A TREATISE
ON THE
DOCTRINE THAT DREAMS ARE SENT FROM GOD.
Philo Judaeus
BOOK I.
I. THE treatise before this one has contained our opinions on those visions sent from heaven which are classed under the first species; in reference to which subject we delivered our opinion that the Deity sent the appearances which are beheld by man in dreams in accordance with the suggestions of his own nature. But in this treatise we will, to the best of our power, describe those dreams which come under the second species.
Now the second species is that in which our mind, being moved simultaneously with the mind of the universe, has appeared to be hurried away by itself and to be under the influence of divine impulses, so as to be rendered capable of comprehending beforehand, and knowing by anticipation some of the events of the future. Now the first dream which is akin to the species which I have been describing, is that which appeared on the ladder which reached up to heaven, and which was of this kind.
“And Jacob dreamed, and behold a ladder was firmly planted on the earth,
the head of which reached up to heaven; and the angels of God were ascending
and descending on it. And behold there was a ladder firmly planted on the
earth, and the Lord was standing steadily upon it; and he said, I am the
God of Abraham thy father, and the God of Isaac: be not afraid. The earth
on which thou art sleeping I will give unto thee and unto thy seed, and
thy seed shall be as the dust of the earth, and it shall be multiplied
as the sand on the seashore, and shall spread to the south, and to the
north, and to the east; and in thee shall all the kindreds of the earth
be blessed, and in thy seed also. And, behold, I am with thee, keeping
thee in all thy ways, by whichever thou goest, and I will bring thee again
into this land; because I will not leave thee until I have done everything
which I have said thee.” [Genesis xxviii. 12.]
But the previous consideration of the circumstances of this vision require
that we should examine them with accuracy, and then perhaps we shall be
able to comprehend what is indicated by the vision. What, then, are the
previous circumstances? The scripture tells us, “And Jacob went up from
the well of the oath, and came to Charran, and went into a place and lay
down there until the sun arose. And he took one of the stones of the place
and placed it at his head, and went to sleep in that place.” And immediately
afterwards came the dream. Therefore it is well at the outset to raise
a question on these three points:- One, What was the well of the oath,
[Genesis xxvi. 33] and why was it called by this name? Secondly, What is
Charran, and why, after Jacob had departed from the well before-mentioned,
did he immediately go to Charran? Thirdly, What was the place, and why,
when he was in it, did the sun at once set, and did he go to sleep?
II. Let us then at once begin and consider the first of these points. To me, then, the well appears to be an emblem of knowledge; for its nature is not superficial, but very deep. Nor does it lie in an open place, but a well is fond of being hidden somewhere in secret. Nor is it found with ease, but only after great labor and with difficulty; and this too is seen to be the case with sciences, not only with such as have great and indescribable subjects of speculation, but even with respect to such as are the most insignificant. Choose, therefore, whichever art you please; not the most excellent, but even the most obscure of all, which perhaps no one who has been bred a free man in the whole city would ever study of his own accord, and which scarcely any servant in the field would attend to, who, against his will, was a slave to some morose and illtempered master who compelled him to do many unpleasant things.
For the matter will be found to be not a simple one, but rather one of
great complications and variety, not easy to be seized upon, but difficult
to discover, difficult to master, hostile to delay, and indolence and indifference,
full of earnestness and contention, and sweat, and care. For which reason
“those who dig in this well say that they cannot find even water in it;”
because the ends of science are not only hard to discover, but are even
altogether undiscoverable; and it is owing to this that one man is more
thoroughly skilled in grammar or in geometry than another, because of its
being impossible to circumscribe, increase, and extend one within certain
limits; for there is always more that is left behind than what comes to
be learnt; and what is left watches for and catches the learner, so that
even he who fancies that he has comprehended and mastered the very extremities
of knowledge would be considered but half perfect by another person who
was his judge, and if he were before the tribunal of truth would appear
to be only beginning knowledge; for life is short, as some one has said,
but art is long; of which that man most thoroughly comprehends the magnitude,
who sincerely and honestly plunges deeply into it, and who digs it out
like a well. And such a man, when he is at the point of death, being now
grey-headed and exceedingly old, it is said, wept, not that he feared death
as being a coward, but out of a desire for instruction, as feeling that
he was now, for the first time, entering upon it when he was finally departing
from life.
For the soul flourishes for the pursuit of knowledge when the prime vigor of the body is withering away from the lapse of time; therefore, before one has arrived at one’s prime and vigor by reason of a more accurate comprehension of things, it is not difficult to be tripped up. But this accident is common to all people who are fond of learning, to whom new subjects of contemplation are continually rising up and striving after old ones, the soul itself producing many such subjects when it is not barren and unproductive. And nature, also, unexpectedly and spontaneously displaying a great number to those who are gifted with acute and penetrating intellects. Therefore the well of knowledge is shown to be of this kind, having no boundary and no end.
We must now explain why it was called the well of the oath. Those matters which are doubted about are decided by an oath, and those which are uncertain are confirmed in the same manner, and so, too, those which want certification receive it; from which facts this inference is drawn, that there is no subject respecting which any one can make an affirmation with greater certainty than he can respecting the fact that the race of wisdom is without limitation and without end. It is well, therefore, to enroll one’s self under the banners of one who discusses these matters without an oath; but he who is not very much inclined to assent to the assertions of another will at least assent to them when he has made oath to their correctness. But let no one refuse to take an oath of this kind, well knowing that he will have his name inscribed on pillars among those who are faithful to their oaths.
III. However, enough of this. The next thing must be to consider why it
is that as four wells had been dug by the servants of Abraham and Isaac,
the fourth and last was called the well of the oath. May it not be that
the sacred historian here desires to represent, in a figurative manner,
that as in the universe there are four elements of which this world is
composed, and as there are an equal number in ourselves, of which we have
been fashioned before we were moulded into our human shape, three of them
are capable of being comprehended somehow or other, but the fourth is unintelligible
to all who come forward as judges of it. Accordingly, we find that the
four elements in the world are the earth, and the water, and the air, and
the heaven, of which, even if some are difficult to find, they are still
not classed in the utterly undiscoverable portion.
For that the earth, because it is a heavy, and indissoluble, and solid
substance, is divided into mountains and champaign districts, and intersected
by rivers and seas, so that some portion of it consists of islands, and
some portions are continent. And again, some of it has a shallow and some
a deep soil; and some is rough, and rugged, and strong, and altogether
barren; and some is smooth and delicate, and exceedingly fertile; and besides
all these facts we know a great number of others relative to the earth.
And again, there is the water, which we know has many of the aforesaid
qualities in common with the earth, and many also peculiar to itself; for
some of it is sweet, and some brackish, and some is mixed up of various
characteristics; and some is good to drink, and some is not drinkable;
and, moreover, neither of these last qualities is invariable with respect
to every creature, but there are some to which it is the one and not the
other, and vice versa. Again, some water is by nature cold, and other water
naturally hot; for there is in all sorts of places an infinite number of
springs pouring forth hot water, not on the land only but even in the sea:
at all events, there have appeared before now veins pouring up warm water
in the middle of the sea, which all the enormous efflux of salt water in
all the sea that encircles the world, pouring over them from all eternity,
has never been able to extinguish, nor even in the least degree to diminish.
Again, we know that the air has an attractive nature, yielding to such
bodies as surround it in an altitude of resistance, being the organ of
life, and breath, and sight, and hearing, and all the rest of the external
senses, admitting of rarification, and condensation, and motion, and tranquillity,
and changes, and variations of every kind, by which it is altered and modified,
and generating summers and winters, and the seasons of autumn and spring,
by means of which the circle of the year is at last brought to a conclusion.
IV. All these things, then, we feel: but the heaven has a nature which
is incomprehensible, and it has never conveyed to us any distinct indication
by which we can understand its nature; for what can we say? that it is
solid ice, as some persons have chosen to assert? or that it is the purest
fire? or that it is a fifth body, moving in a circle having no participation
in any of the four elements? For what can we say? Has that most remote
sphere of the fixed stars any density in an upward direction? or is it
merely a superficies devoid of all depth, something like a plane figure?
And what are the stars? Are they masses of earth full of fire? For some
persons have said that they are hills, and valleys, and thickets, men who
are worthy of a prison and a treadmill, or of any place where there are
instruments proper for the punishment of impious persons; or are they,
as some one has defined them, a continuous and dense harmony, the closely
packed, indissoluble mass of aether?
Again, are they animated and intelligent? or are they destitute alike of mind and vitality? Have they their motions in consequence of any choice of their own? or merely because they are compulsory?
What, again, are we to say of the moon? Does she show us a light of her
own, or a borrowed and illegitimate one, only reflected from the rays of
the sun? or is neither of these things true, but has she something mixed,
as it were, so as to be a sort of combination of her own light and of that
which belongs to some other body? For all these things, and others like
them, belonging to the fourth and most excellent of the bodies in the world,
namely, the heaven, are uncertain and incomprehensible, and are spoken
of in accordance with conjectures and guesses, and not with the solid,
certain reasoning of truth, so that a person might venture to swear that
no mortal man will ever be able to comprehend any one of these matters
clearly. At all events, the fourth and dry well was called the well of
the oath on this account, because the search after the fourth element in
the world, that is to say the heaven, is without any result, and is in
every respect fruitless.
V. But let us now see in what manner that fourth element in us is by nature in such an especial and singular manner incomprehensible.
There are, then, four principal elements in us, the body, the external
sense, the speech, and the mind. Now of these, three are not uncertain
or unintelligible in every respect, but they contain some indication in
themselves by which they are comprehended. Now what is my meaning in this
statement? We know already that the body is divisible into three parts.
and that it is capable of motion in six directions, inasmuch as it has
three dimensions, in length, in depth, in breadth; and twice as many motions,
namely six, the upward motion, the downward motion, that to the right,
that to the left, the forward, and the backward motion. But, moreover,
we are not ignorant that it is the vessel of the soul; and we are also
aware that it is subject to the changes of being young, of decaying, of
growing old, of dying, of undergoing dissolution. And with respect to the
outward senses, we are not, so far as that is concerned, utterly dull and
mutilated, but we are able to say that that also is divided into five divisions,
and that there are appropriate organs for the development of each sense
formed by nature; for instance, the eyes for seeing, the ears for hearing,
the nostrils for smelling, and the other organs for the exercise of the
respective senses to which they are adapted, and also that we may call
these outward senses messengers of the mind which inform it of colors,
and shapes, and sounds, and the peculiar differences of vapors, and flavors,
and, in short, which describe to it all bodies, and all the distinctive
qualities which exist in them.
They also may be looked upon as body-guards of the soul, informing it of all that they see or hear; and if anything injurious attacks it from without, they foresee it, and guard against it, so that it may not enter by chance and unawares, and so become the cause of irremediable disaster to their mistress.
Again, the voice does not entirely escape our comprehension; but we know that one voice is shrill and another deep; that one is tuneful and harmonious, and another dissonant and very unmusical; and again, one voice is more powerful, and another less so. And they differ also in ten thousand other particulars, in kind, in complexion, in distance, in combined and separate tension of the tones, in the symphonies of fourths, of fifths, and of the diapason. Moreover, there are some things which we know also with respect to that articulate voice which has been allotted to man alone of all animals, as, for instance, we know that it is emitted by the mind, that it receives its articulate distinctness in the mouth, that it is by the striking of the tongue that articulate utterance is impressed upon the tones of the voice, and which renders the uttered sound not only a bare, naked, useless noise, void of all characteristic, and that it discharges the office of a herald or interpreter towards the mind which suggests it.
VI. Now then is the fourth element which exists within us, the dominant mind, comprehensible to us in the same manner as these other divisions ? Certainly not; for what do we think it to be in its essence? Do we look upon it as spirit, or as blood, or, in short, as any bodily substance! But it is not a substance, but must be pronounced incorporeal. Is it then a limit, or a species, or a number, or a continued act, or a harmony, or any existing thing whatever? Is it, the very first moment that we are born, infused into us from without, or is it some warm nature in us which is cooled by the air which is diffused around us, like a piece of iron which has been heated at a forge, and then being plunged into cold water, is by that process tempered and hardened? (And perhaps it is from the cooling process ('psuzis') to which it is thus submitted that the soul ('he psyche') derives its name.) What more shall we say? When we die, is it extinguished
and destroyed together with our bodies? or does it continue to live a long
time? or, thirdly, is it wholly incorruptible and immortal?
Again, where, in what part does this mind lie hid? Has it received any settled habitation? For some men have dedicated to it our head, as the principal citadel, around which all the outward senses have their lairs; thinking it natural that its body-guards should be stationed near it, as near the palace of a mighty king. Some again contend earnestly in favor of the position which they assign it, believing that it is enshrined like a statue in the heart.
Therefore now the fourth element is incomprehensible, in the world the
heaven, in comparison of the nature of the earth, of the water, and of
the air; and the mind in man, in comparison of the body and the outward
sense, and the speech, which is the interpreter of the mind; may it not
be the case also, that for this reason the fourth year is described as
holy and praiseworthy in the sacred scriptures? For among created things,
the heaven is holy in the world, in accordance with which body, the imperishable
and indestructible natures revolve; and in man the mind is holy, being
a sort of fragment of the Deity, and especially according to the statement
of Moses, who says, “God breathed into his face the breath of life, and
man became a living soul.” [Genesis ii. 7.]
And it appears to me, that it is not without reason that both these things
are called praiseworthy; for these two things, the heaven and the mind,
are the things which are able to utter, with all becoming dignity, the
praises, and hymns, and glory, and beatitude of the Father who created
them: for man has received an especial honor beyond all other animals,
namely, that of ministering to the living God. And the heaven is always
singing melodies, perfecting an all-musical harmony, in accordance with
the motions of all the bodies which exist therein; of which, if the sound
ever reached our ears, love, which could not be restrained, and frantic
desires, and furious impetuosity, which could not be put an end to or pacified,
would be engendered, and would compel us to give up even what is necessary,
nourishing ourselves no longer like ordinary mortals on the meat and drink,
which is received by means of our throat, but on the inspired songs of
music in its highest perfection, as persons about to be made immortal through
the medium of their ears: and it is said that Moses [Exodus xxiv. 18] was
an incorporeal hearer of these melodies, when he went for forty days, and
an equal number of nights, without at all touching any bread or any water.
VII. Therefore the heaven, which is the archetypal organ of music, appears
to have been arranged in a most perfect manner, for no other object except
that the hymns sung to the honor of the Father of the universe, might be
attuned in a musical manner; and we hear that virtue, that is to say, Leah,
[Genesis xxix. 35] after the birth of her fourth son, was no longer able
to bring forth any more, but restrained, or perhaps I should say, was restrained,
as to her generative powers; for she found, I conceive, all her generative
power dry and barren, after she had brought forth Judah, that is to say,
“confession,” the perfect fruit: and the phrase, “Leah desisted from bearing
children,” differs in no respect from the statement, that “the children
of Isaac found no water in the fourth well.” [Genesis xxvi. 32.] Since
it appears from both these figurative expressions, that every creature
thirsts for God, by whom all their births take place, and from whom nourishment
is bestowed to them when they are born.
Perhaps therefore some petty cavilling critics will imagine that all this
statement about the digging of the wells is a superfluous piece of prolixity
on the part of the lawgiver: but those who deserve a larger classification,
being citizens not of some petty state but of the wide world, being men
of more perfect wisdom, will know well that the real question is not about
the four wells, but about the parts of the universe that the men who are
gifted with sight, and are fond of contemplation exercise their powers
of investigation; namely, about the earth, the water, the air, and the
heaven. And examining each of these matters with the most accurately refined
conception, in three of them they have found some things within the reach
of their comprehension; on which account they have given these names, injustice,
enmity, and latitude to what they have discovered. But in the fourth, that
is to say in heaven, they have found absolutely nothing whatever, which
they could comprehend; as we explained a little time ago: for the fourth
is found to be a well destitute of water, and dry; and for the reason above
mentioned it is called a well.
VIII. We will now investigate what comes next, and inquire what Charran is, and why the man who went up from the well came to it. Charran then, as it appears to me, is a sort of metropolis of the outward senses: and it is interpreted at one time a pit dug, at another time holes; one fact being intimated by both these names; for our bodies are in a manner dug out to furnish the organs of the outward senses, and each of the organs is a sort of hole for the corresponding outward sense in which it shelters itself as in a cave: when therefore any one goes up from the well which is called the well of the oath, as if he were leaving a harbor, he immediately does of necessity come to Charran: for it is a matter of necessity that the outward senses should receive one who comes on an emigration from that most excellent country of knowledge, unbounded as it is in extent, without any guide.
For our soul is very often set in motion by its own self after it has put off the whole burden of the body, and has escaped from the multitude of the outward senses; and very often too, even while it is still clothed in them.
Therefore by its own simple motion it has arrived at the comprehension
of those things which are appreciable only by the intellect; and by the
motion of the body, it has attained to an understanding of those things
which are perceptible by the outward senses; therefore, if any one is unable
altogether to associate with the mind alone, he then finds for himself
a second refuge, namely, the external senses; and whoever fails in attaining
to a comprehension of the things which are intelligible only by the intellect
is immediately drawn over to the objects of the outward senses; for the
second organ is always to the outward senses, in the case of those things
which are not able to make a successful one as far as the dominant mind.
But it is well for man not to grow old or to spend all his time in this
course either, but rather, as if they were straying in a foreign country
like sojourners, to be always seeking for second migration, and for a return
to their native land.
Therefore Laban, knowing absolutely nothing of either species or genus,
or form, or conception, or of anything else whatever which is comprehended
by the intellect alone, and depending solely on what lies externally visible,
and such things as come under the notice of the eyes, and the ears, and
the other hundred faculties, is thought worthy of Charran for his country,
which Jacob, the lover of virtue, inhabits as a foreign land for a short
time, always bearing in his recollection his return homewards; therefore
his mother, perseverance, that is Rebecca, says to him, “Rise up and flee
to Laban, my brother, to Charran, and dwell with him certain days.” [Genesis
xxvii. 43.] Do you not perceive then that the practiser of virtue will
not endure to live permanently in the country of the outward senses, but
only to remain there a few days and a short time, on account of the necessities
of the body to which he is bound? But a longer time and an entire life
is allotted to him in the city which is appreciable only by the intellect.
IX. In reference to which fact, also, it appears to me to be that his grandfather
also, by name Abraham, so called from his knowledge, would not endure to
remain any great length of time in Charran, for it is said in the scriptures
that “Abraham was seventy-five years old when he departed from Charran;”
[Genesis xii. 4] although his father Terah, which name being interpreted
means, the investigation of a smell, lived there till the day of his death.
[Genesis xvii. 32.] Therefore it is expressly stated in the sacred scriptures
that “Terah died in Charran,” for he was only a reconnoitrer of virtue,
not a citizen. And he availed himself of smells, and not of the enjoyments
of food, as he was not able as yet to fill himself with wisdom, nor indeed
even to get a taste of it, but only to smell it; for as it is said that
those dogs which are calculated for hunting can by exerting their faculty
of smell, find out the lurking places of their game at a great distance,
being by nature rendered wonderfully acute as to the outward sense of smell;
so in the same manner the lover of instruction tracks out the sweet breeze
which is given forth by justice, and by any other virtue, and is eager
to watch those qualities from which this most admirable source of delight
proceeds, and while he is unable to do so he moves his head all round in
a circle, smelling out nothing else, but seeking only for that most sacred
scent of excellence and food, for he does not deny that he is eager for
knowledge and wisdom.
Blessed therefore are they to whom it has happened to enjoy the delights of wisdom, and to feast upon its speculations and doctrines, and even of the being cheered by them still to thirst for more, feeling an insatiable and inceasing desire for knowledge. And those will obtain the second place who are not allured indeed to enjoy the sacred table, but who nevertheless refresh their souls with its odors; for they will be excited by the fragrances of virtue like those languid invalids who, because they are not as yet able to take solid food, nevertheless feed on the smell of such viands as the sons of the physicians prepare as a sort of remedy for their impotency.
X. Therefore, having left the land of the Chaldaeans, Terah is said to have migrated to Charran; bringing with him his son Abraham and the rest of his household who agreed with him in opinion, not in order that we might read in the account of the historical chronicles that some men had become emigrants, leaving their native country and becoming inhabitants of a foreign land as if it were their own country, but in order that a lesson of the greatest importance to life and full of wisdom, and adapted to man alone, might not be neglected.
And what is the lesson? The Chaldaeans are great astronomers, and the inhabitants
of Charran occupy themselves with the topics relating to the external senses.
Therefore the sacred account says to the investigator of the things of
nature, why are you inquiring about the sun, and asking whether he is a
foot broad, whether he is greater than the whole earth put together, or
whether he is even many times as large? And why are you investigating the
causes of the light of the moon, and whether it has a borrowed light, or
one which proceeds solely from itself? Why, again, do you seek to understand
the nature of the rest of the stars, of their motion, of their sympathy
with one another, and even with earthly things? And why, while walking
upon the earth do you soar above the clouds? And why, while rooted in the
solid land, do you affirm that you can reach the things in the sky? And
why do you endeavor to form conjectures about matters which cannot be ascertained
by conjecture? And why do you busy yourself about sublime subjects which
you ought not to meddle with? And why do you extend your desire to make
discoveries in mathematical science as far as the heaven? And why do you
devote yourself to astronomy, and talk about nothing but high subjects?
My good man, do not trouble your head about things beyond the ocean, but
attend only to what is near you; and be content rather to examine yourself
without flattery.
How, then, will you find out what you want, even if you are successful?
Go with full exercise of your intellect to Charran, that is, to the trench
which is dug, into the holes and caverns of the body, and investigate the
eyes, the ears, the nostrils, and the other organs of the external senses;
and if you wish to be a philosopher, study philosophically that branch
which is the most indispensable and at the same time the most becoming
to a man, and inquire what the faculty of sight is, what hearing is, what
taste, what smell, what touch is, in a word, what is external sense; then
seek to understand what it is to see, and how you see; what it is to hear,
and how you hear; what it is to smell, or to taste, or to touch, and how
each of these operations is ordinarily effected. But is it not the very
extravagance of insane folly to seek to comprehend the dwelling of the
universe, before your own private dwelling is accurately known to you?
But I do not as yet lay the more important and extensive injunction upon
you to make yourself acquainted with your own soul and mind, of the knowledge
of which you are so proud; for in reality you will never be able to comprehend
it.
Mount up then to heaven, and talk arrogantly about the things which exist there, before you are as yet able to comprehend, according to the words of the poet,
“All the good and all the evil
Which thy own abode contains;”
and, bringing down that messenger of yours from heaven, and dragging him
down from his search into matters existing there, become acquainted with
yourself, and carefully and diligently labor to arrive at such happiness
as is permitted to man. Now this disposition the Hebrews called Terah,
and the Greeks Socrates; for they say also that the latter grew old in
the most accurate study by which he could hope to know himself, never once
directing his philosophical speculations to the subjects beyond himself.
But he was really a man; but Terah is the principle itself which is proposed
to every one, according to which each man should know himself, like a tree
full of good branches, in order that these persons who are fond of virtue
might without difficulty gather the fruit of pure morality, and thus become
filled with the most delightful and saving food.
Such, then, are those men who reconnoiter the quarters of wisdom for us;
but those who are actually her athletes, and who practise her exercises,
are more perfect. For these men think fit to learn with complete accuracy
the whole question connected with the external senses, and after having
done so, then to proceed to another and more important speculation, leaving
all consideration of the holes of the body which they call Charran. Of
the number of these men is Abraham, who attained to great progress and
improvement in the comprehension of complete knowledge; for when he knew
most, then he most completely renounced himself in order to attain to the
accurate knowledge of him who was the truly living God. And, indeed, this
is a very natural course of events; for he who completely understands himself
does also very much, because of his thorough appreciation of it, renounce
the universal nothingness of the creature; and he who renounces himself
learns to comprehend the living God.
XI. We have now, then, explained what Charran is, and why he who left the
well of the oath came thither. We must now consider the third point which
comes next in order, namely, what the place is to which this man came;
for it is said, “He met him in the place.” [Genesis xxviii. 11.] Now place
is considered in three ways: firstly, as a situation filled by a body;
secondly, as the divine word which God himself has filled wholly and entirely
with incorporeal powers; for says the scripture, “I have seen the place
in which the God of Israel stood,” [Exodus xxiv. 10] in which alone he
permitted his prophet to perform sacrifice to him, forbidding him to do
so in other places. For he is ordered to go up into the place which the
Lord God shall choose, and there to sacrifice burnt offerings and sacrifices
for salvation, and to bring other victims also without spot.
According to the third signification, God himself is called a place, from
the fact of his surrounding the universe, and being surrounded himself
by nothing whatever, and from the fact of his being the refuge of all persons,
and since he himself is his own district, containing himself and resembling
himself alone. I, indeed, am not a place, but I am in a place, and every
existing being is so in a similar manner. So that which is surrounded differs
from that which surrounds it; but the Deity, being surrounded by nothing,
is necessarily itself its own place. And there is an evidence in support
of my view of the matter in the following sacred oracle delivered with
respect to Abraham: “He came unto the place of which the Lord God had told
him: and having looked up with his eyes, he saw the place afar off.” [Genesis
xxii. 4.]
Tell me, now, did he who had come to the place see it afar off? Or perhaps
it is but an identical expression for two different things, one of which
is the divine world, and the other, God, who existed before the world.
But he who was conducted by wisdom comes to the former place, having found
that the main part and end of propitiation is the divine word, in which
he who is fixed does not as yet attain to such a height as to penetrate
to the essence of God, but sees him afar off; or, rather, I should say,
he is not able even to behold him afar off, but he only discerns this fact,
that God is at a distance from every creature, and that any comprehension
of him is removed to a great distance from all human intellect. Perhaps,
however, the historian, by this allegorical form of expression, does not
here mean by his expression, “place,” the Cause of all things; but the
idea which he intends to convey may be something of this sort;- he came
to the place, and looking up with his eyes he saw the very place to which
he had come, which was a very long way from the God who may not be named
nor spoken of, and who is in every way incomprehensible.
XII. These things, then, being defined as a necessary preliminary, when
the practiser of virtue comes to Charran, the outward sense, he does not
“meet” the place, nor that place either which is filled by a mortal body;
for all those who are born of the dust, and who occupy any place whatever,
and who do of necessity fill some position, partake of that; nor the third
and most excellent kind of place, of which it was scarcely possible for
that man to form an idea who made his abode at the well which was entitled
the “well of the oath,” where the self-taught race, Isaac, abides, who
never abandons his faith in God and his invisible comprehension of him,
but who keeps to the intermediate divine word, which affords him the best
suggestions, and teaches him everything which is suitable to the times.
For God, not condescending to come down to the external senses, sends his
own words or angels for the sake of giving assistance to those who love
virtue. But they attend like physicians to the diseases of the soul, and
apply themselves to heal them, offering sacred recommendations like sacred
laws, and inviting men to practise the duties inculcated by them, and,
like the trainers of wrestlers, implanting in their pupils strength, and
power, and irresistible vigor. Very properly, therefore, when he has arrived
at the external sense, he is represented no longer as meeting God, but
only the divine word, just as his grandfather Abraham, the model of wisdom,
did; for the scripture tells us, “The Lord departed when he had finished
conversing with Abraham, and Abraham returned to his place.” [Genesis xviii.
33.]
From which expression it is inferred, that he also met with the sacred
words from which God, the father of the universe, had previously departed,
no longer displaying visions from himself but only those which proceed
from his subordinate powers. And it is with exceeding beauty and propriety
that it is said, not that he came to the place, but that he met the place:
for to come is voluntary, but to meet is very often involuntary; so that
the divine Word appearing on a sudden, supplies an unexpected joy, greater
than could have been hoped, inasmuch as it is about to travel in company
with the solitary soul; for Moses also “brings forward the people to a
meeting with God,” [Exodus xix. 17] well knowing that he comes invisibly
towards those souls who have a longing to meet with him.
XIII. And he subsequently alleges a reason why he “met the place;” for, says he, “the sun was set.” [Genesis xxviii. 11.] Not meaning the sun which appears to us, but the most brilliant and radiant light of the invisible and Almighty God. When this light shines upon the mind, the inferior beams of words (that is of angels) set. And much more are all the places perceptible by the external senses overshadowed; but when he departs in a different direction, then they all rise and shine. And do not wonder if, according to the rules of allegorical description, the sun is likened to the Father and Governor of the universe; for in reality nothing is like unto God: but those things which by the vain opinion of men are thought to be so, are only two things, one invisible and the other visible; the soul being the invisible thing, and the sun the visible one.
Now he has shown the similitude of the soul in another passage, where he
says, “God made man, in the image of God created he him.” And again, in
the law enacted against homicides, he says, “Whoso sheddeth man’s blood,
by man shall his blood be shed in requital for that blood, because in the
image of God did I make him.” [Genesis ix. 6.] But the likeness of the
sun he only indicates by symbols. And it is easy otherwise by means of
argument to perceive this, since God is the first light, “For the Lord
is my light and my Savior,” [Psalm xxvi. 1] is the language of the Psalms;
and not only the light, but he is also the archetypal pattern of every
other light, or rather he is more ancient and more sublime than even the
archetypal model, though he is spoken of as the model; for the real model
was his own most perfect word, the light, and he himself is like to no
created thing. Since, as the sun divides day and night, so also does Moses
say that God divided the light from the darkness; for “God made a division
between the light and between the darkness.” [Genesis i. 4.]
And besides all this, as the sun, when he arises, discovers hidden things, so also does God, who created all things, not only bring them all to light, but he has even created what before had no existence, not being only their maker, but also their founder.
XIV. And the sun is also spoken of in many passages of holy writ in a figurative
manner. Once as the human mind, which men build up as a city [Genesis xi.
4] and furnish, who are compelled to serve the creature in preference to
the uncreated God, of whom it is said that, “They built strong cities for
Pharaoh and Peitho,” [Exodus i. 11.] that is, for discourse; to which persuasion
('to peithein') is attributed, and Rameses, or the outward sense, by which the soul
is devoured as if by moths; for the name Rameses, being interpreted, means,
“the shaking of a moth;” and On, the mind, which they called Heliopolis,
since the mind, like the sun, has the predominance over the whole mass
of our body, and extends its powers like the beams of the sun, over everything.
But he who appropriates to himself the regulation of corporeal things,
by name Joseph, takes the priest and minister of the mind to be his father-in
law; for says the scripture, “he gave him Aseneth, the daughter of Peutephres,
the priest of Heliopolis, for his wife.” [Genesis xli. 45.] And, using
symbolical language, he calls the outward sense a second sun, inasmuch
as it shows all the objects of which it is able to form a judgment to the
intellect, concerning which he speaks thus, “The sun rose upon him when
he passed by the appearance of God.” [Genesis xxxii. 31.] For in real truth,
when we are no longer able to endure to pass all our time with the most
sacred appearances, and as it were with incorporeal images, but when we
turn aside in another direction, and forsake them, we use another light,
that, namely, in accordance with the external sense, which in real truth,
is in no respect different from darkness, which, after it has arisen, arouses
as if from sleep the senses of seeing, and of hearing, and also of taste,
and of touch, and of smell, and sends to sleep the intellectual qualities
of prudence, and justice, and knowledge, and wisdom, which were all awake.
And it is for this reason that the sacred scripture says, that no one can be pure before the evening, [Leviticus iv. 31] as the disorderly motions of the outward senses agitate and confuse the intellect. Moreover, he establishes a law for the priests also which may not be avoided, combining with it an expression of a grave opinion when it says, “He shall not eat of the holy things unless he have washed his body in water, and unless the sun has set, and he has become pure.” [Leviticus xxii. 6.] For by these words it is very clearly shown that there is no one whatever completely pure, so as to be fit to be initiated into the holy and sacred mysteries, to whose lot it has fallen to be honored with these glories of life which are appreciable by the external senses. But if any one rejects these glories, he is deservedly made conspicuous by the light of wisdom, by means of which he will be able to wash off the stains of vain opinion and to become pure.
Do you not see that even the sun itself produces opposite effects when
he is setting from those which he causes when rising? For when he rises
everything upon the earth shines, and the things in heaven are hidden from
our view; but, on the other hand, when he sets then the stars appear and
the things on earth are overshadowed. In the same manner, also, in us,
when the light of the outward senses rises like the sun, the celestial
and heavenly sciences are really and truly hidden from view; but when this
light is near setting, then the starlike radiance of the virtues appears,
when the mind is pure, and concealed by no object of the outward senses.
XV. But according to the third signification, when he speaks of the sun,
he means the divine word, the model of that sun which moves about through
the heaven, as has been said before, and with respect to which it is said,
“The sun went forth upon the earth, and Lot entered into Segor, and the
Lord rained upon Sodom and Gomorrah brimstone and fire.” [Genesis xix.
23.] For the word of God, when it reaches to our earthly constitution,
assists and protects those who are akin to virtue, or whose inclinations
lead them to virtue; so that it provides them with a complete refuge and
salvation, but upon their enemies it sends irremediable overthrow and destruction.
And in the fourth signification, what is meant by the sun is the God and
ruler of the universe himself, as I have said already, by means of whom
such offenses as are irremediable, and which appear to be overshadowed
and concealed, are revealed; for as all things are possible, so, likewise,
all things are known to God.
In reference to which faculty of his it is that he drags those persons
who are living dissolutely as regards their souls, and who are in a debauched
and intemperate manner, cohabiting with the daughters of the mind the outward
senses, as prostitutes and harlots, to the light of the sun, in order to
display their true characters; for the scripture says, “And the people
abode in Shittim;” now the meaning of the name Shittim is, “the thorns
of the passions” which sting and wound the soul. “And the people was polluted,
and began to commit whoredom with the daughters of Moab,” [Numbers xxv.
1] and these who are called daughters are the outward senses, for the name
Moab is interpreted, “of a father;” and the scripture adds, “Take all the
chiefs of the people, and make an example of them unto the Lord in the
face of the sun, and the anger of the Lord shall be turned from Israel.”
[Numbers xxv. 4.] For he not only desires that the wicked deeds which are
hidden shall be made manifest, and therefore turns upon them the beams
of the sun, but he also by this symbolical language calls the father of
the universe the sun, that being by whom all things are seen beforehand,
and even all those things which are invisibly concealed in the recesses
of the mind; and when they are made manifest, then he promises that he
who is the only merciful being, will become merciful to the people. Why
so? Because, even if the mind, fancying that though it does wrong it can
escape the notice of the Deity as not being able to see everything, should
sin secretly and in dark places, and should after that, either by reason
of its own notions or through the suggestions of some one else, conceive
that it is impossible that anything should be otherwise than clear to God,
and should disclose itself and all its actions, and should bring them forward,
as it were, out of the light of the sun, and display them to the governor
of the universe, saying, that it repents of the perverse conduct which
it formerly exhibited when under the influence of foolish opinion (for
that nothing is indistinct before God, but all things are known and clear
to him, not merely such as have been done, but even such are merely hoped
or designed, by reason of the boundless character of his wisdom), it then
is purified and benefited, and it propitiates the chastiser who was ready
to punish it, namely, conscience, who was previously filled with just anger
towards it, and who now admits repentance as the younger brother of perfect
innocence and freedom from sin.
XVI. Moreover, it appears that Moses has in other passages also taken the sun as a symbol of the great Cause of all things, of which I see an instance in the law which is enacted with respect to those who borrow on pledges: let us recite the law, “If thou takest as a pledge the garment of thy neighbor, thou shalt give it back before the setting of the sun: for it is his covering, it is the only covering of his nakedness, in which he lies down. If he cries unto me I will hearken unto him, for I am merciful.” [Exodus xxii. 26.] Is it not natural that those who fancy that the lawgiver displays such earnestness about a garment should, if they do not reproach him, at least make a suggestion, saying, “What are ye saying, my good men? Do ye affirm that the Creator and ruler of the world calls himself merciful with respect to so trivial a matter, as that of a garment not being restored to the borrower by the lender?” These are the opinions and notions of men who have never had the least conception or comprehension of the virtue of the almighty God, and who, contrary to all human and divine law, impart the triviality of human affairs to the uncreate and immortal nature, which is full of happiness, and blessedness, and perfection; for in what respect do those lenders act unreasonably, who retain in their own hands the pledges which are deposited with them as security, until they receive back their own which they have lent? The debtors are poor, some one will perhaps say, and it is right to pity them: would it not then have been reasonable and better to enact a law in accordance with which a contribution should be made to assist their necessities, rather than allow them to appear as debtors, or else one which should forbid the lending on pledges at all?
But the law which has permitted the lending on pledges, cannot fairly be indignant against those who will not give up the pledges which they have received before the proper time, as if they were acting unjustly.
But if any one having come, so to say, to the very farthest limits of poverty,
and, being clothed in rags, loads himself with new debts, neglecting the
pity which he receives from the bystanders, which is freely bestowed, upon
those who fall into such misfortunes, in their own houses, and in the temples,
and in the market-place, and everywhere; such an one brings and offers
to his creditor, the only covering which he had for his shame, with which
he has been wont to cover the secret parts of his nature, as a pledge for
something. For what, I pray? Is it for some other and better garment? For
no one is unprovided with necessary food as long as the springs of the
rivers bubble up, and the torrents flow abundantly, and the earth gives
forth its annual fruits.
Again, is any creditor so covetous of riches, or so very cruel, or so perverse,
as not to be willing to contribute a tetradrachm, or even less, to one
in distress? Or is anyone so stingy as to be willing to lend it, but to
refuse to give it? or as to take the only garment that the poor man has
as a pledge? which indeed under another name may fairly be called running
away with a man’s clothes; for men who do this are accustomed to put on
other peoples’ clothes, and steal them, and to leave the proper owners
naked.
And why has the law provided so carefully that the debtor may not be without his clothes by night, and that he may not lie down to sleep without them, but has not paid the same attention to the fact of his being indecorously naked by day? Are not all things concealed by night and darkness, so as to cause less shame, or rather none at all at that time, but are they not disclosed by day and by light, so as then to compel persons to blush more freely? And why does the law not use the expression “to give,” but “to restore?” For restoration takes place with respect to the property of other persons, but pledges belong rather to those who have lent on them than to those who have borrowed on them. Moreover, do you not perceive that the law has not enjoined the debtor, who has received back his garment that it may serve as bed-clothes, to bring it back again to his creditor at the return of daylight? And, indeed, if the exact propriety of the language be considered, even the most stupid person may see that there is something additional meant beyond what is formally expressed. For the injunction rather resembles a maxim than a recommendation. For, if a person had been giving a recommendation, he would have said: “Give back to your debtor, at the approach of evening, the garment which has been pledged to you, if it be the only garment that he is possessed of, that he may have something with which to cover himself at night.” But one who was laying down a maxim would speak thus; as indeed the law does here, “For it is his garment, the only covering of his nakedness, in which he will lie down to sleep.”
XVII. These things then, and other things of the same kind, may be urged
in reply to those assertors of the literal sense of a passage; and who
superciliously reject all other explanations. We will now, in accordance
with the usual law of allegorical speaking, say what is becoming with respect
to these subjects.
We say, therefore, that a garment is here spoken of symbolically, to signify
speech; for clothes keep off the injuries which are wont to visit the body,
from cold and heat, and they also conceal the unmentionable parts of nature,
and moreover, a cloak is a fitting garment for the body. In much the same
manner, speech has been given to man by God, as the most excellent of gifts;
for in the first place, it is a defensive weapon against those who would
attack him with innovations. For as nature has fortified all other animals
with their own appropriate and peculiar means of defense, by which they
are able to repel those who attempt to injure them, so also has it bestowed
upon man that greatest defense and most impregnable protection of speech,
with which, as with a panoply, every one who is completely clothed, will
have a domestic and most appropriate bodyguard; and employing it as a champion,
will be able to ward off all the injuries which can be brought against
him by his enemies.
In the second place, it is a most necessary defense against shame and reproach; for speech is very well calculated to conceal and obscure the faults of men.
In the third place, it conduces to the whole ornament of life: for this is the thing which improves every one, and which conducts every one to what is best; for there are many disgraceful and mischievous men, who take conversation as a pledge, and deprive its proper owners of it, and utterly cut off what they ought to seek to increase; like men who ravage the lands of their enemies, and who attempt to destroy their corn and all the rest of their crops, which, if it were left unhurt, would be a great advantage to those who would use it.
For some men carry on an irreconcilable and never-ending war against rational
nature, and utterly extirpate its every shoot and beginning, and destroy
all its first appearances of propagation, and render it, as one may say,
utterly unproductive and barren of all good practices. For sometimes, when
it is borne onwards towards sacred instruction with irresistible impetuosity,
and when it is smitten with a love of the speculations of true philosophy,
they - out of jealousy and envy, fearing lest, when it has derived strength
from its noble aspirations and has been elevated to a splendid height,
it may overwhelm all their petty cavils and plausible devices against the
truth, like an irresistible torrent - turn its energy in another direction
by their own evil artifices, guiding it in another channel to vulgar and
illiberal acts: and very often they seek to blunt it or to hedge it in,
and in this way leave the nobility of its nature uncultivated, just as
at times wicked guardians of orphan children have rendered a deep-soiled
and fertile land barren.
And these most pitiless of all men have not been restrained by shame from
stripping the man of his only garment, namely, speech; “For,” says the
scripture, “it is his only covering.”- What is a man’s only covering, except
speech? For, as neighing is the peculiar attribute of a horse, and barking
of a dog, and lowing of an ox, and roaring of a lion, so also is speaking,
and speech itself, the peculiar property of man: for this is what man has
received above all other animals as his peculiar gift, as a protection,
and bulwark, and panoply, and wall of defense; he being, of all living
creatures, the most beloved by God.
XVIII. On which account the scripture adds, “This is the only covering
of his nakedness;” for what can so becomingly overshadow and conceal the
reproaches and disgraces of life, as speech? For ignorance is a disgrace
akin to irrational nature, but education is the brother of speech, and
an ornament properly belonging to man. In what then will a man lie down
to rest? That is to say, in what will a man find tranquillity and a respite
from his labors, except in speech? For speech is a relief to our most miserable
and afflicted race? As therefore, when men have been overwhelmed by grief,
or by fear, or by any other evil, tranquillity, and constancy, and the
kindness of friends have often restored them; so it happens, not often,
but invariably, that speech, the only real averter of evil, wards off that
most heavy burden which the necessities of that body in the which we are
bound up, and the unforeseen accidents of external circumstances which
attack us, impose upon us; for speech is a friend, and an acquaintance,
and a kinsman, and a companion bound up within us; I should rather say,
fitted close and united to us by some indissoluble and invisible cement
of nature.
On this account it is, that it forewarns us of what will be expedient for
us, and when any unexpected event befalls us it comes forward of its own
accord to assist us; not only bringing advantage of one kind only, such
as that which he who is an adviser without acting, or an agent who can
give no advice, may supply, but of both kinds: for he does not display
a halfcomplete power, but one which is perfect in every part. Inasmuch,
as even if it were to fail in his endeavor, and in any conceptions which
may have been formed, or efforts which may have been made, it still can
have recourse to the third species of assistance, namely, consolation.
For speech is, as it were, a medicine for the wounds of the soul, and a
saving remedy for its passions, which, “even before the setting of the
sun,” the lawgiver says one must restore: that is to say, before the all-brilliant
beams of the almighty and all-glorious God are obscured, which he, out
of pity for our race, sends down from heaven upon the human mind. For while
that most God-like light abides in the soul, we shall be able to give back
the speech, which was deposited as a pledge, as if it were a garment, in
order that he who has received this peculiar possession of man, may by
its means conceal the discreditable circumstances of life, and reap the
benefit of the divine gift, and indulge in a respite combined with tranquillity,
in consequence of the presence of so useful an adviser and defender, who
will never leave the ranks in which he has been stationed.
Moreover, white God pours upon you the light of his beams, do you hasten
in the light of day to restore his pledge to the Lord; for when the sun
has set, then you, like the whole land of Egypt, [Exodus x. 21] will have
an everlasting darkness which may be felt, and being stricken with blindness
and ignorance, you will be deprived of all those things of which you thought
that you had certain possession, by that sharp-sighted Israel, whose pledges
you hold, having made one who was by nature exempt from slavery a slave
to necessity.
XIX. We have discussed this subject at this length with no other object except that of teaching that the mind, which is inclined to practise virtue, having irregular motions towards prolificness and sterility, and as one may say, being in a manner always ascending and descending, when it becomes prolific and is elevated to a height is illuminated with the archetypal and incorporeal beams of the rational spring of the all-perfecting sun; but when it descends and becomes unproductive, then it is again illuminated by those images of those beams, the immortal words which it is customary to call angels. On which account we now read in the scripture, “He met the place; for the sun was set.” [Genesis xxviii.]
For when those beams of God desert the soul by means of which the clearest
comprehensions of affairs are engendered in it, then arises that second
and weaker light of words, and the light of things is no longer seen, just
as is the case in this lower world. For the moon, which occupies the second
rank next to the sun, when that body has set, pours forth a somewhat weaker
light than his upon the earth; and to meet a place or a word is a most
sufficient gift for those who cannot discern that God is superior to every
place or word; because they have not a soul wholly destitute of light,
but because, since that most unmixed and brilliant light has set, they
have been favored with one which is alloyed.
“For the children of Israel had light in all their dwellings,” [Exodus
x. 23] says the sacred historian in the book of the Exodus, so that night
and darkness were continually banished from them, though it is in night
and darkness that those men live who have lost the eyes of the soul rather
than those of the body, having no experience of the beams of virtue. But
some persons - supposing that what is meant here by the figurative expression
of the sun is the external sense and the mind, which are looked upon as
the things which have the power of judging; and that what is meant by place
is the divine word - understand the allegory in this manner: the practiser
of virtue met with the divine word, after the mortal and human light had
set; for as long as the mind thinks that it attains to a firm comprehension
of the objects of intellect, and the outward sense conceives that it has
a similar understanding of its appropriate objects, and that it dwells
amid sublime objects, the divine word stands aloof at a distance; but when
each of these comes to confess its own weakness, and sets in a manner while
availing itself of concealment, then immediately the right reason of a
soul well-practised in virtue comes in a welcome manner to their assistance,
when they have begun to despair of their own strength, and await the aid
which is invisibly coming to them from without.
XX. Therefore, the scripture says in the next verses, “That he took one of the stones of the place and placed it at his head, and slept in that place.” [Genesis xxviii. 11.] Any one may wonder not only at the interior and mystical doctrine contained in these words, but also at the distinct assertion, which gives us a lesson in labor and endurance: for the historian does not think it becoming, that the man who is devoted to the study of virtue should adopt a luxurious life, and live softly, imitating the pursuits and rivalries of those who are called indeed happy, but who are in reality full of all unhappiness; whose entire life is a sleep and a dream, according to the holy lawgiver.
These men, after they have during the whole day been doing all sorts of injustice to others, in courts of justice, and council halls, and theatres, and everywhere, then return home, like miserable men as they are, to overturn their own house. I mean not that house which comes under the class of buildings, but that which is akin to the soul, I mean the body. Introducing immoderate and incessant food, and irrigating it with an abundance of pure wine, until the reason is overwhelmed, and disappears; and the passions which have their seat beneath the belly, the offspring of satiety, rise up, being carried away by unrestrained frenzy, and falling upon, and vehemently attacking all that they meet with, are only at last appeased after they have worked off their excessive violence of excitement.
But by night, when it is time to turn towards rest, having prepared costly
couches and the most exquisite of beds, they lie down in the most exceeding
softness, imitating the luxury of women, whom nature has permitted to indulge
in a more relaxed system of life, inasmuch as their maker, the Creator
of the universe, has made their bodies of a more delicate stamp. Now no
such person as this is a pupil of the sacred word, but those only are the
disciples of that who are real genuine men, lovers of temperance, and orderliness,
and modesty, men who have laid down continence, and frugality, and fortitude,
as a kind of base and foundation for the whole of life; and safe stations
for the soul, in which it may anchor without danger and without changeableness:
for being superior to money, and pleasure, and glory, they look down upon
meats and drinks, and everything of that sort, beyond what is necessary
to ward off hunger: being thoroughly ready to undergo hunger, and thirst,
and heat, and cold, and all other things, however hard they may be to be
borne, for the sake of the acquisition of virtue. And being admirers of
whatever is most easily provided, so as not to be ashamed of ever such
cheap or shabby clothes, thinking rather, on the other hand, that sumptuous
apparel is a reproach and great scandal to life.
To these men, the soft earth is their most costly couch; their bed is bushes, and grass, and herbage, and a thick layer of leaves; and the pillows for their head are a few stones, or any little mounds which happen to rise a little above the surface of the plain.
Such a life as this, is, by luxurious men, denominated a life of hardship,
but by those who live for virtue, it is called most delightful; for it
is well adapted, not for those who are called men, but for those who really
are such. Do you not see, that even now, also, the sacred historian represents
the practiser of honorable pursuits, who abounds in all royal materials
and appointments, as sleeping on the ground, and using a stone for his
pillow; and a little further on, he speaks of him as asking in his prayers
for bread and a cloak, the necessary wealth of nature? like one who has
at all times held in contempt, the man who dwells among vain opinions,
and who is inclined to revile all those who are disposed to admire him;
this man is the archetypal pattern of the soul which is devoted to the
practice of virtue, and an enemy of every effeminate person.
XXI. Hitherto I have been uttering the praises of the man devoted to labor
and to virtue, as it occurred to me naturally; but now we must examine
what is symbolically signified under the expressions made use of.
Now it is well that we should know, that the divine place and the sacred
region are full of incorporeal intelligences; and these intelligences are
immortal souls. Taking then one of these intelligences, and selecting one
of them according as it appears to be the most excellent, this lover of
virtue, of whom we are speaking, applies it to our own mind, to it as to
the head of a united body; for, indeed, the mind is in a manner the head
of the soul; and he does this, using the pretext indeed as if he were going
to sleep, but, in reality, as being about to rest upon the word of God,
and to place the whole of his life as the lightest possible burden upon
it; and it listens to him gladly, and receives the laborer in the paths
of virtue at first, as if he were going to become a disciple; then when
he has shown his approbation of the dexterity of his nature, he gives him
his hand, like a gymnastic trainer, and invites him to the gymnasia, and
standing firmly, compels him to wrestle with him, until he has rendered
his strength so great as to be irresistible, changing his ears by the divine
influences into eyes, and calling this newly-modelled disposition Israel,
that is, the man who sees.
Then also he crowns him with the garland of victory. But this garland has a singular and foreign, and, perhaps, not altogether a well-omened name, for it is called by the president of the games torpor, for it is said, that the breadth became torpid [Genesis xxxii. 25] of all the rewards and of the proclamations of the heralds, and of all those most wonderful prizes for pre-eminent excellence which are had in honor; for the soul which has received a share of irresistible power, and which has been made perfect in the contests of virtue, and which has arrived at the very furthest limit of what is honorable, will never be unduly elated or puffed up by arrogance, nor stand upon tiptoes, and boast as if it were well to make vast strides with bare feet; but the breadth which was extended wide by opinion, will become torpid and contracted, and then will voluntarily succumb and yield to tameness, so as being classed in an inferior order to that of the incorporeal natures, it may carry off the victory while appearing to be defeated; for it is accounted a most honorable thing to yield the palm to those who are superior to one’s self, voluntarily rather than through compulsion; for it is incredible how greatly the second prize in this contest is superior in real dignity and importance to the first prize in the others.
XXII. Such then may be said, by way of preface, to the discussion of that description of visions which are sent from God. But it is time now to turn to the subject itself, and to investigate, with accuracy, every portion of it.
The scripture therefore says, “And he dreamed a dream. And behold a ladder
was planted firmly on the ground, the head of which reached to heaven,
and the angels of God were ascending and descending along it.” [Genesis
xxviii. 12.] By the ladder in this thing, which is called the world, is
figuratively understood the air; the foundation of which is the earth;
and the head is the heaven; for the large interior space, which being extended
in every direction, reaches from the orb of the moon, which is described
as the most remote of the order in heaven, but the nearest to us by those
who contemplate sublime objects, down to the earth, which is the lowest
of such bodies, is the air. This air is the abode of incorporeal souls,
since it seemed good to the Creator of the universe to fill all the parts
of the world with living creatures. On this account he prepared the terrestrial
animals for the earth, the aquatic animals for the sea and for the rivers,
and the stars for the heaven; for every one of these bodies is not merely
a living animal, but is also properly described as the very purest and
most universal mind extending through the universe; so that there are living
creatures in that other section of the universe, the air.
And if these things are not comprehensible by the outward senses, what of that? For the soul also is invisible. And yet it is probable that the air should nourish living animals even more than the land or the water. Why so? Because it is the air which has given vitality to those animals which live on the earth and in the water. For the Creator of the universe formed the air so that it should be the habit of those bodies which are immoveable, and the nature of those which are moved in an invisible manner, and the soul of such as are able to exert an impetus and visible sense of their own. Is it not then absurd that that element, by means of which the other elements have been filled with vitality, should itself be destitute of living things? Therefore let no one deprive the most excellent nature of living creatures of the most excellent of those elements which surround the earth; that is to say, of the air. For not only is it not alone deserted by all things besides, but rather, like a populous city, it is full of imperishable and immortal citizens, souls equal in number to the stars.
Now of these souls some descend upon the earth with a view to being bound
up in mortal bodies, those namely which are most nearly connected with
the earth, and which are lovers of the body. But some soar upwards, being
again distinguished according to the definitions and times which have been
appointed by nature. Of these, those which are influenced by a desire for
mortal life, and which have been familiarised to it, again return to it.
But others, condemning the body of great folly and trifling, have pronounced
it a prison and a grave, and, flying from it as from a house of correction
or a tomb, have raised themselves aloft on light wings towards the aether,
and have devoted their whole lives to sublime speculations.
There are others, again, the purest and most excellent of all, which have received greater and more divine intellects, never by any chance desiring any earthly thing whatever, but being as it were lieutenants of the Ruler of the universe, as though they were the eyes and ears of the great king, beholding and listening to everything. Now philosophers in general are wont to call these demons, but the sacred scripture calls them angels, using a name more in accordance with nature. For indeed they do report ('diangelliusi') the injunctions of the father to his children, and the necessities of
the children to the father.
And it is in reference to this employment of theirs that the holy scripture
has represented them as ascending and descending, not because God, who
knows everything before any other being, has any need of interpreters;
but because it is the lot of us miserable mortals to use speech as a mediator
and intercessor; because of our standing in awe of and fearing the Ruler
of the universe, and the all-powerful might of his authority; having received
a notion of which he once entreated one of those mediators, saying: “Do
thou speak for us, and let not God speak to us, lest we die.” [Exodus xx.
19.] For not only are we unable to endure his chastisements, but we cannot
bear even his excessive and unmodified benefits, which he himself proffers
us of his own accord, without employing the ministrations of any other
beings.
Very admirably therefore does Moses represent the air under the figurative symbol of a ladder, as planted solidly in the earth and reaching up to heaven. For it comes to pass that the evaporations which are given forth by the earth becoming rarefied, are dissolved into air, so that the earth is the foundation and root of the air, and that the heaven is its head. Accordingly it is said that the moon is not an unadulterated consolidation of pure aether, as each of the other stars is, but is rather a combination of the aether-like and air-like essence. For that black spot which appears in it, which some call a face, is nothing else but the air mingled with it, which is by nature black, and which extends as far as heaven.
XXIII. The ladder therefore in the world which is here spoken of in this
symbolical manner, was something of this sort. But if we carefully investigate
the soul which exists in men, the foundation of which is something corporeal,
and as it were earth-like, we shall find that foundation to be the outward
sense; and the head to be something heavenly, as it were the most pure
mind. But all the words of God move incessantly upwards and downwards through
the whole of it, dragging it upwards along with them whenever they soar
aloft, and separating it from whatever is mortal, and exhibiting to it
a sight of those things which alone are worthy of being beheld; but yet
not casting it down when they descend. For neither is God himself, nor
the word of God, worthy of blame. But they join with them in their descent,
by reason of their love for mankind and compassion for our race, for the
sake of being their allies and rendering them assistance, in order that
by breathing in a saving inspiration they may recall to life the soul which
was still being tossed about in the body as in the river.
Now the God and governor of the universe does by himself and alone walk
about invisibly and noiselessly in the minds of those who are purified
in the highest degree. For there is extant a prophecy which was delivered
to the wise man, in which it is said: “I will walk among you, and I will
be your God.” [Leviticus xxvi. 12.] But the angels — the words of God —
move about in the minds of those persons who are still in a process of
being washed, but who have not yet completely washed off the life which
defiles them, and which is polluted by the contact of their heavy bodies,
making them look pure and brilliant to the eyes of virtue.
But it is plain enough what vast numbers of evils are driven out, and what a multitude of wicked inhabitants is expelled in order that one good man may be introduced to dwell there. Do thou, therefore, O my soul, hasten to become the abode of God, his holy temple, to become strong from having been most weak, powerful from having been powerless, wise from having been foolish, and very reasonable from having been doting and childless.
And perhaps too the practiser of virtue represents his own life as like to a ladder; for the practice of anything is naturally an anomalous thing, since at one time it soars up to a height, and at another it turns downwards in a contrary direction; and at one time has a fair voyage like a ship, and at another has but an unfavorable passage; for, as some one says, the life of those who practise virtue is full of vicissitudes: being at one time alive and waking, and at another dead or sleeping. And perhaps this is no incorrect statement; for the wise have obtained the heavenly and celestial country as their habitation; having learnt to be continually mounting upwards, but the wicked have received as their share the dark recesses of hell, having from the beginning to the end of their existence practised dying, and having been from their infancy to their old age familiarised with destruction.
But the practisers of virtue, for they are on the boundary between two extremities, are frequently going upwards and downwards as if on a ladder, being either drawn upwards by a more powerful fate, or else being dragged down by that which is worse; until the umpire of this contention and conflict, namely God, adjudges the victory to the more excellent class and utterly destroys the other.
XXIV. There is also in this dream another sort of similitude or comparison
apparent, which must not be passed over in silence; the affairs of mankind
are naturally compared to a ladder, on account of their irregular motion
and progress: for as some one or other has said; “One day has cast one
man down from on high and destroyed him, and another it has raised up,
nothing that belongs to our human race being formed by nature so as to
remain long in the same condition, but all such things changing with all
kinds of alteration. Do not men become rulers from having been private
individuals, and private individuals from having been rulers, poor from
having been rich, and very rich from having been poor; glorious from been
despised, and most illustrious from having been infamous?” [...]
A very beautiful way of life: for it is very possible that the being whose
habitation is the whole world, may dwell with you also, and take care of
your house, so that it may be completely protected and free from injury
for ever; and there is such a way as this in which human affairs move upwards
and downwards, meeting with an unstable and variable fortune, the anomalous
character of which, unerring time proves by evidence which is not indistinct
but manifest and legible.
XXV. But the dream also represented the archangel, namely the Lord himself,
firmly planted on the ladder; for we must imagine that the living God stands
above all things, like the charioteer of a chariot, or the pilot of a ship;
that is, above bodies, and above souls, and above all creatures, and above
the earth, and above the air, and above the heaven, and above all the powers
of the outward senses, and above the invisible natures, in short, above
all things whether visible or invisible; for having made the whole to depend
upon himself, he governs it and all the vastness of nature.
But let no one who hears that he was firmly planted thus suppose that any thing at all assists God, so as to enable him to stand firmly, but let him rather consider this fact that what is here indicated is equivalent to the assertion that the firmest position, and the bulwark, and the strength, and the steadiness of everything is the immoveable God, who stamps the character of immobility on whatever he pleases; for, in consequence of his supporting and consolidating things, those which he does combine remain firm and indestructible.
Therefore he who stands upon the ladder of heaven says to him who is beholding
the dream, “I am the Lord God of Abraham thy father, and the God of Isaac;
be not afraid.” [Genesis xxviii. 13.] This oracle and this vision were
also the firmest support of the soul devoted to the practice of virtue,
inasmuch as it taught it that the Lord and God of the universe is both
these things also to his own race, being entitled both the Lord and God
of all men, and of his grandfathers and ancestors, and being called by
both names in order that the whole world and the man devoted to virtue
might have the same inheritance; since it is also said, “The Lord himself
is his inheritance.” [Deuteronomy x. 9.]
XXVI. But do not fancy that it is an accidental thing here for him to be
called in this place the God and Lord of Abraham, but only the God of Isaac;
for this latter is the symbol of the knowledge which exists by nature,
which hears itself, and teaches itself, and learns of itself; but Abraham
is the symbol of that which is derived from the teaching of others; and
the one again is an indigenous and native inhabitant of his country, but
the other is only a settler and a foreigner; for having forsaken the language
of those who indulge in sublime conversations about astronomy, a language
imitating that of the Chaldaeans, foreign and barbarous, he was brought
over to that which was suited to a rational being, namely, to the service
of the great Cause of all things.
Now this disposition stands in need of two powers to take care of it, the
power that is of authority, and that of conferring benefits, in order that
in accordance with the authority of the governor, it may obey the admonitions
which it receives, and also that it may be greatly benefited by his beneficence.
But the other disposition stands in need of the power of beneficence only;
for it has not derived any improvement from the authority which admonishes
it, inasmuch as it naturally claims virtue as its own, but by reason of
the bounty which is showered upon it from above, it was good and perfect
from the beginning; therefore God is the name of the beneficent power,
and Lord is the title of the royal power.
What then can any one call a more ancient and important good, than to be
thought worthy to meet with unmixed and unalloyed beneficence? And what
can be less valuable than to receive a mixture of authority and liberality?
And it appears to me that it was because the practiser of virtue saw that
he uttered that most admirable prayer that, “the Lord might be to him as
God;” [Genesis xxviii. 21] for he desired no longer to stand in awe of
him as a governor, but to honor and love him as a benefactor. Now is it
not fitting that even blind men should become sharp-sighted in their minds
to these and similar things, being endowed with the power of sight by the
most sacred oracles, so as to be able to contemplate the glories of nature,
and not to be limited to the mere understanding of the words? But even
if we voluntarily close the eye of our soul and take no care to understand
such mysteries, or if we are unable to look up to them, the hierophant
himself stands by and prompts us. And do not thou ever cease through weariness
to anoint thy eyes until you have introduced those who are duly initiated
to the secret light of the sacred scriptures, and have displayed to them
the hidden things therein contained, and their reality, which is invisible
to those who are uninitiated.
It is becoming then for you to act thus; but as for ye, O souls, who have
once tasted of divine love, as if you had even awakened from deep sleep,
dissipate the mist that is before you; and hasten forward to that beautiful
spectacle, putting aside slow and hesitating fear, in order to comprehend
all the beautiful sounds and sights which the president of the games has
prepared for your advantage.
XXVII. There are then a countless number of things well worthy of being
displayed and demonstrated; and among them one which was mentioned a little
while ago; for the oracle calls the person who was really his grandfather,
the father of the practiser of virtue, and to him who was really his father,
it has not given any such title; for the scripture says, “I am the Lord
God of Abraham thy father,” [Genesis xxviii. 13] but in reality Abraham
was his grandfather; and then proceeds, “And the God of Isaac,” and in
this case he does not add, “thy father:” is it not then worth while to
examine into the cause of this difference? Undoubtedly it is; let us then
in a careful manner apply ourselves to the consideration of the cause.
Philosophers say that virtue exists among men, either by nature, or by
practice, or by learning. On which account the sacred scriptures represent
the three founders of the nation of the Israelites as wise men; not indeed
originally endowed with the same kind of wisdom, but arriving rapidly at
the same end. For the eldest of them, Abraham, had instruction for his
guide in the road which conducted him to virtue; as we shall show in another
treatise to the best of our power. And Isaac, who is the middle one of
the three, had a self-taught and self-instructed nature. And Jacob, the
third, arrived at this point by industry and practice, in accordance with
which were his labors of wrestling and contention.
Since then there are thus three different manners by which wisdom exists
among men, it happens that the two extremes are the most nearly and frequently
united. For the virtue which is acquired by practice, is the offspring
of that which is derived from learning. But that which is implanted by
nature is indeed akin to the others, for it is set below them, as the root
for them all. But it has obtained its prize without any rivalry or difficulty.
So that it is thus very natural for Abraham, as one who had been improved
by instruction, to be called the father of Jacob, who arrived at his height
of virtue by practice. By which expression is indicated not so much the
relationship of one man to the other, but that the power which is fond
of hearing is very ready for learning; the power which is devoted to practice
being also well suited for wrestling. If, however, this practiser of virtue
runs on vigorously towards the end and learns to see clearly what he previously
only dreamed of in an indistinct way, being altered and re-stamped with
a better character, and being called Israel, that is, “the man who sees
God,” instead of Jacob, that is, “the supplanter,” he then is no longer
set down as the son of Abraham, as his father, of him who derived wisdom
from instruction, but as the son of Israel, who was born excellent by nature.
These statements are not fables of my own invention, but are the oracle
written on the sacred pillars. For, says the scripture: “Israel having
departed, he and all that he had came to the well of the oath, and there
he sacrificed a sacrifice to the God of his father Isaac.” [Genesis xlvi.
1.] Do you not now perceive that this present assertion has reference not
to the relationship between mortal men, but, as was said before, to the
nature of things? For look at what is before us. At one time, Jacob is
spoken of as the son of his father Abraham, and at another time he is called
Israel, the son of Isaac, on account of the reason which we have thus accurately
investigated.
XXVIII. Having then said: “I am the Lord God of Abraham, the father and the God of Isaac,” he adds: “Be not afraid,” very consistently. For how can we any longer be afraid when we have thee, O God, as our armor and defender? Thee, the deliverer from fear and from every painful feeling? Thee, who hast also fashioned the archetypal forms of our instruction while they were still indistinct, so as to make them visible, teaching Abraham wisdom, and begetting Isaac, who was wise from his birth. For you condescended to be called the guide of the one and the father of the other, assigning to the one the rank of a pupil, and to the other that of a son.
For this reason, too, God promised that he would give him the land. I mean by the land here, all-prolific virtue, on which the practiser rests from his contests and sleeps, from the fact of the life according to the outward sense being lulled asleep, and that of the soul being awakened. Receiving gladly peaceful repose there, which he did not obtain without war, and the afflictions which arise from war, not by means of bearing arms and slaying men; away with any such notion! but by overthrowing the array of vices and passions which are the adversaries of virtue.
But the race of wisdom is likened to the sand of the sea, by reason of
its boundless numbers, and because also the sand, like a fringe, checks
the incursions of the sea; as the reasonings of instruction beat back the
violence of wickedness and iniquity. And these reasonings, in accordance
with the divine promises, are extended to the very extremities of the universe.
And they show that he who is possessed of them is the inheritor of all
the parts of the world, penetrating everywhere, to the east, and to the
west, to the south, and to the north. For it is said in the scripture:
“He shall be extended towards the sea, and towards the south, and towards
the north, and towards the east.” [Genesis xxviii. 14.] But the wise and
virtuous man is not only a blessing to himself, but he is also a common
good to all men, diffusing advantages over all from his own ready store.
For as the sun is the light of all those beings who have eyes, so also
is the wise man light to all those who partake of a rational nature.
XXIX. “For in thee shall all the nations of the earth be blessed.” And
this oracle applies to the wise man in respect of himself, and also in
respect of others. For if the mind which is in me is purified by perfect
virtue, and if the tribes of that earthly part which is about me are purified
at the same time, which tribes have fallen to the lot of the external senses,
and of the greatest channel of all, namely the body; and if any one, either
in his house, or in his city, or in his country, or in his nation, becomes
a lover of wisdom, it is inevitable that that house, and that city, and
that country, and that nation, must attain to a better life. For, as those
spices which are set on fire fill all persons near them with their fragrance,
so in the same manner do all those persons who are neighbors of and contiguous
to the wise man catch some of the exhalations which reach to a distance
from him, and so become improved in their characters.
XXX. And it is the greatest of all advantages to a soul engaged in labors
and contests, to have for its fellow traveller God, who penetrates everywhere.
“For behold,” says God, “I am with thee.” [Genesis xxviii. 15.] Of what
then can we be in need while we have for our wealth Thee, who art the only
true and real riches, who keepest us in the road which leads to virtue
in all its different divisions? For it is not one portion only of the rational
life which conducts to justice and to all other virtue, but the parts are
infinite in number, from which those who desire to arrive at virtue can
set out.
XXXI. Very admirably therefore is it said in the scripture: “I will lead
thee back to this land.” For it was fitting that the reason should remain
with itself, and should not depart to the outward sense. And if it has
departed, then the next best thing is for it to return back again. And
perhaps also a doctrine bearing on the immortality of the soul is figuratively
intimated by this expression. For the soul, having left the region of heaven,
as was mentioned a little while before, came to the body as to a foreign
country. Therefore the father who begot it promises that he will not permit
it to be for ever held in bondage, but that he will have compassion on
it, and will unloose its chains, and will conduct it in safety and freedom
as far as the metropolis, and will not cease to assist it till the promises
which he has made in words are confirmed by the truth of actions. For it
is by all means the peculiar attribute of God to foretell what is to happen.
And why do we say this? for his words do not differ from his actions; therefore
the soul which is devoted to the practice of virtue, being set in motion,
and roused up to the investigations relating to the living God, at first
suspected that the living God existed in place; but after a short space
it became perplexed by the difficulty of the question, and began to change
its opinion. “For,” says the scripture, “Jacob awoke and said, Surely the
Lord is in this place, and I knew it not;” and it would have been better,
I should have said, not to know it, than to fancy that God existed in any
place, he who himself contains all things in a circle.
XXXII. Very naturally, therefore, was Jacob afraid, and said in a spirit
of admiration, “how dreadful is this place.” [Genesis xxviii. 16.] For,
in truth, of all the topics or places in natural philosophy, the most formidable
is that in which it is inquired where the living God is, and whether in
short he is in any place at all. Since some persons affirm that everything
which exists occupies some place or other, and others assign each thing
a different place, either in the world or out of the world, in some space
between the different bodies of the universe. Others again affirm that
the uncreated God resembles no created being whatever, but that he is superior
to everything, so that the very swiftest conception is outstripped by him,
and confesses that it is very far inferior to the comprehension of him;
wherefore it speedily cries out, This is not what I expected, because the
Lord is in the place; for he surrounds everything, but in truth and reason
he is not surrounded by anything.
And this thing which is demonstrated and visible, this world perceptible
by the outward senses, is nothing else but the house of God, the abode
of one of the powers of the true God, in accordance with which he is good;
and he calls this world an abode, and he has also pronounced it with great
truth to be the gate of heaven. Now, what does this mean? We cannot comprehend
the world which consists of various species, in that which is fashioned
in accordance with the divine regulations, appreciable only by the intellect,
in any other manner than by making a migration upwards from this other
world perceptible by the outward senses and visible; for it is not possible
either to perceive any other existing being which is incorporeal, without
deriving our principles of judgment from bodies. For while they are quiet,
their place is perceived, and when they are in motion we judge of their
time; but the points, and the lines, and the superficies, and in short
the boundaries [...] as of a garment wrapped externally around it.
According to analogy, therefore, the knowledge of the world appreciable by the intellect is attained to by means of our knowledge of that which is perceptible by the outward senses, which is as it were a gate to the other. For as men who wish to see cities enter in through the gates, so also they who wish to comprehend the invisible world are conducted in their search by the appearance of the visible one. And the world of that essence which is only open to the intellect without any visible appearance or figure whatever, and which exists only in the archetypal idea which exists in the mind, which is fashioned according to its appearance, will be brought on without any shade; all the walls, and all the gates which could impede its progress being removed, so that it is not looked at through any other medium, but by itself, putting forth a beauty which is susceptible of no change, presenting an indescribable and exquisite spectacle.
XXXIII. But enough of this. There is another dream also which belongs to
the same class, that one I mean about the spotted flock, which the person
who beheld it relates after he had awoke, saying, “The angel of God spake
unto me in a dream, and said, Jacob; and I said, What is it? And he said
unto me, Look up with thine eyes, and see the goats and the rams mounting
on the flocks, and the she-goats, some white, and spotted, and ring-straked,
and speckled: for I have beheld all that Laban does unto thee. I am that
God who was seen by thee in the place of God, where thou anointedst the
pillar, and vowedst a vow unto me. Now therefore, rise up and depart out
of this land, and go into the land of thy birth, and I will be with thee.”
[Genesis xxxi. 11.]
You see here, that the divine word speaks of dreams as sent from God; including
in this statement not those only which appear through the agency of the
chief cause itself, but those also which are seen through the operation
of his interpreters and attendant angels, who are thought by the father
who created them to be worthy of a divine and blessed lot: consider, however,
what comes afterwards. The sacred word enjoins some persons what they ought
to do by positive command, like a king; to others it suggests what will
be for their advantage, as a preceptor does to his pupils; to others again,
it is like a counsellor suggesting the wisest plans; and in this way too,
it is of great advantage to those who do not of themselves know what is
expedient; to others it is like a friend, in a mild and persuasive manner,
bringing forward many secret things which no uninitiated person may lawfully
hear.
For at times it asks some persons, as for instance, Adam, “Where art thou?”
And any one may properly answer to such a question, “No where?” Because
all human affairs never remain long in the same condition, but are moved
about and changed, whether we speak of their soul or their body, or of
their external circumstances; for their minds are unstable, not always
having the same impressions from the same things, but such as are diametrically
contrary to their former ones. The body also is unstable, as all the changes
of the different ages from infancy to old age show; their external circumstances
also are variable, being tossed up and down by the impetus of ever-agitated
fortune.
XXXIV. When, however, he comes into an assembly of friends, he does not
begin to speak before he has first accosted each individual among them,
and addressed him by name, so that they prick up their ears, and are quiet
and attentive, listening to the oracles thus delivered, so as never to
forget them or let them escape their memory: since in another passage of
scripture we read, “Be silent and listen.” [Deuteronomy xxvii. 9.] In this
manner too, Moses is called up to the bush. For, the scripture says, “When
he saw that he was turning aside to see, God called him out of the bush,
and said, Moses, Moses: and he said, What is it, Lord?” [Exodus iii. 4.]
And Abraham also, on the occasion of offering up his beloved and only son
as a burnt-offering, when he was beginning to sacrifice him, and when he
had given proof of his piety, was forbidden to destroy the self-taught
race, Isaac by name, from among men; for at the beginning of his account
of this transaction, Moses says that “God did tempt Abraham, and said unto
him, Abraham, Abraham; and he said, Behold, here am I. And he said unto
him, Take now thy beloved son Isaac, whom thou lovest, and offer him up.”
And when he had brought the victim to the altar, then the angel of the
Lord called him out of heaven, saying, “Abraham, Abraham,” and he answered,
“Behold, here am I. And he said, Lay not thy hand upon the child, and do
nothing to him.” [Genesis xxii. 1.]
Also the practiser of virtue is also called one of this company dear to God, being deservedly accounted worthy of the same honor; for, says the scripture, “The angel of God said to me in my sleep, Jacob: and I answered, and said, What is it?” [Genesis xxxi. 10.] But after he has been called he exerts his attention, endeavoring to arrive at an accurate knowledge of the symbols which are displayed to him; and these symbols are the connection and generation of reasonings, as flocks and herds. For, says the scripture, “Jacob, looking up with his eyes, saw the goats and the rams leaping upon the she-goats and upon the sheep.” Now the he-goat is the leader of the flock of goats, and the ram is the leader of the flock of sheep, and these two animals are symbols of perfect reasonings, one of which purifies and cleanses the soul of sins, and the other nourishes it and renders it full of good actions.
Such then are the leaders of the flocks in us, namely, reasons; and the flocks themselves, resembling the sheep and goats whose names they bear, rush forwards and hasten with zeal and earnestness towards justice.
Therefore, looking up with the eye of his mind, which up to that time had
been closed, he saw the perfect and thoroughly sharpened reasons analogically
resembling the goats and rams, prepared for the diminution of offenses
and the increase of good actions. And he beheld how they leap upon the
sheep and the goats, that is on those souls which are still young and tender,
and in the vigor of youth, and beautiful in the flower of their age; not
pursuing irrational pleasure, but indulging in the invisible sowing of
the doctrines of prudence. For this is a marriage which is blessed in its
children; not uniting bodies, but adapting perfect virtues to well-disposed
souls.
Therefore do all ye right reasons of wisdom leap up, form connections, sow seed, and pass by no soul which you see rich and fertile, and well-disposed, and virgin; but inviting it to association and connection with you, render it perfect and pregnant; for so you will become the parents of all kinds of good things, of a male offspring, white, variegated, ring-straked, and speckled.
XXXV. But we must now examine what power each of these offspring has. Now those which are purely white ('dialeukoi') are the most beautiful and the most conspicuous; the word 'dia' being often prefixed in composition by way of adding force to the word, so that the words 'diadelon' and 'diasemon' are commonly used to signify what is very conspicuous ('delon') and very remarkable ('episemon'); therefore the meaning here is that the first-born offspring of the
soul which has received the sacred seed, is purely white; being like light
in which there is no obscurity, and like the most brilliant radiance: like
the unclouded beam which might proceed from the rays of the sun in fine
weather at mid-day. Again, by the statement that some are variegated, what
is meant is, not that the flocks are marked by such a multiform and various
spottedness as to resemble the unclean leprosy, and which is an emblem
of a life unsteady and tossed about in any direction by reason of the fickleness
of the mind, but only that they have marks drawn in regular lines and different
characters, shaped and impressed with all kinds of well approved forms,
the peculiarities of which, being mingled together and combined properly,
will produce a musical harmony.
For some persons have looked upon the art of variegating as so random and
obscure a matter, that they have referred it to weavers. But I admire not
only the art itself, but the name likewise, and most especially so when
I look upon the divisions of the earth and the spheres in heaven, and the
differences between various plants and various animals, and that most variegated
texture, I mean the world; for I am compelled to suppose, that the maker
of this universal textile fabric was also the inventor of all varied and
variegating science; and I look with reverence upon the inventor, and I
honor the art which he invented, and I am amazed at the work which is the
result, and this too, though it is but a very small portion of it which
I have been able to see, but still, from the portion which has been unfolded
to me, if indeed I may say that it has been unfolded, I hope to form a
tolerably accurate judgment of the whole, guiding my conjectures by the
light of analogy.
Nevertheless I admire the lover of wisdom for having studied the same art, collecting and thinking fit to weave together many things, though different, and proceeding from different sources, into the same web; for taking the two first elements from the grammatical knowledge imparted to children, that is to say, reading and writing, and taking from the more perfect growth of knowledge the skill which is found among poets, and the comprehension of ancient history, and deriving certainty and freedom from deception from arithmetic and geometry, in which sciences there is need of proportions and calculations; and borrowing from music rhyme, and metre, and harmonies, and chromatics, and diatonics, and combined and disjoined melodies; and having derived from rhetoric invention, and language, and arrangement, and memory, and action; and from philosophy, whatever has been omitted in any of these separate branches, and all the other things of which human life consists, he has put together in one most admirably arranged work, combining great learning of one kind with great learning of another kind.
Now the sacred scripture calls the maker of this compound work Besaleel,
which name, being interpreted, signifies “in the shadow of God;” for he
makes all the copies, and the man by name Moses makes all the models, as
the principal architect; and for this reason it is, that the one only draws
outlines as it were, but the other is not content with such sketches, but
makes the archetypal natures themselves, and has already adorned the holy
places with his variegating art; but the wise man is called the only adorner
of the place of wisdom in the oracles delivered in the sacred scriptures.
XXXVI. And the most beautiful and varied work of God, this world, has been
created in this its present state of perfection by all-wise knowledge;
and how can it be anything but right to receive the art of variegating
as a noble effort of knowledge? the most sacred copy of which is the whole
word of wisdom, which will bear about in its bosom the things of heaven
and of earth, from which the practiser of virtue elaborates his notions
of various things.
For after the white sheep he immediately beheld the variegated animals, stamped with the impression of instruction. The third kind are the ring-straked and speckled; and what man in his senses would deny that these also are, as to their genus, variegated? but still he is not so very eager about the varieties of the members of the flocks, as about the road which leads to virtue and excellence; for the prophet intends that he who proceeds along this road shall be besprinkled with dust and water; because it is related that the earth and water being kneaded together and fashioned into shape by the Creator of man, was formed into one body, not being made by hand, but being the work of invisible nature.
Therefore it is the first principle of wisdom not to forget one’s self,
and always to keep before one’s eyes the materials of which one has been
compounded; for in this way a man will get rid of boasting and arrogance,
which of all evils is the one most hated by God; for who that ever admits
into his mind the recollection that the first principles of his formation
are dust and water, would ever be so puffed by vanity as to be unduly elated?
On this account the prophet has thought it fit that those who are about
to offer sacrifice shall be be sprinkled with the aforesaid things; thinking
no one worthy to appear at a sacrifice who has not first of all learnt
to know himself, and to comprehend the nothingness of mankind, and the
elements of which he is composed, conjecturing from them that he himself
is utterly insignificant.
XXXVII. These three signs, the white, the variegated, and the ring-straked and speckled, are as yet imperfect in the practiser of virtue, who has not himself as yet attained to perfection. But, in the case of him who is perfect, they also appear to be perfect. And in what manner they appear so we will examine. The sacred scripture has appointed that the great High Priest, when he was about to perform the ministrations appointed by the law, should be besprinkled with water and ashes in the first place, that he might come to a remembrance of himself. For the wise Abraham also, when he went forth to converse with God, pronounced himself to be dust and ashes. In the second place, it enjoins him to put on a tunic reaching down to his feet, and the variously-embroidered thing which was called his breast-plate, an image and representation of the light-giving stars which appear in heaven.
For there are, as it seems, two temples belonging to God; one being this
world, in which the high priest is the divine word, his own first-born
son. The other is the rational soul, the priest of which is the real true
man, the copy of whom, perceptible to the senses, is he who performs his
paternal vows and sacrifices, to whom it is enjoined to put on the aforesaid
tunic, the representation of the universal heaven, in order that the world
may join with the man in offering sacrifice, and that the man may likewise
co-operate with the universe.
He is now therefore shown to have these two things, the speckled and the
variegated character. We will now proceed to explain the third, and most
perfect kind, which is denominated thoroughly white. When this same high
priest enters into the innermost parts of the holy temple, he is clothed
in the variegated garment, and he also assumes another linen robe, made
of the very finest flax. And this is an emblem of vigor, and incorruptibility,
and the most brilliant light. For such a veil is a thing very difficult
to be broken, and it is made of nothing mortal, and when it is properly
and carefully purified it has a most clear and brilliant appearance. And
these injunctions contain this figurative meaning, that of those who in
a pure and guileless spirit serve the living God, there is no one who does
not at first depend upon the firmness and obstinacy of his mind, despising
all human affairs, which allure men with their specious bait, and injure
them, and produce weakness in them. In the next place, he aims at immortality,
laughing at the blind inventions with which mortals delude themselves.
And last of all, he shines with the unclouded and most brilliant light
of truth, no longer desiring any of the things which belong to false opinion,
which prefer darkness rather than light.
XXXVIII. The great high priest of the confession, then, may have now been sufficiently described by us, being stamped with the impressions above-mentioned, the white, the variegated, and the ring-straked and speckled. But he who is desirous of the administration of human affairs, by name Joseph, does not, as it appears, claim for himself any of the extreme characteristics, but only that variegated one which is in the middle between the others. For we read that Joseph had a “coat of many colors,” [Genesis xxxvii. 3] not being sprinkled with the sacred purifications, by means of which he might have known that he himself was only a compound of dust and water, and not being able to touch that thoroughly white and most shining raiment, virtue. But being clothed in the much-variegated web of political affairs, with which the smallest possible portion of truth is mixed up; and also many and large portions of plausible, probable, and likely falsehoods, from which all the sophists of Egypt, and all the augurs, and ventriloquists, and sorcerers spring; men skillful in juggling, and in incantations, and in tricks of all kinds, from whose treacherous arts it is very difficult to escape.
And it is on this account that Moses very naturally represents this robe
as stained with blood; since the whole life of the man who is mixed up
in political affairs is tainted, warring on others and being warred against,
and being aimed at, and attacked, and shot at by all the unexpected chances
which befall him.
Examine now the man who has great influence with the people, on whom the affairs of the city depend. Do not be alarmed at those who look with admiration upon him; and you will find many diseases lurking within him, and you will see that he is entangled in many disasters, and that fortune is dragging him violently in different directions, though he bends his neck the other way, and resists, although invisibly, and in fact that fortune is seeking to overthrow and destroy him; or else the people themselves are impatient at his supremacy, or he is exposed to the attacks of some more powerful rival. And envy is a formidable enemy, and one hard to be shaken off, clinging also to everything that is called good fortune, and it is not easy to escape from it.
XXXIX. What reason is there then for our congratulating ourselves on the
administration of political affairs as if we were clothed in a garment
of many colors, deceived by its external splendor, and not perceiving its
ugliness, which is kept out of sight, and hidden, and full of treachery
and guile? Let us then put off this flowery robe, and put on that sacred
one woven with the embroideries of virtue; for thus we shall escape the
snares which want of skill, and ignorance, and want of knowledge, and education
lay for us, of which Laban is the companion. For when the sacred word has
purified us with the sprinklings prepared beforehand for purification,
and when it has adorned us with the select reasonings of true philosophy,
and, having led us to that man who has stood the test, has made us genuine,
and conspicuous, and shining, it blames the treacherous disposition which
seeks to raise itself up to invalidate what is said.
For the scripture says: “I have seen what Laban does unto thee,” [Genesis
xxxi. 12] namely, things contrary to the benefits which I conferred on
you, things impure, wicked, and altogether suited to darkness. But it is
not right for the man who anchors on the hope of the alliance of God to
crouch and tremble, to whom God says, “I am the God who was seen by thee
in the place of God.” A very glorious boast for the soul, that God should
think fit to appear to and to converse with it. And do not pass by what
is here said, but examine it accurately, and see whether there are really
two Gods. For it is said : “I am the God who was seen by thee;” not in
my place, but in the place of God, as if he meant of some other God.
What then ought we to say? There is one true God only: but they who are called Gods, by an abuse of language, are numerous; on which account the holy scripture on the present occasion indicates that it is the true God that is meant by the use of the article, the expression being, “I am the God ('ho theos');” but when the word is used incorrectly, it is put without the article, the expression being, “He who was seen by thee in the place,” not of the God ('tou theou'), but simply “of God” ('theou'); and what he here calls God is his most ancient word, not having any superstitious regard to the position of the names, but only proposing one end to himself, namely, to give a true account of the matter; for in other passages the sacred historian, when he considered whether there really was any name belonging to the living God, showed that he knew that there was none properly belonging to him; but that whatever appellation any one may give him, will be an abuse of terms; for the living God is not of a nature to be described, but only to be.
XL. And a proof of this may be found in the oracular answer given by God
to the person who asked what name he had, “I am that I am,” [Exodus iii.
14] that the questioner might know the existence of those things which
it was not possible for man to conceive not being connected with God. Accordingly,
to the incorporeal souls which are occupied in his service, it is natural
for him to appear as he is, conversing with them as a friend with his friends;
but to those souls which are still in the body he must appear in the resemblance
of the angels, though without changing his nature (for he is unchangeable),
but merely implanting in those who behold him an idea of his having another
form, so that they fancy that it is his image, not an imitation of him,
but the very archetypal appearance itself.
There is then an old story much celebrated, that the Divinity, assuming
the resemblance of men of different countries, goes round the different
cities of men, searching out the deeds of iniquity and lawlessness; and
perhaps, though the fable is not true, it is a suitable and profitable
one. But the scripture, which at all times advances its conceptions with
respect to the Deity, in a more reverential and holy tone, and which likewise
desires to instruct the life of the foolish, has spoken of God under the
likeness of a man, though not of any particular man; attributing to him,
with this view, the possession of a face, and hands, and feet, and of a
mouth and voice, and also anger and passion, and moreover, defensive weapons,
and goings in and goings out, and motions upwards and downwards, and in
every direction, not indeed using all these expressions with strict truth,
but having regard to the advantage of those who are to learn from it; for
the writers knew that some men are very dull in their natures, so as to
be utterly unable to form any conception whatever of God apart from a body,
whom it would be impossible to admonish if they were to speak in any other
style than the existing one, of representing God as coming and departing
like a man; and as descending and ascending, and as using his voice, and
as being angry with sinners, and being implacable in his anger; and speaking
too of his darts and swords, and whatever other instruments are suitable
to be employed against the wicked, as being all previously ready.
For we must be content if such men can be brought to a proper state, by
the fear which is suspended over them by such descriptions; and one may
almost say that these are the only two paths taken, in the whole history
of the law; one leading to the plain truth, owing to which we have such
assertions as, “God is not as a man;” [Numbers xxiii. 19] the other, that
which has regard to the opinions of foolish men, in reference to whom it
is said, “The Lord God shall instruct you, like as if a man instructs his
son.” [Deut. i. 31.]
XLI. Why then do we any longer wonder, if God at times assumes the likeness of the angels, as he sometimes assumes even that of men, for the sake of assisting those who address their entreaties to him? so that when he says, “I am the God who was seen by thee in the place of God;” [Genesis xxxi. 13] we must understand this, that he on that occasion took the place of an angel, as far as appearance went, without changing his own real nature, for the advantage of him who was not, as yet, able to bear the sight of the true God; for as those who are not able to look upon the sun itself, look upon the reflected rays of the sun as the sun itself, and upon the halo around the moon as if it were the moon itself; so also do those who are unable to bear the sight of God, look upon his image, his angel word, as himself.
Do you not see that encyclical instruction, that is, Hagar, says to the
angel, “Art thou God who seest me?” [Genesis xvi. 13] for she was not capable
of beholding the most ancient cause, inasmuch as she was by birth a native
of Egypt. But now the mind begins to be improved, so as to be able to contemplate
the governor of all the powers; on which account he says himself, “I am
the Lord God,” [Genesis xxxi. 13] I whose image you formerly beheld instead
of me, and whose pillar you set up, engraving on it a most sacred inscription;
and the inscription indicated that I stood alone, and that I established
the nature of all things, bringing disorder and irregularity into order
and regularity, and supporting the universe firmly, so that it might rest
on a firm and solid foundation, my own ministering word.
XLII. For the pillar is the symbol of three things; of standing, of dedication,
and of an inscription: now the standing and the inscription have been described,
but the dedication it is necessary should be explained to all men. For
heaven and the world are an offering dedicated to God who made them; and
all the cosmopolitan and God-loving souls, which dedicate and consecrate
themselves to him, not allowing any mortal thing to drag them in an opposite
direction, are never weary of hallowing their own life, and adorning it
with every kind of beauty as a meet offering for him. And he is a foolish
man who does not set up a pillar to God, but who erects one to himself
instead, attributing stability to the things of creation, which is tossed
about in every direction, and thinking those things worthy of inscriptions
and panegyrics, which are in reality full of matter for blame and accusation,
and which as such had better never have been mentioned in an inscription
at all, or if they had, had better have been speedily erased again.
On which account the holy scripture says distinctly, “Thou shalt not set up a pillar to thyself;” [Deut. xvi. 22] for in truth there is nothing belonging to man that is stable, no, not though some persons persist even so obstinately in affirming it. But they not only think that they stand firmly, but also that they are worthy of honors and inscriptions, forgetting him who is alone worthy of honor, and who is alone firmly fixed; for while they are turning aside and wandering away from the path which leads to virtue, the outward sense leads them still more astray, that is to say, the woman who is akin to them, she also compels them to run ashore; therefore, the whole soul, like a ship, being shut in all around, is offered up as a pillar; for the sacred scriptures tell us that Lot’s wife having turned back to look behind her, became a pillar of salt, and this is said very naturally and fitly; for if any one does not look forwards at those things which are worthy of being seen and heard (and these things are the virtues and the actions done in accordance with virtue), but looks backwards at the things which are behind him, at deaf glory, and blind riches, and senseless vigor of body, and an empty elegance of mind, pursuing these objects only, and such as are akin to them, he will lie as a lifeless pillar melting away by itself; for salt is not a thing to preserve his firmness.
XLIII. Very admirably therefore does the practiser of virtue, having learnt
by continued study that creation is a thing in its own nature moveable,
but that the uncreated God is unchangeable and immoveable, erect a pillar
to God, and anoint it after he has erected it; for God says, “Thou hast
anointed my pillar.” [Genesis xxxi. 13.] But do not fancy that that stone
was anointed with oil, but understand rather that that opinion, that God
is the only being who stands firmly, was thoroughly hardened by exercise,
and established in the soul by the science of wrestling, not that science
by which bodies are made fat, but that by which the mind acquires strength
and irresistible vigor; for the man who is eager in the pursuit of good
studies and virtuous objects is fond of labors, and fond of exercises;
so that very naturally, having worked out the science of training which
is the sister of the art of medicine, he anoints and brings to perfection
all the reasonings of virtue and piety, and dedicates them, as a most beautiful
and lasting offering to God.
For this reason, after mentioning the dedication of the pillar, God adds
that, “Thou vowedst a vow to me.” Now a vow also is, to speak properly,
a dedication, since he who makes a vow is said to offer up, as a gift to
God, not only his own possessions, but himself likewise, who is the owner
of them; for says the scripture, “the man is holy who nourishes the locks
of the hair of his head; who has vowed a vow.” But if he is holy he is
undoubtedly an offering to God, no longer meddling with anything unholy
or profane; and there is an evidence in favor of my argument, in the conduct
of the prophetess, and mother of a prophet, Hannah, whose name being translated,
signifies grace; for she says that she gives her son, “Samuel, as a gift
to the Holy One,” [1 Samuel i. 28] not dedicating him more as a human being,
than as a disposition full of inspiration, and possessed by a divinely
sent impulse; and the name Samuel being interpreted means, “appointed to
God.”
Why then, O my soul, do you any longer waste yourself in vain speculations
and labors? and why do you not go as a pupil to the practiser of virtue,
taking up arms against the passions, and against vain opinion, to learn
from him the way to wrestle with them? For as soon as you have learnt this
art, you will become the leader of a flock, not of one which is destitute
of marks, and of reason, and of docility, but of one which is well approved,
and rational, and beautiful, of which, if you become the leader, you will
pity the miserable race of mankind, and will not cease to reverence the
Deity; and you will never be weary of blessing God, and moreover you will
engrave hymns suited to your sacred subject upon pillars, that you may
not only speak fluently, but may also sing musically the virtues of the
living God; for by these means you will be able to return to your father’s
house, being delivered from a long and profitless wandering in a foreign
land.
End of Book 1.
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