ed reptiles and beasts, to
erect a statue of the emperor in their temples; for the Jews, with
their lofty idea of God, it was impossible. Against the attack upon
their liberty of conscience they appealed directly to Gaius. An
embassy was sent to lay their case before him, and Philo went to Italy
at the head of the embassy. "He who is learned, gentle, and modest,
and who is beloved of men, he shall be leader in the city." So said
one of the rabbis of old, and the maxim is especially appropriate to
Philo, who in name and deed was "beloved of men." Philo has left us a
very full account of his mission, so that this incident of his life is
a patch of bright light, which stands out almost glaringly from the
general shadow. The account is not merely, nor, indeed, entirely
history. Looking always for a sermon or a subject for a philosophical
lesson, Philo has tricked out the record of the facts with much
moralizing observation on the general lot of mankind, and elaborated
the part of Providence more in the spirit of religious romance than of
scientific history. Yet the main facts are clear. Philo prepared a
long philosophical "apologia" for the Jews and set out with five
colleagues for Italy. Nor were the enemies of the Jews remiss; and
Apion, the Alexandrian anti-Semite, was sent at the head of a hostile
deputation. The emperor, Gaius, was in one of his most flippant moods
and little inclined to listen to philosophical or literary
disquisitions. At first he received the Jewish deputation in a
friendly way, and led them to think that he was favorable; but when
they came to plead their cause, they had a rude awakening. Philo, who
was not likely to appreciate the bitter humor of the situation,
tells[77] with gravity that he expected that the emperor would hear
the two contending parties in all proper judicial form, but that in
fact he behaved like an insolent, overbearing tyrant. The audience--if
it can be so called--took place in the gardens of the palace, and the
emperor dragged the unfortunate deputation after him about the place,
while he gave orders to his gardeners, builders, and workmen. Whenever
they tried to put forward their arguments, he would rush ahead,
enjoying the fright and dismay of his helpless victims. At times he
would stop to make some ribald and jeering remark, as, "Why don't you
eat pork, you fools?" at which the Egyptians following loudly
applauded. Philo and his comrades, half-dead with agony, could only