De Aeternitate Mundi
Philo Judaeus
The works of Philo Judaeus, the contemporary of Josephus, volume 4. Yonge, C. D., translator. London: Henry G. Bohn, 1855.
Is it then destroyed by a complete destruction of its distinctive qualities? This again is impossible, for there remains, as the adversaries affirm, a quality of arrangement which by
for in that case it would be necessary to confess that the corruption of a body can be reduced to a state of non-existence. Why so? Because if each of the particular elements were destroyed separately, it would be possible for it to become changed into another; but if they are altogether destroyed at one and the same moment by confusion, then it would be necessary to imagine what is absolutely impossible.
Again, besides these arguments, if all things, say they, were destroyed by fire, then what will God have to do during all that time, except absolutely nothing? And is it not reasonable to say so? For at present, he overlooks and presides over everything, and regulates everything like a genuine father, and if one is to say the truth, he guides and directs everything, sitting as it were by the side of the sun, and moon, and the other planets, and fixed stars, and also by the air, and the other parts of the world, and he co-operates with them in everything which can conduce to the durability of the universe and to its blameless management, in accordance with right reason.
But if everything is destroyed, then he will have an existence which will be rendered absolutely miserable, by inactivity and irremediable want of employment; than which what idea can be more absurd? I hesitate to add, what it would be impious to say, that death will ensue to God if absolute inactivity falls to his lot; for if you take away the perpetual motion of the soul, then you will beyond all question also destroy the soul itself. And the soul of the world, in the opinion of those who maintain the opposite doctrine, is God.
Is it not however worth while to examine this question, in what manner there can be a regeneration of all those things which have been destroyed by fire, and resolved into fire? for when their substance has been wholly destroyed by the fire, it follows of necessity that the fire itself must also be extinguished as no longer having any nourishment. Therefore, as long as it remained the seminal principle of arrangement was likewise preserved, but when it is destroyed that principle is destroyed with it. But it would be impious, and an impiety of double dye, not only to attribute destruction to the world, but also to take away the possibility of its regeneration; as if God delighted in disorder, and irregularity, and all kinds of evil
But we must examine this question more accurately, in the following manner. There are three species in fire; the coal, and the flame, and the light. Now coal is the fire in its earthy substance, which, like a sort of spiritual habit, couches and lies hid in a sort of cavern, pervading it all to its very extremities. And the flame is that part which, being raised on high, is lifted up from its fuel. And the light is that which is emitted from the flame, so as to co-operate with the eyes, in order to enable them to comprehend what is seen. And the flame occupies the middle position between the coal and the light; for when it is extinguished it ends in coal, and when it is kindled it excites the light, which, being deprived of its burning power, blazes.
If therefore, we affirm that the world is dissolved by conflagration, it would not be coal, because, in that case there will be a great deal of the earthy substance left behind, in which also fire must necessarily be contained. But we must agree, that none of the other bodies subsist any longer, but that earth, and water, and air, are all dissolved into unmixed fire.
Nor, again, would it become flame; for that can only exist in connexion with nourishment; and, if nothing is left behind, being deprived of all nourishment it will immediately be extinguished. It follows from all this, that it cannot become light either; for light by itself has no substance at all, but flows from the things before mentioned, coal and flame, not in a great degree from the coal, but very much from the flame; for it is diffused over a very great space indeed. But if, as has been already proved, those things had no existence from the conflagration of all things, then there could not be any light either. For the abundant, and vast, and extensive brilliancy of mid-day, when the sun proceeds under the earth, is at once caused to disappear by night, especially if it be a moonless night. Therefore the world is not destroyed by fire, but is indestructible. And if it should be destroyed by fire, there could not be another created.
On which account some of the Stoics also, being gifted with a more acute discernment, and perceiving that they would infallibly be convicted, thought it well to be beforehand in preparing assistance as it were for a defunct proposition. But what they prepared was of no use; for, since fire is the cause of all motion, and since motion is the beginning of generation, for it is impossible that anything whatever should
But all these ideas are the invention of quibblers, who employ all their artifices in opposition to the truth. Why so? Because it is impossible, as has been proved already, that the world, after it has been destroyed by conflagration, should become similar to coal, inasmuch as there is a vast quantity of earthy substance left in which the fire must of necessity lie in ambush. And perhaps too the conflagration could not prevail in every quarter, if the heaviest and most invincible of the elements, namely the earth, still remains, without being dissolved; but it must of necessity change, either into flame or into light: into flame, as Cleanthes thought; into light, as Chrysippus conceived.
But if it becomes flame, then, when it approaches extinction, it will be extinguished all at once, and not partially or gradually. For the nutriment exists along with it; on which account, while there is a great deal of it, it increases and is diffused; but when it is stunted it becomes less. And any one might conjecture the truth of what takes place from what he sees happen among us. A lamp, when any one pours oil upon it, gives forth a most brilliant flame; but when any one ceases to supply it with that nutriment, and leaves only a small portion in the lamp, then the lamp is at once extinguished, and does not give out the smallest portion of flame.
If again this is not the case, but if the world becomes light, then again it changes altogether. Why so? Because it has no substance or character of its own, but is generated from flame, and when this is wholly and completely extinguished in all its parts, it follows of necessity that the light also must be extinguished, and that not partially, but altogether. For what flame is to nourishment, that also is light to flame.
As therefore the flame is extinguished concurrently with the want of nourishment, so also is the light simultaneously with the flame, so that it is actually impossible for the world to be capable of
Nevertheless, as Chrysippus says, some suppose that fire resolves all the arrangement of the universe when the elements are separated into itself, so that it becomes the seed of the world which is about to be made; and suppose in consequence that, of all the ideas which he and his sect have entertained on the subject, none are falsified. Granting, in the first place, that generation proceeds from seed, and that all dissolution is a resolving back into seed; in the second place, because it is argued by natural philosophers that the world is a rational nature, inasmuch as it is not only possessed of life, but is also endowed with intellect, and moreover even with wisdom; by these arguments he establishes the contrary proposition to that which he intends, namely, that it will never be destroyed.
But the proofs are ready at hand to those who do not fear to join in the investigation. Therefore the world resembles either a plant or an animal. But whether it is a plant or whether it is an animal, still, if it be destroyed by conflagration, it will never be itself its own seed. And the circumstances which take place among ourselves bear witness that nothing, whether greater or less, when destroyed, has ever been separated in such a manner as to engender seed.
Do you not see how many materials of plants susceptible of cultivation there are, and how many kinds of wild plants too are diffused over every portion of the earth? Every one of these trees, as long as the trunk is in good health, together with its fruit, produces also a seed to propagate its species; but becoming destroyed after a lapse of time, and being wholly withered, roots and all, it never becomes resolved into a ripened seed.
And so too in the same manner the different kinds of animals, which it is not easy even to enumerate by reason of their multitude, as long as they survive and flourish vigorously, produce a seed, which is calculated to propagate their species; but when they are dead there is no longer any seed. For it would be absurd for a man when he is alive to employ only the eighth part of his soul, which is called the generative power, for the propagation of a being like himself, but after he
And besides, there is no single existing thing which is brought to perfection by seed alone without its appropriate nourishment. For seed resembles the beginning, and the beginning by itself does not make perfect; for beware of imagining that the ear of corn blossoms and ripens solely from the seed, which is cast by the husbandman on the ploughed field; for in truth, dryness and moisture, the twofold moisture which is derived from the earth, co-operate in the greatest degree towards its growth. And so the creature which is fashioned in the womb is not permitted by nature to be brought to life and perfection by the seed alone, but also by the nourishment shed upon it from without, which the woman who has conceived supplies.
Why then do I say this? Because in the case of such a conflagration as that of which I have been speaking, the seed alone will be left, there being no nutriment remaining, since everything which was to have supplied nutriment will have been resolved into fire; so that the world, which would be to be formed, according to the principle of regeneration, will have a lame and imperfect form and character, since that which is chiefly required to co-operate towards its perfection, on which, as on a staff, the seminal origin ought to, and naturally does, lean, is destroyed; but this would be absurd, as is shown, and made manifest from the clearest evidence.
Again, all those things which derive their origin from seed are of a greater magnitude than the seed which gives them their existence, and are seen to fill a more extended space; for very often trees, whose tops reach to heaven itself, shoot up out of a very small grain of seed; and the fattest and tallest animals grow from a very small quantity of moisture, which is laid as their foundation; but there happens that which was mentioned a little while ago, that these, at the time nearest to their birth are very little, but that subsequently they keep on increasing in size till they arrive at complete perfection.