And as to the _Ideas_ of _Corporeal_ things, I find nothing in them of that _perfection_, but it may proceed from my self; for if I look into them more narrowly, and examine them more particularly, as yesterday (_in the second Medit._) I did the _Idea_ of Wax, I find there are but few things which I perceive _clearly_ and _distinctly_ in them, viz. _Magnitude_ or _extension_ in _Longitude_, _Latitude_, and _Profundity_, the _Figure_ or _shape_ which arises from the _termination_ of that _Extension_, the _Position_ or _place_ which divers _Figured Bodies_ have in _respect_ of each other, their _motion_ or _change of place_; to which may be added, their _substance_, _continuance_, and _number_; as to the other, such as are, _Light_, _Colours_, _Sounds_, _Smels_, _Tasts_, _Heat_, and _Cold_, with the other _tactile qualities_, I have but very _obscure_ and _confused thoughts_ of them, so that I know not, whether they are _true_ or _false_, that is to say, whether the _Ideas_ I have of them are the _Ideas_ of _things_ which _really are_, or _are not_. For altho _falshood formally_ and _properly_ so called, consists only in the _judgement_ (as before I have observed) yet there is an other sort of _material falshood_ in _Ideas_, when they represent a _thing_ as _really existent_, tho it does _not exist_; so, for example, the _Ideas_ I have of _heat_ and _cold_ are so _obscure_ and _confused_, that I cannot collect from them, whether _cold_ be a _privation_ of _heat_, or _heat_ a _privation_ of _cold_, or whether either of them be a _real quality_, or whether neither of them be _real_. And since every _Idea_ must be _like_ the thing it represents, if it be _true_ that _cold_ is nothing but the _privation_ of _heat_, that _Idea_ which represents it to me as a thing _real_ and _positive_ may deservedly be called _false_. The same may be apply’d to other Ideas. And now I see no necessity why I should assigne any other _Author_ of these _Ideas_ but _my self_; for if they are _false_, that is, represent things that _are not_, I know by the _light_ of _nature_ that they proceed from _nothing_; that is to say, I harbour them upon no other account, but because my _nature_ is _deficient_ in something, and _imperfect_. But if they are _true_, yet seeing I discover so little _reality_ in them, that that very _reality_ scarce _seems_ to _be realy_, I see no reason why I my self should not be the _Author_ of them.