The third in the trilogy dealing with the famous Jewish historian. With a gap of seven years (January 1935) since The Jew of Rome, it may prove a difficult book to sell, since many threads go back to characters and incidents of the previous books. Somehow, it failed to catch my imagination in the way its predecessors did. Josephus' inner conflicts were less apparent; he seems to be frightened rather than torn, his sudden burst of courage is unconvincing, his ambition and its dire results did not stir sympathy. The period spans the time of his retirement, as he works on his History of the Jews, up to his death, victim of Domitian's fears and jealousy and dictator complexes. Vigorous picture of decadent Rome, with a singularly modern slant in the rumblings of anti-Semitism, the betrayals of class against class, and the rationalization of cruelty.