The Outward Senses
The relationship between the mind and the outward senses has long been a subject of deep reflection in ancient thought. The writings of Philo of Alexandria and the Testament of Reuben present a unified and profound understanding: that the outward senses, though necessary for human existence, can obscure the higher operations of the mind when they dominate. The outward senses—sight, hearing, smell, taste, speech, and bodily impulses—are not merely neutral faculties; they are active forces that shape perception, desire, and behaviour. When improperly governed, they lead the mind into sleep, error, and ultimately destruction. This framework is directly connected to the principle of self-knowledge in gnosis, because to “know thyself” is to recognise how these outward faculties shape inner awareness and to discern when they obscure the deeper mind rather than revealing it.
Philo articulates this principle with striking clarity:
“And again, when the mind is awake the outward sense is extinguished; and the proof of this is, that when we desire to form an accurate conception of anything, we retreat to a desert place, we shut our eyes, we stop up our ears, we discard the exercise of our senses; and so, when the mind rises up again and awakens, the outward sense is put an end to.”
Here, the act of withdrawing from sensory input is presented as essential for true intellectual activity. The mind, when engaged in deep contemplation, cannot function properly while overwhelmed by external stimuli. Sight, sound, and physical sensation compete with the mind’s capacity to reason. Thus, the outward senses must be silenced for the intellect to operate at its highest level. In terms of gnosis, this withdrawal is not escape but a movement toward self-knowledge: by reducing external impressions, the individual becomes aware of the inner structure of perception itself, fulfilling the ancient injunction to “know thyself” by observing the mind apart from sensory distortion.
Philo continues by describing the inverse condition:
“Let us now consider another point, namely, how the mind goes to sleep: for when the outward sense is awakened and has become excited, when the sight beholds any works of painting or of sculpture beautifully wrought, is not the mind then without anything on which to exercise its functions, contemplating nothing which is a proper subject for the intellect?”
This statement reveals a critical insight: sensory stimulation, especially when intense or pleasurable, displaces intellectual activity. The mind becomes passive, absorbed in the immediate experience rather than engaging in deeper reasoning. Visual beauty, artistic craftsmanship, and aesthetic pleasure captivate the senses but leave the intellect idle. From the perspective of self-knowledge, this illustrates how easily attention is captured by appearances, preventing the practitioner of gnosis from observing the inner movements of thought that constitute true understanding of oneself.
The same applies to hearing:
“What more? When the faculty of hearing is attending to some melodious combination of sound, can the mind turn itself to the contemplation of its proper objects? by no means.”
Music, rhythm, and sound engage the auditory sense in such a way that the mind is diverted from its proper task. Instead of reflection, there is absorption; instead of reasoning, there is sensation. The mind becomes a spectator rather than an active agent. In gnostic terms, this demonstrates how external harmony can obscure internal awareness, preventing the turning inward required for self-knowledge and the recognition of one’s own mental processes.
Philo extends this analysis to taste and bodily appetite:
“And it is much more destitute of occupation, when taste rises up and eagerly devotes itself to the pleasures of the belly;”
Here, the danger intensifies. The pleasures of consumption—food and drink—do not merely distract the mind; they subordinate it. The mind becomes enslaved to bodily needs, losing its independence and clarity. In relation to gnosis, this illustrates how attachment to bodily satisfaction prevents the examination of the self, since “know thyself” requires detachment from immediate gratification in order to perceive the governing principles of desire.
To counter this condition, Philo introduces a symbolic instruction drawn from Moses:
“And it shall be to you a peg in your girdle; and it shall be, that when you sit down you shall dig in it, and, heaping up earth, shall cover your Shame.”
He interprets this symbolically:
“Speaking symbolically, and giving the name of peg to reason which digs up secret affairs; and he bids him to bear it upon the affection with which he ought to be birded, and not to allow it to slacken and become loosened;”
Reason is likened to a peg—an instrument used to uncover and conceal. It must remain firmly attached, never loosened. When the mind descends into bodily passions, reason must actively work to regulate and purify them. In terms of self-knowledge, this “peg” represents the stabilising function of reflective awareness, which anchors the individual in the practice of examining oneself rather than being swept away by sensory impulse.
Philo explains the condition of the mind when it yields to the senses:
“and this must be done when the mind, departing from the intense consideration of objects perceptible by the intellect, is brought down to the passions, and sits down, yielding to, and being guided by, the necessities of the body:”
This descent marks the transition from intellectual activity to sensory domination. The mind “sits down,” becoming passive, guided not by reason but by bodily impulses. From a gnostic perspective, this is precisely the loss of self-knowledge: the individual no longer observes themselves as a thinking being but becomes identified with sensation and desire.
The consequences are severe:
“and this is the case when the mind, being absorbed in luxurious associations, forgets itself, being subdued by the things which conduct it to pleasure, and so we become enslaved, and yield ourselves up to unconcealed impurity.”
Here, enslavement is the key concept. The outward senses, when indulged without restraint, do not merely distract—they dominate. The mind loses its authority and becomes subject to pleasure. In terms of gnosis, this is the forgetting of oneself, the opposite of “know thyself,” where awareness is replaced by identification with external stimulation.
Yet Philo also presents the possibility of restoration:
“But if reason be able to purify the passion, then neither when we drink do we become intoxicated, nor when we eat do we become indolent through satiety, but we feast soberly without indulging in folly.”
Reason does not eliminate the senses but governs them. Eating and drinking remain, but without excess. The senses are brought into harmony with the mind, rather than overwhelming it. This harmony is essential for self-knowledge, because gnosis does not reject bodily existence but integrates it under conscious awareness, allowing the individual to observe themselves even in action.
He concludes with a powerful analogy:
“Therefore, the awakening of the outward senses is the sleep of the mind; and the awakening of the mind is the discharge of the outward senses from all occupation. Just as when the sun arises the brightness of all the rest of the stars becomes invisible; but when the sun sets, they are seen. And so, like the sun, the mind, when it is awakened, overshadows the outward senses, but when it goes to sleep it permits them to shine.”
This imagery captures the entire dynamic. The mind is like the sun—when it is active, the senses fade into the background. When it is inactive, the senses dominate the field of experience. In gnosis, this “sun” is the illuminating awareness that allows one to know oneself by revealing the hierarchy between perception and understanding.
The Testament of Reuben complements this framework by identifying the outward senses as structured forces within human nature. It states:
“For seven spirits are established against man, and they are the sources of the deeds of youth.”
These “spirits” correspond to functional aspects of human physiology and behaviour:
“And seven other spirits are given to man at creation, so that by them every human deed is done.”
The text then enumerates them:
“The first is the spirit of life, The first spirit is of life, with which man's whole being is created.. The second is the spirit of sight, with which comes desire.”
Sight is directly linked with desire. What is seen stimulates longing, demonstrating that the outward senses are not passive but generative. In terms of self-knowledge, this shows that perception is not neutral; it actively shapes the inner condition that must be understood in gnosis.
“The third is the spirit of hearing, with which comes instruction.”
Hearing is associated with learning, indicating its constructive potential when properly directed. This aligns with gnosis as instruction inwardly received and processed through self-awareness.
“The fourth is the spirit of smell, with which is given tastes for drawing air and breath.”
Smell connects to respiration and environmental awareness, showing its role in sustaining life. In self-knowledge, this reflects the constant interaction between inner and outer conditions.
“The fifth is the spirit of speech, with which comes knowledge.”
Speech transforms internal thought into external expression, linking the mind and the senses. It is through reflective speech that self-knowledge can be articulated and examined.
“The sixth is the spirit of taste, for consuming food and drink; by it comes strength, because in food is the substance of strength.”
Taste is tied to nourishment and physical power, reinforcing the necessity of the senses for bodily existence, yet also showing how dependence on them can obscure awareness if unexamined.
“The seventh is the spirit of procreation and intercourse, with which comes sin through fondness for pleasure.”
This final spirit is particularly dangerous:
“For this reason, it is the last in order of creation, and the first in that of youth, because it is filled with ignorance, and leads the youth as a blind man into a ditch, and like an animal over a cliff.”
Here, the outward sense associated with procreation becomes a dominant force in youth, driven by ignorance and leading to destructive outcomes. In gnosis, this ignorance is precisely the absence of self-knowledge, where instinct overrides reflective awareness.
Reuben introduces an additional element:
“In addition to all these there is an eighth spirit of sleep, with which is brought about the trance of nature and the image of death.”
This “spirit of sleep” corresponds directly to Philo’s concept of the mind’s inactivity. When the senses dominate, the mind enters a state akin to death—unaware, unreflective, and governed by impulse. This is the absence of gnosis, where the self is not known.
The text further explains:
“With these spirits are mingled the spirits of error.”
These include:
“First, the spirit of fornication resides in the nature and in the senses; the second, the spirit of insatiableness, in the stomach; the third, the spirit of fighting, in the liver.”
Each error is tied to a bodily location, reinforcing the idea that these forces are physical and embedded in human physiology, and must be observed in self-knowledge to be understood and governed.
“The fourth is the spirit of flattery and trickery, in order that through excessive effort one might appear to be at the height of his power.”
“The fifth is the spirit of pride, that one may be boastful and arrogant.”
“The sixth is the spirit of lying, which through destructiveness and rivalry, handles his affairs smoothly and secretively even with his relatives and his household.”
“The seventh is the spirit of injustice, with which are thefts and acts of rapacity, that a man may fulfil the desire of his heart; for injustice works together with the other spirits by the taking of gifts.”
These errors are not abstract—they arise from the interaction of the senses with desire and bodily impulses, and can only be recognised through the practice of self-knowledge.
Reuben concludes:
“And with all these the spirit of sleep is joined which is that of error and fantasy.”
“And so every young man is destroyed, darkening his mind from the truth, and not understanding the Law of God, nor obeying the admonitions of his fathers as befell me also in my youth.”
The darkening of the mind is the ultimate consequence of unrestrained senses. Truth becomes inaccessible, and guidance is ignored. This is the collapse of self-knowledge, where the individual no longer recognises their own condition.
Yet there is hope:
“And now, my children, love the truth, and it will preserve you: hear you the words of Reuben your father.”
The preservation of the mind depends on a reorientation—away from sensory domination and toward truth, which in gnosis is identical with the recognition of oneself.
In conclusion, both Philo and the Testament of Reuben present a coherent doctrine: the outward senses are essential but dangerous. They must be governed by reason and subordinated to the mind. When the senses dominate, the mind sleeps; when the mind awakens, the senses are brought into order. This balance determines whether a person lives in clarity or falls into error, whether they are governed by reason or enslaved by pleasure. In gnosis, this balance is the foundation of self-knowledge, for to know thyself is to recognise the structure of perception, the hierarchy of faculties, and the state of one’s own awareness at every moment.



