But if it becomes flame, then, when it approaches extinction, it will be extinguished all at once, and not partially or gradually. For the nutriment exists along with it; on which account, while there is a great deal of it, it increases and is diffused; but when it is stunted it becomes less.
And any one might conjecture the truth of what takes place from what he sees happen among us. A lamp, when any one pours oil upon it, gives forth a most brilliant flame; but when any one ceases to supply it with that nutriment, and leaves only a small portion in the lamp, then the lamp is at once extinguished, and does not give out the smallest portion of flame.
 If again this is not the case, but if the world becomes light, then again it changes altogether. Why so? Because it has no substance or character of its own, but is generated from flame, and when this is wholly and completely extinguished in all its parts, it follows of necessity that the light also must be extinguished, and that not partially, but altogether. For what flame is to nourishment, that also is light to flame. As therefore the flame is extinguished concurrently with the want of nourishment, so also is the light simultaneously with the flame, so that it is actually impossible for the world to be capable of
 
regeneration, if there is no seminal principle lurking and kindled within it, but if all things are expended and destroyed, some by fire, and some by want. From all which arguments it is plain that the world is for ever uncreated and imperishable.


 Nevertheless, as Chrysippus says, some suppose that fire resolves all the arrangement of the universe when the elements are separated into itself, so that it becomes the seed of the world which is about to be made; and suppose in consequence that, of all the ideas which he and his sect have entertained on the subject, none are falsified. Granting, in the first place, that generation proceeds from seed, and that all dissolution is a resolving back into seed; in the second place, because it is argued by natural philosophers that the world is a rational nature, inasmuch as it is not only possessed of life, but is also endowed with intellect, and moreover even with wisdom; by these arguments he establishes the contrary proposition to that which he intends, namely, that it will never be destroyed. But the proofs are ready at hand to those who do not fear to join in the investigation.
Therefore the world resembles either a plant or an animal. But whether it is a plant or whether it is an animal, still, if it be destroyed by conflagration, it will never be itself its own seed. And the circumstances which take place among ourselves bear witness that nothing, whether greater or less, when destroyed, has ever been separated in such a manner as to engender seed.