the reality lying in that steady correspondence they have with the distinct constitutions of real beings.  But whether they answer to those constitutions, as to causes or patterns, it matters not; it suffices that they are constantly produced by them.  And thus our simple ideas are all real and true, because they answer and agree to those powers of things which produce them on our minds; that being all that is requisite to make them real, and not fictions at pleasure.  For in simple ideas (as has been shown) the mind is wholly confined to the operation of things upon it, and can make to itself no simple idea, more than what it was received.

3.  Complex Ideas are voluntary Combinations.

Though the mind be wholly passive in respect of its simple ideas; yet, I think, we may say it is not so in respect of its complex ideas.  For those being combinations of simple ideas put together, and united under one general name, it is plain that the mind of man uses some kind of liberty in forming those complex ideas:  how else comes it to pass that one man’s idea of gold, or justice, is different from another’s, but because he has put in, or left out of his, some simple idea which the other has not?  The question then is, Which of these are real, and which barely imaginary combinations?  What collections agree to the reality of things, and what not?  And to this I say that,

4.  Mixed Modes and Relations, made of consistent Ideas, are real.

Secondly, mixed modes and relations, having no other reality but what they have in the minds of men, there is nothing more required to this kind of ideas to make them real, but that they be so framed, that there be a possibility of existing conformable to them.  These ideas themselves, being archetypes, cannot differ from their archetypes, and so cannot be chimerical, unless any one will jumble together in them inconsistent ideas.  Indeed, as any of them have the names of a known language assigned to them, by which he that has them in his mind would signify them to others, so bare possibility of existing is not enough; they must have a conformity to the ordinary signification of the name that is given them, that they may not be thought fantastical:  as if a man would give the name of justice to that idea which common use calls liberality.  But this fantasticalness relates more to propriety of speech, than reality of ideas.  For a man to be undisturbed in danger, sedately to consider what is fittest to be done, and to execute it steadily, is a mixed mode, or a complex idea of an action which may exist.  But to be undisturbed in danger, without using one’s reason or industry, is what is also possible to be; and so is as real an idea as the other.  Though the first of these, having the name courage given to it, may, in respect of that name, be a right or wrong idea; but the other, whilst it has not a common received name of any known language assigned to it, is not capable of any deformity, being made with no reference to anything but itself.