 The plausibility of the two premises seems undeniable, given that we think, for example, that if the room containing Goliath/Lump\(_1\) were to get really hot (hot enough to melt the wax) and then to cool again (so that what was left was a lump of wax in the shape of something like a mountain), then Goliath would be destroyed while Lump\(_1\) would still exist. And the reasoning looks impeccable: if Goliath were Lump\(_1\), then each would have to have all of the same properties as “the other”; since they have different properties, they must not be identical. (Few things in philosophy are as uncontroversial as Leibniz’s Law of the Indiscernibility of Identicals, though there has been some dispute about the proper way of formulating it.) Figuring out how to reconcile our intuitions that (1) and (2) are true with our tendency to think that Goliath and Lump\(_1\) are not really two things but just one is a version of the problem of material constitution. There are a wide variety of ways to deal with this problem. A “two-thinger”—one who thinks that there really are two things, a statue and a lump of wax, in one location—may simply eschew the tendency to identify Goliath and Lump\(_1\). Other responses suggest that there is something amiss with Leibniz Law arguments for nonidentities when there is this kind of an appeal to essential properties: Della Rocca (1996c) holds that such arguments are question begging; Lewis (1971) and Noonan (1991) hold that they are invalid; and Burke (1994) and Rea (2000) hold that in any such argument, at least one of the premises is false. For those who are interested, Rea (1997) is a good place to start to delve more deeply into this problem.