VI. That the intelligible essence, indeed, the whole of which is arranged according to form, is necessarily impassive, has been already shown. Since, however, matter also is something incorporeal, though after another manner [than the intelligible,] concerning this likewise it must be considered after what manner it subsists; whether it is passive, as it is said to be, and in all things mutable, or whether it is necessary to opine that this also is impassive, and if it is so, the mode of its impassivity must be unfolded. In the first place, therefore, this must be assumed by those who speak concerning the nature of it, and who endeavour to show what it is, that the nature, essence, and existence of being, is not such as the multitude conceive it to be. For being which may be so denominated in reality, is truly being; but this is that which is entirely being; and this again is that which in no respect is deficient in existence. But since it is perfectly being, it is not in want of any thing in order that it may be preserved and be, but to other things which appear to be, it is the cause of their apparent existence. If, therefore, these things are rightly asserted, it is necessary that it should subsist in life, and in a perfect life; for if it were deficient in this, it would not be essence in a more eminent degree. This, however, is intellect and perfect wisdom. Hence it is bounded and definite, and nothing is there in capacity which does not also possess a mighty power; since otherwise it would be deficient. Hence, too, it is eternal, invariably the same, and unreceptive of any thing. For if it should receive any thing, it would receive something besides itself ; and this would be non-being. It is necessary, however, that it should be perfectly being. Hence it is requisite it should accede to existence, possessing all things in itself, and being at once all things, and one all, if by these peculiarities we define being. But it is necessary that we should thus define it, or intellect and life would not proceed from being, but these would be adventitious to it, though they will not emanate from non-being, and being will be deprived of life and intellect. That which is truly non-being, therefore, will have these in such a way as it is requisite for them to subsist in less excellent natures, and in things posterior to being. For that which is prior to being, imparts these indeed to it, but is not itself indigent of these. Hence, if being is a thing of this kind, it is necessary that it should neither be a certain body, nor that which is the subject of bodies, but that existence to these should consist in non-being.
It may, however, be said, how is it possible the nature of bodies and matter should not have a [real] being, in which these mountains and rocks exist, the whole solid earth, and all resisting substances ? Indeed, things which are struck, confess that their essence subsists by compulsion. If, therefore, some one should say, how is it possible that things which neither press, nor are impelled, nor resist, and which in short are not visible, viz. soul and intellect should be beings, and truly beings, — we reply, that among bodies, earth is most stable, but that which is more movable, is also less ponderous, and of this that which is on high is most movable. And hence, fire flies [as it were] from the nature of body. I am of opinion, however, that things which are more sufficient to themselves, disturb others in a less degree, and occasion them less pain. But things which are more ponderous and terrene, because they are in a defective and fallen condition, and are unable to elevate themselves, strike against others, falling on them through imbecility, and oppressing them by their descending and sluggish weight. For dead bodies cause greater molestation1 when they fall, and strike and injure more vehemently. But animated bodies, as they participate of [real] being, are the more innoxious the more they participate of it. Hence motion, which is a certain life as it were in bodies, and an imitation of life, is in a greater degree present with those things that have less of body, as if a defect of being rendered that with which it is present, more corporeal. From what are called passions, likewise, it may be seen, that what is in a greater body is more passive, earth than other things, and other things according to the same ratio. Foi other things when divided, return again into one, when nothing prevents them. But when a terrene body is divided, the parts always continue separate from each other, as being naturally averse to reunion, and by a small impulse are disposed to remain as they are impelled, and be corrupted. Hence, that which becomes body in a most eminent degree, as having especially arrived at nonentity, is incapable of recalling itself into one. Ponderous, therefore, and vehement concussions, by which some things act upon others, are attended with ruin. But one debile thing falling on another, possesses with respect to it the same efficacy and power, as nonentity falling on nonentity. And this we think a sufficient refutation of their opinion who place beings among bodies, and who ere induced to do so by the testimony of impulsions and concussions; and from the phantasms produced through sense derive their belief of the truth. Such as these are affected in a manner similar to those who are dreaming, and who imagine that what they perceive is true, though it. is nothing more than a dream. For sense is alone the employment of the dormant soul; since as much of the soul as is merged in body, so much of it sleeps. But true vigilance is a true elevation from, and not in conjunction with body. For indeed a resurrection with body, is a transmigration from sleep to sleep, [and from dream to dream] like a man passing [in the dark] from bed to bed. But that elevation is entirely true, which wholly rises [from the shadowy essence] of bodies. For these possessing a nature contrary to soul, have also that which is contrary to essence. And this also is testified by their generation, their flowing and corruption ; all which are foreign to the nature of real being.
VII. Let us, however, again return in the first place, to the subject matter, and afterwards to the things which are said to be in matter, from which it will be known that matter itself has no [real] existence, and that it is impassive. It is therefore incorporeal, since body is posterior to it, and is a composite, and matter in conjunction with another thing [i.e. with form,] produces body. For thus it is allotted the same appellation according to the incorporeal, because both being and matter are different from bodies. Since, however, matter is neither soul nor intellect, nor life, nor form, nor reason, nor bound; for it is infinite ; nor power; for what can it effect; but falls off from all these, neither can it rightly receive the appellation of being. But it may deservedly be called non-being. Tet it is not non-being in the same manner as motion is, or permanency ; but it is truly non-being, the image and phantasm of bulk, and the desire of subsistence. And it stands, indeed, but not in that which is permanent, is of itself invisible, and flies from him who wishes to behold it. When, likewise, some one does not see it, then it is present ; but is not perceived by him who strives intently to behold it. Add too, that contraries are always apparent in it; the small and the great, the less and the more, the deficient and the exceeding, being an image neither able to remain, nor yet to fly away. For it has not even power to effect this, as receiving no strength from intellect, but subsisting in the defect of all being. Hence it deceives us in whatever it announces of itself ; so that if it should appear to be great, it is small; if more, it is less ; and the being which we meet with in the imagination of it, is non-being, and as it were a flying mockery. Hence, also, the things which appear to be ingenerated in it, are mockeries, and images in an image, just as in a mirror, where a thing which is situated in one place appears to be in another. It likewise seems to be full and to be all things, and yet has nothing. But the things which enter into and depart from matter, are imitations and images of [real] beings, flowing about a formless resemblance; and on account of its formless nature are seen within it. They also appear, indeed, to effect something in it, but effect nothing ; for they are vain and debile, and have no resisting power. And since matter, likewise, is void of resistance, they pervade without dividing it, like images in water, or as if some one should send as it were forms into what is called a vacuum. For again, if the things which are beheld in matter were such as those from which they proceeded into it, perhaps a certain power of these might be ascribed to material forms, and matter might be supposed to suffer by them. But now, since the things which are represented are of one kind, and those that are beheld in matter of another, from these also we may learn that the passion of matter is false; that which is seen in it being false, and in no respect possessing any similitude to its maker. Hence, being imbecile and false, and falling into a false receptacle, as in a dream, or in water, or a mirror, it necessarily permits matter to be impassive, though in the things which have been just mentioned, there is a similitude between the representations in them, and the originals of which they are the resemblances.
VIII. In short, that which suffers ought to be a thing of this kind, so that it may be as it were in the contrary powers and qualities of the things which accede and produce passion. For to the inherent heat the change in quality is from that which refrigerates; and to the inherent humidity the change is from that which causes dryness. And we say that the subject is changed in quality, when from being cold it becomes hot, or moist from being dry. But what is called the corruption of fire, testifies the truth of this, the mutation being made into another element. For we say that the fire and not the matter is corrupted; so that passions are about that, about which corruption also subsists. For the reception of passion is the path to corruption; and to be corrupted pertains to that to which likewise it belongs to suffer. It is not however possible, that matter should be corrupted. For into what, and how can it be corrupted ? But is not matter [it may be said] co-passive, since qualities in their mixture with each other suffer, and matter receives in itself myriads of heats and colds, and in short infinite qualities, and is distinguished by these, and has them as it were connascent and mingled with each other ? For each of these is not separate from the rest, and matter is left in the middle of them. Unless perhaps some one should place it external to them. But everything which is in a subject, is in such a manner present with the subject, as to impart something to it from itself.
IX. It must therefore be assumed, that one thing is present with another, and that one thing is in another, not according to one mode only. But sometimes together with being present, it causes that with which it is present to be better or worse, accompanied with permutation; as is seen to be the case in the bodies of animals; and at another time, it makes it to be as it were better or worse, without that being passive with which it is present, as is said to be the case in the soul. Sometimes, also, this takes place in such a way as when a figure is imprinted in wax, where there is neither any passion, so as to cause the wax to be something else when the figure is present with it, nor any defect in the wax, when the figure is destroyed. Light, also, does not produce a change in quality of the figure about that which is^ illuminated. Nor does a stone, when it becomes cold, possess any thing besides frigidity, from that through which it is cold, while it remains a stone. And what does a line [viz. the extension of length] suffer from colour ? Nor, in my opinion, does a superficies suffer any thing from it, but perhaps the subject body. Though what can this suffer from colour ? For it is not proper to say that a thing suffers when something is [merely] present with it; nor when it is invested with form. If, however, some one should say that mirrors, and in short diaphanous substances, suffer nothing from the images that are seen within them, he will not adduce an unappropriate paradigm. For the forms which are in matter are images, and matter is still more impassive than mirrors. Hence heat and cold are ingenerated in it, but do not heat [or refrigerate] it. For to be heated and refrigerated, pertains to quality leading the subject from one quality to another.
It is requisite, however, to consider, whether frigidity is not the absence and privation [of heat] : but qualities entering together into matter, many of them act on each other, or rather are contrarily affected. For what can fragrance effect in sweetness ; or colour in figure ? Or what can that which belongs to one genus effect in another ? Whence especially credibility may be obtained, that a thing may be in that which is different from it, without injuring by its presence that with which it is present. As, therefore, that which is injured is not injured by any thing of a casual nature, so neither does that which is changed and which suffers, suffer by any thing indiscriminately. But contraries only suffer from contraries, other things being unchanged by others ; so that those things in which there is no contrariety, do not suffer by any thing of a contrary nature. Hence, it is necessary if any thing suffers, that it should not be matter, but something which is a composite of matter and form, or in short, that it should be at one and the same time many things. But that which is alone, and separate from other things, and which is entirely simple, will be impassive to all things, and will be inclosed in the middle of all things, acting on each other; just as when in the same house certain persons strike each other, neither does the house suffer any thing from the blows, nor the air which is in it. But the forms which are in matter, perform such things as they are naturally adapted to perform. Matter itself, however, is much more impassive than such qualities in it, which by not being contraries are impassive with reference to each other.
X. In the next place, if matter suffers, it is necessary that it should possess something from the passion, and that this should either be the passion itself, or that it should be disposed differently from what it was before the passion was produced in it. Hence, another quality acceding after the former, the recipient will no longer be matter, but matter with a certain quality. If, however, quality2 itself should fail, leaving something of itself of an effective nature, the subject will in a still greater degree become something else; and proceeding after this manner, the subject will be something besides [mere] matter, and will be manifold and multiform. Hence, it will no longer be the universal recipient, since it will be an impediment to the multitude of things which accede to it, and matter will no longer remain, and therefore will not be incorruptible. So that if it is necessary that matter should be as it was from the first, it ought thus to be always the same, since to assert that it has been changed is not to preserve it the same. Farther still, if in short every thing which is changed in quality ought, remaining in the same form, to be changed according to accidents, and not essentially ; — if, therefore, it is requisite that what is changed in quality should remain, and that part of it which suffers is not that which remains, one of two things is necessary, either that matter when changed in quality should depart from itself, or that not departing from itself it should not be changed in quality. If, however, some one shoidd say, that it is changed in quality, yet not so far as it is matter; in the first place, indeed, he cannot assign what that is according to which it is so changed; and in the next place, he must confess that thus also matter itself is not changed in quality. For as in other things which are forms, it is not possible that they can be essentially changed in quality, since their essence consists in this [i.e. in being forms], thus also, since the being of matter is to exist as matter, it cannot be changed in quality so far as it is matter, but it must necessarily remain what it is. And as there form itself is unchanged in quabty, so likewise here it is necessary that matter itself should be immutable.
XI. Whence, also, I think that the divine Plato [in the Timseus], having formed the same conception rightly says, that the things which enter into and depart from matter, are imitations of beings; the words entering into and departing, not being used by him in vain. For he wished to direct our attention to the mode in which « matter participates of forms. It also appears that the doubt how this participation is effected, is not what many prior to us conceived it to be, viz. how forms proceed into matter, but rather how they subsist in it. For it seems to be truly wonderful, how these forms being present with matter, it nevertheless remains impassive ; especially since the forms which enter it suffer from each other. According to Plato, however, the entering forms expel those which entered prior to them, and passion is in the composite from matter and form ; yet not in every composite, but in that which is in want of the acceding or departing, form ; and which indeed in its composition is defective by the absence of a certain form, but is perfect by the presence of it. But matter does not possess any thing more whatever as an accession to its composition, by the entrance of any thing into it. For it does not then become that which it is through the form that enters, nor is it less by the departure of this form. For it remains that which it was at first. To the natures, indeed, which require ornament and order, it is useful to be adorned; and to these ornament may accede without transmutation, as is the case with things which we surround with decoration. If, however, any thing is so adorned as to have the ornament connascent, it will be requisite that what was before, void of beauty, should be changed in quality, become different from what it was, and from being deformed be beautiful. If, therefore, matter being deformed is rendered beautiful, it is no longer that base thing which it was before; so that in being thus adorned, it loses its subsistence as matter, and especially if its deformity is not accidental. But if it is so deformed as to be deformity itself, it will not participate of ornament. And if it is so evil, as to be evil itself, it will not participate of good. Hence it does not participate in such a way as some fancy it does, viz. by being passive, but after another manner, which is that of appearing to participate. Perhaps, too, according to this mode the doubt may be solved, how, since matter is evil, it can aspire after good, because it does not through the participation cease to be what it wa3. For if what is called the participation of matter subsists after this manner so that it remains as we say the same, unchanged in quality, and is always that which it is, it will no longer be wonderful, how being evil it participates of good. For it does not depart from itself. But because it is indeed necessary it should participate, it participates after a certain manner as long as it exists. In consequence, however, of remaining that which it is, and the mode of participation preserving it [in its own proper nature] it is not injured in its essence by that which thus imparts something to it. And it appears not to be less evil on this account, viz. because it always remains that which it is. For if it truly participated of, and was truly changed in quality by the good, it would not be naturally evil. So that^if some one should say that matter is evil, he will assert what is true, if he says it is impassive to the good, which is the same thing as to say, that it is entirely impassive.
Xll. But Plato having formed this conception of matter, and not admitting that participation in it, is as if form was generated in a subject, and imparted to it morphe, so as to become one composite, the things which it participates being co-transmuted, and as it were co-mingled, and co-passive, — Plato, therefore, not being willing to adopt such a mode of participation as this, but desiring to show how matter remaining impassive possesses forms, investigated a paradigm of impassive participation, without which it is not easy to show what those things especially are, which when present preserve the subject one and the same. He likewise excites many doubts, while hastening to obtain the object of his enquiry, and besides this, wishing to represent to us the vacuity of subsistence in sensibles, and that the region of the resemblance of reality is very ample. Supposing, therefore, that matter by figures produces passions in animated bodies, while at the same time it has itself none of these passions, he indicates by this the stability of matter; enabling us to collect by a syllogistic process that matter neither suffers, nor is changed in quality by these figures. For in these bodies indeed [which are the objects of sense], and which receive one figure after another, perhaps some one may say a change in quality is effected, asserting that the mutation of figure is an homonymous alliation3. Since matter, however, has neither any figure, nor any magnitude, how cau it be said that the presence of figure, in whatever way this may take place, is alliation, though it should homonymously be said to be so ? If, therefore, some one adopting this conception of Plato as legitimate, should assert that the subject nature [i.e. matter] does not possess any thing in such a way as it is thought to possess it, he will not speak absurdly. In what manner, however, does matter possess forms, if you are not willing to admit that” it possesses them as figures ? But the hypothesis of Plato indicates as much as possible the impassivity of matter, and the apparent presence of images in it, which are not [in reality] present.
Perhaps, however, we ought first to speak further about the impassivity of matter. Plato, therefore, teaches us that we ought to be led by usual appellations to the consideration of its passivity, as when he says it becomes dry, or ignited, or moist, &c. and receives the forms of air and water. For the assertion that it receives these forms, mitigates the force of the other assertion, that matter is ignited and becomes moist. He likewise manifests when he says that matter receives forms, that it is not itself invested with morphe, but that the morphae are in the same state as when they entered into matter; and that the term ignited is not properly applied to matter, but rather fire in generation, or becoming to be. For it is not the same thing for fire to be in generation, and for a thing to be ignited. For to be ignited is indeed effected in another thing, in which there is also passivity. But how can that which is a part of fire, be itself ignited? For this would be just the same as if some one should say, that the statue proceeded through the brass, or fire through matter, and besides this ignited it. Farther still, if that which accedes is reason or a productive principle, how will it ignite ? Shall we say on account of figure ? But that which ignited already consists both of matter and figure. How, therefore, can it consist of both, unless it becomes one from both ? Or shall we say that though it becomes one, yet not from two things having passions in each other, but acting upon other things ? Does this, therefore, arise from the agency of both, or from one of them causing the other not to fly away ? When, however, a certain body is divided, how is it possible that matter also should not be divided ? And matter when it is divided being passive, how is it possible it should not suffer by this very passion ? Or what hinders us from asserting for the same reason that matter is corrupted ? Since when body is corrupted, it must be shown why matter likewise is not corrupted. In answer to this, however, it may be said, that what suffers and is divided is a magnitude of a definite quantity, but in that which is not magnitude, the passions of magnitude are not ingenerated. And, in short, the passions of body are not inherent in that which is not body ; so that those who make matter to be passive, must also admit it to be body.
XIII. It is likewise requisite that they should attend to the manner in which they say matter flies from form. For how can it fly from stones and rocks by which it is comprehended ? For they will not say that it sometimes flies from form, and sometimes does not. For if it flies by its own will, why does it not always fly from it ? But if it abides from necessity, there is not any time in which it is not invested with a certain form. The cause, however, must be investigated why each matter has not always the same form, and this must be in a still greater degree investigated in the forms which enter into matter. How, therefore, is matter said to fly from form ? Is it by its own nature, and always ? But what else will this be, than that never departing from itself, it so possesses form as if it never possessed it, or if this is not admitted, they will not be able to assign any probable reason in defence of what they assert. Plato also calls matter the receptacle and nurse of all generation. And the receptacle and nurse indeed, are different from generation; but that which is changed in quality is in generation. Since, likewise, the receptacle and nurse are prior to generation, they will also be prior to alliation. Add too, that they will preserve matter in an impassive state; as also will the assertion that each thing has an apparent subsistence in that in which it is ingenerated, and that it departs from thence as from a receptacle and seat. The impassivity of matter, likewise, is preserved by the assertion that it is the place of forms; for this does not ascribe any passion to it, but investigates another mode of subsistence. What, therefore, is this mode? Since, indeed, a nature of this kind ought not to be any one of, but to fly from every essence of beings, and to be entirely different from them; for they are reasons or productive principles, and have a real existence; — this being the case, it is necessary that matter in consequence of this difference should preserve the safety which it is allotted, and should not only be unreceptive of beings, but also if there is a certain imitation of them, that it should even be destitute of familiarity with this resemblance. For thus it will be entirely different from beings, since otherwise, being conversant with a certain form, and becoming something else in conjunction with it, it would cease to be different from beings, and to be the receptacle of all things; for it would not be the recipient of any thing. It is necessary, however, that matter should remain the same, while forms enter into it, and that it should be impassive during their egress from it, in order that they may always enter into and depart from it. But that which enters, enters as an image, and not being itself real, enters into that which is void of truth and reality. Does it, therefore, truly enter ? But how is it possible it should be truly received by that to which it is not in any respect lawful to participate of truth, in consequence of its being false ? Hence, it falsely proceeds into that which is false, and becomes similar to an object in a mirror, as long as the object is beheld within it. For with respect to matter, if you take away [real] beings, none of those things which are now seen in the sensible region, would for the smallest space of time be apparent. The mirror, therefore, of which we have just spoken, is perceived by us; for it is itself a certain form. Matter, however, not being itself any form, is not itself seen ; for otherwise, it would be requisite that it should be seen by itself prior to the forms that it apparently contains. But it suffers something of the same kind as the air when illuminated, which is then also invisible, because it could not be seen without being illuminated. Hence the objects which are seen in mirrors, are b§lieved not to have an existence, or to have it in a less degree, because that which contains them is visible, and itself remains while the objects depart. But matter is not itself perceived, neither when it has, nor when it is without forms. If, however, it was possible for the objects from which mirrors are filled to remain without being seen, yet no one would doubt the reality of the objects which are seen in them. Hence, if there is something in mirrors, sensibles also will be in matter. But if there is nothing [in reality] in mirrors, but objects have only an apparent subsistence in them, in matter also it must be said, forms have a resemblance of subsistence. The cause of this appearance, likewise, must be ascribed to the hypostasis of beings, of which beings themselves always truly participate, but non-beings not truly; since it is not proper that they should subsist in such a manner as they would, if they had an existence, and being had not.
XIV. What then, matter not existing, would nothing have a subsistence ? Nothing except beings; just as neither would an image have any existence, unless there was a mirror, or something of this kind. For that which is naturally adapted to subsist in another thing, cannot exist when that thing is not. For this is the nature of an image to be in something different from itself. For if any thing departs from the producing causes of its existence, it may indeed subsist without being in another thing. But since [true] beings remain, if there is a representation of them in something else, it is necessary there should be another thing imparting a seat to that which does not truly accede. And this by its presence and audacity, and as it may be said, mendicity and poverty, is as it were compelled to receive. It is however deceived, by not receiving [truly], in order that its poverty may also remain, and that it may always be a mendicant. For according to the fable, after it once had a subsistence, it began to beg; the fable indicating by this the nature of it, which consists in being destitute of good. It does not, however, beg to receive those things which the giver has to bestow, but is satisfied with whatever it may receive; so that this also indicates that what is apparent in it is different [from reality]. Its name, likewise, [which is Penia or Poverty] signifies that it is not filled. And the assertion that it was connected with Plenty,1 does not signify that this connection was with [real] being, nor with satiety, but with a certain artificial thing, i.e. with the wisdom of a phantasm. For since it was not possible for that to be entirely without the participation of being, which is in any respect external to it; for it is the nature of being to produce beings ; but that which is entirely non-being is unmingled with being; — this being the case, an admirable thing is effected, which participates, and yet in a certain respect does not participate of being, and which also in a certain respect possesses something from proximity to being; though by its own nature it is incapable of being as it were conglutinated with it. Hence it becomes defluous, as gliding away from a foreign nature which it has received, like echo from smooth and equable places, because it does not abide there, though it appears to be there, and to proceed from thence. If, however, matter so participated and received, as some one may think it does, that which proceeds into would be absorbed by it. But now it appears, that it is not absorbed, since matter remains the same, having received nothing, hut impeding progression like some repercussive seat. It is also the receptacle of forms acceding to, and mingled in it; just as those who are desirous of enkindling a light from the sun, place some smooth substance opposite to it, which they also fill with water, in order that the flame being impeded by that which is inward, and of a contrary nature, may not pass through, but may stop externally. Matter, therefore, thus becomes the cause of generation, and the forms which consist in it, are constituted after this manner.
XV. In things, therefore, which collect fire from the sun about themselves, as they receive flaine from a sensible fire, they become themselves objects of sense. Hence also they are apparent, because the objects are external, successive and proximate, touch each other, and have two extremities. But the productive principle in matter, has the external after a different manner. For difference of nature is sufficient, not being indigent of a twofold boundary ; but being much more alienated than every boundary by a diversity of essence which is destitute of all alliance, it possesses a power repugnant to mixture. And this is the cause of its remaining in itself, because neither that which enters into it enjoys it, nor does it enjoy that which enters; just as opinions and imaginations in the soul are not mingled with each other, but each again departs, as being alone that which it is, neither attracting, nor leaving any thing, because it was not mingled, and having the external, not because it is superjacent, and is visibly different from that in which it is, but because reason distinguishes the one from the other. Here, therefore, imagination is as it were an image, (the soul not being an image naturally,) though it appears to be the leader of many things, and to lead them where it pleases. The soul, nevertheless, uses the imagination as matter, or as that which is analogous to matter. The imagination, however, does not conceal the soul, since the soul by its energies frequently expels the phantasy; nor would it ever be able to conceal it, though it should be wholly diffused through it, though this by the imagination appears to be sometimes effected. For the soul contains in herself energies and reasons contrary to those of the phantasy by which the acceding [phantasms] are repelled. Matter, however, is much more imbecile than the soul, and contains nothing of beings whether true or false, which is properly its own. Neither has it any thing through which it may become apparent, being a solitude of all things. It is, however, the cause to other things of their apparent subsistence; but is not able to say even this of itself, I am here [though I am by no means visible]. And if at any time a certain profound reason discovers where it is concealed among beings, it exclaims that it is something deserted by all beings, and by things which appear to be posterior to beings, that it is likewise attracted to all things, and as it seems follows, and again does not follow them.