I cannot tell thee, Aglaophonos, how deeply this discourse affected me. Just as the Hellenes are eager to find each day some new beauty in man or the world, or some new truth about the relation of things, so we Hebrews rejoice in finding new ideals in the relations of men. Each of our Sages prides himself on this—that he has said some maxim of wisdom that none had thought of before him, and so each of them is remembered in the minds of men by one or more of his favorite maxims. But it is rare if in a whole lifetime a sage sayeth more than one word fit to be treasured up among men. Yet was this man Jesus dropping pearls of wisdom from his mouth in prodigal profusion. As each memorable word fell from his lips, a murmur of delighted surprise passed round the synagogue, and each man looked to his neighbor with brightened eyes. Some of the thoughts, indeed, I had heard from other of our Sages, but never in so pointed a form, surely never in such profusion from a single sage. And if what was said delighted us, the manner in which it was said entranced us still more. The voice of the speaker answered to the thoughts he expressed, as the Kinnor of David, according to our Sages, turned the wind into music. When he spoke of love, his voice was as the cooing dove; when he denounced the oppressor, it clanged like a silver trumpet. Indeed, his whole countenance and bearing changed in like manner, so that every word he uttered seemed to be the outcome of his whole being. But most of all was it the vividness of his eyes that impressed his words upon us. I had seen them flashing with scorn in the Temple, I now saw them melting with tenderness in the synagogue; and there was this of strange in them, that they seemed to speak other and deeper words. As he gazed upon us, I felt as if all my inmost being was bare to the gaze of those eyes. They seemed to know all my secret thoughts and sins; and yet I felt not ashamed, for as they saw the sins, so they seemed to speak forgiveness of them. What I felt then, others felt with me, for, as I afterwards learnt, each man felt the same as the eyes of Jesus fell upon him; and most curious it was that each man thought as I did, that the eyes of the speaker were upon him during the whole of the discourse. I have seen here in Alexandria portraits of men painted by your subtlest artists, in which, from whatever place you looked at them, the eyes seemed to gaze upon you. So was it with Jesus. Not alone did I, who was, as a member of the Sanhedrim, sitting immediately before him, feel his eyes pierce to my soul, but all who were in that synagogue felt the same. Nor did the effect die away after I had left the synagogue; for days and days afterwards, whenever I closed my eyes, or gazed for long on the wall, I could see the eyes of Jesus, and with it his whole face gazing upon me.