that we are led to believe in the existence of an independent material world; the belief is the result of the law of causation, which compels us to believe in "something which excites the feeling of resistance to our effort." Perception is thus the reference of sensation to a foreign cause. But this cause is not known in itself; "what we thus regard as extended and resisting is known to us only by the feelings which it occasions in our mind." To a certain extent, Brown is willing to admit a distinction between primary and secondary qualities. Extension and resistance are primary, since "the power of exciting the feelings of extension and resistance is constantly present, and is essential to our notion of matter." But still, while we are compelled to refer these feelings to an external cause, they are known to us, like other sensations, only as states of mind.

The three points, then, which are peculiar to Brown's theory of perception are, 1, his distinction between muscular and tactual sensations; 2, his analysis of extension into experiences of sense in conjunction with the element of time; and 3, his treatment of the material world as the unknown cause of sensations. On all these points Brown's theory has influenced the course of later speculation in Great Britain. His separate classification of the muscular sensations is now universally accepted, and has been greatly elaborated since his time. His resolution of space or extension into simpler elements has also been elaborated in the interests of empiricism; but it still remains a question whether, from subjective feelings frankly recognised as such, occurring in one-dimensioned

time, it is possible to wring our knowledge of threedimensioned space. The truth of the hypothesis by

no means follows from the admitted fact that our knowledge of extension is conditioned by our feelings of muscular activity. Space may be one element in our perception of a material world, the feelings of sense constituting another element. If so, a distinct knowledge of extension is gradually acquired by abstraction from the total object of our knowledge, the idea of sensation being similarly acquired; and a true analysis will consist in the recognition of both elements with their distinctive peculiarities, not in the attempt to resolve space or extension into the element of sense. Some at least of the difficulties which cling to Brown's statement still attach to the improved and elaborated versions of his hypothesis. As soon as he draws attention to the various directions taken by the moving fingers, he is presupposing the knowledge of extension for which he undertakes to account, for direction and motion have no meaning except in space. A similar blemish attaches to all later explanations of a like kind. And if, guarding against any illicit introduction of the idea of extension, we limit ourselves strictly to the contemplation of co-existing or successive feelings in time, it seems impossible to evolve our knowledge of extension from such factors as these. The feeling of muscular activity, in particular, is clearly distinguishable from the knowledge of space which accompanies it. On the third point, there is a strong

resemblance between Brown's treatment of the material world as the unknown cause of sensations, and the Transfigured Realism of Mr. Herbert Spencer, in which

matter figures as the unknown correlate of our feelings of resistance. But if causation be resolved into invariable sequence, the transition cannot be vindicated. No such sequence will enable us to transcend phenomena; and thus the subjective idealists, in reducing the material world to a succession of orderly sensations, only carried Brown's premisses to their logical issue.

Brown's Lectures, published after his death, had an immense vogue, due to their literary rather than to their speculative merits. In Great Britain alone they ran through nineteen editions in thirty years. They have been subjected also, by Hamilton and others, to criticism of the unduly severe sort which is often launched against a work which has been overrated. Now that the freshness of their interest has passed away, Brown's place in the succession of Scottish thinkers can be more accurately judged, though the value of his contributions to philosophy may still be disputed by critics of opposite schools. No reader of the present day who is tempted to take up the Lectures is likely to grudge his tribute of admiration to the admirable candour and the love of truth and virtue which they display.

CHAPTER XIV.

THOMAS CHALMERS (1780-1847).

THOMAS CHALMERS will be long remembered among the worthies of Scotland, but his name is connected only in a minor degree with philosophy. In 1823, when at the height of his renown as a preacher, and strenuously engaged in social reform in Glasgow, he received an invitation to the chair of Moral Philosophy in St. Andrews. He was tempted to accept the offer by his affection for the "ancient and much-loved University" where he had studied and taught, and still more, as he explained, because his health was giving way under too great a strain, and because he desired. leisure for the further study of political economy.

The lectures delivered at St. Andrews are partly reproduced in the Essays on Moral Philosophy, published in the 12th volume of his Select Works. He treats Moral Philosophy as the philosophy of duty, thus unlike many of his predecessors and contemporaries distinguishing it from mental science. He adopts Butler's view of the supremacy of conscience, and, discriminating between the emotions and the will,

insists on the voluntary character of all moral or immoral actions. At the same time, he points out that attention is a voluntary act, and that, by selecting the objects to which we attend, we may control our emotions. Justice and Beneficence are dealt with as duties of perfect and imperfect obligation, and connected with the emotions of anger and gratitude. He argues also that, even were freedom of the will denied and necessity admitted, the distinctions of morality would not be overturned. His treatment of these subjects was large and diffuse. The practical bearing of his doctrines was always present to his mind, and he spoke habitually as a preacher of righteousness. His lectures on ethics embodied much sound moral teaching and wise advice, enlivened with flashes of eloquence and humorous anecdotes, and his familiar intercourse with his students enhanced the influence of a powerful and enthusiastic mind. His class-room was crowded by students and occasional hearers, and his eloquent outbursts were greeted by rounds of applause, usually taking the form of "pedestrian approbation. He protested, but the responsive enthusiasm of his audience was not to be suppressed.

The most striking feature of his lectures was that they connected ethics with the doctrines of Christianity. His biographer, Dr. Hanna, tells us that the lectures consisted of two parts, the first dealing with the moralities between man and man on earth, and also with the moralities which connect earth with heaven, and the second occupied with natural theology. The lectures on natural theology were afterwards remodelled, and appear in his collected Works. In this