not trouble him. So far, then, so good. Seeing, however, that objects are ideas, modes of consciousness, why are they presented in the fashion in which we experience them? They appear, is the reply, not as mere modes of self-unfolding Egos, but as results of the working on these egos of a Divine Mind-of an intellect, an actus burus, in which the archetypes of all ideas of sense hang realiter. There is a multiplicity of subordinate individual Egos which know multiple worlds, all resolvable into shadowy ectypal phases of these luminous Archetypal Ideas. Berkeley tells us in the Siris that "sense implies an impression from some other being and denotes a dependence in the soul which hath it. Sense is a passion; and passions imply imperfection. God knoweth all things as pure mind or intellect; but nothing by sense nor through a Sensory" (Siris, § 289). Proceeding on these lines, he approximates to a system of Platonic Ideas upheld in a Supreme Idea, and transformed by it in part and obscurely to us individuals. Still there is a very notable contrast to be indicated. Berkeley's IDEAS are in no way the empty abstractions re-ified by Plato; indeed, the worship of "Universals" (those makeshifts of our weak intellects striving to extend their empire by way of symbols and words) would have been inconsistent with his sturdy Nominalism. Such preposterous figments as "Likeness," "Greatness," "Smallness," and like hypostatised attributes have no interest for him. Not shadowy Universals, but concrete, stable, unitary archetypes of the concrete but transient objects present in our numerically different worlds constitute his quarry. Thus the many Vesuvii present in the consciousness of human percipients are for him ectypes only of the complete archetype Vesuvius which obtains in the Divine Mind, and in which we share only in a most confused and imperfect manner. The solution is certainly compatible with Nominalism. The Berkeleyan Archetype is not a vague Platonic abstraction, such as "volcanicity" or "magnitude," but a particular, though an exceedingly complex, object in the consciousness of God. And unlike Plato's idle Universals, it is conceived as energising freely on us, thereby calling into reality the phenomenal or ectypal object we know.

The history of Idealism necessarily comprises that controversy

as to "Relations," latterly so emphasised, and, I must add, absurdly complicated and confused by German Epistemologists. Berkeley's attitude in this regard is instructive. At the outset of his thinking he was obviously too absorbed in his analysis of "Matter" and "visual space" to notice the as yet unexposed blemishes in Locke's Theory of Experience. He was content to view the development of perception out of space and time-ordered sensations. much as did Locke, save that he laid more stress on what would be now called "Association" as interpreter of sense, and distinguished most ably between the space of our mature, and the space of our dawning, consciousness. Locke's obscurities touching "Ideas of Relation" in general seem to have at first quite escaped his noIt is interesting, therefore, to detect in his later work, the Siris, gleams of what may almost be termed Kantian thinking, and the obvious weakening of his old sensationalist bias; a bias which in his case, as in many others, in no way impaired his loyalty to idealism. "Strictly the Sense knows nothing" (§ 253). "As Understanding perceiveth not, so Sense knoweth not" (§ 305). And how suggestively he alludes to the tabula rasa doctrine. "Some perhaps may think the truth to be this:-that there are properly no ideas or passive objects in the mind but what were derived from sense, but that there are also besides those her own acts or operations; such as notions" (§ 308). One is here within measurable distance of the Kantian Categories. I say measurable only because these notions are still present in the vaguest possible way and indeed grew wholly out of Berkeley's studies of Platonism (so markedly apparent in the Siris), not out of the so notably novel epistemological way of viewing things which yielded Kant's Critique. Still Berkeley evinces a distinct tendency to substitute intelligi for percipi as the support even of our ectypal imperfect worlds.

Idealism is the only possible form of a competent metaphysic, -this view, if left somewhat indeterminate, it is Berkeley's signal merit to have emphasised. But his Theological rendering of Idealism is faulty. The Berkeleyan Deity is advanced as a theologian's substitute for the "stupid, thoughtless somewhat" which Locke posited as the substance of objects and cause of our sensations.

And the positing of this Deity as cause of the said sensations involves an assumption, nowhere adequately vindicated by Berkeley, to wit., that of the transcendent validity of Causality, i. e. the belief that the notion of cause and effect can be used, not only within the confines of experience, but also to explain experience itself as caused by an agency or agencies beyond its pale. A consistent empiricism cannot accommodate this truly portentous assumption. That our sensations must have a cause beyond ourselves who have them is a view requiring close criticism. And that the cause is a Personal Deity, himself no sensating Ego but a purely intellectual being, who somehow affects us across a void, is a further development of hypothesis, open to still more exacting criticism.

In mooting his theory of Sensations Berkeley observes that their cause must be sought in spirit, "since of that we are conscious as active, yet not in the spirit of which we are conscious, since there would be then no difference between real and imaginary ideas; therefore in a Divine Spirit." But it is not at all necessary to seek for the cause in the conscious segments of our Egos or "spirits," for nobody believes that we consciously originate our sensations. It may well be urged that the said Egos or "spirits," like Leibnitzian monads, evolve both their sensations and ideas out of themselves, only attaining self-awareness or consciousness as result of their self-activity. Berkeley himself admits that the Ego is not an "idea," but rather that which has ideas. Why, then, should not this veiled Ego produce sensations for itself and fusing with, and opposing to, these the requisite "imaginary" ideas, suspend a perfectly satisfactory microcosm within itself? Such a view would at least allow him to dispense with an uncritical assumption of the transcendent validity of Causality. He would not then depart from the closed circle of the individual Ego, for which the Experience, which has to be interpreted, obtains.

This Theological Idealism is, therefore, improperly established at the outset. Nor, while thus improperly established, does it constitute even a good working explanation of Reality. Exposition of a coherent, slowly-unfolding world-whole, in some way common to, and the nursery of, all percipients is denied us. The actual world, the

world known to science and "common sense," is for Berkeley only a series of transient perceptions in us and animals, an aggregate of phenomena that come and go in the consciousness of numerically different "spirits." Nature is a tangle of broken, one-sided, and very limited experiences in us and like dependent individuals; the history of the solar system, æons of which, as science and common sense hold, preceded the evolution of our consciousness, is demolished at a stroke. It may, indeed, be urged that Berkeley has posited an archetypal Nature in the Divine Mind; a Nature, the esse of which is not dependent on percipi, so far at any rate as men, animals, etc., are concerned; and that this Nature is competent to furnish a full explanation of the standing of the "ectypal" worlds we know. The difficulty, however, is to show how this timeless unitary and complete Nature is dovetailed with the time-conditioned, numerically-different, and miserably fragmentary Natures which are suspended in the consciousness of human and lower egos. We have here a problem which was never solved, or, to the best of my knowledge, even confronted by Berkeley.

We may here indicate a further difficulty, one, however, by no means peculiar to the theological idealism of Berkeley. What is the ultimate ground of the egos or "spirits" on which the Deity is said to imprint sensations? Is this ground God himself? Berkeley and some influential moderns are of this opinion. But surely it is absurd to posit any individual, however exalted, as the ground of individuals who in respect of their bare individuality are necessarily other than himself? One centre of consciousness may affect other centres of consciousness, but how is it that the latter are in situ to be affected at all? If, on the other hand, God is not the ultimate ground of the Egos we seem driven to accept Pluralism, or to posit a deeper principle of which Deity and the Egos are alike mere aspects, a principle not in itself conscious as prius, but withal the source of consciousness. And this last consideration opens up a theme of momentous importance with bearings not only on a passing system such as Berkeleyanism, but on the interpretation of Idealism for all time. It has been voiced in varied phases by many

writers; for the present let us consider its purport in the regard of Berkeley.

That my or Smith's consciousness has had a history, that we as self-cognitive beings arose in time, is certain. Or to put the matter otherwise, at the present moment our Egos, in Berkeleyan phraseology, have "ideas," that is to say feel, think, and perceive. But feelings, thoughts, and perceptions are ever coming and going and if we trace their sequences back far enough we shall reach by inference a point when our Egos had no conscious experience at all. What, then, of these Egos posited as devoid of a consciously known content-as unprovided by Deity with sensations? Obviously we reach consciousless centres; hence, if we wish to retain multiple Berkeleyan Egos, we must retain them not as conscious spirits, but rather as Leibnitzian monads, potentially but not necessarily always actually conscious. But this is not all. One of the great objections that wars against the Theism of Leibnitz wars against that of Berkeley. On what grounds is a conscious "Mind" posited as prius of the Reality imparted to these multiple Egos? If Berkeley requires an "active power," not inherent in the Egos themselves, to account for sensations, why must that Power be assumed as conscious rather than METACONSCIOUS? If Experience is to be his guide, he ought not, of course, to overstep it by means of a notion (causality) borrowed uncritically from it. But even had his use of this Notion been vindicated, he ought to have borne in mind that Experience reveals every known conscious individual or "empirical ego" as arising in time, the actual as always a mere oasis in the potential, that our very perceptions of objects are replete with ideas of sensations which may be, but are not, realised, that the area of consciousness even in the case of a Titan of knowledge is always at any given moment most narrow. Experience in fact is all in favor of the Metaconscious as prius of the conscious, not, therefore, in favor of a Theistic Idealism. I am aware, however, that many neoHegelians view consciousness as the "form of eternity," and that Berkeley is on this count in very good modern company. By these thinkers, as by Berkeley, Reality, grasped in inadequate and inconsistent pieces by us, is viewed as all-together in a conscious God, a