ferent, is distinguishable, and every thing which
is distinguishable, is separable by the imagination. This is another
principle. My conclusion from both is, that since all our perceptions
are different from each other, and from every thing else in the
universe, they are also distinct and separable, and may be considered as
separately existent, and may exist separately, and have no need of any
thing else to support their existence. They are, therefore, substances,
as far as this definition explains a substance.

Thus neither by considering the first origin of ideas, nor by means of
a definition are we able to arrive at any satisfactory notion of
substance; which seems to me a sufficient reason for abandoning utterly
that dispute concerning the materiality and immateriality of the soul,
and makes me absolutely condemn even the question itself. We have no
perfect idea of any thing but of a perception. A substance is entirely
different from a perception. We have, therefore, no idea of a substance.
Inhesion in something is supposed to be requisite to support the
existence of our perceptions. Nothing appears requisite to support the
existence of a perception. We have, therefore, no idea of inhesion. What
possibility then of answering that question, Whether perceptions
inhere in a material or immaterial substance, when we do not so much as
understand the meaning of the question?

There is one argument commonly employed for the immateriality of the
soul, which seems to me remarkable. Whatever is extended consists of
parts; and whatever consists of parts is divisible, if not in reality,
at least in the imagination. But it is impossible anything divisible
can be conjoined to a thought or perception, which is a being altogether
inseparable and indivisible. For supposing such a conjunction, would
the indivisible thought exist on the left or on the right hand of this
extended divisible body? On the surface or in the middle? On the back
or fore side of it? If it be conjoined with the extension, it must exist
somewhere within its dimensions. If it exist within its dimensions, it
must either exist in one particular part; and then that particular part
is indivisible, and the perception is conjoined only with it, not with
the extension: Or if the thought exists in every part, it must also be
extended, and separable, and divisible, as well as the body; which is
utterly absurd and contradictory. For can any one conceive a passion of
a ya