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 oar 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.

Suppose that in the extended object, or composition of coloured points,
from which we first received the idea of extension, the points were of a
purple colour; it follows, that in every repetition of that idea we would
not only place the points in the same order with respect to each other,