Now it came to pass that about this time, at the beginning of the
fifteenth year of Tiberius Cæsar, very early in the spring, the only son
of my mother’s eldest brother died in Alexandria; and my mother’s brother
(whose name was Onias) sent to my mother desiring her that she would
suffer me to come to Alexandria to visit him during his affliction. He was
a shipwright and a man of great wealth, possessing many corn‐ships; and he
was desirous to have adopted me for his son. But to this I would not
consent, nor did my mother urge me thereto. Howbeit out of love for her
brother, and because she thought it would be for my advantage, she desired
me to visit my uncle for a time. I had no mind to remain in Alexandria,
nor to leave my mother for long. But at my mother’s bidding I was willing
to go to my uncle for a season, if perchance I might comfort him a little.
Two days I spent at Cæsarea Stratonis waiting for the sailing of our
vessel; and during that time my heart was moved within me, for that I saw
on all sides the signs of the power and prosperity of the Gentiles; for a
Gentile city this was, insomuch that, though the wall be on holy ground,
yet was the city itself esteemed of our Scribes to be defiled and in a
Gentile land. For the region round about was called the land of life; but
the city was called the daughter of Edom. A great breakwater here
protecteth the ships from the rage of the sea. Each stone therein is
thirty cubits long, six cubits deep, and seven cubits broad, let down into
water twenty fathom deep. Above the waters the breakwater is of the
breadth of one hundred and forty cubits. Over against the mouth of the
haven standeth a temple dedicated to Cæsar, and thereon two images of
marble, very large, the one of Cæsar, the other of Rome. There is also in
this city a theatre, and an amphitheatre, and a market‐place, after the
manner of the Greeks; and in all parts of the city there were to be seen
baths, and gardens, and palaces, and porticoes, and other public
buildings, all adorned, after the Greek fashion, with images of living
creatures. When I looked on these things, Satan tempted me and said, “God
loveth the Romans more than He loveth the children of Israel; and the
wisdom of the Greeks is greater than the wisdom of Sion.”
More, yea much more grievously did Satan tempt me when I was come to that
great city, even to Alexandria. For here the streets were broader and the
public buildings also larger and goodlier than those of Cæsarea; and in
the streets and public gardens, yea even in the households of the Gentiles
to whom my uncle commended me, I perceived the abominations of idolatry.
For on every side were to be seen images and pictures of false gods and of
demons which they called demigods and heroes; insomuch that the walls of
the houses and the chambers, yea even the seats, and couches, and
ornaments of dress, and utensils of furniture, and instruments of music
were all painted or carven with abominable devices, setting forth the
doings of these demons. But when I heard the interpretation of these
pictures and graven images, then sometimes indeed my heart loathed them
for their lewd and profane spirit; but at other times I was constrained to
confess that there was a certain wondrous beauty and delight in the songs
of certain of the poets of the Gentiles.
Here also men of all nations and religions, Jews and Greeks, Romans and
Egyptians, and strangers from the East, lived all together in peace,
making gain, and worshipping after the traditions of their fathers; and no
one vexed nor oppressed other. All this troubled me, for I said in my
heart, “There is but one God: how then doth the All‐powerful (blessed is
He) endure that the Gentiles should live thus prosperously in the worship
of gods that are no true gods?”
My uncle’s house also was a snare unto me and a temptation; for although
he himself reverenced the Law, yet did he consort with many of our nation
which scoffed at the Scriptures and warred against all sacred things,
making it their delight to have the commandments of the Lord in derision,
and saying to the faithful among their countrymen, “Do ye still make
account of your laws as if they contained the rules of the truth? Yet see,
the Holy Scriptures, as ye call them, contain also fables, such as ye are
accustomed to laugh at, when ye hear others say the like.”
When I rebuked these backsliders and revolters in the presence of my
uncle, he spake kindly to me; yet did his words shake my faith. As for the
Scribes whose teaching I had once so prized, he described them as meaning
well, but not teaching well; and he called them “puzzle‐browed sophists,”
and “those that busy themselves with the letter.” The letter of the Law,
he said, was full of falsehoods, such as the Greeks call myths, which were
intended to warn the wise from cleaving unto the letter of the Law.
Again, he exhorted me not to despise the learning of the Greeks, nor the
teaching of the Gentile Scribes, whom they called “Philosophers.” “For,”
said he, “they enlarge and open the mind and help to the right
understanding of the Law of Israel.” But when I repeated the proverb of my
countrymen, “The very air of Palestine maketh wise,” and said that the
Scribes in Galilee eschewed the Greek learning, warning their pupils
against it, as against a net that entangleth the feet, and when I appealed
to the Scribes of my uncle’s acquaintance, hoping that they should have
been on my side, behold, they were with one consent against me and with my
uncle. For they all said that the Galilean Scribes spake as unlearned men,
and that there was much to be learned from a certain Gentile philosopher
called Plato; and one added a line from a Greek play‐writer which saith
“even from enemies one may win learning.” Then was I staggered in my
judgment, and bent to their opinion, so that I began to frequent the
schools of the philosophers.
But great indeed was my perplexity and bewilderment when I found that
these philosophers treated not of such subjects as I had supposed, namely
of the nature of the soul, and whether it be mortal or immortal, or
whether there be many gods or one God; but they questioned whether the
world came together by chance or by design, and whether there be any God
or no. Yet howsoever they differed among themselves, they agreed all in
believing that our God was not the true God, and that the stories of the
mighty works wrought by Him for our forefathers were mere myths and
fables; or, if any thought otherwise, they held that our stories were no
truer than their stories, and that Æsculapius and Hercules were far more
worthy of honour than Elijah and Samson. Now a certain voice within me
constantly testified that they were in error; for the righteous teaching
of our prophets and our lawyers far exceeded anything that the Gentiles
could shew from their philosophers or lawgivers. But I had been taught by
the Scribes of Galilee not to trust to this voice within me, namely to my
conscience, but only to tradition and authority; and behold, my traditions
and the authority whereon I set store were rejected by these Gentiles:
wherefore I knew not how to answer them.
It came to pass that, on a certain day, going from lecture‐room to
lecture‐room, I perceived a great multitude passing into a hall in the
Great Library, where there was to be a dispute between two philosophers;
so I followed with them. One of the two belonged to the sect called the
Stoics, and the other to the sect called the Epicureans; and the dispute
was concerning the government of the universe by the gods, which is
affirmed by the former sect, but denied by the latter. Now the contention
had endured for the space of a whole day already, and yesterday the Stoic
had delivered his arguments: but to‐day the dispute was to be continued by
the other, and so it was that, when I entered the chamber, the Epicurean
was at the point to speak.
He began with reckoning up how many unjust acts, how many oppressions and
sins, how many diseases and miseries, had been let loose by the gods (if
gods there were) to prey upon the children of men. He set forth the
diverse gods and goddesses worshipped by diverse nations; the gods of the
Grecians and Romans, wrought of marble or ivory; the sword worshipped by
the Scythians; the cat and ibis by the Egyptians. What, he asked, had they
all done for their servants? Then he said that in a certain region of
Syria there lived a nation which professed to reject the gods of other
nations and to believe in one only god: but to what end? Their god had
allowed their enemies to destroy his own temple with fire, and had given
up his chosen people to be the servants of the Romans. He added a story of
one of our learned men, whose life had been blameless and whose teaching
had been of the One True God. “Yet,” said the Epicurean, “what befell this
teacher of truth in his old age? His god delivered him into the hands of
persecutors, who placed his tongue between the teeth of a dog which had
been made exceeding fierce with hunger; and so the dog bit off the tongue
of the pious teacher, even that tongue which had ever spoken words of
truth. What say we then? If there be a god, then he suffered this
wickedness (for without him is naught); and therefore he is wicked. But if
there be no god, then at least we are delivered from the constraint to
believe that the Supreme Governor of the world is worse than the worst of
men.”
The people, who had been on the side of the Epicurean from the first, in
despite of the interruptions of the Stoic, now loudly applauded; and when
it fell to the Stoic to speak, he had little to say. If he discoursed of
oracles as proofs of the divine foreknowledge, then the Epicurean asked
who had ever been profited by oracles, bringing forward many dark sayings
of the gods, which had led men to destruction; and other sayings that
savoured of manifest folly; adding thereto jests and flouts of oracles
drawn from the plays of the comedians. When the Stoic spake of a life
after death, and alleged apparitions of the dead, then his adversary
answered that the said apparitions were mere unsubstantial phantasms, such
as appear to madmen and drunkards when they see all things twofold.
Lastly, when the Stoic spake of judgment after death, and a final
consumption of the world by fire, then the Epicurean demanded proof
hereof; and he laughed at the stories of Minos and Rhadamanthus as nursery
fables and bugbears to frighten babes withal. He also compared the Supreme
Being of the Stoics burning up the world, to an unskilful cook that
burneth the cake that he is baking.
Again the people laughed loudly, and shouted applause; but the Stoic,
touched with choler, left reasoning with his adversary and began to revile
him, calling him atheist and sacrilegious wretch, and other names; which
only made the people laugh the more. But I came forth from the theatre
sick at heart and saddened, not more by the arguments of the Epicurean
than by the faithlessness of the multitude. Then said I, “How know I that
there is a life after death? or who hath returned from the grave to bring
back word thereof? For it is written, ‘Whatsoever thy hand findeth to do,
do it with thy might.’ But wherefore? ‘Even because,’ saith the Scripture,
‘there is no work, nor device, nor knowledge, nor wisdom in the grave
whither thou goest.’” Then again I lamented that I had wasted my years in
labour, and much study had been to me a weariness in the flesh, and I
said, “It would have been wiser to have preferred mirth, for it is
written, ‘A man hath no better thing under the sun than to eat and drink,
and to be merry: for that shall abide with him of his labour the days of
his life, which God giveth him under the sun.’”
From henceforth my days and nights were busied with such questions as
these, which crept into my soul against my will, and would not be driven
out: After death shall I live no more, and will no one even once think of
me, since infinite time burieth all things in forgetfulness? Will it be
even as though I had never been born? When was the world created, and what
was in the beginning before the world? If the world was from all eternity,
then it will always be; but if it had a beginning, then must it likewise
have an end. And, after the end of the world, what will be then? What
perhaps but the silence of death?
Being constantly given up to such thoughts, I resorted yet more diligently
to the schools of the philosophers, hoping to obtain some deliverance from
my doubts: but I saw nothing but the contentions of orators, and the
foyning and thrusting of rhetoricians, fighting not for the truth, but
each desiring to prove himself more skilful than his adversaries. So it
came to pass that I inclined, now to one, now to another. As, for example,
at one time they that taught the immortality of the soul seemed to
prevail; then again they that would have the soul to be mortal. When the
former doctrine had the upper hand, I rejoiced: when the latter, I was
downcast. Thus was I driven to and fro by differing opinions, and was
forced to conclude that things appear not as they are in themselves, but
as they happen to be presented on this side, or on that. My brain was in a
greater whirl than ever, and I sighed from the bottom of my heart.
At the last I went to my uncle in my distress, and poured forth my
troubles in his ear. But when he had hearkened to my complaints, he said,
“It will be well that thou shouldst have speech with Philo; for he is our
principal teacher here, and he will answer thy doubts.” But I said in my
haste and impatience, “Behold, I have resorted unto the wisest teachers in
Galilee, and now, at thy word, I have frequented the lectures of these
Gentile philosophers; but they have added nothing to me, for they are as
dried‐up springs.” At this my uncle laughed, and said, “Suppose not, O son
of my sister, that our Philo is like unto the Scribes of Galilee: for as
well might a dog hope to lap up the Nile as that thou shouldst drain dry
the wisdom of Philo the Alexandrine.” So without more ado I accompanied
him to the house of Philo.
When we entered the house of Philo, I admired first of all the homely
plainness of his household. For though he were one of the foremost Jews in
Alexandria (and there were nigh unto a hundred myriads of our countrymen
in the city and the country round about) and kinsman also to Alexander the
Alabarch, whose wealth was known to all, yet were there no signs of
luxury, nor of pride in his house, nor in his furniture nor in his
clothing: and his wife also wore a plain and simple garment without
plaiting of the hair, or painting, or adornment with gold and precious
stones; and in all the house there was naught whereat the strictest
Pharisee could have been offended.
Philo received us courteously; and when I had opened to him at large all
my doubts, he replied fully to them. I cannot at this time set down
exactly all that we spake together; but this was the substance. First, I
said that I was loth to be as one of the backsliders among my countrymen,
who in effect gave up the Law, deriding it as a heap of fables; yet on the
other hand, I confessed that after much study of the Law I had not been
able to attain to righteousness nor peace. Thereto Philo made answer that
he was not one of them that rejected the Law of Israel; for he diligently
observed it, believing that it contained all knowledge and all wisdom;
“and,” said he, “I consider that Moses was the greatest and most perfect
of men, and that he attained unto the very pinnacle of wisdom.(1) But as
for the wisdom of the Greeks, it is but as a handmaid in respect of our
wisdom; even as the slave Hagar was, in respect of her mistress and queen,
Sarah. Notwithstanding,” added he, “when I speak of our Scriptures, I mean
that there are two interpretations of every Scripture. There is first the
outer meaning, which is as it were the body; but there is, next, the inner
spiritual meaning, which is, as it were, the soul. Thus, for example, when
thou readest that Eve was made out of the rib of Adam, or that the world
was made in six days, or that God talked with Moses in a thorn‐bush, the
letter of these Scriptures is indeed fable, but the spiritual meaning is
truth and life.” Then said I, “If the letter be fable, why retain the
letter?” But he said, “And if the body be unspiritual, why retain the
body? As well cast away the body because it is not soul, as cast away the
letter because it is not spirit.”
Then I asked, “But how shall I attain righteousness?” Philo replied, “All
men have in them a certain spiritual nature, in virtue whereof they are
allied with the Word of God. Whosoever recogniseth the sins wherewith he
is defiled, hath the power (if he will use it) of rising above his
passions, and conquering his lusts, so that in the end, by repentance and
by constant struggling after righteousness, he can follow after the
virtues of the Father in heaven who begat him.” Then said I, “All this
have I done; for I have now these many years observed not only the words
of the Law, but also the Traditions of the Elders; yet have I not attained
peace.” But he said, “Thou puttest first that which should come second;
first aim after the virtues that have to do with men; afterward shalt thou
attain the virtue that hath to do with God.” “It would seem therefore,”
said I, “that thou dost not advise thy disciples to withdraw themselves
from the world, after the manner of hermits.” “Yea, but I do advise them,”
said Philo; “only first men should attain to the lower step before aiming
at the higher. For first, they should study truthfulness, striving to love
their neighbours, and to be helpful and gentle to all; for man should be
gentle, and not savage, being fitted by nature for fellowship and concord.
But after that thou hast attained to this lower stage, my counsel is that
thou forsake thy home and thy friends, and thy wealth, and all that thou
hast, and that thou abstain from business of state, and from all traffic,
and that thou give thyself entirely to the contemplation of the divine
essence.”
Then said I, “Methinks, many of our Scribes in Galilee would not please
thee; for they seek after righteousness by other ways, observing the
smallest matters of the Law, and afflicting the flesh.” “Tell such an one
from me,” said Philo, “when thou shalt see him perchance abstaining from
food or drink at the times of eating, or disdaining the bath and the use
of oil, or tormenting himself with a hard couch or with night‐watchings,
deceiving himself with this show of abstinence, that he is not in the true
way to continence, and that all his labour is in vain.”
“But what,” asked I, “is this highest revelation of the essence of the
Supreme (blessed is He) to which the soul shall at last attain?” Philo
paused a moment and then answered, “Thou shalt attain to the knowledge of
God, as mere being or existence.” But I, not understanding him aright,
said, “Thou sayest ‘existence:’ dost thou mean ‘holy existence’?” But
Philo answered with a smile, “How can we call Him holy who is holier than
all holiness? But by ‘mere existence,’ I mean that which is known as
existence and in no other way.” Then I said, “May we not therefore call
Him good? or loving?” “Call Him so,” replied Philo, “if thou dost not
believe that He is better than all goodness, more loving than all love.”
Hereat my heart sank within me; for such a God as this “mere existence”
seemed to me not a being able to love me nor to be loved by me, no more
than if it had been a triangle or a circle. But presently I called to mind
that Moses had named God the Father of the spirits of all flesh: and the
prophets also had named God Father. Therefore said I to Philo, “And the
name Father also? May we not give this name to God?” “No,” said Philo,
“except in order to teach the common folk; as when the Scripture saith
that God chasteneth those whom He loveth, like as a father chasteneth his
son. For God cannot change; neither can He feel anger, nor love, nor joy.
But when the Scripture sayeth such words as these, it speaketh for the
common multitude, even as when it saith that God spake or heard; or that
He smelled a sweet savour; or that He awaked from sleep; or that He
repented of that which He had done.”
When I heard this, it seemed to me that I had come to Philo for naught;
but I said to him, “Thou speakest of that revelation of God, which thou
callest mere existence, as being the highest revelation. Is there then a
lower revelation?” “Certainly,” he replied, “for just as there is, in
human life, the thing and the word that revealeth the thing, even so is
there also on the one hand God, the true God, THAT WHICH IS, and on the
other hand the Word of God, which revealeth God to the minds of men.” Then
I questioned him concerning this Word of God, or Logos (as he called it,
using a Greek name): and he answered me fully, yet not so that I could
altogether understand him. But this I gathered, that the Word or Logos was
a second divine being, inseparable from the Father; and that by the Word
was the world made. But sometimes he said that the world, as conceived by
the intellect, _was_ the Word, (“for,” said he, “as a city, not yet being,
is in the mind or reason of the architect thereof, so the world, albeit
not being, was in the mind or reason of God”;) and with these exact words
he made an end of this part of his discourse, for I set them down at the
time: “If any one should desire to use still plainer terms, he would not
call the world (regarded as perceptible only to the intellect) as anything
else but the Reason of God busied with the creation of the world; for
neither is a city, while only perceptible to the intellect, anything else
except the reason of the architect.”
Then said I, “But how do men attain to the revelation of the Word?” “By
the exercise of the divine Word or Reason within them,” said Philo; “for
all men have in themselves a ray of light from the archetypal Light, the
Word of the Supreme Being. For no mortal thing is framed, nor could have
been framed, in the similitude of the Supreme Father; but only after the
pattern of the second deity, the Word. Now this Word can be received of
all them that will live according to it. For the race of mankind is
twofold, the one being the race of them that live by the Divine Spirit and
reason; the other, of such as live according to the pleasures of the
flesh. The universe therefore, apprehended by the reason of man, conveyeth
the revelation of the Word. And this revelation, this heavenly food of the
soul (which Moses calleth manna), the Word of God meteth out in equal
portions among all them which are to use it. For the blessed soul
proffereth her own reason as the holy goblet of true joy. But who can pour
forth the wine of life, save only the Cup‐bearer of God, the Master of the
Feast, the Word? And indeed the Cup‐bearer differeth in no wise from the
draught. For the Word is the draught itself, pure and unpolluted.”
Then it was borne in upon my mind, that in all his discourse (which
inforced attention by reason of the beauty of his sayings, and because of
his exceeding earnestness) he had left no place for the Messiah or
Redeemer of Israel, whose coming had been prophesied by John, the son of
Zachariah. Therefore I questioned him of this matter. But he smiled and
said, “Trouble not thyself on this matter; for it is likely that no
Messiah is to come. But it will come to pass, in the day of Redemption,
that the children of Israel, which be now scattered over the earth, will
be led from all parts back to the Sacred Land, by the light of a great
light invisible to all others, but visible only to such as are to be
saved.” Then, seeing that I was of a sad countenance, he added, “Dost thou
not perceive that the revelation of a Messiah would be as much inferior to
the revelation of the Word, or Logos, as the revelation of the Logos is
itself inferior to the revelation of mere existence, _τὸ ὄν_, or THAT
WHICH IS? For the revelation of the Logos (that is of God known by
creation) is through hope and fear; but the revelation of _τὸ ὄν_ (that is
God in itself) is through love. And the revelation of a Messiah must needs
be a poor and low thing as compared with either of these. But thou
shouldst aspire towards the highest revelation of all, even the Father of
all, with a divinely inspired passion not inferior to the _enthousiasmos_
wherewith the worshippers of the gods of the Gentiles celebrate their
inferior rites.”
The day was now far spent: so my uncle arose to bid Philo farewell. I
thanked him with my whole heart: for righteousness and goodness breathed
in his presence; and my spirit was refreshed while I heard him speak. For
the very voice of the Lord seemed to sound from him when he said that to
afflict the flesh was of no avail without afflicting the spirit, and that
the practice of virtue with men should go before the practice of virtue
with God. But when I was departed from him, musing as I returned home,
then I saw that the philosophy of Philo could in no wise give me peace.
For it was not possible that I should feel that _enthousiasmos_, or divine
passion, whereof he made mention, for such a being as Mere Existence: and
methought I could feel this _enthousiasmos_ for none save a man, or some
similitude of a man.
Therefore my heart went back to that lower revelation whereof he spake, to
wit, to God revealed through the world; that is, the Word: and this seemed
to me more likely to give peace. But as for Mere Existence, albeit Philo
called it the Father of all, yet had he plainly told me he meant this only
for the unlearned multitude. And whereas he used one word, God, to signify
two things, one thing for the learned, and another for the unlearned;
herein, to say truth, his doctrine brought to my mind a certain tale of
the poet Homer, which my uncle had but yesternight related unto me; how a
certain mighty man of valour, and a wise counsellor among the Greeks,
Ulysses by name, deceived the giant Polyphemus, saying that his name was
NOMAN. Wherefore, when Polyphemus said that NOMAN had blinded him, his
brethren, the giants, thought that he meant to say that not a man, but a
god, had blinded him. And even so Philo seemed to me, when he spake to the
wise and learned, to call God _no man_; but when he spake to the foolish
and unlearned, he called Him NOMAN, making them think He was a person.
But what troubled me in this revelation was, that it seemed not to leave
any room or place for the Messiah, the Redeemer of Israel. And “Why,”
thought I, “should the Word reveal himself only through the world, and not
through mankind? But if he revealed himself through mankind (which Philo
also would allow), why might he not reveal himself through a Messiah?” All
that night I lay awake musing on the same thing, and asking whether it
might not be that Philo spake truth in proclaiming the revelation of the
Word, and yet John the son of Zachariah might also speak truth in
proclaiming the revelation of the Messiah. But after long tossing of the
matter in my mind I concluded that there was no cause why the one should
destroy the other: so I prayed that both might be true.
But as for my former studies, and my old strict observances of the Sabbath
and of the precepts concerning the use of purifications and concerning the
consumption of nail‐parings, and concerning the wearing of tassels,
behold, all these matters began to seem unto me things far off, forgotten,
and childish. And though I knew not clearly whither to turn, yet I felt at
least that to them I could return no more; for I perceived that, even if I
became as perfect in these matters as Abuyah the son of Elishah himself,
yet should I none the more attain to peace, nor could I find in them that
food for want whereof my soul was an‐hungered. Wherefore I was now
resolved in my mind of this one thing, in any case, namely, that the
observance of the smaller precepts of the Law could not gain for me that
Banquet, or Manna, or heavenly Draught of the Word of God whereof Philo
had made mention. But what the true Manna might be, or how I might attain
to it, this I did not as yet perceive. For I was, at that time, even as a
little child in a boat without oars or sail, which hath drifted out
unawares far into the open sea.