Perhaps nothing in this world creates more joy in the human heart than light, typifying, as it does, life, activity, beauty, sequence of ideas stimulating growth and aiding perception. In the Bible the word "light," meaning understanding, spiritual vision, enlightenment, is used from one end to the other of its sacred pages. To begin with, there is that wonderful passage in the first chapter of Genesis: "And God said, Let there be light: and there was light." The preceding verse gives a very symbolical picture of the so-called human consciousness before the Word of God is spoken; and one translation puts it very forcibly thus: "But the earth was unorganized, empty, and darkness covered its convulsed surface. But the breath of God vibrated over its fluid face. God then said, let there be light, and light came."
The foregoing passage, especially the expression "fluid face," seems so exactly the right description of the condition of thought which exists all over the world to-day. "Fluid" is defined as "having particles which easily move and change their relative position without a separation of the mass, yielding to the least force impressed, and which, when that force is removed, recovers its previous state." As Mrs. Eddy says in "Miscellaneous Writings" (p. 119), "The nature of the individual, more stubborn than the circumstance, will always be found arguing for itself,— its habits, tastes, and indulgences." "Face" is defined as "the surface which presents itself to view." Hither and thither poor humanity is tossed, backwards and forwards, seeking rest and finding none; because all the artificial aids to the light, that light "which lighteth every man that cometh into the world," are unable to reveal the "Sun of righteousness." "Hungry and thirsty, their soul fainted in them;" and still they wearily wander in the desert, because they are unable to hear the voice of Truth, which would lead them safely home. In John we read, "He came unto his own, and his own received him not."
It is the habit of many people, in countries where the sun does not appear as frequently as in others, immediately to pull down their blinds and close their windows as soon as it makes its appearance, as though they lived in the tropics. When one is ushered into these abodes of gloom, a sense of deadness and chill seems to oppress one; and one wonders whether the protection of some cherished carpet or piece of furniture warrants such restrictive remedies. Outside, the birds are singing, the sweet scent of flowers fills the air, the trees are nodding in the breeze, the voices of happy children can be heard in the distance; but, within, all this is lost. Gloom and semi-darkness hide the outside beauty. This picture typifies the human consciousness in its fear of being aroused to further action than it deems desirable. It mentally draws down its blinds, shutting out that which shall awaken it from the lethargic dream of life in matter, and almost in a panic cries, ''Let us alone; what have we to do with thee ...? art thou come to destroy us?"
