Well, I have to admit, I really don’t know how he did it.  He is clearly a better showman than I am!  But I’ll get back to that later.

My father taught me all that I know about magic and being a magician.  Of course, the two things are quite different, as you would understand.

Magic is using supernatural forces to do impossible things.  You must know, as I do, that this is impossible.  Supernatural forces are only good for superstitious people.

Being a magician is appearing to use supernatural forces to do impossible things, and that is truly an art.  More than that, it is my calling, my vocation – and normally my triumph.

From right when I was very young, my father saw in me the perfect pupil.  He told me that I was learning from the best magician there was, and that if even half of his skill could rub off on me, I would be without equal – once he was dead.

So he said.

The fact was, however, that, although my father would never admit it, I had surpassed him in skill before ever I reached my 15th birthday.  Not only that, but my gift of showmanship allowed me to present my unequalled skill in a way that may never have been seen before in the history of the world.

Quite simply, no-one can believe that the things I do as a magician are anything but genuine.  They all believe that I am genuinely performing magic.

But sleight of hand is natural for me.  I can transfer an egg from my hand to my sleeve so that nobody – and I mean nobody – could ever see me do it.  Hours of practice, and my father’s stick of encouragement, honed my skills so perfectly that I can perform any of these tricks with one hand, even while performing acrobatics and running smoothly through my patter.  These are my abilities, but I rarely use even half of them.  I have found it much better to take a step back from trying to discover whether I have any limitations in this field.  Like many magicians before me, I have also found that adding a religious flavour to my performance gains me much more long-lasting fame and – more importantly – a much greater income and influence.  Long flowing robes, darkness, incense, and a deep, mysterious voice all help to sway an audience.  I am still young, but I have no doubt that I am destined for greatness in Rome, the centre of both the empire and religion – once I get over my current difficulties.

Already, thousands of people admire me for my magic and many treat me as a religious phenomenon.  Of course, I know it’s all fake, but I make the most of the well-earned adulation.

Cyprus is a bit of a cultural backwater, but it has been a good place to learn the tricks of wielding influence.  The proconsul Sergius Paulus is an intelligent man and has real integrity, so I have been using my skills to manipulate him.  It can be quite challenging at times, but a light and careful touch can still bamboozle even a clever man.  Over the last year, I have been gradually worming my way into his confidence, never making it too obvious, but making the most of every opportunity.

Yes, everything was going fine until these troublemakers, Paul and Barnabas, turned up.  At first, I thought they were just religious cranks, but then I heard some reports of miracles they had performed, and realised that I had some truly expert magicians to compete with.

Get this – they were performing “healings” outdoors in broad daylight.  No quiet rooms, helpful assistants, waving lamps, offerings to the gods, or incense.  Nothing.  When I heard that, I knew these really were magicians worthy of my mettle.

Naturally, I had confidence that I could outperform them, but I very quickly found that I would have to make a move forthwith.  You see, Sergius Paulus heard about them and their teachings and called them in for an interview.

Since I had the proconsul’s ear, it wasn’t hard to make sure that I was present at the interview.  Paul was the leader, despite being the smaller of the two.  Very intense he was, too – none of the aloofness in presentation that I have found so effective.  I must say he uses the strategy very well, though, giving a convincing impression that he passionately believes the things he is speaking about.

I was very impressed by his technique.

He was speaking to Sergius Paulus about the Jewish religion, but added a new twist about a man called Jesus, whom Paul claimed had been raised from the dead.  Now I know all about the Jewish religion – after all, I am a Jew myself – and weave many of our religious themes into my own words, but I am always very careful to respectfully acknowledge the Roman religion.  Success in the highest circles of the empire will only be possible if I follow this path, blending the ancient and modern, acknowledging all of Rome’s pantheon while bringing in the wisdom and proverbs of the Jewish scriptures.  I know it sounds like a difficult mix, but I have the skill for it.

But Paul was intriguing.  He was able to sound completely convincing.  No-one who listened to him could doubt for a moment that he believed every word he spoke.  Well, no-one except me, that is, but that’s because I’m a professional too, so I can see through all that stuff.

Very quickly I could see that I needed to somehow do something to stop him, and soon, or else all my influence with Sergius Paulus would be lost.  Paul’s skill in presenting religious arguments as if they were logical was quite disconcerting, and as the proconsul listened, I could see that he was being drawn in by all that claptrap.

So I started to drop in a few spoilers.  Snide remarks, sarcastic questions, clever asides – anything I could think of to raise doubts and damage Paul’s credibility.

Maybe I lacked my usual deft smoothness, but if I did, it was due only to my growing concern that this time I had an opponent who might not be so easy to defeat.

All of a sudden, Paul turned and looked straight at me – and I have never seen such power in a man’s eyes!

“You son of the devil,” he said to me, and then he went on to say all sorts of things about me that I don’t care to repeat.

The accusation he seemed to consider the most important was that I was making crooked the straight paths of the Lord.  Well, really!  Everyone who dabbles in religion is doing that, aren’t they?  All great preachers are just trying to point people in the direction that suits them, the way that transfers the largest quantities of gold from the pockets of the faithful to the pockets of the preacher!  Did this Paul really have the gall to suggest that he was any different?

But then came the most stunning part of his performance, the part that I am still trying to understand.

He didn’t even build up to it with a theatrical wave of the arms or anything like that.  With no real change in pitch – I could have presented it much better, I’m sure – he simply said, “Behold, the hand of the Lord is upon you, and you will be blind and unable to see the sun for a time.”

Immediately it was as if I was looking through mist, and within a few terrifying moments, complete darkness had spread across my vision.

For days, whenever I wanted to go anywhere I was forced to find people to lead me by the hand.

And ever since, I have been trying to work out how he did it.  What was his trick?  As a professional, I’m suitably impressed by his methods, and I have to find out how it works.  I’ve concluded that it must have been something that he threw into my eyes, but I didn’t see it coming, or feel it either.  That incredibly intent look must have been part of the trick.  He must have used it to hold my attention so completely that I didn’t notice the powder coming – or whatever it was.

I tried cleaning it off.  First I tried using water, but without success.  I couldn’t even feel anything in my eyes, so if it was a powder it must have been incredibly fine.

After that, I tried putting some salt in the water, but it made no difference.  Next I tried using milk, but that didn’t work either.  By then I suppose that my servant must have been getting tired of my demands, because he made the foolish suggestion that maybe it really was the power of God!  I suppose that slaves are all superstitious and can’t understand that the gods don’t really exist, but are merely figments of superstitious imaginations that are used by people like me and Paul to wield power over the ignorant masses.

Clearly, and I hate to admit this, Paul has a greater skill than I in this arena.

I had to keep trying to find out what he had done.

Next I tried using soap, and that felt like I was burning my eyes out but had no other effect.  The blackness stayed just as black.

Wine, vinegar, even lemon juice made no difference, except that my eyes were gradually getting more and more sore.

After a few days, I was close to giving up.  I was still very impressed by Paul’s skill, but not so pleased with being blind.

Then suddenly I noticed that, for the first time since it had happened, I could actually see a little light.  Slowly, it got better until finally I could see properly again – just as Paul had said.

Now how did he do that?  It was the final, crowning touch that would completely convince his audience that he could foretell the future.

I am lost in complete and utter admiration.  I cannot find any higher praise for Paul than to say that he is a true Magician.  His performance was absolutely masterful, from beginning to end.  If only he and I could get together in the business, we could take Rome by storm.  I could show him how to work the audience a bit better, and he could show me the potions or powders he uses.  But maybe he’d reckon that he doesn’t need me.

I’ll have to try to talk to him again, maybe once my eyes start to feel a bit better.