are fully reflected in his chapter on power.

Both in Great Britain and France, the most illustrious successors of Locke
soon delivered themselves from his inconsistencies and
self-contradictions. Hartley was not in all respects a follower of Locke,
it is true, though he admitted his definition of free-agency. "It appears
to me," says Hartley, "that all the most complex ideas arise from
sensation, and that _reflection is not a distinct source_, as Mr. Locke
makes it." By this mutilation of the philosophy of Locke, it was reduced
back to that dead level of materialism in which Hobbes had left it, and
from which the former had scarcely endeavoured to raise it. Hence arose
the rigid scheme of necessity, for which Hartley is so zealous an
advocate. In reading his treatise on the "Mechanism of the Human Mind," we
are irresistibly compelled to feel the conviction that the only
circumstance which prevents the movements of the soul from being subjected
to mathematical calculation, and made a branch of dynamics, is the want of
a measure of the force of motives. If this want were supplied, then the
philosophy of the mind might be, according to his view of its nature and
operations, converted into a portion of mechanics. Yet this excellent man
did not imagine for a moment that he upheld a scheme which is at war with
the great moral interests of the world. He supposes it is no matter how we
come by our volitions, provided our bodies be left free to obey the
impulses of the will; this is amply sufficient to render us accountable
for our actions, and to vindicate the moral government of God. Thus did he
fall asleep with a specious, but most superficial dream of liberty, which
has no more to do with the real question concerning the moral agency of
man than if it related to the winds of heaven or to the waves of the sea.
Accordingly this is the view of liberty which he repeatedly holds up as
all-sufficient to secure the great moral interest of the human race.

His great disciple, Dr. Priestley, pursues precisely the same course. "If
a man," says he, "be wholly a material being, and the power of thinking
the result of a certain organization of the brain, does it not follow that
all his functions must be regulated by the laws of mechanism, and that of
consequence his actions proceed from an irresistible necessity?" And
again, he observes, "the doctrine of necessity is the immediate result of
the materiality of man, for mechanism is the u