The moon has her phases, lovely in
every turn. The sun has his daily journey from east to west.
When the moon ventures palely into the day during her appointed
rounds and should happen to interpose between sun and Earth,
her light returns to the sun, from whence it came, and is hidden
from Earth: at which time her true, natural state is revealed,
which is darkness.
The sun's eclipse brings the moon no shame,
however; for the solar light breaks forth on all sides of the
moon and does not allow the day to be turned, completely, into
dark of night. By this means does the moon inform us of aspects
of the sun's splendor that we should not, otherwise, know.
Is the moon, whose natural state is revealed to be darkness,
therefore a servant of darkness? Indeed not; for she participates
in and partakes of the glory of the sun, whose light she drinks
during all of her circuits, phases, and revolutions. This, then,
is her proper glory: that she, who is established from the beginning
as a ruler of night, relieves her domain of great darkness by
power of the ruler of day.
When the moon's light falters in the night
by the timid turnings of her countenance, or should it fail completely
by having fallen under the dark shadow of Earth, then the stars
of heaven assume greater brilliance, in testimony of the sure
mercies of the Creator.
Only when vapors of clouds stand between Earth
and the greater vault of heaven are men convinced of a fear of
darkness. However, as the clouds of the second heaven-- much
like thoughts carried upon the inward heaven of Mind-- are recognized
by all to be but transient things, this darkness, too, is revealed
as a manifestation of mercy; for in every darkness, the light
in man perceives any greater darkness and anticipates the return
of greater light.