Joseph’s manifest delight in his statement of the doctrines of Heraclitus, and his subsequent refutation of the heathen philosopher caused Mathias to forget temporarily certain ideas that he had been fostering for some days—­that God, being the designer and maker of all things, and their governor, is likewise the creator of time itself, for he is the father of its father, and the father of time is the world, which made its own mother—­the creation.  So that time stands towards God in the relation of a grandson; for this world is a young son of God.  On these things the sage’s thoughts had been running for some days past, and he would have liked to have expounded his theory to Joseph:  that nothing is future to God:  creations and the very boundaries of time are subject.

He said much more, but Joseph did not hear.  He was too busy memorising what he had already heard, and during long hours he strove to come to terms with what he remembered, but in vain.  The more he thought, the less clear did it seem to him that in eternity there is neither past nor future, that in eternity everything is present.  Mathias’s very words; but when he said them, there seemed to be something behind the words; while listening, it seemed to Joseph that sight had been given to him, but his eyes proved too weak to bear the too great illumination, and he had been obliged to cover them with his hands, shutting out a great deal so that he might see just a little ... as it were between his fingers.  As we think of God only under the form of light, it seemed to him that the revelation entered into him by his eyes rather than by his ears.  He would return to the sage every day, but what if he were not able to remember, if it were all to end in words with nothing behind the words?  The sage said that in a little while the discourses would not seem so elusive and evanescent.  At present they seemed to Joseph like the mist on the edge of a stream, and he strove against the belief that a philosopher is like a man who sets out to walk after the clouds.

Such a belief being detestable, he resolved to rid himself of it, and Mathias would help him, he was sure, and in this hope he confided his life to him, going back to the night when Samuel appeared to him, and recounting his father’s business and character, introducing the different tutors that were chosen for him, and his own choice of Azariah, to whom he owed his knowledge of Greek.  To all of which the philosopher listened complacently enough, merely asking if Azariah shared the belief prevalent in Galilee that the world was drawing to a close.  On hearing that he did, he seemed to lose interest in Joseph’s story of Azariah’s relations to his neighbours, nor did he seem unduly afflicted at hearing that only the most orthodox views were acceptable in Galilee.  His indifference was disheartening, but being now deep in his biography, Joseph related perforce the years he spent doing his father’s business in northern