Abstract

All that we see, all that we touch, all that we perceive, are naught but ideas. There are trees and rivers, to be sure, but these are simply collections of ideas. Is everything, then, in this world an idea or made up of ideas? No. I, for one, am not an idea. Besides ideas there are spirits. I know that I, an active being, exist. It would seem that to know this and to know God exists, nay even for there to be any meaning in what I say when I use the words “I,” “God,” and “spirit,” I would have to have an idea of myself, an idea of God, and an idea of spirit. But this cannot be. Ideas are essentially passive and inert. Spriits are essentially active. How, then, could an idea represent or be an image of a spirit? And what sense is there to something being an idea if it does not represent its object? How, then, can my discourse about spirits have any meaning at all? I have a notion of spirit.