(15) 'The sun does not shine there, nor the moon and the stars, nor these lightnings, and much less this fire. When he shines, everything shines after him; by his light all this is lighted.'

(6) We return, then, to the question whether there could be light if there were no air, the sun illuminating corporeal surfaces across an intermediate void which, as things are, takes the light accidentally by the mere fact of being in the path. Supposing air to be the cause of the rest of things being thus affected, the substantial existence of light is due to the air; light becomes a modification of the air, and of course if the thing to be modified did not exist neither could be modification.

The fact is that primarily light is no appanage of air, and does not depend upon the existence of air: it belongs to every fiery and shining body, it constitutes even the gleaming surface of certain stones.

Now if, thus, it enters into other substances from something gleaming, could it exist in the absence of its container?

There is a distinction to be made: if it is a quality, some quality of some substance, then light, equally with other qualities, will need a body in which to lodge: if, on the contrary, it is an activity rising from something else, we can surely conceive it existing, though there be no neighbouring body but, if that is possible, a blank void which it will overleap and so appear on the further side: it is powerful, and may very well pass over unhelped. If it were of a nature to fall, nothing would keep it up, certainly not the air or anything that takes its light; there is no reason why they should draw the light from its source and speed it onwards.

Light is not an accidental to something else, requiring therefore to be lodged in a base; nor is it a modification, demanding a base in which the modification occurs: if this were so, it would vanish when the object or substance disappeared; but it does not; it strikes onward; so, too it would always have its movement.

But movement, where?

Is space, pure and simple, all that is necessary?

With unchecked motion of the light outward, the material sun will be losing its energy, for the light is its expression.

Perhaps; and we may gather that the light never was an appanage of anything, but is the expressive Act proceeding from a base but not seeking to enter into a base, though having some operation upon any base that may be present.

Life is also an Act, the Act of the soul, and it remains so when anything- the human body, for instance- comes in its path to be affected by it; and it is equally an Act though there be nothing for it to modify: surely this may be true of light, one of the Acts of whatever luminary source there be . Certainly light is not brought into being by the dark thing, air, which on the contrary tends to gloom it over with some touch of earth so that it is no longer the brilliant reality: as reasonable to talk of some substance being sweet because it is mixed with something bitter.

If we are told that light is a mode of the air, we answer that this would necessarily imply that the air itself is changed to produce the new mode; in other words, its characteristic darkness must change into non-darkness; but we know that the air maintains its character, in no wise affected: the modification of a thing is an experience within that thing itself: light therefore is not a modification of the air, but a self-existent in whose path the air happens to be present.

On this point we need dwell no longer; but there remains still a question.

(22) For there is in the Original, first, Harshness, which attracts, shuts up, makes Darkness, and sharp Cold; but the Tartness cannot endure the Attracting: For the Attracting in the Cold makes in the Bitterness a Sting, [or Prickle,] which rages and resists against the hard Death, but not being able to come away out of the Tartness, (being its Mother wherein it stands,) therefore it rages very horribly, as if it would break the Harshness [in Pieces;] it flies upwards and sideways, and yet finds no Rest, till that the Birth of the Harshness falls into an aching horhible Essence, like a Brimstone- Spirit, very rough, hard, Stinging in itself, [or Kindling in itself,] like a whirling Wheel, and that the Bitterness flies up very swiftly, from whence proceeds a twinkling Flash; at which the dark Harshness is terrified, and sinks back as vanquished. And so when the Bitterness finds the Mother overcome, and as it were half dead, or soft, [or meek,] it is terrified more than the Mother. But the Shriek or Terror being past in the harsh Mother, which is now half dead, or soft, [pliable or meek,] then the Bitterness loses its terrible Right, [or Property,] and becomes white, light, and clear; and thus is the Kindling and Birth of the Fire, as is mentioned before.

(4) Besides, if rarity were of this dimness The cause thou askest, either through and through This planet thus attenuate were of matter, Or else, as in a body is apportioned The fat and lean, so in like manner this Would in its volume interchange the leaves. Were it the former, in the sun's eclipse It would be manifest by the shining through Of light, as through aught tenuous interfused. This is not so; hence we must scan the other, And if it chance the other I demolish, Then falsified will thy opinion be. But if this rarity go not through and through, There needs must be a limit, beyond which Its contrary prevents the further passing, And thence the foreign radiance is reflected, Even as a colour cometh back from glass, The which behind itself concealeth lead. Now thou wilt say the sunbeam shows itself More dimly there than in the other parts, By being there reflected farther back. From this reply experiment will free thee If e'er thou try it, which is wont to be The fountain to the rivers of your arts.

(9) And ween not, for I call it a darkness or a cloud, that it be any cloud congealed of the humours that flee in the air, nor yet any darkness such as is in thine house on nights when the candle is out. For such a darkness and such a cloud mayest thou imagine with curiosity of wit, for to bear before thine eyes in the lightest day of summer: and also contrariwise in the darkest night of winter, thou mayest imagine a clear shining light. Let be such falsehood. I mean not thus. For when I say darkness, I mean a lacking of knowing: as all that thing that thou knowest not, or else that thou hast forgotten, it is dark to thee; for thou seest it not with thy ghostly eye. And for this reason it is not called a cloud of the air, but a cloud of unknowing, that is betwixt thee and thy God.

(4) And again, observe ye the days of summer how the sun is above the earth over against it. And you seek shade and shelter by reason of the heat of the sun, and the earth also burns with growing heat, and so you cannot tread on the earth, or on a rock by reason of its heat.

(23) The Earth is not eternal, and for the Sake of the Fragility [or Corruptibility,] therefore Man's Body must break [or perish,] because he has attracted the Corruptibility to him. Thus also the paradisical Knowledge, Delight and Joy is departed from him, and he is fallen into the kindled Anger, of the kindled four Elements, which (according to their Fierceness) P qualify with the eternal Anger in the Abyss; although the outward Region of the Sun is mitigated, so that it is a pleasant Habitation, as is seen before our Eyes; yet if the Sun should vanish away, then thou wouldst well see and feel the Anger of God. Consider it well.

(4) This is the case, for example, when, after fixation, one has chiefly thoughts of dry wood and dead ashes, and few thoughts of the resplendent spring on the great earth. In this way one sinks into the world of darkness. The power is cold there, breathing is heavy, and many images of coldness and decay display themselves. If one tarries there long one enters the world of plants and stones.

(29) But- keeping to our illustration, by which the body is warmed by soul and not merely illuminated by it- how is it that when the higher soul withdraws there is no further trace of the vital principle?

For a brief space there is; and, precisely, it begins to fade away immediately upon the withdrawal of the other, as in the case of warmed objects when the fire is no longer near them: similarly hair and nails still grow on the dead; animals cut to pieces wriggle for a good time after; these are signs of a life force still indwelling.

Besides, simultaneous withdrawal would not prove the identity of the higher and lower phases: when the sun withdraws there goes with it not merely the light emanating from it, guided by it, attached to it, but also at once that light seen upon obliquely situated objects, a light secondary to the sun's and cast upon things outside of its path ; the two are not identical and yet they disappear together.

But is this simultaneous withdrawal or frank obliteration?

The question applies equally to this secondary light and to the corporeal life, that life which we think of as being completely sunk into body.

No light whatever remains in the objects once illuminated; that much is certain; but we have to ask whether it has sunk back into its source or is simply no longer in existence.

How could it pass out of being, a thing that once has been?

But what really was it? We must remember that what we know as colour belongs to bodies by the fact that they throw off light, yet when corruptible bodies are transformed the colour disappears and we no more ask where the colour of a burned-out fire is than where its shape is.

Still: the shape is merely a configuration, like the lie of the hands clenched or spread; the colour is no such accidental but is more like, for example, sweetness: when a material substance breaks up, the sweetness of what was sweet in it, and the fragrance of what was fragrant, may very well not be annihilated, but enter into some other substance, passing unobserved there because the new habitat is not such that the entrant qualities now offer anything solid to perception.

May we not think that, similarly, the light belonging to bodies that have been dissolved remains in being while the solid total, made up of all that is characteristic, disappears?

It might be said that the seeing is merely the sequel to some law , so that what we call qualities do not actually exist in the substances.

But this is to make the qualities indestructible and not dependent upon the composition of the body; it would no longer be the Reason-Principles within the sperm that produce, for instance, the colours of a bird's variegated plumage; these principles would merely blend and place them, or if they produced them would draw also on the full store of colours in the sky, producing in the sense, mainly, of showing in the formed bodies something very different from what appears in the heavens.

But whatever we may think on this doubtful point, if, as long as the bodies remain unaltered, the light is constant and unsevered, then it would seem natural that, on the dissolution of the body, the light- both that in immediate contact and any other attached to that- should pass away at the same moment, unseen in the going as in the coming.

But in the case of the soul it is a question whether the secondary phases follow their priors- the derivatives their sources- or whether every phase is self-governing, isolated from its predecessors and able to stand alone; in a word, whether no part of the soul is sundered from the total, but all the souls are simultaneously one soul and many, and, if so, by what mode; this question, however, is treated elsewhere.

Here we have to enquire into the nature and being of that vestige of the soul actually present in the living body: if there is truly a soul, then, as a thing never cut off from its total, it will go with soul as soul must: if it is rather to be thought of as belonging to the body, as the life of the body, we have the same question that rose in the case of the vestige of light; we must examine whether life can exist without the presence of soul, except of course in the sense of soul living above and acting upon the remote object.

(7) Even thus is swarthy made the skin so white In its first aspect of the daughter fair Of him who brings the morn, and leaves the night. Thou, that it may not be a marvel to thee, Think that on earth there is no one who governs; Whence goes astray the human family. Ere January be unwintered wholly By the centesimal on earth neglected, Shall these supernal circles roar so loud The tempest that has been so long awaited Shall whirl the poops about where are the prows; So that the fleet shall run its course direct, And the true fruit shall follow on the flower."