These consequences we may carry one step farther, and conclude that all the pretended demonstrations for the infinite divisibility of extension are equally sophistical; since 'tis certain these demonstrations cannot be just without proving the impossibility of mathematical points; which 'tis an evident absurdity to pretend to. [1] It has been objected to me, that infinite divisibility supposes only an infinite number of _proportional_ not of _aliquot_ parts, and that an infinite number of proportional parts does not form an infinite extension. But this distinction is entirely frivolous. Whether these parts be called _aliquot_ or _proportional_, they cannot be inferior to those minute parts we conceive; and therefore, cannot form a less extension by their conjunction. [2] Mons. Malezieu. SECTION III. OF THE OTHER QUALITIES OF OUR IDEAS OF SPACE AND TIME. No discovery could have been made more happily for deciding all controversies concerning ideas, than that above mentioned, that impressions always take the precedency of them, and that every idea, with which the imagination is furnished, first makes its appearance in a correspondent impression. These latter perceptions are all so clear and evident, that they admit of no controversy; though many of our ideas are so obscure, that 'tis almost impossible even for the mind, which forms them, to tell exactly their nature and composition. Let us apply this principle, in order to discover farther the nature of our ideas of space and time. Upon opening my eyes and turning them to the surrounding objects, I perceive many visible bodies; and upon shutting them again, and considering the distance betwixt these bodies, I acquire the idea of extension. As every idea is derived from some impression which is exactly similar to it, the impressions similar to this idea of extension, must either be some sensations derived from the sight, or some internal impressions arising from these sensations. Our internal impressions are our passions, emotions, desires, and aversions; none of which, I believe, will ever be asserted to be the model from which the idea of space is derived. There remains, therefore, nothing but the senses which can convey to us this original impression. Now, what impression do our senses here convey to us? This is the principal question, and decides without appeal concerning the nature of the idea. The table before me is alone sufficient by its view to give me the idea of extension. This idea, then, is borrowed from, and represents some impression which this moment appears to the senses. But my senses convey to me only the impressions of coloured points, disposed in a certain manner. If the eye is sensible of any thing farther, I desire it may be pointed out to me. But, if it be impossible to shew any thing farther, we may conclude with certainty, that the idea of extension is nothing but a copy of these coloured points, and of the manner of their appearance.