, which play an important part in bionomy and chorology, comprise such as the flow of water and the rush of the wind; they cause considerable changes of locality and "passive" migrations of animals and plants. Purely physical, again, is what is known as the Brownian molecular movement which we observe with a powerful microscope in the plasm of both dead and living cells. When very fine granules (for instance, of ground charcoal) are equally distributed in a liquid of a certain consistency, they are found to be in a constant shaking or dancing movement. This movement of the solid particles is passive, and is due to the shocks of the invisible molecules of the fluid which are continually impinging upon each other. In the rhizopods—the remarkable protozoa whose unicellular organism sheds so much light on the obscure wonders of life—we notice a curious streaming of the granules in the living plasm. Within the cytoplasm of the amœbæ particles travel up and down in all directions. On the long thin plasma-threads or pseudopodia which stream out from the unicellular body of the radiolaria and thalamophora, thousands of fine particles move about, like promenaders in a street. This movement does not come from the passive granules, but from the active invisible molecules of the plasm, which are always changing their relative positions. Thus also the movements of the blood-cells which we can see with the microscope in the circulation of a young transparent fish, or in the tail of a frog-larva, are not due to the action of the blood-cells themselves, but to the flow of the blood caused by the beat of the heart.

An important factor in the life of many organisms, especially the higher plants, is the physical phenomenon called imbibition; it consists in the penetration of water between the molecules of solid bodies (drawn to them by molecular attraction), and the consequent displacement of the molecules by the fluid. In this way the volume of the solid body is increased, and movements are produced which may have the appearance of vital processes. The energy of these imbibitional bodies is notoriously very powerful; we can, for instance, split large blocks of stone by the insertion of a piece of wood dipped in water. As the cellulose membrane of plant-cells has this property of imbibition in a high degree (either in the living or the dead cell), the movements it causes are of great physiological importance. This is especially the case when the imbibition of the cell wall is one-sided, and causes a bending of the cell. In consequence of the unequal strain in the drying of many fruits, they split open and project their seeds to some distance (as do the poppy, snap-dragon, etc.). The moss-capsules also empty their spores as a result of imbibition-curving (in the teeth of the openings of the spore-cases). The hygroscopic points of the heron-bill (erodium) curl up in the dry state and stretch out when moist; hence they are used as hygrometers in the construction of meteorological huts. The so-called "resurrection plants" (anastatica, the rose of Jericho, and selaginella lepidophylla), which close up like a fist when dry, spread their leaves out flat when moistened (the leaves imbibing strongly on the inner side). There is no more real case of "resuscitation" (as many believe) in these cases than in the mythological resurrection of the body. However, these phenomena of imbibition are not active vital processes; they are independent of the living plasm, and due solely to the physical constitution of the dead cell-membranes.

In contrast with these passive movements of organisms, we have the active movements which proceed from the living plasm. In the ultimate analysis, it is true, these may be reduced to the action of physical laws just as well as the passive movements. But the causes of them are not so clear and obvious; they are connected with the complicated chemical molecular processes of the living plasm, of the physical regularity of which we are now fully convinced, though their complicated mechanism is not yet understood. We may divide into two groups the many different movements, which are called vital in this stricter sense, and were formerly regarded as evidences of the presence of a mystic vital force, according as the stimulus—the sensation of which is caused by the movement—is directly perceptible or not. In the first case, we have stimulated (or reflex or paratonic) movements, and in the second voluntary (autonomous or spontaneous) movements. As the will appears to be free in the latter, they have been left out of consideration by many physiologists, and handed over to the treatment of the metaphysical psychologist. On our monistic principles this is a grave error; nor is it improved when "psychonomism" appeals to a false theory of knowledge. On the contrary, the conscious will (and conscious sensation) is itself a physical and chemical process like unconscious and involuntary movement (and unconscious feeling). They are both equally subject to the law of substance. However, only the external stimuli which cause reflex movements are known to us to any great extent and experimentally recognizable; the internal stimuli, which affect the will, are mostly unknown, and are not directly accessible to investigation. They are determined by the complicated structure of the psychoplasm, which has been gradually acquired by phylogenetic processes in the course of millions of years.

The great problem of the will and its freedom—the seventh and last of Dubois-Reymond's world-riddles—has been dealt with fully in the Riddle (chapter vii.). But as we still meet with the most glaring contradictions and confusion in regard to this difficult psychological question, I must touch upon it briefly once more. In the first place, I would remind the reader that it is best to restrict the name "will" to the purposive and conscious movements in the central nervous system of man and the higher animals, and to give the name of impulses (tropisms) to the corresponding unconscious processes in the psychoplasm of the lower animals, as well as of the plants and protists. For it is only the complicated mechanism of the advanced brain structure in the higher animals, in conjunction with the differentiated sense-organs on the one side and the muscles on the other, that accomplishes the purposive and deliberate actions which we are accustomed to call acts of will.

But the distinction between voluntary (autonomous) and involuntary (reflex) movements is as difficult to carry out in practice as it is clear in theory. We can easily see that the two forms of movement pass into each other without any sharp boundary (like conscious and unconscious sensation). The same action, which seems at first a conscious act of the will (for instance, in walking, speaking, etc.), may be repeated the next moment as an unconscious reflex action. Again, there are many important mixed or instinctive movements, the impulse to which comes partly from internal and partly from external stimuli. To this class belong especially the movements of growth.

Every natural body that grows increases its extent, fills a larger part of space, and so causes certain movements of its particles; this is equally true of inorganic crystals and the living organism. But there are important differences between the growth in the two cases. In the first place, crystals grow by the external apposition of fresh matter, while cells grow by the intussusception of fresh particles within the plasm (cf. chapter x.). In the second case, in growth, which determines the whole shape of the organism, two important factors always co-operate, the inner stimulus, which depends on the specific chemical constitution of the species, and is transmitted by heredity, and the external stimulus which is due to the direct action of light, heat, gravity, and other physical conditions of the environment, and is determined by adaptation (phototaxis, thermotaxis, geotropism, etc.).

A peculiar property of many vital movements (but by no means all) is the definite direction they exhibit; these are generally called purposive movements. For the teleologist they afford one of the chief and most welcome proofs of the dualistic theory of the older and the modern vitalism. Baer, especially, has laid stress on the purposiveness of all vital movement. It has been given a more precise expression recently by Reinke. His "dominants" are "intelligent directive forces," essentially different from all forms of energy or natural forces, and not subject to the law of substance. These metaphysical "vital spirits" are much the same as the immortal soul of dualistic psychology or the divine emanations of ancient theosophy. They are supposed not only to regulate the special development and construction of every species of animal and plant, and direct it to a predetermined end, but also to control all the various movements of the organism and its organs down to the cells. These "hyperenergetic forces" are equivalent to the "organizing principle" and the "unconscious will" of Edward Hartmann, the "arranging and controlling protoplasmic forces" of Hanstein and others. All these metaphysical, supernatural, and teleological ideas, like the older mystic notion of a special vital force, rest on a perversion of judgment by the apparent freedom of will and purposiveness of organization in the higher organisms. These thinkers overlook the fact that this purposiveness can be traced phylogenetically to simple physical movements in the lower organisms. Moreover, they overlook or deny the definite direction of inorganic forms of energy, though this is just as clear in the origin of a crystal as in the composition of the whole world-structure, in the direction of the mind as in the orbit of a planet. Hence it is important to bear in mind always these two forms of mechanical energy, and emphasize their identity with the direction of vital movement.