He checked himself, and then continued, “Do not suppose, dear brother and fellow-seeker after truth, that I expect all others to see the truth in the same form in which I see it. Only I should hope to induce them to see the same truth in _some_ form. See here these words”—and he took up a scroll and shewed them to me—“‘Every wise man is a ransom for the bad.’ Do they remind you of anything?” “Yes,” said I, “they are like the saying in Mark and Matthew, ‘The Son of man came to give his soul a ransom for many.’ Luke omits those words.” “He does,” said Clemens. “Luke has ‘I am among you as one that serveth.’ John combines the two views. For first he represents Jesus as girt with a napkin like a servant pouring forth water in a basin and washing the feet of the disciples; and then he represents Him as pouring forth His blood and water for their souls.” Then Clemens told me that the words “Every wise man is a ransom for the bad” were written by Philo of Alexandria, who, though a Jew, was also a philosopher, and he shewed me a similar passage in the same writer, to the effect that the good and worthy and wise are both the physicians and the ransoms of every community in which they exist. Then he took up Ezekiel and read to me the vision of the dry bones in the valley, and how they come together into living bodies, being quickened by the breath of the Lord. Next he turned to Greek literature, touching on the old allegory of Amphion, whose music was so sweet that the very stones were constrained by it to come together in unity building up the walls of a great city.