an hypothesis framed for the sake of explaining-what?—the hypotheses itself! Ideas are first assumed to be innate; to prove this assumption, another assumption-the existence of innate ideas-is made; and the theory is complete.

The real force of Leibnitz's theory lies in his distinction between contingent and necessary truths, and in his position that experience alone could never furnish us with necessary truths. The examination of this we must delay till we come to Kant.

A brief view of the celebrated scheme of Pre-established Harmony will be all that is necessary to complete what we have here to say of Leibnitz. It was in those days an axiom universally admitted that "Like could only act upon Like." The question then arose: how does body act upon mind; how does mind act upon body? The two were utterly unlike: how could they act upon each other? In other words: how is Perception possible? All the ordinary explanations of Perception were miserable failures. If the mind perceives copies of things, how are these copies transmitted? Effluvia, eidola, images, motions in spirits, etc., were not only hypotheses, but hypotheses which bore no examination: they did not get rid of the difficulty of two unlike substances acting upon each other.

Leibnitz borrowed this hypothesis from Spinoza-whom, by the way, he always abuses: The human mind and the human body are two independent but corresponding machines. They are so adjusted that they are like two unconnected clocks constructed so that at the same instant one should strike the hour and the other point it. "I cannot help coming to this notion," he says, "that God created the soul in such a manner at first, that it should represent within itself all the simultaneous changes in the body; and that he has made the body also in such a manner as that it must of itself do what the soul wills: so that the laws which make the thoughts of the soul follow each other in regular succession, must produce images which shall be coincident with the impressions made by external objects upon our organs of sense; while the laws by which the motions of the

body follow each other are likewise so coincident with the thoughts of the soul as to give to our volitions and actions the very same appearance as if the latter were really the natural and the necessary consequences of the former."

This hypothesis has been much ridiculed by those unaware of the difficulties it was framed to explain. It is so repugnant however to all ordinary views, that it gained few, if any, adherents.

CHAPTER IV.

SUMMARY OF THE THIRD EPOCH.

THE result of the speculations we have been considering-speculations begun by Gassendi and Hobbes, and further developed by Locke-was to settle, for a long while, the dispute respecting Experience, and to give therefore a new direction to inquiry.

It was considered as established,-1st. That we could have no knowledge not derived from experience. 2d. That experience was of two kinds, viz. of external objects and of internal operations; therefore there were two distinct sources-sensation and reflection. 3d. That all knowledge could only consist in the agreement or disagreement of our ideas. 4th. Finally, that we could never know things in themselves, but only things as they affect us; in other words, we could only know our ideas.

To this had Locke brought Philosophy. Rightly interpreted, it was a denial of all Philosophy-a demonstration of its impossibility; but this interpretation Locke did not put upon his doctrines. That remained for Hume. Locke's system produced three distinct systems: Berkeley's Idealism, Hume's Skepticism, and Condillac's Sensationalism.

*The best edition of Leibnitz's works is that by Erdmann-Leibnitii Opera Philosophica: Berlin, 1839. The Nouveaux Essais are there for the second time published (the first was in Raspe's edition, Leipzig, 1765); and they have been since republished in a cheap and convenient form by M. Jacques Paris, 1845.

FOURTH EPOCH.

THE SUBJECTIVE NATURE OF KNOWLEDGE LEADS TO

IDEALISM.

CHAPTER I.

BERKELEY.

SI. LIFE OF BERKELEY.

THERE are few men of whom England has better reason to be proud than of George Berkeley, Bishop of Cloyne. To extraordinary merits as a writer and thinker, he united the most exquisite purity and generosity of character; and it is still a moot-point whether he was greater in head or heart.

He was born on the 12th of March, 1684, at Kilkrin, in the county of Kilkenny; and educated at Trinity College, Dublin, where, in 1707, he was admitted as a Fellow. In 1709, he published his New Theory of Vision, which made an epoch in Science; and the year after, his Principles of Human Knowledge, which made an epoch in Metaphysics. After this he came to London, where he was received with open arms. "Ancient learning, exact science, polished society, modern literature, and the fine arts, contributed to adorn and enrich the mind of this accomplished man. All his contemporaries agreed with the Satirist in ascribing

'To Berkeley every virtue under heaven.'

Adverse factions and hostile wits concurred only in loving, admiring, and contributing to advance him. The severe sense of

Swift endured his visions; the modest Addison endeavored to reconcile Clarke to his ambitious speculations. His character converted the satire of Pope into fervid praise. Even the discerning, fastidious, and turbulent Atterbury said, after an interview with him, 'So much learning, so much knowledge, so much innocence, and such humility, I did not think had been the portion of any but angels, till I saw this gentleman.'"*

His acquaintance with the wits led to his contributing to the Guardian. He became chaplain and afterwards secretary to the Earl of Peterborough, whom he accompanied on his embassy to Sicily. He subsequently made the tour of Europe with Mr.. Ashe, and at Paris met Malebranche, with whom he had an animated discussion on the ideal theory. In 1724 he was made Dean of Derry. This was worth eleven hundred pounds a year to him; but he resigned it in order to dedicate his life to the conversion of the North American savages, stipulating only with the Government for a salary of one hundred pounds a year. On this romantic and generous expedition he was accompanied by his young wife. He set sail for Rhode Island, carrying with him a valuable library of books, and the bulk of his property. But, to the shame of the Government, be it said, the promises made him were not fulfilled, and after seven years of single-handed endeavor, he was forced to return to England, having spent the greater part of his fortune in vain.

He was made Bishop of Cloyne in 1734. When he wished to resign, the King would not permit him; and being keenly alive to the evils of non-residence, he made an arrangement before leaving Cloyne, whereby he settled £200 a year, during his absence, on the poor. In 1752, he removed to Oxford, where, in 1753, he was suddenly seized, while reading, with palsy of the heart, and died almost instantaneously.

Of his numerous writings we cannot here speak; two only belong to our subject: the Principles of Knowledge, and the

* Sir J. Mackintosh.

Dialogues of Hylas and Philonous. We hope to remove some of the errors and prejudices with which his name is incrusted. We hope to show that, even in what are called his wildest moods, Berkeley was a plain, sincere, deep-thinking man, not a sophist, playing with paradoxes to display his skill.

§ II. BERKELEY AND COMMON SENSE.

Ridicule

All the world has heard of Berkeley's Idealism; and innumerable "coxcombs" have vanquished it "with a grin." has not been sparing. Argument has not been wanting. Idealism has been laughed at, written at, talked at, shrieked at. That it has been understood is not so apparent. In reading the criticisms upon his theory it is quite ludicrous to notice the constant iteration of trivial objections, which, trivial as they are, Berkeley had already anticipated. In fact the critics misunderstood him, and then reproached him for inconsistency-inconsistency, not with his principles, but with theirs. They forced a meaning upon his words which he had expressly rejected; and then triumphed over him because he did not pursue their principles to the extravagances which would have resulted from them.

When Berkeley denied the existence of matter, he meant by "matter" that unknown substratum, the existence of which Locke had declared to be a necessary inference from our knowledge of qualities, but the nature of which must ever be altogether hidden from us. Philosophers had assumed the existence of Substance, i. e. of a noumenon lying underneath all phenomena— a substratum supporting all qualities—a something in which all accidents inhere. This unknown Substance, Berkeley rejects. It is a mere abstraction, he says. If it is unknown, unknowable, it is a figment, and I will none of it; for it is a figment worse than useless; it is pernicious, as the basis of all atheism. If by matter you understand that which is seen, felt, tasted, and touched, then I say matter exists: I am as firm a believer in its exist

"And coxcombs vanquish Berkeley with a grin."-Pope.